Friday - October 14, 2011

Think and Grow Rich

Some of you know that I’ve been unemployed since April. I quit. Voluntarily. Which means I’m not eligible for unemployment welfare. I quit knowing that. I also knew I had savings to fall back on. And, ultimately, I can cash-out my retirement funds. Sure I’ll take a tax penalty for early withdrawal. But under Obamanomics, seems like the lesser evil in view of the massive inflation Obamanomics is already causing. Not to mention that Democrats are already considering seizing retirement accounts (401(k), IRAs, etc) to bolster Social Security. Take the money I saved and run!

Meanwhile, between jobs I’ve been rereading the classic Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it to you. Back when I was a dance teacher, the boss started off each day by having us read, out loud, passages from Think and Grow Rich. It’s a highly motivating book. Especially useful in the demotivating Obama misAdministration.

I’d just like to offer this quote from the book:

During the first World War, a Chicago newspaper published certain editorials in which, among other statements, Henry Ford was called “an ignorant pacifist.” Mr. Ford objected to the statements, and brought suit against the paper for libeling him. When the suit was tried in the courts, the attorneys for the paper pleaded justification, and placed Mr. Ford on the witness stand for the purpose of proving to the jury that he was ignorant. The attorneys asked Mr. Ford a great variety of questions, all of them intended to prove that while he might possess considerable specialized knowledge pertaining to the manufacture of automobiles, he was, in the main, ignorant.

Mr. Ford was plied with such questions as the following: “Who was Benedict Arnold?” and “How many soldiers did the British send over to America to put down the Rebellion of 1776?” In answer to the last question, Mr. Ford replied, “I do not know the exact number of soldiers the British sent over, but I have heard that it was a considerably larger number than ever went back.”

Finally Mr. Ford became tired of this line of questioning, and in reply to a particualrly offensive question, he leaned over, pointed his finger at the lawyer who had asked the question and said, “If I should really want to answer the foolish question you have just asked, or any of the other questions you have been asking me, let me remind you that I have a row of electric push-buttons on my desk, and by pushing the right button, I can summon to my aid men who can answer any question I desire to ask concerning the business to which I am devoting most of my efforts. Now, will you kindly tell me, why I should clutter up my mind with general knowledge, for the purpose of being able to answer questions, when I have men around me who can supply any knowledge I require?”

There is certainly was good logic to that reply.

That answer floored the lawyer. Every person in the courtroom realized it was the answer, not of an ignorant man, but of a man of education. Any man is educated who knows where to get knowledge when he needs it…

Being between jobs, I’m reading this again for uplifting motivation. Books like this tell me that–to coin a phrase–Yes, I can! Apologies, I know it’s close to a slogan our misAdministrator-in-Chief used. But note the difference: ‘I can’ vs ‘We can’. I’m taking responsibility if I fail. Those that follow the ‘We’ model will point fingers at others when they fail. See the current Occupy (insert city) protests.

Posted by Christopher     on 10/14/2011 at 11:08 AM   
Filed Under: • Editorials • Literature • Personal •  
• Comments (4) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Saturday - October 01, 2011

Terry Prachett tribute!

This guy sent me an email. He likes my Big Bang Theory that I posted on YouTube about a year ago. I like his post, so let me show you it.

Posted by Christopher     on 10/01/2011 at 02:29 PM   
Filed Under: • Celebrities • Literature •  
• Comments (0) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Sunday - August 28, 2011

What’s Christopher reading?

Actually, I read David Eddings books several years ago. But I’m now listening to the audiobooks. It’s amazing the little things you miss while reading that are hilarious if you actually hear them.

The audiobook is the Seeress of Kell. The fifth book of the Mallorean series. I just listened to this exchange in the audiobook and had to pull up my copy of the ebook to verify. They read it right:

And then, almost as if his memory had summoned her, the blindfolded Seeress of Kell emerged from the room in which the ladies had been conferring with their dressmakers. Immediately behind her came Ce’Nedra, clad only in a very short chemise. “It’s a perfectly suitable gown, Cyradis,” she was protesting.

