There is a modern triumvirate of British far-future space adventure SF writers: Neal Asher, Iain M. Banks, and Alastair Reynolds. I listed them alphabetically, but that also happens to be my order of preference for their work. Make no mistake, I like all three, but I have found myself disengaged by a few of Reynolds’s books.
We started on a positive note [see this post], but I quickly ran into some issues with his writing [see this post and this post]. I was very disappointed by a couple of his books. That so far hasn’t happened with Banks or Asher.
Recently, though, I read Reynolds’s Halcyon Years (2025).
In what now seems the distant past — the late 1990s or early 2000s — as I walked to my car after work each evening, I noticed a common behavior in others also walking to their cars. A lot of them were talking on their cellphones.
This was before smartphones became a thing and long before apps on phones. To the extent there was texting, one had to laboriously use the dialing keypad. Those devices were just cellphones.
Watching so many walk-and-chat struck me as odd — I valued the quiet moments of transition from work to personal life.
Winter announced itself a bit earlier than usual this year. In December it settled in with a fair bit of snow, though some warm spells melted a lot of it. We had our annual January Thaw but are in the deep freeze now.
Maybe it’s winter. Maybe it’s the insanity of the last decade catching up with me. I find myself decidedly in the blogging blahs (and fishing ain’t gonna help).
But let’s see if I can whip up another edition of Friday Notes.
The previous post looked back at 2025; this post looks forward to 2026. As each new year begins, I typically don’t have specific plans for it. This year, though, I am planning three series: two here, one on my programming blog.
Logos con Carne celebrates its fifteenth anniversary in six months. Anniversary years ending with a “5” (other than the fifth and twenty-fifth) don’t seem as big of a deal as ones ending with a “0”, so I’m not planning anything major.
If I make it to 20 years here (2031), that will be a big deal.
It’s Janus 5th — the last day of Chillaxmas — and time for a look back at 2025. Be warned: this is the twice-yearly post with all the narcissistic stats and charts.
Not that any of it means anything, but it’s fun for me. I’ve always liked massaging data and visualizing it in various ways. (It’s a part of what I did before I retired. Loved it then and now.)
The 2018 Kīlauea volcano eruption on Hawai’i really wowed me. Since then, a trickle of Wow! posts — 32 in 14 years. The number of years invested in this blog is becoming its own small wow (a topic for next month’s annual roundup).
The Wow! today is making it to 2026. And to 70+ revolutions around the local star — the party for that was beyond awesome.
December, of course, because Christmas. Every year I watch as many adaptations as I can find (and I read the Dickens novella). It’s one of my favorite stories: it’s small and personal; it centers on a redemption arc; it has a classic happy ending; and it has ghosts.
This year I was struck by how it’s a powerful example of our cultural normative social values — something expressed throughout human literature.
There is a modern triumvirate of British far-future space adventure SF writers: Neal Asher, Iain M. Banks, and Alastair Reynolds. I listed them alphabetically, but that also happens to be my order of preference for their work. Make no mistake, I like all three, but I have found myself disengaged by a few of Reynolds’s books.
In what now seems the distant past — the late 1990s or early 2000s — as I walked to my car after work each evening, I noticed a common behavior in others also walking to their cars. A lot of them were talking on their cellphones.
I started 
I have written 
Logos con carne 