Lottery Books

“If your ship goes down in the middle of the open water, you don't give up and sink. You tread water, clutch onto a spar, do 'something'."

He stopped, wrung his hands.

"Realistically speaking, if you're in the middle of the sea, you're a goner. But you tread water until you can't kick another stroke. Not because you're optimistic. I you polled ten random shipwreck victims treading open water in open sea, every one would tell you they're not optimistic. What they are is 'hopeful'. Or at least not hope-'empty'. They don't give up because that means death and living people can sometimes change their situations, while dead ones can't change a fucking thing. I've never been lost at sea, but I think if your buddy was weaker than you, and you were holding him up, you'd kick just as hard, because you'd be hoping for both of you. Because giving up for someone else is even harder than giving up for you."

"Now I'm walkaway, I've been shot at and chased from my home, but I can't feature going back to default, because default is the bottom of the sea and walkaway is a floating stick we can clutch. Default has no use for us except as a competition for other non-zottas, someone who'll do someone else's job if they get too uppity and demand to be treated as human beings instead of marginal costs. We are surplus to default's requirements. If they could, they'd sink us. So what we're doing, Gretyl, is exercising hope. It's all you can do when the situation calls for pessimism. Most people who hope have their hopes dashed. That's realism, but everyone whose hopes 'weren't' dashed 'started off by having hope'. Hope's the price of admission. It's still a lotto with shitty odds, but at least it's our lotto. Treading water in default thinking you might become a zotta is playing a lotto you can't win, and whose winners - the zottas - get to keep winning at your expense because you keep playing. Hope's what we're doing. Performing hope, treading water in open ocean with no rescue in sight.”
― Cory Doctorow, Walkaway