Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep Chapter 1: The Wake Up Call
Chapter 1 opens with a married couple fighting. Not about money. Not about the kids. About which emotion to feel today.
Chapter 1 opens with a married couple fighting. Not about money. Not about the kids. About which emotion to feel today.
So I just finished reading Cities in Flight by James Blish, and I have thoughts. A lot of thoughts. Enough that I’m going to retell this whole thing as a blog series.
I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. Take one of my favorite sci-fi books and go through it chapter by chapter. Share my thoughts, break it down, and maybe convince a few people to pick it up.
A fifty-three-year-old career policeman stands before five hundred men at dawn, tears running down his face, and tells them their job today is to murder fifteen hundred people. Then he says something no one expects: if you cannot do it, you can step out. No punishment. No consequences. Just walk away.
Birkenfeld turned prison into a comedy show. This is the second half of Chapter 14 in my Lucifer’s Banker Uncensored retelling series.
Before the middle-aged policemen of Battalion 101 ever set foot in Poland, the machinery of mass murder was already grinding at full speed. Chapter 6 is not really about the battalion yet. It is about the nightmare they were walking into.
The chapter opens with a guy named Lopez sprinting out of the barracks, blowing through a fire door, and making a run for the woods. A fat guard they called Waddles wheezes after him. No chance. Lopez is gone.
These were dock workers, truck drivers, and salesmen. Guys pushing forty with bad knees and families back home. And they were about to be sent to Poland to do things none of them could have imagined a few years earlier.
Fort Lauderdale. August. Hot enough to melt your shoes. Birkenfeld walks into a federal courtroom to learn how many years he will spend in prison. The man who blew the lid off the biggest banking scandal in history is about to get sentenced like a common criminal.
Imagine filing a report about transporting a thousand people to a death camp, and your biggest complaint is that the butter went rancid.