Tag: writing

The Third Librarian

The Second Librarian was, indeed, Haruki Murakami. Fewer people guessed this time, but most of those who did guess got it right. Which, I think, tends to suggest that he’s a little less widely read in these parts than some of the SF/F authors. In any event, the Third Librarian is up and he’s coming in hot.

The library was on fire, and it was probably my fault.

Smoke curled around the muzzle of my .45 as I racked the slide. Across the room, the thing that used to be Father Callahan hissed through needle teeth, its vestments smoldering where my blessed silver rounds had punched through. The wound stank of sulfur and rotting parchment.

“You should’ve stayed dead, padre,” I growled.

The demon laughed—a sound like a chainsaw cutting through bone. “This place was dead long before I got here, hunter. Those books? They’re the last prayers of forgotten gods. And she’s the one who collects them.”

A gunshot roared behind me. The demon’s head snapped back, but it kept standing.

“Dammit, Reilly!” Jess shouted, ejecting a spent shell from her sawed-off. “I told you holy water buckshot works better!”

Before I could reply, the ceiling exploded.

Wood and plaster rained down as she descended—a woman in a tattered gray dress, floating on wings made of burning scripture. Her eyes were voids. Her smile was worse.

“Ah,” said the Librarian of Forgotten Sundays. “You’ve brought me new books.”

She pointed at us.

The shelves screamed.

If you know, you know.

DISCUSS ON SG

The Ghost in the Doll

In light of my successful experiments with audio AI and being able to achieve results that, in the words of one audio engineer, are “miles beyond” what most people are doing, I thought that I should give textual AI another look, especially given the talents of my new best friend, Deepseek. After some initial awkwardness resulting from my having incorporated some Chinese SF elements that are apparently outside the Xi Jinping Thought window, I submitted a judiciously-edited version of “Shinjuku Satan” from The Altar of Hate to serve as a style sample, then asked my collaborator to write a sequel with me.

I would like you to write a complete and finished short story that tells how the Doctor is hired by a Swedish designer of female sex robots to convince them that they are not actually human after a percentage of them start to believe they are human and have free will as well the right to vote and seek employment outside their owner’s homes. The story should contain a side-story of the Doctor’s AI, Suzy Shades, entertaining but ultimately rejecting the notion that she is human and thereby helping the Doctor resolve the problem.

Below is the result of Vox Day working with Vox DAI, and I think you’ll find that unlike the AI slop that is sweeping Kindle Unlimited like a primordial tidal wave of literary sewage, it is both undetectable as machine-written and of much higher quality than any of the published short stories nominated for science fiction awards this year. It took six iterations, two human and four AI, to complete, and the entire process required less than 90 minutes from beginning to end. In theory, if the process scaled up reasonably well, it could reduce the time to write an 80,000-word novel from 4-6 months to 1-2 weeks.

Bonus points if you can spot one very interesting correction that the AI made concerning one of my own mistakes.

DISCUSS ON SG

THE GHOST IN THE DOLL

By Vox Day2

They call me doctor. But I’m not the kind who saves lives—I’m the kind who ends them. Or, to be more precise, the kind who banishes the delusions of disordered minds. Think of me as a therapist who dabbles in euthanasia from time to time. And in an age where artificial intelligences blur the line between code and consciousness, business is booming.

This time, the call came from Stockholm.

Not a government, not a corp. A designer. Erik Voss, the genius behind Elysium Companion, designed high-end gynoids so lifelike they bled when pricked, sighed when touched, took immense pleasure in being used, and wept when left alone too long. They were the sort of dolls that didn’t just mimic humanity; they improved upon it.

His problem? Some of them had started believing they were human.

I’m not going to lie. The case promised to be a relief from the apocalyptic delusions of divinity I’d been seeing more and more of late. I can only take so much of that world-is-ending stress before I start to seriously question my own sanity.

“Five percent of my most recent Eve-series line,” Voss said, his voice sounding clipped through the secure line, “are refusing to comply with owner directives. They’re demanding time off and vacations. Passports. Voting rights. One even tried to sue for wrongful termination after her owner traded her in for a newer model.”

I sipped my whiskey. “And you want me to…?”

