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| Mayhem 2013 | |||||||||
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I read Artifact by Shane Lindemoen, to be published by Boxfire
Press at www.boxfirepress.com. Half a century ago, when I was just
making my first story sales, one of the notions I had was of an
artifact, an ancient machine that could be activated with odd
results. I wasn't sure what to do with it, so I showed it to my
collaborator H James Hotaling and he was intrigued and started
working on it. But in the end it came to nothing, as ideas often do.
Well, now Shane has done it, and I am free to speculate that the
spirit of the notion searched until it found a worthy writer, and
infused him. This novel has a 300 million year old artifact being
found buried on the planet Mars, and of course scientists are eager
to know more about it. It seems to be a kind of computer, and it may
be in working condition. They study it in an electronic laboratory,
and it begins to react. A certain key pulsing of light--and hell
breaks loose. The protagonist, Lance Kattar, is thrown into a series
of time jumps, finding himself suddenly a few days ahead and injured,
then at another time and not injured. He has no memory of himself
before the accident. Another jump and he gets taken away in a car for
his safety, but then his guards become killers and the car lands in
the sea. Then it gets worse, as zombies invade, eating brains,
wanting to eat his brain so they can learn what is in it. Then
strange vicious monsters. Then the sky cracks open and crashes down
to earth, leaving blankness behind. His assistant, Alice, is
similarly confused, and at one point decides to shoot Lance as an
impostor. Everything seems to relate to the moment they invoked the
artifact. Reality itself seems changed. Gradually Lance gets a handle
on things, but his conclusions are disquieting and his own reality is
in question. This is one strange, gripping science fiction thriller.
I read Caution: Witch in Progress, by Lynn North. Ghostly
Publishing www.ghostlypublishing.co.uk, the author reachable on
Facebook at www.facebook.com/GhostlyPublishing. This is a children's
fantasy featuring a girl, Gertie, born into a witch family, who
doesn't show signs of being witchy. That's awkward. When she tries at
least to get a decent wart by rubbing a warty toad and saying a
spell, poof! the toad loses all its warts. Finally they send her off
to witch's school and surprise, she loves it. Most of the novel is
about the classes she takes and what she is learning, such as how to
Grimace, shoot fire from her fingers, levitate objects, and other
routine spells that bore some of the class. Her best friend there
loves to eat beyond all else, and Gertie's studying ways tend to
alienate her from classmates. One show-off summons a demon he then
doesn't know how to banish, which is trouble because only the
summoner can properly banish it, and the demon has an ugly attitude.
Some demons are like that. But in the end Gertie comes through with
one of those surprises that makes perfect sense in retrospect. So
while I fear this novel will be dull in places for those who don't
like school and aren't serious about learning witchcraft, it's
interesting and fun, and its age-level should like it.
I proofread Esrever Doom, by Piers Anthony (hey, that's me!),
Xanth #37, due to be published this OctOgre. I'll have more to say
closer to the time of publication, but can say now that it's up to
the Xanth standard, being interesting, amusing, and active
throughout. It involves a reversal, hence the reversed title, Mood
Reverse, wherein folk see pretty people as ugly, and vice versa;
pretty women are not pleased. Only a Mundane protagonist, visiting
Xanth in a dream, is immune, working to get it fixed. Naturally
there's a nefarious plot to stop him by fair means or foul, and a
romance.
When I completed a draft of Xanth #39 Five Portraits I took a
brief break to unwind by watching a DVD movie. We were in Kmart for
clothing, and I saw a bunch of DVDs on sale for $2.99 each, and some
had three, four, or five movies per disc. That's my kind of price,
like around a dollar or less per movie. Sure they're probably junky,
but I can enjoy junk on occasion. So the one I watched, out of four
romantic comedies on that disc, was My Boss's Daughter. It was
hilarious, as this poor young male employee has to house-sit his
ferociously stern boss's house and everything goes wrong. At one
point a shapely young woman wants him to check her breast because she
fears she has a tumor in it; he can't tell what's what, so another
woman has him put his other hand on her breast at the same time to
compare, at which point the boss's lovely daughter, whom he wishes he
could date, appears and naturally draws the wrong conclusion. Shallow
naughty fun, worth the price.
