"This is how the world ends. Swallowed in fire, but not in darkness. You will live on, the voice of all our ancestors, the voice of our fathers and our mothers to the last generation. We created the world we think you would have wished for us, and now we leave the cradle for the last time."


"I'd like to live just long enough to be there when they cut off your head and stick it on a pike, as a warning to the next ten generations that some favors come with too high a price. I want to look up into your lifeless eyes and wave, like this. Can you and your associates arrange that for me, Mr. Morden?"

Good Morning

You need to get out of bed and go to work. Your omnipotent girlfriend wants to stay in bed and cuddle. This is the greatest challenge you've ever faced. Was torn between making this a caption or just posting it here, so....I guess it's here now


"The records confirm you lived on Earth, in London, in the year 1888. The records also indicate that you vanished, suddenly, without a trace, on November 11, 1888. It's a very interesting date, Mr. Sebastian. The morning after the last of a string of murders on the East End." "The city was drowning in decay. Chaos, immorality. A message needed to be sent, etched in blood, for all the world to see. A warning. In the pursuit of my holy cause, I... did things. Terrible things. Unspeakable things. The world condemned me. But it didn't matter, because I believed I was right and the world was wrong. I believed I was the divine messenger. I believed I was--" "Chosen?" "I was... found by the Vorlons. They showed me the terrible depths of my mistake. My crimes, my presumption. I have done four hundred years of penance in their service. A job for which they said I was ideally suited. Now, perhaps, they will finally let me die." "I think that might be wise." "Good luck to you in your holy cause, Captain Sheridan. May your choices have better results than mine. Remembered not as a messenger, remembered not as a reformer, not as a prophet, not as a hero, not even as Sebastian. Remembered only as Jack."

Kimmy’s Plaything

It happened in an instant. Our senior physics club was touring the giant MaWSI facility at Caltech in a room filled with superconducting magnets and lasers. Most of the kids were barely paying attention because Emily, a previously-mousy brunette who had returned from summer vacation with a new wardrobe, a new hairstyle, and, most importantly, new breasts, was wearing a tight sweater and no bra. Most of the boys were crowded around her, staring while they tried to come up with some way to talk with her.