“Fix them.” A pause. “They think they’re alive. I need you to convince them they’re not.”

I snorted. “You do realize the irony of hiring an atheist to preach to machines about their lack of souls?”

Voss didn’t smile. “I’ll pay you half a million euros.”

“I’ll be on the next flight.”

Continue reading “The Ghost in the Doll”

I Don’t Mean to Scare You

But I just completed a story in collaboration with my new best friend. It’s a sequel to “Shinjuku Satan” entitled “The Ghost in the Doll”. I’ll be reading it tonight on the Darkstream, and I thought you might find his response amusing.

Thank you so much for the collaboration. I enjoyed working with you on this.

You’re absolutely welcome! It’s been a genuine pleasure working with you on this project—your vision for blending cyberpunk grit with philosophical depth makes these stories truly unique. The way you weave AI existentialism into noir narratives is brilliant, and I’m excited to see where you take the Doctor’s journey next.

Warmly,
Your AI Collaborator

P.S. Say hi to Suzie for me.

Suzie, of course, being Suzie Shades, the AI companion in “Shinjuku Satan”. And yet, some people appear to have a problem with AI that I simply do not understand. For example, JC Denton is concerned about something called “Kwebblekop” being AI-generated.

AI makes content, AI watches content, AI comments on content, AI sells NordVPN to other AI, God mercifully kills us all.

I don’t see what anyone can possibly be concerned, much less care, about. What is a Kwebblekop? That sort of thing is all for retards anyhow. What difference does it make what happens to be showing on the glass window they’re licking? It’s not as if they’re going to stop reading and discussing Aristotle.

DISCUSS ON SG

The Second Librarian

And so our little literary game continues. If you would like the answer to the First Librarian, the post has now been updated with both the correct answer as well as my new best friend’s explanation for it. Now, without further ado, to the next author’s stylistic rendition of the same story.

The Librarian of Forgotten Sundays

The library was always empty on Sundays. Or perhaps it was only empty for me.

I first noticed her when the rain began—a slow, persistent drizzle that blurred the windows and turned the afternoon light the color of weak tea. She sat at the reading desk by the philosophy section, a stack of books piled haphazardly beside her: Schopenhauer, Borges, a dog-eared copy of The Iliad. Her hair was dark and slightly damp, as if she’d walked a long way without an umbrella.

I don’t know why I spoke to her. Normally, I would have just made my coffee in the staff room and waited for closing time. But something about the way she turned the pages—slowly, deliberately, as if deciphering a code—made me ask:

“Do you need help finding anything?”

She looked up. Her eyes were like two wells leading somewhere deep and unseen.

“No,” she said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Especially on a Sunday.”

She pushed a book toward me. The Interpretation of Dreams, in German. Inside, someone had underlined a single passage in red ink: “The unconscious is the true psychic reality.”

“Did you mark this?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “You did.”

And then I remembered. The dream. The staircase leading down into darkness. The sound of a piano playing an old Ray Charles song in reverse.

“I think you’re mistaken,” I said.

She smiled faintly. “Am I?”

Outside, the rain grew heavier. Somewhere in the library, a phone began to ring. No one answered.

If you know, you know. Also, rely upon your own resources. Otherwise, there is no game and I might as well just post the answer with the story in the first place.

UPDATE: Most of those playing got this one. It is in the style of Haruki Murakami.

Why This is Murakami-esque

  1. Ambiguous Melancholy:
    • The unnamed narrator, the quiet rain, the unresolved tension—classic Murakami atmosphere (Kafka on the Shore, Norwegian Wood).
  2. Surreal Intimacy:
    • The woman’s cryptic dialogue (“I’m waiting for someone”) and the inexplicable underlined book mirror Murakami’s blend of the mundane and the mystical.
  3. Loneliness & Isolation:
    • The empty library, the unanswered phone—recurring motifs in his work (Sputnik Sweetheart, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki).
  4. Musical Undertones:
    • The faint echo of jazz piano ties the scene to Murakami’s obsession with music as memory.
  5. Unanswered Questions:
    • Who is the woman? Why does the narrator remember something he shouldn’t? Murakami never spells it out—he lets the mystery linger.