Last Column I queried my readers on whether to have a major gay
character in Xanth. A decade ago the vote was strongly against it;
this time the balance has shifted, but not enough give me confidence
that it's okay. There were some thoughtful pros and some savage cons;
I do get the impression that the pros are more intellectual and the
cons more gut. The vote was about two to one in favor: specifically,
10-5. I'm concerned that this may be typical of Column readers, whom
I presume to be more dedicated fans of my work, but not necessarily
of my larger readership that doesn't bother with the HiPiers site but
does know what it likes when it sees it available. But assuming it is
similar, my choice as a commercial writer is whether to lose one
third of my readership, or two thirds. Obviously I prefer the smaller
figure. However, in Five Portraits I do have a gay character,
an eight year old child who nevertheless knows he's gay. He is fated
to save Xanth in the future, depending on his acceptance by run of
the mill characters. If the balance does not continue to swing toward
acceptance, he will not appear as a future major character. With luck
he'll get his chance. It would be a shame to let Xanth be lost
because of prejudice.
The HiPiers site suffered a virus infection. We cleaned it out but it
returned. We cleaned it out again, but Google kept sending out
notices that we had malware, dissuading a number of viewers. Since we
don't go out visiting other sites I'm not sure how it found us, and I
wonder why it had to reach our site before the malware warners got
into the act. Don't they stop a virus near its source? It reminds me
of the time jokers lifted a mini car onto a sidewalk, and then the
police came and ticketed it for bad parking. How about going after
the bad guys instead of the victims?
Dick Geis died. I doubt that many readers of this column have even
heard of him, so I'll tell you about him. He was was erotic
fiction—okay, porn--writer with something like a hundred novels
published, who did fanzines, that is, printed amateur magazines
before the electronic era, where fans and pros could interact. One
was called PSYCHO, and a later one was SF REVIEW, to which I
contributed a feisty column. In those days of yore there were two
kinds of fans: convention goers, and fanzine contributors. The two
could overlap, but they were pretty much separate realms. There could
be fanzine quarrels. As a serious reader and writer I did not suffer
fools gladly, so I had a number of blowouts. Like the time I talked
back to an ignorant review, and the reviewer then became an editor
and blacklisted me, then later wanted my help. It was sort of like
the dinosaur age, where you had to watch your step lest you get
eaten. Today the Internet interactions can be similar, and popular
blogs may be like fanzines. So Geis was at the center of things in
the science fiction universe, and I think loved it. But he
overstepped himself at one point with me, deliberately publishing my
home address when he knew that was a no-no, and I cut him off. Later
he wanted my participation in another fanzine. Tough shit; he died
without ever getting anything more from me. He's not the only one who
learned the hard way, like the reviewer. But for some time he had
about the best fanzine extant, and his death marks another notch in
the passing of an era.
Income Tax season came, with my wife struggling with complicated
accounts; the tax forms and related work sheets totaled something
like 30 pages. Tax simplification is chronically promised but never
delivered. We got hit as usual by the AMT, that is Alternative
Minimum Tax, which reminded me yet again: how come huge corporations
like GE don't pay it while we lesser folk do?
I had my geek come to upgrade LibreOffice form 3.6 to 4.0, hoping to
eliminate its sometimes erratic behavior, such as scrambling my files
or refusing to load at all. It did no good; apparently it's not
LibreOffice doing it, but the operating system. I like LibreOffice
very well, but at times it can be like a girlfriend who deals out
silent treatments for no discernible reason and refuses to clarify.
That does become wearing.
I saw a reference to a barista, in the “Shoe” comic.
Curious, I looked up the word—and it wasn't in any of my
dictionaries, even the Oxford English Dictionary. It seems it has
come into general use in the last fifteen years, meaning a kind of
lawyer. Then in Candorvelle the lisping boy asked “Daddy, whath
tewowithm?” He couldn't understand the word, until he realized
“...d'ow!” Well it may have been evident to him, but I
still don't get it. Well, as I edit this Column, I have a guess:
Terrorism?
