I belong in the list of sf writers whose name begins with C, such as Arthur C Clarke and Orson Scott Card.
I also belong in several lists of <insert profession here> blahblahyada. A guy on Portola Avenue reminds me of Asimov, and you can fit a nice cluster bomb on a remote controlled toy helicopter, can't you? Precision *and* collateral damage, cluster bomb indeed! And you don't even need to be Japanese! [boss, tighten your swing, the speed is okay] Lubs na lubs, Ayn Rand. Can someone confirm that she is was bakatare, or did she become like me in the end?