“Suitable for thee perhaps, Queen of Riva,” the Seeress replied, “but such finery is not for me.”

“Ce’Nedra!” Garion exclaimed in a shocked gasp. “You’re not dressed!”

“Oh, bother that!” she snapped. “Everyone here has seen undressed women before. I’m just trying to reason with my mystical young friend here. Cyradis, if you don’t put on the gown, I’ll be very cross with you–and we really need to do something with your hair.”

The Seeress unerringly took the tiny queen in her arms and embraced her fondly. “Dear, dear Ce’Nedra,” she said gently, “thy heart is larger than thyself, and thy concern doth fill mine as well. I am content, however, in this simple garb. Mayhap in time my tastes will change, and then will I gladly submit to thy gentle ministrations.”

“There’s absolutely no talking to her,” Ce’Nedra said, throwing her arms in the air. Then, with a charming flirt of the hem of her chemise, she stormed back into the room from which the two of them had emerged.

“You ought to feed her more,” Beldin told Garion. “She’s really very skinny, you know.”

“I sort of like her the way she is,” Garion replied. He looked at Cyradis. “Will you sit, Holy Seeress?”

“If I may.”

“Of course.” He waved off Toth’s almost instinctive move to aid his mistress and guided the girl to a comfortable chair.

“I thank thee, Belgarion,” she said. “Thou art as kind as thou art brave.” She smiled, and it was like the sun coming up. She touched one hand to her hair. “Doth this really look so ugly?” she asked.

“It’s just fine, Cyradis,” he told her. “Ce’Nedra sometimes exaggerates, and she has an absolute passion for making people over–me, usually.”

“And dost thou mind her efforts, Belgarion?”

“I suppose not. I’d probably miss them if she didn’t try, at least.”

“Thou art caught in the snare of love, King Belgarion. Thou art a mighty sorcerer, but methinks thy little queen hath a more powerful sorcery yet, for she holds thee in the palm of that tiny hand.”

“That’s true, I suppose, but I don’t really mind all that much.”

“If this gets any more cloying, I think I’ll throw up,” Beldin said gruffly.

Beldin the Sorcerer is really funny, because at the end of the book, things get very cloying for Beldin.

A short intro to Nadrak society. If you buy a Nadrak woman, you just own her. Period. She got half of the sale price. You did NOT get any conjugal rights. Nadrak women carry at least four knives, which they are adept at using if you get too amorous. Now if you buy her, with the option to marry, she first will check you out. Then, if she agrees, at some point after you buy her she will surrender her knives to you. That’s her marriage vow.

So Beldin the Sorcerer buys Vella, and has to borrow money from Belgarath the Sorcerer. In full view of everybody, Vella immediately surrenders her knives to him. While all of the ladies present are crying, Beldin juggles her knives and makes them disappear. “I don’t need these.” he says. Then he leads Vella to a nearby hilltop, teaches her how to turn into a blue-banded hawk, and they both fly away, never to be seen again.

Posted by Christopher     on 08/28/2011 at 08:41 PM   
Filed Under: • Literature •  
• Comments (1) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Saturday - May 28, 2011

Bait

In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been re-reading Steven Brust’s Vlad Taltos books. This quote comes from book eight, Dragon:

“It seems to be the cause of all this unpleasantness; either the weapon, or the fact that he stole it, or…”

She waited. “Yes? Or?”

“Or something entirely different that I have no clue about. I always have to include that as one of the possibilities.”

She looked at me. “Well, you seem to be out of danger, and I have better ways to spend my time than to be interrogated by a Jhereg, so you’ll have to excuse me.”

“Hugs and kisses to you, too.”

She gave me a glance and floated out of the room. I carefully sat up, discovered that doing so hurt, and began looking around for my clothing.

“On the little table at the foot of the bed, Boss. You’re going to need a new shirt, and your trousers have some bloodstains.”

“All right. Feel like shopping?”

“Going to buy me something?”

“Like what?”

“Catnip.”

“Catnip? Does catnip affect you? When did you––?”

“Probably not. But I don’t want to eat it myself.”

“Then why––?”

“Bait,” said Loiosh.