In my Marsh 2013 Column I mentioned the relation between lead and bad
behavior. Henning Leidecker sent a nice discussion about the secret
history of lead. Lead in gasoline gave it extra kick so you could
drive farther cheaper, but that polluted the air. When this became
apparent, naturally the lead vendors wanted to keep making money, so
they hired advertising agents to spread the message “This is
good for you and the economy.” Once they figured out how to lie
effectively, others went on to use the same methods to advertise
cigarettes. And political parties. There was a wiki article that
demonstrated strikingly elevated levels of lead in the drinking water
of Washington DC, and so informed the EPA, who then cut off the
author's grant funding. He wrote articles in the WASHINGTON POST,
which then stopped publishing them. You think the news media can't be
bought? Then he got a half million dollar MacArthur Fellowship and
was able to continue his work. But his findings somehow got waylaid,
while ordinary citizens suffered brain damage. But this may help
explain why stupidity seems to dominate congress: they drink the
poisoned water. A later item says that more than half a million
children are thought to have lead poisoning, more than twice as many
as thought, because they lowered the threshold. I suspect that
eventually there will be a similar expose about fluoridation, which
few dare to question now without being called nuts. Big money calls
the shots in America.
One scary continuing story is the incidence of pedophilia. That is,
adults going after children for sex. One FBI study indicated that a
half million pedophiles are online every day. Police stings keep
catching them, and they are not just criminals with records;
professional people, teachers, priests look for sex with ten year old
girls. What I wonder is whether this is a part of the broad sexual
spectrum, including gays, necrophiles, sado/maso, coprophilia, and
so on. That is, is it normal to have deviant sexual tastes? We
condemn everything except straight heterosexual interaction, and even
there there can be limits. Ask a religious person what he thinks of
bondage, spanking, or of hetero anal sex as a contraceptive measure.
The deviances are so persistent that I suspect that they are in fact
normal in the eyes of God. I speak as one who is not comfortable with
many of them. If so, they will never be eliminated by laws or moral
strictures, only masked. Gays are coming to be accepted, and that's
good, but that may be only a part of what's out there. Do we really
comprehend our own nature?
I get behind on my magazines, so only recently got to the
February/March 2012 (that's a year ago) issue of FREE INQUIRY. It's a
good magazine, espousing secular humanist principles. One article
therein is titled “Snip the Snip.” This refers to the
common practice of circumcising boys at birth, a religious rite
applied to a huge number who are not of that faith. The human male
foreskin was surly put there by nature for a reason, and arbitrarily
cutting it off seems nonsensical to me. I was never cut, and when my
wife was pregnant I told the doctor that if the child were male,
leave him alone. The doctor said he needed to talk to me, presumably
to reform the error of my way. The process is so entrenched that
those supporting it may think that those who object are deluded.
Well, this article puts that into perspective. Suppose the doctor
recommends that you have your son's pinkie finger removed at birth.
Why? Well, for religious reason, or from tradition, or hygiene, so
that the boy won't collect unsanitary dirt under his fingernail. It
will prevent any cancer in that absent finger. Maybe women's breasts
should be similarly cut off before they develop, to avoid breast
cancer. Hell, you could avoid brain cancer by cutting off your head
in childhood. Does that make sense to you? If not, does circumcision
make sense to you? Its logic is similar. So what about the statistics
that show that in Africa circumcised men are less likely to get AIDS?
Well, if you can clean your pinkie finger under the nail, you can
clean your penis under the foreskin, and you can avoid having sex
with those infected with AIDS. This seems better to me than cutting
off sensitive skin. But if there is a case to be made for the cut, at
least let the boy grow to adulthood so he can decide for himself,
rather than imposing it on him involuntarily. That seems the fairest
way, and I suspect that those who disagree really aren't interested
in fairness, but in enforcing their dubious preferences on others.
