A couple of weeks ago I spent an evening in a dark, cramped bar full of pirate kitsch with a bunch of people who could have stepped out of the science fiction novel of your choice (yes, even the old-school Shadowrun novels). Collectively, we had more electronic equipment than NASA at the times we were born on our person. None of were particularly aware of life imitating science fiction (or is it science fiction predicting life?) or of the horrors occurring around us at the time. On top of all of that, we all sat around appreciating a belly dancer …