Loiosh, Vlad’s pet venemous dragon, likes cats. Who knew? Oh yes, just to make it clear, Vlad ‘talks’ to Loiosh psionically. Their conversations are always in italics.

Posted by Christopher     on 05/28/2011 at 04:50 AM   
Filed Under: • Literature •  
• Comments (0) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Wednesday - May 25, 2011

More Vlad Taltos,

This quote is from the eleventh book, Jhegaala.

“Sit down,” I told him. He did, looking at me. I couldn’t identify all the emotions that passed over his face, but he was, at least, upset. That could mean anything.

He sat down and folded his hands in his lap. “What is it you wish of me, Lord Merss?”

“You talk, I listen.”

“Talk about...”

“History, Father. Not so ancient history.”

“History of—?”

“When a Count and a Baron went to war over whether peasants would be working land, or working in a paper mill.”

His eyebrows went up. “You would seem to know a great deal about it already.”

“You mean, more than those who believe stories of demons being summoned, and the ultimate war of good and evil, and barons who bathe in the blood of virgins?”

“Well, yes.” He smiled a little. “Didn’t quite buy that, eh?”

“I don’t believe in virgins.”

“Yes, I guess that is a bit hard to take, isn’t it?”

I don’t believe in virgins either. An easily curable disease.

Posted by Christopher     on 05/25/2011 at 09:23 AM   
Filed Under: • Literature •  
• Comments (0) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Thursday - May 19, 2011

Iorich, Vlad Taltos 12, the deleted scenes

I don’t know how many of you have read Steven Brust. His Vlad Taltos series is a must-read for any fantasy buff.

Anyway, at the end of the book twelve, Steve Brust included some ‘deleted scenes’.

DELETED SCENES

Various scenes had to be deleted for length or content. I thought some of you might be interested in them. They may appear when I release the Director’s Cut of this book. But don’t hold your breath.

—SKZB

Prologue, Outside Whitemill, Page 13

I pulled the arrow from my eye, hearing myself scream. At that moment, a blast of magic from one of them hit me, and I saw my leg fly off at the knee. I fell to the ground, reaching for Lady Teldra, but one of them came in with an ax and took my right hand off at the wrist.

The air seemed to take on an odd golden shimmer, and I heard the Necromancer’s voice come out of nowhere. “Through the Gate, Vlad. Hurry!”

“Uh, what?”

“You have to get out of here, Vlad. You’ve landed in a Tim Powers novel.”

I moaned even as I felt the Gate form.

Hard gray walls appeared around me, and I heard voices speaking a language I didn’t know. “Am I going to be safe here?”

“Well,” she said, “Not, you know, safe exactly.”

“Whose novel are we in now?”

“Uh ... John DeChancie’s, Vlad. Best I could do on short notice.”

I whimpered. “You couldn’t manage Louisa May Alcott?”

Chapter Two, Imperial Palace, Page 51

“I’m glad you’ve offered,” said the Empress. “Yes, there is a service you could do.”

“I’m listening.”

“Far, far to the East—well beyond the kingdoms you know—there is ancient evil that is gathering power to itself. Its power comes from an Amulet of Evil that dates back to before the beginning of time. The power of the Amulet grows with each act of cruelty, or thoughtlessness toward another, or abuse of power, or greed. The sell-out of the writers’ strike didn’t do it any harm either. Soon it will become unstoppable, and using it, the ancient evil will enslave the entire world forever. You must destroy the evil, and take the Amulet and cast it into the Place Beyond Time.”

I nodded. “All right.”

It took six weeks to get there and an hour to do the job. Fortunately, I was able to teleport back.

“It is done,” I told Her Majesty.

“Thank you, Lord Szurke,” she said. “Evil has been banished forever.”

“Until the sequel, you mean.”

“Of course.”

I shrugged. “Just proving I’m willing to serve Your Majesty.”

Chapter Five, Dzur Mountain Stairway, Page 103

“Well met, friend.”

I looked around, and noticed a splotchy brown cat on the landing just above me. I stared at it.

“Something wrong?” it said.

“What the hell are you?”

It rolled its eyes. “This is a fantasy novel. I’m the obligatory talking cat. Get a clue.”