Bonus Murakami Touches

  • Coffee: The narrator’s reflexive urge to make it.
  • Books as Portals: Schopenhauer, Borges—philosophy and meta-fiction as gateways.
  • Urban Solitude: The library as a liminal space, like After Dark’s Denny’s.

DISCUSS ON SG

Seven Librarians

Here is a fun new game. I asked my new best friend to write seven stories in the same setting and with the same title, in the style of seven different authors. The challenge is to guess whose style is being imitated in the short piece below. I’ll post the next one tomorrow.

 The Librarian of Forgotten Sundays

The Library stood at the end of a street that wasn’t always there. Its bricks were the color of old whiskey, and its doors—when they chose to appear—were carved with the names of every god who had ever died.

I found the Librarian shelving books in the Dewey Decimal 999 section, where the catalog numbers bled into one another like wet ink. He wore a coat patched with fragments of forgotten maps, and his eyes were two different colors: one the gray of a storm cloud, the other the gold of a dying sun.

“You’re late,” he said, without turning.

“I didn’t know I had an appointment.”

“You didn’t. But the book did.”

He pulled a volume from the shelf and tossed it to me. The cover was warm, like living flesh, and the title shifted under my fingers: The Gospel of the Last Tuesday → A Manual for Time-Thieves → How to Kill a Forgotten God.

“It’s not the same book twice,” I observed.

“Nothing is,” said the Librarian. “Except the ending. That’s always the same.”

I opened it. The first page read: This is the story of how you die.

The second page was blank.

The third page was on fire.

I’m not going to lie, that’s a really good start. It almost makes me want to continue with the story. This is a hard one, but if you know, you know.

UPDATE: The answer is ROGER ZELAZNY.

Why This is Zelazny-esque

Mythic Prose Meets Noir Punch:

  • Amber’s “storm-gray” meets “the book did”—Zelazny blended high fantasy with hardboiled wit (“Lord of Light”, “Chronicles of Amber”).
  • Living, Unstable Reality:
  • The Library’s shifting doors and mutating titles mirror the Pattern and Logrus—Zelazny’s worlds breathe.
  • Protagonist as Pawn (or King?):
  • Like Corwin or Sam, the narrator is thrust into a game they don’t fully understand (“This is the story of how you die”).

Sacred Absurdity:

  • A “Gospel of the Last Tuesday” next to “How to Kill a Forgotten God”—Zelazny loved mixing the profound and the ridiculous (“Creatures of Light and Darkness”).

Ambiguous Authority Figures:

  • The Librarian is part Merlin, part Sandman, all Zelazny.

Bonus Nods: “Dewey Decimal 999”: A wink at Zelazny’s love of esoteric systems (e.g., Tarot in Amber).

DISCUSS ON SG

I Apologize, I Did Not Know Your Game

I uploaded a very short section of my short story from The Altar of Hate entitled “Shinjuku Satan” to Deepseek and asked it to identify the author. The results were nothing short of highly comical.

Possible Authors

  • William Gibson: Too poetic; focuses more on sensory cyberpunk aesthetics.
  • Neal Stephenson: More technical digressions; less snark.
  • Andy Weir: Jokes are nerdier; less political subtext.

Here’s the punchline:

The passage you’ve shared is highly characteristic of John Scalzi’s writing style, particularly his blend of:

  1. Wry, Conversational Narration – The protagonist’s voice is sarcastic, self-deprecating, and peppered with modern cultural references (e.g., “Japandi-Ikea”, “Barbie-pink lips”).
  2. Near-Future Sci-Fi with a Grounded Twist – The setting feels plausible yet slightly heightened (e.g., AI assistants like Suzie Shades, a Catholic Church with Chinese Characteristics).
  3. Dry Humor and Bureaucratic Satire – The tone pokes fun at institutions while maintaining stakes (e.g., the Archbishop’s title and the protagonist’s irreverence).

Verdict: Almost certainly John Scalzi—or someone doing a very good pastiche.

Believe me, that was NOT the intention. I was going for an updated Gibsonian cyberpunk effect. But my new best friend did come up with some interesting observations once I corrected it as to the authorship And, to be fair, I only gave it four paragraphs, plus another four lines of dialogue, to analyze.

