More than just ape and bull avatars

You may think you’ve seen it all when a collection of jpegs sells for $69m.

You haven’t.

You may even be somewhat surprised that a European girl can package up her virtual love as an NFT and sell it for $185,000.

Brace yourself.

Or you may have gotten wind of investors paying more for virtual land and mansions than you or I would spend on real-life bricks and mortar.

Believe me, we are just at the foothills of where we are going with NFTs!

The beauty of these non-fungible tokens is that their application is limited only by the imagination…

Quite literally

Photo: Created by the author

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. When I heard that a Japanese billionaire had bought up all of the civilian tickets on Elon Musk’s first Moon trip, and was offering them for free to eight creative types around the world, I just had to grab a slice.

Of course the main creativity I’ll need to display will be in how to justify my own selection. Oldest man ever to venture into space might do it. By the time it rolls around I would be 66, and highly unlikely to pass the physical, but I have always been willing to back long shots.

Full Novel

The taxi driver is old and deaf and doesn’t seem to know the streets too well. At her age I hope to be helping my as yet unborn children take care of my grandchildren. I give up trying to give her an address and instead just gesture downtown.
— Wall Street, is it? You shoulda said.
We have hardly set off before she shouts aloud.
— Did you see that guy cut me up? He’s the one. He’s the one. He’s gonna pay for my new hip.
At this, she picks up a video camera from the seat and starts…

Now featuring real news!

Pizza Hut, via

It’s been too long…

Yes, I know I promised not to stuff your inboxes, but I’ve still been a little bit lax to let the months roll by without so much as a peep.

I’ve throttled back on my own writing for various reasons, including getting busy with other things and feeling that I’d almost said all I wanted to say. That hasn’t stopped me from adding a clutch of new writers, and maintaining a healthy turnaround speed for any new submissions sent in by our contributors.

As previously, anyone who would like to join the club need only email me at …

Full Novel


The counsellors surprise me when they come out of their respective lifts. Damon Runyon I can understand after just a moment’s thought. A writer, just as I’ve always wanted to be. I like his perpetual present tense style of writing and the persona of his narrator. Someone who is never at the centre of any of the action. Always on the periphery of whatever scam he’s describing, observing, analysing, but staying emotionally uninvolved. I like that, I can empathise with that. So, Damon Runyon — good. But who is this buxom peroxide blonde who comes out of the lift on…

Tales from the Time Lounge — Part 3

Photo by Nong Vang on Unsplash

Background to this conversation right here:

— What’s the thing that shocks you most when you look back at our era?

— You’re not the first to ask that, and I’m reluctant to answer. I get mixed responses.

— I’m curious. Promise I won’t be upset.

— It’s how little life matters to you. Like it’s a throwaway commodity.

— You don’t have wars in 2042?

— I’m not talking about wars.

Sometime towards the end of the twenties, fertility is going to fall off a cliff. Globally, I mean. All of a sudden people stop conceiving babies, even in…

Tales from the Time Lounge — Part Two

Photo by PIOTR BENE on Unsplash

— My friends think I’m weird, a Neo-Luddite, because I still use a keyboard.

— They’re using voice recognition?

— No, they’re all chipped. They only have to think of a query and they get the answer in front of their eyes. I was a holdout on the chipping programme. I’ve got plenty of tech, but it’s all external.

— Chipping sounds great to me. When does it come in?

— You won’t have long to wait. I had an unusual childhood though — my Dad used to read paper books. You can’t find them now, outside of a museum.

Tales from the Time Lounge


The rash impulses that occasionally shake me out of my senescent torpor are, I’m now sure, the interventions of my younger self, calling to me across the ages to wake up and live a little. I’m also starting to think that the voice of reason which I tried to ignore as a youngster was my current self trying to put a brake on my wilder excesses.

These inter-generational interventions always go the “wet route”, via thoughts, imagination, spiritual paths if you will. All deniable by a dispassionate observer in the cold light of day.

I’ve just had one experience of…

Mark Kelly

Writing about family, trading, spirituality and popular culture. Speculating in my fiction and investments. Made more mistakes than I’m admitting here.

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