Simon Stålenhag used to post some digital paintings he had done of an imagined retrofuturistic Sweden. They depicted everyday life in an alternate '80s and '90s, with huge, towering structures in the background, hovering freight ships in the night sky, and rusty robot hulks dotting the landscape of the islands in Lake Mälaren where he grew up. A few noticed.

The Labyrinth was for many a departure from Stålenhag's usual style. This time, the world is really ending, and the horror is not something that is under the surface - quite the opposite, the remnants of humanity hide in underground shelters and the world is covered in ashes and the remains of those who didn't make it to the shelters.

Looking back towards Stockholm.

A view from the other side of the bridge.

Marine Group's Carrier 07, at anchor between the remaining two Lidingö bridges, the third of which it helped demolish in 2022. The other platforms would seem to be Carrier 08, Carrier 012, and Carrier 013.

Every now and then I do an accessibility check. It's constantly evolving, and so far it has always resulted in an improved site - better HTML structure, improved usability, etc. - for everyone, not just those needing assistive technologies. This time I used the AEL Accessibility Checker

After two books being set in an alternate Sweden, Stålenhag jumps across the pond and tells a story of a girl and her robot trying to make it across the southwestern United States to San Francisco, as society, hit by the horrors of a civil war and unable to recover, crumbles around them.

Cleaning the ground in preparation for residential buildings.

When I saw the Kickstarter for Sunset at Zero Point, I almost reflexively pitched in. I think Simon is a gifted storyteller, and crowdfunded culture appeals to me. A bit later I realized that this would be queer SF about two gay boys growing up, which isn't my usual fare, but (a) the pledge was in and (b) I was curious about what Stålenhag would do with the premise.

A photo session made quick, because the models were literally melting away.

What is says on the box - red leaves.

A bench.

I have this memory of a synopsis of a short story: it's an alien living in a universe completely filled with stone, and it's called something like "my stone telescope". Every now and then that memory pops up, but I've never been able to find the story. Now that we live in the age of AI I figured I'd ask, so I started the Gemini app, forgetting that I wasn't interacting with a search engine:

When washing your bike or taking a wrench to it, it's nice to be able to rotate the pedals, have things at eye-level, and so on.

Still not a cliche.

I think it's the little hairs on the leaves that hold the droplets.