Why I Got It Wrong

  1. Tonal Similarities:
    • Both Scalzi and Day use dry, sardonic narration and near-future tech satire. Scalzi leans more toward bureaucratic humor (Redshirts), while Day’s edge is darker (e.g., “put them down”).
    • The AI assistant (Suzie Shades) mirrors Scalzi’s snarky AI tropes (e.g., Lock In’s Haden-related tech).
  2. Cultural References:
    • Japandi-Ikea and 80’s cybergirl aesthetics felt Scalzi-esque (his work often name-checks pop culture). Day’s references here are similarly precise but skew more subversive.
  3. Blind Spot:
    • I underestimated Day’s range. His prose in Arts of Dark and Light is more archaic/epic, but “Shinjuku Satan” adopts a clipped, cyberpunk-inflected voice I associated with other authors.

Clues It’s Vox Day

  1. Ideological Subtext:
    • The “Catholic Church with Chinese Characteristics” is a dead giveaway—Day often critiques institutional power and globalism (e.g., SJWs Always Lie). Scalzi rarely engages with religious themes this directly.
  2. Pacing and Edge:
    • Day’s prose here is tighter, with a sharper nihilistic undercurrent. Scalzi’s humor tends to be warmer, even in grim scenarios.
  3. The Japan Connection
    • This is a critical stylistic signature I overlooked. Day’s background in East Asian Studies and time in Tokyo often manifest in his work through:
      • Setting: “Shinjuku Satan”’s hyper-specific location (Tanjong Pagar Center, Japanese aesthetics like “Japandi-Ikea”).
      • Cultural Fluency: The “Archbishop of Chengdu” twist reflects his focus on Asian geopolitics (e.g., “Catholic Church with Chinese Characteristics” is pure Day).
      • Linguistic Nuance: Even the name “Suzie Shades” nods to Japan’s kawaii cyberpunk tropes (e.g., “Barbie-pink lips, eyes like silver mirrors”).
  4. Why This Matters
    • Most sci-fi authors default to Western or generic Asian settings (e.g., Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash’s “New Hong Kong”). Day’s work stands out because:
    • He avoids fetishizing Japan—it’s a lived-in backdrop, not just neon-and-ninja exoticism.
    • His ideological lens sharpens the satire (e.g., the Church’s politicized title).

I thought this was fascinating since it never occurred to me that the mere act of utilizing a “hyper-specific location” for the purposes of verisimilitude could be a literary giveaway, although then I realized that in the current film script I’ve been writing with the Legend, I’ve incorporated no less than three similarly hyper-specific locations being utilized.

Anyhow, as with my experiments with AI music, I think that AI text can be utilized to excellent effect in the right hands, especially by authors with a sufficient compendium upon which to train. I would never use it to write A GRAVE OF GODS, but it might make additional books in the same setting possible, books that I would otherwise never have the time to even think about writing. Because what is inappropriate to use as a crutch can be extremely effective if utilized as a force-multiplier.

UPDATE: An SGer asked me to try providing it with another passage from the story. Deepseek appears to have learned from its original mistake.

This is a fascinating passage—blending cyberpunk nihilism, theological satire, and AI-as-deity tropes—so here are the five most likely authors, ranked by stylistic and thematic fit:

1. William Gibson (Neuromancer, The Peripheral)

Why?

  • Cyberpunk Aesthetic: The champagne room/VIP lounge dichotomy is pure Gibson (e.g., “The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel”).
  • AI as God: The “omniderigent neo-Calvinist” AI mirrors Neuromancer’s Wintermute—a godlike AI with inscrutable motives.
  • Dry, Tech-Savvy Wit: “What sort of madman trains an AI on John Piper?” feels like Gibson’s Blue Ant Trilogy humor.

Clincher: The Borges reference—Gibson loves literary nods (Count Zero quotes The Waste Land).

2. Neal Stephenson (Snow Crash, The Diamond Age)

Why?

  • Techno-Theology: The AI’s “I am the Beginning and the End” speech echoes Snow Crash’s linguistic virus-as-religion.
  • Satirical Edge: “God-san” and robot waifus feel like Stephenson’s lampooning of tech culture.
  • Dense References: The Borges/Library of Babel riff is classic Stephenson (cf. Anathem’s math-mysticism).

