10-23-2026 [draft essay]

The entertainment paradox

I am struggling with the entertainment paradox. A contrast of two narrative engines. It’s like spitting into the wind.

In tales where hope is fragile and desperation abounds, do we celebrate individual exceptionalism—witty, charming heros (reluctant or rogue) outwitting a bad guy; or communal exceptionalism—meritorious, dedicated collectives overcoming villainy?

When crafting sci-fi stories of trailblazing salvation—wagon trains to other worlds, whether that be to haven, heaven, or the stars—do we, in effect, say “goodbye” to physics, “hello” to a genie, or “thank you” for relationality?

Is salvation merely a change of venue—a lucky ticket into a safe harbor, or a low-stakes relocation offer? If so, hope rests entirely in a locality. But if the journey itself is the prize, our hope shifts toward ongoing transformation and the relationality discovered while underway.

This tension is starkly apparent when contrasting the magical mechanisms of Alan Dean Foster’s Lost on Paradise with the slow pilgrimage between stars in my own Calliope’s Reach. Foster’s tease functions like an alien race suddenly presenting a read-only feed akin to an interplanetary Zillow advert: “Check out the listings, we’ll take care of all the details, what have you got to lose?” It is an invitation by a genie.

Advocating an alternative narrative engine is a heavy lift, facing the embedded strengths of a longstanding, mainstream engine (no matter how repetitive its outputs have become).