“Boss, can I—”

“Sure.”

When Loiosh and Rocza had finished their meal, we continued up the stairs.

I feel this needs some explanation. Loiosh and Rocza are Vlad’s small, venomous, flying pet dragons. Usually perched on his shoulders. Loiosh can talk to Vlad mentally. Such conversations are in italics.

Chapter Seven, South Adrilankha, Page 143

“Boss, isn’t there supposed to be a scene here making fun of the old ‘weapons that drink souls’ thing that always comes up in bad fantasy novels?”

“Loiosh, in case you haven’t noticed, there are weapons that drink souls in these books.”

“Oh. Yeah. Good point. Guess we stay away from that one, huh?”

“Probably best.”

Chapter Eleven, South Adrilankha, Page 209

“Maybe I’ll go walk up to the cottage and ask for sanctuary,” I said. “And then maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt. Wait. I wouldn’t say that.”

YOU JUST DID.

“I don’t care. I wouldn’t say that. It isn’t even a Dragaeran idiom.”

IT IS NOW.

“That’s stupid. There aren’t any monkeys here.”

SO NOW YOU’RE AN EXPERT ON DRAGAERAN FAUNA?

“I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

THAT’S WHAT I DO.

“Yeah, you and Tom Cruise. Just lose the monkey bit, okay?”

I LIKE IT.

“You also like it when I figure out how to get out of those messes you put me in. Now, you want me on your side, or not?”

YOU WANT TO BE ALIVE AT THE END OF THIS BOOK, OR NOT?

I sighed. “Maybe I’ll go walk up to the cottage and ask for sanctuary,” I said. “And then maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt.”

Chapter Fourteen, Outside the Imperial Palace, Page 262

I cut through the park, smiling at all the butterflies. I started skipping. It was such a beautiful day. A puppy barked playfully at me and I stopped to pet it. It seemed so happy, I couldn’t help but sing a cheerful song to it before I went on my way, still skipping.

Posted by Christopher     on 05/19/2011 at 03:39 AM   
Filed Under: • Literature •  
• Comments (0) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Wednesday - March 02, 2011

I won!

I don’t know if many of you are fans of Graphic Audio, but I’m here to tell you that I won a freebie GraphicAudio product. I have absolutely no idea of what they are going to send. Probably some product line that hasn’t been selling well.

But I’m on their email list and am a customer. Last week I got an email stating that the first twenty people who scored 90% on the quiz would get a gift from GraphicAudio. I took the test; it was about Anya Creed and the Rogue Angel series. I scored 100%. Not because I’d listened to the GraphicAudio books. I’ve read about 15 books in the series. I will say I was appalled to find out that the books were published, admittedly under another imprint, by Harlequin Romance.

Back to Graphic Audio. I highly recommend the Deathlands series. And the derivative Outlanders series. The Rogue Angel series is good, but I liked the books better. If there are any Simon R. Green fans out there, they did a very good job on ‘Blue Moon Rising’. Blue Moon Rising is hilarious while still being very serious. Our hero rescues the dragon from the princess. But that happens later. The first clue that this is abnormal fantasy is that our hero rides a unicorn. Remember, we’re talking about a Prince here. And remember what legends say about who can ride a unicorn? And did I mention that the unicorn is gay?

Regardless, at the end of the book our hero, Rodney, is no longer qualified to ride a unicorn! That’s the princess’ fault. But she and the dragon are still with him. The same dragon he rescued from the Princess. 

Posted by Christopher     on 03/02/2011 at 09:00 AM   
Filed Under: • Literature • Personal •  
• Comments (4) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Thursday - January 06, 2011

the ethnic cleansing of huckleberry finn in our new pc dictated world

Saw yesterday’s post by Drew when booting with the intent of posting this very interesting piece by Christopher Howse, who is generally the religious editor for the Telegraph among other job titles.

This story also has it’s origins in the USA, and the remarks about pc are right on target.

Here’s the whole editorial on the subject of that now forbidden word. 