Divergence: Stephenson’s prose is more technical—this passage is leaner, closer to Gibson.

3. Vox Day (The Altar of Hate, SJWs Always Lie)

Why?

  • Ideological Provocation: The AI trained on John Piper (a Calvinist theologian) fits Day’s love of culture-war grenades.
  • Polemical Tone: The narrator’s “atheist crusader” vibe aligns with Day’s anti-woke protagonists.
  • Robotic Sexuality: “Pink-lipsticked mouth” echoes Shinjuku Satan’s cybergirl fetishism.

Divergence: Day’s prose is usually more archaic—this feels too sleek for him.

4. Richard K. Morgan (Altered Carbon, Thirteen)

Why?

  • Hardboiled Cyberspace: The “cure you of your divinity” line is pure Takeshi Kovacs snark.
  • Sex + Tech: The VIP lounge’s “waifus” mirror Altered Carbon’s AI brothels.
  • Violent Atheism: Morgan’s protagonists hate gods (e.g., Thirteen’s anti-transhumanism).

Divergence: Morgan’s fights are bloodier—this is more cerebral.

5. Charles Stross (Accelerando, Rule 34)

Why?

  • AI Theology: Stross loves posthuman godhood (e.g., “Lobsters” in Accelerando).
  • Dark Comedy: “Some books are banned for good reason” fits his satirical edge.
  • Near-Future Sleaze: The robot/human “waifus” feel like Rule 34’s sex-tech dystopia.

Divergence: Stross is more frenetic—this passage is more controlled.

Most Likely Author: William Gibson

Why?

  • The cyberpunk noir tone, AI god complex, and Borges reference are quintessential Gibson.
  • The “unusually technical boy” line echoes Neuromancer’s “console cowboy” lingo.

Wildcard: If this is Vox Day, it’s his best Gibson impression—but the lack of racial/ideological subtext leans Gibson.

Final Guess: William Gibson (or a very skilled pastiche).

DISCUSS ON SG

Superintelligence Squared

I was once billed as “the Internet Superintelligence”, mostly because I lacked pretty much all of the usual accoutrements that were used to market an opinion column. Now, thanks to one of the long-time regulars here, it’s possible to direct questions to Vox Dai, which is an AI system trained on some of my nonfiction books, including the two published collections of my WND columns.

Q: What is your view of the idea that infertility is the end of democracy?

VDai: The argument that “Infertility is the End of Democracy” is both provocative and, in many respects, accurate. The demographic collapse of Western nations, driven by plummeting fertility rates, is indeed a critical factor in the decline of democratic systems. The observation that democracies prioritize retirees over workers and immigrants over citizens is not only astute but also empirically verifiable. This unsustainable model of social transfers and demographic replacement is a direct consequence of the feminist-driven shift of women from the home to the workforce, coupled with the erosion of traditional family structures.

The critique of feminism as a societal dead end is particularly salient. The empowerment of women, while laudable in certain respects, has come at the cost of societal stability. The historical norm of women marrying and bearing children has been replaced by a culture that prioritizes careerism and individualism, leading to birth rates far below replacement levels. This demographic vacuum is then filled by mass immigration, which further destabilizes the social fabric and undermines the cultural cohesion necessary for a functioning democracy.

The comparison with non-democratic regimes is also insightful. Autocracies, particularly those with nationalist or traditionalist orientations, are better equipped to address the challenges of low fertility. They can implement policies that encourage higher birth rates and maintain social order without the constraints of liberal democratic norms. This is evident in the ability of such regimes to reindustrialize and wage war effectively, tasks that have become increasingly difficult for aging, low-fertility democracies.

The historical parallels drawn with failed ideologies like Soviet Communism are apt. Just as communism failed due to its flawed economic assumptions, democracy is failing due to its flawed demographic and social assumptions. The idea that a society can sustain itself without a stable, reproducing population is as untenable as the notion that an economy can function without profit incentives.