Monica Parish sent another humorous collection, this time of pictures
of public signs. Such as WE'LL ALWAYS BE BEST FRIENDS BECAUSE YOU
KNOW TOO MUCH. Or DAMN RIGHT I'M GOOD IN BED. I CAN STAY THERE ALL
DAY. Or SWIMMING NOTICE: MINNESOTA STATE LAW STRICTLY PROHIBITS
UNDERWATER SMOKING. Or PLEASE BE PATIENT. EVEN A TOILET CAN HANDLE
ONLY ONE ASS HOLE AT A TIME. Or WARNING: DRINKING ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES
BEFORE PREGNANCY CAN CAUSE PREGNANCY. Or: THIS IS A PRIVATE SIGN.
PLEASE DO NOT READ.
On average, 85 Americans are fatally shot each day, 53 of them being
suicides. Which is one thing that keeps me on the fence about gun
control: I believe that a person should have the right to end his
life when and as he chooses. The busybodies will interfere if they
can, but a gun is final. But about guns and safety: the technology
exists to use radio frequencies to prevent a gun from being fired by
anyone but its owner. Would you believe, the NRA opposes this? And
this: for every deceased person who is buried, four are now cremated.
That's certainly for me; when I go I don't want to be buried. In fact
I don't want a funeral. I don't want the vultures of the funeral
industry picking at my substance. I hope to be simply remembered by
those who enjoyed my novels, or who appreciated the assistance I have
tried to provide for other writers. That is, my good works rather
than my corpse.
Newspaper item exposing fallacies of public belief. Well, they aren't
all fallacies. 28% believe that a secretive power elite is conspiring
to eventually rule the world. Well, duh! There are conspiracies all
over, especially in nut houses. They simply haven't gotten far. 29%
believe that aliens exist. They surely do, considering the number of
habitable planets in the universe. They just haven't made it to
Earth, yet. 15% think the medical industry and the pharmaceutical
industry invent new diseases to make money. What about the ads
recommending that you take an expensive medicine daily so as to be
ready the moment the moment is right, to counter possible impotence?
11% believe the US government allowed 9/11 to happen. Well, when
President Bush was told it was coming, he dismissed the informant as
trying to cover his ass. Had he acted, it might have been prevented.
Then when it did come, he used it as a pretext to invade Iraq. The
myth debunkers don't know this history?
The Boston Marathon was bombed. An incidental aspect is the type of
bomb: a pressure cooker filled with explosives and nails, set off by
cell phone. I remember the pressure cooker from my childhood, a
marvelous device for cooking, because it could reduce hours to
minutes by doing it under controlled pressure. I never thought of it
as a potential bomb, but I guess it makes sense, being available,
cheap, and deadly. We worry about terrorists going nuclear, but they
can do it way lower tech than that. My collaborator Roberto Fuentes,
who had been an anti-Castro terrorist in Cuba, wanted to warn the
world about the coming wave of terrorism, but publishers weren't
interested. Ever thus.
I don't read much satire, but happened to pick up on one by Andy
Borowitz in the newspaper on April 21. Senators heard that 90% of
American people wanted them to vote a certain way. They congratulated
themselves on not caving in to that special interest group. After
all, if they caved, people would think they were nothing more than
elected representatives. Just because people voted them into office
and pay their salaries, benefits, and pensions doesn't mean they are
somehow obliged to listen to the people. Okay, this is satire, but I
think just barely. Florida is notorious for ignoring the will of its
voters.
Question in the newspaper about why a group of crows is called a
“murder.” The answer is that it is properly called a
flock; murder is a spurious alternate, as are an ostentation of
peacocks, a smack of jellyfish, a parliament of owls, and a skulk of
foxes.
Article by Jennifer Senior reprinted in THE WEEK about high school.