Huckleberry Finn loses the ‘nigger’ he loves, thanks to a publisher’s ethnic cleansing

By Christopher Howse Literature

There is a great fuss in America about a new edition of Huckleberry Finn from which the word nigger has been excised. It occurs in the novel 217 times, or 219 (tallies vary, and I have lost count), so its loss makes quite a difference. It is like The Merchant of Venice without the word Jew.

Indeed Jew is far more pejorative in the mouths of Shakespeare’s characters than nigger is in the mouths of some of Mark Twain’s. Launcelot Gobbo, Shylock’s servant, resolves to run away, and declares: “I am a Jew if I serve the Jew any longer.”

We readers of Shakespeare and Mark Twain do not dislike black people or Jewish people. Yet we can be more certain that Twain did not hate blacks than that Shakespeare was not anti-Semitic. Anyone would have to be not only stupid but a fool to miss the fact that Mark Twain was on the side of Jim, the runaway slave in Huckleberry Finn.

Even if we cannot be sure that Shakespeare wasn’t anti-Semitic, should it mean that teenagers at school must never read The Merchant of Venice again? Or, if we are doubtful about Thomas Carlyle’s attitude to emancipated slaves, does that mean nobody should peruse his discourse from 1853, On the Nigger Question?
Striking out the word nigger every time it appears in Huckleberry Finn is a kind of ethnic cleansing, a pretence that in the land of the free no one referred to black people by a demeaning term once the Civil War had been won.

Worse, it is to confuse a word with a system of thought. For something really hair-raising on race, look up the “scientific” approach of the 11th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica under the entry Negro. “The recognised leaders of the race are almost invariably persons of mixed blood,” it declares, “and the qualities which have made them leaders are derived certainly in part and perhaps mainly from their white ancestry.”

Mark Twain was having none of this. Huckleberry Finn is about the moral education of its hero. At first he is scandalised that his friend Tom Sawyer should be willing to help Jim escape from his “owner”. “I couldn’t believe it. Tom Sawyer a nigger-stealer! ” Huck believes that stealing will send him to hell, but, in a crux of the plot, he chooses to risk hellfire rather than betray Jim.

Huck learns Jim has feelings too, after hurting them by playing a trick on him. He apologises. “It was fifteen minutes,” Huck explains, “before I could work myself up to go and humble myself to a nigger; but I done it, and I warn’t ever sorry for it afterwards, neither.” How would that sentence be improved by changing nigger to slave, as the new publishers have done?

Huckleberry Finn has a happy ending of sorts, for Jim is freed. But Huck himself is the one who has no place in civilised society, and he hatches a plan to head off for “Injun” territory. Only, of course, the publishers can’t let the word Injun sully the minds of the impressionable young either.

The position of black people in America is only one strand of Huckleberry Finn, but it is the dominating theme of Twain’s very interesting problem tale Pudd’nhead Wilson. It concerns two babies, one regarded as a “nigger” though only one-32nd part black, the other the heir to the local estate. As in The Prince and the Pauper, Mark Twain has fun when they are swapped. Yet he calls his story a tragedy.

The child brought up as the heir goes to the bad, behaves badly to black people, and turns to murder. The amiable child brought up as a “nigger” is at last rewarded by being recognised as the heir. But he can never feel comfortable among white people, because of his speech and manners.
It’s nurture, not nature that makes the man, Twain suggests. For him, the problem is not “Niggaz with Attitude” but the attitude to “niggers”.

HOWSE AT THE TELEGRAPH

Posted by peiper     on 01/06/2011 at 08:37 AM   
Filed Under: • Literature • USA •  
• Comments (2) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Wednesday - August 18, 2010

Time Out To Read

I’ve been chewing my way through Ken Follet’s World Without End for the past couple of days. At nearly 1100 pages it’s a pretty long read. Very interesting book. In theory it’s the sequel to his Pillars of the Earth from 18 years ago, but that’s only true peripherally. It’s set in the same town, the mythical Kingsbridge, which is somewhere in Peiper’s corner of England. 200 years have gone by since the story told in Pillars, but it’s still the middle Middle Ages in Britain so things haven’t changed a heck of a lot. Follet is a master of character development, and his stories are all very involving.