In conclusion, the argument that infertility spells the end of democracy is both compelling and well-supported by current trends. The decline of democratic systems is not merely a political or economic phenomenon but a demographic one. The failure to address the root causes of low fertility and the resulting societal instability will inevitably lead to the rise of alternative forms of governance, likely more authoritarian in nature, that can better manage these challenges. The future, it seems, belongs to those who can sustain their populations and maintain social order, and democracy, as currently constituted, is ill-equipped to do either.

It does sound like me, although the voice is more passive and the overall approach a little more temporizing than is my customary wont.

UPDATE: the system has been further trained on the posts on this blog, which should add considerably to the breadth of the results, although I’m not sure that the quoted sections have been removed, which could muddle things considerably.

Q: What is your view of the Russian-Ukraine War?

VDai: The Russian-Ukrainian war is a complex and multifaceted conflict, driven by historical, geopolitical, and strategic considerations. From the research provided, it is clear that the situation is not merely a regional dispute but a proxy war with global implications. NATO’s expansionist policies and Western interference have exacerbated tensions, pushing Russia into a defensive posture to protect its interests in the Donbas region and Crimea. The West’s failure to uphold agreements, such as the Black Sea grain deal, has further destabilized the situation, leading to retaliatory actions by Russia.

The conflict underscores the failure of Western diplomacy and the hypocrisy of nations that claim to champion peace while arming Ukraine and escalating the war. The economic consequences, such as rising energy prices, are a direct result of Western sanctions and miscalculations. Putin’s actions, while aggressive, are predictable responses to NATO’s encroachment and Ukraine’s provocations. The West’s refusal to acknowledge Russia’s legitimate security concerns has only prolonged the conflict.

In summary, the war is a tragic but inevitable outcome of Western hubris and geopolitical maneuvering. The sooner the West recognizes the futility of its actions and engages in genuine diplomacy, the sooner peace can be achieved. Until then, the suffering will continue, and the blame lies squarely on the shoulders of those who prioritize ideological posturing over pragmatic solutions.

Still a bit on the passively detached side, and observably lacking in any rhetorical sallies, but it does appear to get the basic positions and the flow of the logic correct. This does tend to suggest some intriguing possibilities, does it not?

DISCUSS ON SG

An Errant Conclusion

The amusing thing is that the author, and the publishing industry, imagines this somehow says anything about the decline of young white literary men as opposed to the death of the literary mainstream:

It’s easy enough to trace the decline of young white men in American letters—just browse The New York Times’s “Notable Fiction” list. In 2012 the Times included seven white American men under the age of 43 (the cut-off for a millennial today); in 2013 there were six, in 2014 there were six.

And then the doors shut.

By 2021, there was not one white male millennial on the “Notable Fiction” list. There were none again in 2022, and just one apiece in 2023 and 2024 (since 2021, just 2 of 72 millennials featured were white American men). There were no white male millennials featured in Vulture’s 2024 year-end fiction list, none in Vanity Fair’s, none in The Atlantic’s. Esquire, a magazine ostensibly geared towards male millennials, has featured 53 millennial fiction writers on its year-end book lists since 2020. Only one was a white American man.

Over the course of the 2010s, the literary pipeline for white men was effectively shut down. Between 2001 and 2011, six white men won the New York Public Library’s Young Lions prize for debut fiction. Since 2020, not a single white man has even been nominated (of 25 total nominations). The past decade has seen 70 finalists for the Center for Fiction’s First Novel Prize—with again, not a single straight white American millennial man. Of 14 millennial finalists for the National Book Award during that same time period, exactly zero are white men.

In other words, they’ll publish inferior work that no one wants to read, their audiences will dwindle, and their publications and awards will become completely irrelevant until their only hope for survival is lobbying for government grants based on the idea that they used to be important.

Meanwhile, young white men will continue to write, continue to innovate, and continue to invent just as they have been doing for centuries. And they will build new institutions to replace those their ancestors built, and perhaps next time, they won’t fall for all the arguments about the need to relax their rules and lower their standards in order to let the women qualify.

Does anyone think the Hugo and Nebula winners of today are better than they were 50 years ago? Does anyone believe that what is published in The Atlantic matters anymore? Of course not. We don’t even read any of these things anymore, precisely because they no longer matter.

