mikailborg (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mikailborg) wrote2004-07-12 09:58 am
mikailborg) wrote2004-07-12 09:58 am
Monday POEE e-supplement
Officials discuss postponing Election Day, fearing terrorism: would this not be another case of handing terrorists the very victory they ask for, that of disrupting our society and political process? Assuming an attack was planned, would not competent terrorists be able to adjust their plans for a postponement? Do we really want to give our government the power to delay elections as long as they feel necessary? When I was younger, I read the Reader's Digest version of The R Document; a tale of a government conspiracy to declare martial law in the US and suspend the Bill of Rights indefinitely. Of course, I enjoyed it as a fantasy tale that "can't happen here".
Speaking of reading, I finished Perdido Street Station this weekend. I picked up the book after hearing much hype about this winner of multiple awards and runner-up for others. It's a magesteampunk alternate reality novel that turns out to mainly be about excrement. Really. Excrement as building material, excrement as sculpting material, excrement as food, excrement as psychotropic drug. The author seems to mention it on nearly every one of the book's over 600 pages, exhausting the English language's store of synonyms for it. (I hadn't really realized there were so many.) Oh, there's a bit of a plot about 5 sentience-eating demons let loose on The City by incompetence, which must be defeated by a small group of rejects who are being pursued by every legitimate and illegitimate authority for all the wrong reasons. The resolution is sudden and somewhat unconnected to the rest of the story, as if the author finally grew tired, ended the book, and went back and dropped in a few lines in earlier chapters to make it look like he'd been planning this. It's the sort of book where intelligent, cunning people do stupid, baseless things solely to make the main characters more miserable.
I could go on, but I'll spare everyone. I guess I'm just disappointed because the author dragged me into the book with imagination, creativity, and descriptive ability which ultimately went nowhere and finished with the stock (blank)punk ending. And I'm amazed at the number of fawning reviews. Maybe I'm turning into an old cranky fan. "Hey! You cyborg kids get off my ultra-lawn!"
Okay, that's out of my system, now here's the link to the Battle Cattle plushies![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shrewlet saw at Origins; and a link to a depiction of Anthrocon in a furry reality.
I just felt like adding this, too. I'm not sure why. From Quotes from Principia Discordia:
THE CURSE OF GREYFACE
Speaking of reading, I finished Perdido Street Station this weekend. I picked up the book after hearing much hype about this winner of multiple awards and runner-up for others. It's a magesteampunk alternate reality novel that turns out to mainly be about excrement. Really. Excrement as building material, excrement as sculpting material, excrement as food, excrement as psychotropic drug. The author seems to mention it on nearly every one of the book's over 600 pages, exhausting the English language's store of synonyms for it. (I hadn't really realized there were so many.) Oh, there's a bit of a plot about 5 sentience-eating demons let loose on The City by incompetence, which must be defeated by a small group of rejects who are being pursued by every legitimate and illegitimate authority for all the wrong reasons. The resolution is sudden and somewhat unconnected to the rest of the story, as if the author finally grew tired, ended the book, and went back and dropped in a few lines in earlier chapters to make it look like he'd been planning this. It's the sort of book where intelligent, cunning people do stupid, baseless things solely to make the main characters more miserable.
I could go on, but I'll spare everyone. I guess I'm just disappointed because the author dragged me into the book with imagination, creativity, and descriptive ability which ultimately went nowhere and finished with the stock (blank)punk ending. And I'm amazed at the number of fawning reviews. Maybe I'm turning into an old cranky fan. "Hey! You cyborg kids get off my ultra-lawn!"
Okay, that's out of my system, now here's the link to the Battle Cattle plushies
shrewlet saw at Origins; and a link to a depiction of Anthrocon in a furry reality.I just felt like adding this, too. I'm not sure why. From Quotes from Principia Discordia:
THE CURSE OF GREYFACE
- In the year 1166 B.C., a malcontented hunchbrain by the name of Greyface, got it into his head that the universe was as humorless as he, and he began to teach that play was sinful because it contradicted the ways of Serious Order. "Look at all that order about you," he said. And from that, he deluded honest men to believe that reality was a straightjacket affair and not the happy romance as men had known it.
- It is not presently understood why men were so gullible at that particular time, for absolutely no one thought to observe all the DISORDER around them and conclude just the opposite. But anyway, Greyface and his followers took the game of playing at life more seriously than they took life itself and were known even to destroy other living beings whose ways of life differed from their own.
- The unfortunate result of this is that mankind has since been suffering from a psychological and spiritual imbalance. Imbalance causes frustration, and frustration causes fear. And fear makes a bad trip. Man has been on a bad trip for a long time now. It is called THE CURSE OF GREYFACE.
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