I’m at the halfway point, and what I’m noticing is not just how awful, unjust, one sided, and utterly stupid the 14th century was, but how strongly his picture of life back then seems to mirror life today. Ok, granted, things aren’t quite so bleak or violent now. We don’t have knights and barons running around raping and killing people because they feel like it. And we don’t have a poorly educated, highly selfish Church owning and running everything. But we do have an emerging class of elites who do seem to be above the law in many ways. And even though those at the top exist because of taxes and tithes on the serfs and tradespeople, they don’t seem to feel much responsibility to them. Oh, as Lord of this demesnes my little nose is out of joint because I was embarrassed because I was caught red-handed committing a horrible crime for which, as a member of the gentry, I was not punished for, but I’ll let the village starve to punish them for embarrassing me. Oh yeah? Well as prior of the cathedral my nose is even more out of joint because the peasants have found several ways to make money that don’t involve giving it all to the church or even letting me tax it to death, so I’ll do whatever I can to thwart them. Cutting off my nose to spite my face? Who cares, as long as I still have the power! Sounds awfully familiar to modern times in many ways. We don’t strictly have “privilege” these days - literally a private ledger, meaning one set of laws for the commoners, and one extra flexible set of laws for the rich - but it sure seems that way when I look at the endless scandals and corruption in government.

Pillars of the Earth eventually got me down. The first time or two that I read it, it was all about the amazement of building a massive stone cathedral using little more than hammers and ox carts, and the technology of that benighted time. After that I soured on the book, because by my third or fourth time through it I lost compassion for the lead characters, whose lives were a never ending series of death, starvation, disease, disappointments, and being screwed over by the folks in charge, mostly because they didn’t buck the system. Or couldn’t. Whatever, the story became Loserama to me, and I gave the book away. 18 years later for me and 200 years later for them, and I’m wishing the peasants had machine guns and artillery. This book’s newer more “modern” world has the beginnings of the rise of the merchant class, but society itself is still rather static. A static culture is a rotting culture, no matter how happy people may be by avoiding change and relying on “that’s how we’ve always done it”. And any progress from a static culture that does not move in a direction of more economic and personal freedom for the lower parts of society is a move towards slavery. Or serfdom. As Follet’s two books in this epoch show, there isn’t a helluva big difference. Unarmed, uneducated, landless, taxed to the edge of starvation, and kept in place by elitist “government” and knot-headed unionism (the ubiquitous and change resistant Guilds of that period), they exist to suffer for their better’s profit. If only they would rise up. If only WE would rise up.

Posted by Drew458     on 08/18/2010 at 10:47 AM   
Filed Under: • Editorials • Literature •  
• Comments (3) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Sunday - August 15, 2010

Weekend Parodies

Wow! I was looking on YouTube for Bored of the Rings postings. I found some but they were…boring.

But, the Lord of the Rings parodies were…well…

I post, you decide.

Gods! The things I watch for BMEWS…

“Okay. Let’s get this bitch to Mt. Doom!”  

Posted by Christopher     on 08/15/2010 at 12:39 PM   
Filed Under: • Fun-Stuff • Humor • Literature •  
• Comments (3) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Sunday - July 18, 2010

Today’s Literary Quote

If you haven’t read any of Simon R. Green’s books you are missing some serious entertainment. His stuff is so good that GraphicAudio has done ‘Blue Moon Rising’.

Simon R. Green does not respect formula. In Blue Moon Rising, our hero is sent off on his unicorn…to save a princess from a dragon…

My first clue that this was not normal fantasy was that our hero was riding a unicorn. You do remember who can ride a unicorn? Gets even better after he rescues the dragon from the princess…(bet you didn’t see that coming either). Turns out that the princess can’t ride the unicorn. It turns out well. After much fighting and bloodshed, our hero can no longer ride a unicorn at the end of the book!