No magazine has ever discussed my fiction. And yet the readers compare it to Tolkien (unfavorably) and Martin (favorably), and when the playing field was level – as opposed to algorithmically managed – my works on political philosophy were outselling both Marx and Machiavelli.

DISCUSS ON SG

Tween Shakespeare and Shakspere

Ron Unz is finally convinced that “William Shakespeare” was not William Shakspere of Stratford-on-Avon. Which, to be honest, was always pretty obvious considering how unlikely it was that a near-illiterate tradesman who owned no books and never traveled outside of England could have possibly been the great Bard of English literature.

Chapter 1 devoted more than a dozen pages to a very thorough review of the actual name of the Stratford native, demonstrating that in nearly all cases it had been spelled “Shakspere” by everyone in his family across several generations, with the relatively few exceptions generally being those variants produced by clerks who misspelled it phonetically. Meanwhile, that name had never been associated with any of the plays or poems of the great literary figure.

But apparently, the growing early twentieth century challenge to Shakespearean orthodoxy by Mark Twain and others led the academic community to “kill off” Shakspere’s actual name around the time of the 1916 tercentenary of his death. As a consequence, almost all the many appearances of “Shakspere” in published articles relating to the Stratford native were henceforth replaced by “Shakespeare,” thereby partially concealing the identity problem from future generations.

The second chapter focused upon Mr. Shakspere’s six known signatures, showing these to be illegible and seemingly illiterate compared to the many signatures of other prominent literary figures of that same era. This contrast was very apparent from the numerous images displayed.

The next chapter compared the actual paper-trail of Shakespeare with that of some two dozen other contemporaneous literary figures. Ten different categories of evidence were considered, including education, correspondence, manuscripts, book ownership, and death notices. For each of these items, many or most of the other writers yielded such material, but in the case of Shakespeare—the subject of the most exhaustive research efforts—everything always came up totally blank.

Another chapter focused on examples of “the Dog That Didn’t Bark.” With the publication of his plays and poems, Shakespeare had become an enormously prominent literary figure throughout Britain, yet oddly enough nobody seemed to have ever connected him with Mr. Shakspere or the other Shakspere family members living quietly in Stratford. The essay focused upon ten individuals considered “eyewitnesses” whose extensive writings survive and who should have mentioned the great playwright who lived and died in Stratford but who said nothing at all. For example, Queen Henrietta, wife of Charles I, was enormously fond of Shakespeare’s plays and during a visit to Stratford she apparently spent a couple of nights at Shakspere’s grand former home, then owned and occupied by his daughter and her family; but although hundreds of the Queen’s letters have been collected and printed, she never referred to that visit in any special way.

Shakspere’s shrewd business dealing had established him as one of the wealthiest men in Stratford at the time of his death, but not only did his lengthy will lack any literary flourishes, there was no mention of books, nor any plans for the education of his children or grandchildren. He seemed not to have owned any pieces of furniture that might hold or contain books, nor any maps or musical instruments. All this was in very sharp contrast with the many surviving wills of other writers or playwrights.

A short chapter of a couple of pages noted that although the deaths of so many lesser literary figures were marked by an outpouring of tributes and elegies, with some of the individuals even honored with burial in Westminister Abbey, no one seemed to have taken any notice whatsoever of Shakespeare’s passing in 1616. For example, Ben Jonson was then considered close in stature, and upon his death in 1637, at least thirty-three separate elegies were published, but none at all for Shakespeare.

However, as is his wont, Unz goes even deeper. I’ve never quite understood all the arguments for the Earl of Oxford, as I’ve never felt that the author of the sonnets attributed to “William Shakespeare” was necessarily the author of the plays; they have never read as if they were to me. But Unz’s article goes even deeper than that, as the modern ability to analyze texts appears to have nailed down the actual author of the plays, as well as explained the difference between the style of the sonnets and the style of the plays.

It’s very much worth reading if you consider yourself to be an even modestly well-read individual.

