Second, the following are the two best images on the entire internet of the past week: Number One and Number Two.
I'm not sure what that combination says about me.
Third, still unemployed and psychologically fucked up about it. Send
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The writing here is thoroughly mediocre. The premise is perfectly good SF. A technological singularity, when humankind simply cannot assimilate the rate of change in their culture (especially when brought on my nano-technology style stuff) is a perfectly respectable premise. The slightly surreal, dadaish feel of the later chapters is a bit of a high. Mostly I just adore his juxtaposition of Leninist revolutionaries, trying to bring about a change that is absolutely small beans, really, and completely unable to wrap their heads around the thing that they are part of now. Cute little book.
Dancers at the Edge of Time (#1, An Alien Heat), Michael Moorcock
This is one of the all-time pioneers of the Dying Earth far-future genre, which I have adored in some of its later manifestations (Songs of Distant Earth, stuff in Hyperion, etc). Our naïve childlike narrator is okay, and the actual time travel hijinks are relatively entertaining, but it’s a short book that reads more like a thought experiment than a developed novel of substance, and far future humanity is too foreign to be sympathetic or understandable without far better development, without letting us into their society and heads far better than he does.