Well, I’m not reading that book. I’m in book 3 of the Secret Histories: The Spy Who Haunted Me. Get this quote:

While the water was boiling to make us a second cup, Honey produced a large knife from somewhere and slipped off into the darkness. Her white cat-suited figure glimmered briefly here and there in the darkness like a ghost that couldn’t make up its mind whether or not to materialise. There was a certain amount of crashing about, followed by some loud splashing, and then Honey returned triumphantly with a large dead beaver she’d caught and killed on the riverbank. She skinned and prepared the thing with expert skill, and soon enough there was meat roasting on pointed sticks over the fire. It actually smelled pretty good. One beaver doesn’t go all that far between five people, and the taste was…interesting, but we were all hungry, and no one turned up their nose. Walker ate his with great enthusiasm and actually licked the grease from his fingers when he’d finished. The Blue Fairy started to smirk.

“Don’t,” Honey said sternly. “I have already worked out every possible permutation of any joke involving the words eat and beaver. Also, I have a gun, and I will shoot you.”

I do so love possibly fatal humor like that. 

Posted by Christopher     on 07/18/2010 at 03:10 PM   
Filed Under: • Humor • Literature •  
• Comments (0) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Thursday - July 08, 2010

Today’s Literary Quote

Formerly known as ‘What’s Christopher Reading’, I decided to change the title.

I’m reading Simon R. Green’s Secret History series. Book Two - Daemons Are Forever. (Mr. Green seems to like parodies of Bond books.)

Our hero Edwin is busy with an elf-lord. Two of Frankenstein’s monsters are ganging up on his girlfriend Molly the witch. Simon R. Green is really a sick man. Who else could imagine this?

By now everyone else in the cafe had run for the doors, not wanting to tangle with a Drood in full armour, and I was happy enough to see them go. They would only have got in the way. The two Frankenstein creatures had closed in on Molly, reaching out for her with their large, mismatched hands. Molly laughed in their ugly faces, and hit them with a simple spell that made all their stitches come undone at once. The two monsters cried out in harsh, hopeless voices as ancient cat gut exploded like rows of firecrackers in their skin, undoing them like zippers. They fell apart, bit by bit, their separate pieces pattering to the floor, slowly at first and then in a rush. Hands fell from arms, arms from elbows and then from shoulders. Legs collapsed. Torsos hit the floor hard and opened up, spilling long-dead preserved organs onto the floor. The heads were the last to go, features slipping one by one from the faces, until finally the skulls cracked open and the dry, gray brains fell out.

By then I had my own problems. The elf lord was closing in on me, smiling his nasty, superior smile.

Moral? Witches are bitches. They do not appreciate fine stitching.

Posted by Christopher     on 07/08/2010 at 12:56 PM   
Filed Under: • Humor • Literature •  
• Comments (0) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Sunday - June 27, 2010

The normal functions of government

I’m really amazed at all the little nuggets of wisdom one can glean from fiction books. Still reading David Eddings works, now working through The Demon Lord of Karanda, book III of the Mallorean series. In this we discover the normal functions of government:

“The imperial palace,” Zakath said indifferently. He frowned. “What have you done over there?” he asked Brador, pointing at a long row of tall buildings rising near the south wall of the enclosed compound.

Brador coughed delicately. “Those are the bureaucratic offices, your Majesty,” he replied in a neutral tone. “You’ll recall that you authorized their construction just before the battle of Thull Mardu.”

Zakath pursed his lips. “I hadn’t expected something on quite such a grand scale,” he said.

“There are quite a lot of us, your Majesty,” Brador explained, “and we felt that things might be more harmonious if each bureau had its own building.” He looked a bit apologetic. “We really did need the space,” he explained defensively to Sadi. “We were all jumbled together with the military, and very often men from different bureaus had to share the same office. It’s really much more efficient this way, wouldn’t you say?”

“I think I’d prefer it if you didn’t involve me in this discussion, your Excellency,” Sadi answered.

“I was merely attempting to draw upon your Excellency’s expertise in managing affairs of state.”

“Salmissra’s palace is somewhat unique,” Sadi told him. “We like being jumbled together. It gives us greater opportunities for spying and murder and intrigue and the other normal functions of government.”

(emphasis added)

Sigh… don’t you wish the Obamaskyites would content themselves with the ‘normal functions of government’ and leave the rest of us alone?