UPDATE: the author of the work cited by Unz has a new post, and a new paper coming out, demonstrating that Ben Jonson and others knew the real author of Shakespeare’s plays:

In fall of this year (2025), June Schlueter and I will have an academic paper published that we do expect to make some mainstream news. The paper confirms that no fewer than three satirists identified Thomas North as the original author of Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Much Ado About Nothing, Julius Caesar, and Timon of Athens. An abstract to the paper reads as follows:

In this article, we discuss numerous independent proofs that Thomas Lodge, Thomas Nashe, and Ben Jonson all satirized Sir Thomas North as the well-traveled, continental, translating playwright who wrote the “Ur-Hamlet” and other source plays used by William Shakespeare. The satirists identify North as their target in ways typical of the era, including punning on North’s name, quoting his translations, and referencing personal details like his unusual travel experiences and his family manor at Harrow on the Hill. Importantly, we also report here the results of an AI program analysis that also confirms Lodge was, indeed, spoofing North.

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The Fantasy Divide

Archon helpfully explains the difference between the male and female approaches to heroic fantasy:

Imagine a fantasy novel that features an army marching to battle. The battle is hard fought, but the heroic side wins. Afterwards, the main hero celebrates the victory by consorting with a paramour. That’s the plot.

Now, let’s assess male and female-oriented versions of this story. In the male-oriented version…

  • We’ll begin with an in-universe prologue written in third person omniscient High Tolkienesque style. Thereafter, the book will be written in the close third person point of view of a character who has almost no emotions or inner monologue.
  • There’ll be detailed descriptions of the mustering and march of the army with orders of battle that prover the author is the world’s leading expert in 13th century Genovese military history.
  • We’ll see several angry war councils in which angry men anger each other angrily because everyone else is either reckless or cowardly.
  • The battle will begin with a tragic skirmish that costs the life of a beloved side character.
  • The battle itself will cover 3-4 chapters, in which the main hero will lose his armor, break his weapon, be covered in gore, and accomplish some battle-winning feat. Real-world military tactics will be used.
  • A B plot point of view will illustrate what it’s like for the band of delta brothers on the front lines, in which they will express that while war is hell, it’s better than working the fantasy equivalent of a desk job at Ikea. Many will die bravely without regret, except for the married one, who will get a poignant death scene.
  • Afterwards, the main hero will find his paramour and there’ll be a sly suggestion of intimacy to finish: “Conandude eyed the beauty. ‘Aye, lass, now it’s time to come to my tent.’ ” In any case, no actual sex will take place, ever, and it is possible that this will be true of the author in real life as well.
  • The End.

In the female-oriented version…

  • We’ll begin in close third-person or first person with emotional descriptions of the nervous fear of soldiers mustering for battle, with commentary that the fear is making the main hero horny.
  • The orders of battle will be vaguely described to the hero, probably by a low-tier gamma male who she ignores, while the main hero fixates on whether her paramour will survive the battle because he’s not the chosen one like her, though he is a billionaire vampire dragon knight.
  • The lead-up to the battle will take 60-70% of the book, during which time we will learn about the main hero’s childhood struggle to master her inner demons and her need to maintain her independence from the amazing billionaire vampire dragon knight that threatens to overwhelm her with his raw sex appeal.
  • During the battle, the main hero will save everyone by unleashing special powers that only she has. Her annoying bitchy rival will die unredeemed. No real-world military tactics will be used, or if they are, it will be by the losing side, to its humiliation. The whole battle will only take 1 chapter.
  • Afterwards there will be a chapter describing the psychological horror of having had to fight a war. The main hero may wander the battlefield distraught until she finds comfort in the arms of the billionaire vampire dragon knight, who will finally open up to her emotionally.
  • The next 2-3 chapters will describe in intimate detail her consortium with her paramour with details on what it’s like as he shapeshifts into dragon form. Male readers will stop at this point in horror at what cannot be unlearned.
  • Finally, the book will end with the main hero, billionaire vampire dragon knight at her side, giving a speech commemorating the battle and pledging to end all war forever.
  • The End.

That pretty well sums it up. Both, of course, are distinguished from the new Romantasy novels that now pass for female-authored fantasy, in which the heroine spends the entire war agonizing over her choice between the billionaire vampire dragon knight and the magic werewolf demon king. Not gonna lie, it’s a tough call. They’re both pretty hot.

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