iVerse and Top Shelf have teamed up to offer the entire first series of The Surrogates on iTunes. The first issue is available as a free app, with a second app offering the first and second issues (and the chance to purchase the remaining three) for just 99 cents. If you're looking for something to do with your iPhone besides playing Toy Story Mania, there are much worse ways to spend your weekend. Plus, you won't be distracted by Bruce Willis' wig.

The Surrogates #1 [iTunes]

As if the grouchy Batman and swimming-pool-appearing Aquaman aren't enough to make you love Medeiros - creator of the webcomic Sopa de Salsicha ("Sausage Soup," if Google's translatobots are to be believed) - there's also his cute take on Star Wars' second-greatest double act to win you over:
Get this man working on a Star Wars comic immediately! Or a Batman comic! Or anything, really.

Parte 1 de 5 (Story continues from there) [Hellatoons]

The pop cultural meeting of minds comes courtesy of Jane Espenson and artist Karl Moline in the latest issue of the webcomic anthology MySpace Dark Horse Presents; not only does it advance the current storyline running in the monthly Buffy Season 8 comic, but it also gives us a chance to discover just what Harmony's "Colbert Bumps" actually are. Sadly, it's not as dirty as it sounds.

Harmony Comes To The Nation [MySpace]

Here's a great scene where Ong talks to his editor, who is upset because our hero refuses to write about celebrities and "news you can use." Instead, he focuses entirely on environmental issues:

I try to protest. “But you hired me to write the important stories. The stories about politics and the government, to continue the traditions of the old newspapers. I remember what you said when you hired me.”

“Yeah, well.” She looks away. “I was thinking more about a good scandal.”

“The checkerspot is a scandal. That butterfly is now gone.”

She sighs. “No, it’s not a scandal. It’s just a depressing story. No one reads a depressing story, at least, not more than once. And no one subscribes to a depressing byline feed.”

“A thousand people do.”

“A thousand people.” She laughs. “We aren’t some Laotian community weblog, we’re Milestone, and we’re competing for clicks with them.” She waves outside, indicating the maelstrom. “Your stories don’t last longer than half a day; they never get social-poked by anyone except a fringe.” She shakes her head. “Christ, I don’t even know who your demographic is. Centenarian hippies? Some federal bureaucrats? The numbers just don’t justify the amount of time you spend on stories.”

“What stories do you wish me to write?”

“I don’t know. Anything. Product reviews. News you can use. Just not any more of this ‘we regret to inform you of bad news’ stuff. If there isn’t something a reader can do about the damn butterfly, then there’s no point in telling them about it. It just depresses people, and it depresses your numbers.”

There's a lot of good stuff in Bacigalupi's story, and he offers a pretty accurate sense of how it feels to try to write good stories while tracking audience attention at a micro-level. Interestingly he doesn't take the easy route and set up the Gawker-esque new media companies as the bad guys. The celebrity stalkers and gadget hounds aren't craven idiots - they're good reporters, too, in their own way. One even tries to help Ong get his numbers back up.

But Ong only wants to focus on stories that are beloved by scientists and policy wonks, and they don't represent a demographic the advertisers care about. Interwoven throughout Ong's tale of his struggle to stay competitive in the newsroom are his memories of his father, kidnapped by the secret police during a future Laotian revolution that puts a conservative monarchy in power. Ong's past and political interests are about to propel him into the biggest celebrity gossip news story to hit the feeds in hours . . .

You can now read "The Gambler" for free online here, or pick up a copy of the awesome anthology Fast Forward 2 where it first appeared in print.

"The Only Known Jump" originally appeared in The Magazine Of Fantasy & Science Fiction's August 2003 issue, and F&SF is posting it online as part of their monthly free fiction program. The story has a nice blend of paying tribute to 1920s science (Albert Einstein is just developing his theories about space-time, and the time machine resembles a Van De Graaf generator) and a lush, quasi-poetic look at a budding relationship in the 1920s. The thing that makes it click, for me, is the sexual undercurrent in all of this — the time machine resembles a huge penis, and it's the catalyst that forces tailor Enzo Capellino and spinster Lydia Chase to acknowledge their mutual attraction:

Enzo threw open the lattice door and started out to meet her just as Lydia started in, the two clutching each other as the first lightning bolt unfurled and snapped overhead like a colossal whip. The hair on Enzo's chest burst into flame, scorching Lydia's breasts. The world overflowed with light as every nail and rivet, every garden tool, the cast iron garden chair and even the garden itself surged toward them, all the while flaring apart, coming undone. "Yes!" Lydia thought — or maybe she actually cried aloud — "Yes! We're at the front edge of now and these are the raveled threads of space-time."

It's almost too cute, and yet it works. My only reservation is that you may find the actual nature of the time travel to be a bit of a cheat. [FSF]