Today has been spent reviewing a draft contract, so haven’t had time to craft engaging thoughts. As compensation, here’s an amusing little film that’s tangentially related to my day:
Law and popular culture are filled with examples of persons having total authority over their own property. Which raises the question whether a vampire requires permission to enter the house that they owned while a human. …
I had a conversation over the weekend about whether certain genres need to be about particular things or whether they can be an aesthetic. And, as is common with discussion of genre boundaries, the discussion soon sent out a tendril into the field of literature vs. genre fiction. While the difference—if any—between literary and genre fiction is of interest to me, I was more intrigued by the question of whether the reverse of magical realism existed: a genre version of literature. So, I experimented with a pulp version of the opening of an American classic. I present it below, not to prove or disprove a hypothesis but in the hope it will amuse. …
As further evidence of a universe that basks in blessed madness, Episode 92 of the Geek Podcast: The Nasgûl & The Bus Driver makes passing reference to one of my moments of Yog-Sothothic whimsy. For those seeking the ultimate in roiling blasphemy, it’s also on iTunes.
Should you feel mentally prepared for those secrets Charlie Hooper refused to share, I reproduce my suggestions of films altered by the name Cthulhu below: Correlate the contents of your mind…
There are two sorts of people in the world: people who are not involved in a legal proceedings, who think that the law is somewhat ridiculous; and people who are involved in legal proceedings, who think that the law is of the utmost seriousness. However, it can’t be denied that there are sometimes cases that tickle my fancy; although not always for the reasons they please most. …
“My theory? These are what kept humans from dying out like the Torgal.” Ambassador Zarlec pointed a spindly finger at a cabinet.
“Not just spoons. Horn spoons. Wooden spoons.”
The ambassador’s eyes flickered grey with embarrassment. “If you focus the emitter from a portable scanner just right, you can make metal twist. When you’re young… you know how trends happen… cutlery bending just took off.”
“That was your people playing a prank?”
“The Torgal discovered metal early. Their brains were still evolving; I think they became too terrified of cutlery to eat.”
Basildon Watt glanced down. Brass jaws snapped shut inches below as the clockwork alligators strained for his feet. Maybe not the best day to show off his new hand-stitched brogues after all.
Not that he’d notice their demise. The scrolling laser would reach him well before one of the mechanical lizards got around to standing on it’s fellows.
“The orbital mining was obviously for the engagement ring, Don Pagliacci. But, why kidnap the world’s leading experts on Mustelidae?”
Pagliacci waved his cigar dramatically. “Isn’t it obvious, Mr Watt? I’m going to make the world an otter it can’t defuse!”
Sentence 99%. Approximately 13 minutes remaining.
A few more wrinkles and a lot less hair, but I’m almost free.
Liberals say the timers are inhumane. I like it though: last thing at night and first thing in the morning I see how long I’ve got.
And if you fuck up, seeing it go up drives it home the way them saying they’ve added two years doesn’t. So, you stop fucking up.
Approximately 9 minutes remaining.
Almost close enough to count on my fingers.
Sentence 90%. Approximately 182 days 13 hours remaining.
What the…! Why are MacroFirm even running prisons anyway?
Death is not the end. There remains the litigation over the estate.
– Ambrose Bierce
Yes, the title is a double entrendre.