Posted by Christopher     on 06/27/2010 at 12:16 PM   
Filed Under: • Government • Humor • Literature •  
• Comments (3) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

   Monday - June 14, 2010

What’s Christopher reading redux

Well, I’m still on my David Eddings kick. I’ve finished the Belgariad and the Mallorean. Also finished Belgarath the Sorcerer. Currently on Polgara the Sorceress who is Belgarath’s surviving daughter. I first read these in the early 2000’s, before, during, and after 9/11. Eddings died in 2009 I saddened to learn.

But I just had to share this passage. Polgara should have been a lawyer.

I hadn’t altered Alreg’s size, nor tampered in any way with his clothing, so there was a man-sized toad in a mail-shirt and with a sword belted at its thick waist crouched bug-eyed on the royal throne, croaking in a shrill kind of panic.

The entire process had taken several minutes, and since Alreg’s throne stood upon a dais, it had been visible to every Cherek, drunk or sober, in the entire hall.

I sensed one of the bearded Chereks behind me reaching for his sword. When he grasped what he thought was his sword-hilt, though, he wrapped his hand firmly about the head and neck of a large, angry snake instead. “Don’t do that any more,” I told him, without bothering to look around. “You’d better tell your retainers here to behave themselves, Alreg,” I suggested to the enthroned toad. “That’s unless you have replacements handy. My Father doesn’t want me to kill people, but I think I can get around that. I’ll just bury them without bothering to kill them first. They’ll probably die of natural causes–after a while so Father won’t have any cause for complaint, now will he?”

Emphasis added.

Honestly, Hollywood is churning out remakes of The Karate Kid and Red Dawn. Why can’t Hollywood tackle some really interesting stuff like the Eddings books?

Posted by Christopher     on 06/14/2010 at 08:10 PM   
Filed Under: • Humor • Literature •  
• Comments (7) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

DISCLAIMER

THE SERVICES AND MATERIALS ON THIS WEBSITE ARE PROVIDED "AS IS" AND THE HOSTS OF THIS SITE EXPRESSLY DISCLAIMS ANY AND ALL WARRANTIES, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, TO THE EXTENT PERMITTED BY LAW INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF SATISFACTORY QUALITY, MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE, WITH RESPECT TO THE SERVICE OR ANY MATERIALS.

Not that very many people ever read this far down, but this blog was the creation of Allan Kelly and his friend Vilmar. Vilmar moved on to his own blog some time ago, and Allan ran this place alone until his sudden and unexpected death partway through 2006. We all miss him. A lot. Even though he is gone this site will always still be more than a little bit his. We who are left to carry on the BMEWS tradition owe him a great debt of gratitude, and we hope to be able to pay that back by following his last advice to us all:

1. Keep a firm grasp of Right and Wrong
2. Stay involved with government on every level and don't let those bastards get away with a thing
3. Use every legal means to defend yourself in the event of real internal trouble, and, most importantly:
4. Keep talking to each other, whether here or elsewhere

It's been a long strange trip without you Skipper, but thanks for pointing us in the right direction and giving us a swift kick in the behind to get us going. Keep lookin' down on us, will ya? Thanks.

THE INFORMATION AND OTHER CONTENTS OF THIS WEBSITE ARE DESIGNED TO COMPLY WITH THE LAWS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. THIS WEBSITE SHALL BE GOVERNED BY AND CONSTRUED IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE LAWS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA AND ALL PARTIES IRREVOCABLY SUBMIT TO THE JURISDICTION OF THE AMERICAN COURTS. IF ANYTHING ON THIS WEBSITE IS CONSTRUED AS BEING CONTRARY TO THE LAWS APPLICABLE IN ANY OTHER COUNTRY, THEN THIS WEBSITE IS NOT INTENDED TO BE ACCESSED BY PERSONS FROM THAT COUNTRY AND ANY PERSONS WHO ARE SUBJECT TO SUCH LAWS SHALL NOT BE ENTITLED TO USE OUR SERVICES UNLESS THEY CAN SATISFY US THAT SUCH USE WOULD BE LAWFUL.

Copyright © 2004-2008 Domain Owner