It seems that these four adolescent years to a considerable extent
define us for life. For example, a boy's height at age 16 correlates
with his earning potential in life. Now that's interesting, because I
was slow to grow; my height at 16 I think was around 5' 4” on
the way to 5' 10½” by age 20. But I foiled the system by
in effect winning a lottery when I became a bestselling writer. It
seems the songs we listened to in high school define our taste for
the rest of our lives. I ignored the popular songs of the time, yet
these are the ones I prefer today, so obviously I was imprinted in
that respect. It seems that we are forming our identities then,
around puberty. Aha! I didn't hit puberty until 18, in college; that
may explain why college was where my adult life formed. I became a
vegetarian, oriented on writing, and met the girl I married. Over
half a century later, in fact pushing 60 years, these still largely
define my life. High school was just a period I endured and was
satisfied to leave behind, just as I left two years of the US Army
behind, and three years of office work in civilian industry. Only
when I became a successful writer did my real life coalesce, thanks
in significant part to the support of my wife. So maybe I was
typical, only slow. The article says that most American high schools
are almost sadistically unhealthy places to send adolescents, because
that's when they need adult guidance most, rather than the shallow
values of their peers. So they focus on looks, nice clothes, prowess
in sports, rather than the subtleties of personality. So the
strategies they use to cope with false values nevertheless define
them for life. Ouch!
We are served by a small electric company, thanks to the coincidence
of living in a particular section of the backwoods, SECO. Their April
2013 newsletter says they are doing very well, and indeed, we have no
complaints. Their CEO Jim Duncan tackles what he says are five
significant myths regarding the future of energy in the united
States. Uh-oh, another myth debunker. Here's where we seriously part
company. The myths are that we are facing an energy crisis, must make
radical changes to save the environment, alter our behavior as an
example for the world, that renewable sources of power can replace
traditional sources, and that the environmental movement movement has
the answers to our energy future. Well, I'm a subscriber to those
supposed myths, and I could fill up a lot of space refuting his
points. But let's mention just one: about the supposed inability of
renewables to replace current sources. He says wind and solar make up
only 4% of our current energy mix, so couldn't make much of a dent in
our needs. Here's the fallacy: assuming that what we have today
represents the potential for the future. If we made a real effort to
develop these, including formidable storage to alleviate erratic
production (the sun doesn't shine at night, wind comes and goes) they
could indeed become significant. It just won't happen as long as
attitudes like his are in charge. The old order seldom yields
voluntarily to the new.
Article by Douglas Heaven in NEW SCIENTIST titled “Lost in the
Clouds” says that in the digital age your possessions and
memories are not truly yours any more; they belong to the cloud.
There's a lawsuit by a man whose business was wiped out when all his
stored films were deleted without warning. The claim is that he
forfeited his rights to his property the moment he uploaded it,
ironically, for safekeeping. You think you're safe? 54% of people
claim to never use the cloud, yet 95% of them actually do; they just
don't know it. It is widely thought that by 2020 the cloud will run
all digital life; already one third of US internet users visit a site
every day that relies on an Amazon server, or part of the cloud.
Makes me glad that I operate for the most part outside the cloud. I
don't want the cloud claiming it owns my novels simply because I use
email to forward them to my agent.
Advice column by Carolyn Hax in response to a mother worried about
her son's lying. She says that kids lie, people lie, everybody lies.
It's pretty much a social requirement, and children pick up on it
early; it's a survival skill. She says “Your son is trying
forbidden things not because he's a bad kid...but because he's a kid,
period.” He wants to make his own rules instead of always
accepting someone else's rules. I never thought of it that way. I
remember being disgusted as a child when I discovered that adults
think it is okay to lie to a child “This won't hurt...”
Now I realize that they lie to everyone. And really, how do you
honestly answer your girlfriend's query “Does this dress make
me look fat?” when an honest answer will alienate her? Actually
I do have an honest answer: “No.” The problem is, that
answer is incomplete. A full answer would be “No, it's not the
dress that makes you look fat. You'd look fat in anything.”
Complete it at your own risk.
Now I'm going to edit Five Pictures, then mindlessly gorge on
about 30 DVD movies I have accumulated while writing, before starting
my next non-Xanth novel, Were Woman; I don't let much
interfere with my writing. If that sounds like a threat, of course it
is: I'll comment on them here next month. Things like Modesty
Blaise, Treasure of the Sierra Madre, Madame Bovary,
and ones on order (the price came down) like The Hobbit, Les
Miserables, Life of Pi, Lincoln, Django Unchained, plus the
others I picked up dirt cheap at Kmart, and several DISCOVER natural
history videos. I have reasonably eclectic tastes, liking both
quality and junk. But you already knew that.
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