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text 2018-04-19 17:16
Reading progress update: I've read 41 out of 268 pages.
Space Opera - Catherynne M. Valente

"[...] I don´t even know why you would bring up the Internet. The xeno-intelligence officer responsible for evaluating your digital communication required invasive emergency therapy after an hour´s exposure. One glance at that thing is the strongest argument possible against the sentience of humanity. I wouldn´t draw attention to it, if I were you. [...]"

 

First off, I would say the xeno-intelligence officer doesn´t know which sites to visit on the internet. Clearly he isn´t familiar with Booklikes. Other than that, he might have a point.

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text 2018-04-18 22:47
Reading progress update: I've read 24 out of 268 pages.
Space Opera - Catherynne M. Valente

For his part, little Danesh inhaled a heady, unleavened diet of science fiction films, despite his grandmother´s insistence that they were neither halal nor anywhere near as good as Mr. Looney of the Tunes, as she called her favorite American programme. He had spent many afternoons, surrounded by siblings slaloming through the furniture, trying to convince his nani, the very one who would drop lemons in Piccadilly Square years later, that Alien was far, far better than Elmar Fudd and Bugs Bunny, far more serious and meaningful than a goofy, dumb cartoon, only to be hushed by a wave of her hand and a brief lecture on her personal philosophy of pop culture criticism.

"Jee haan, but they are the same! One hunts, one runs; one chews the carrot, one chews the Sir John Hurt. One makes Egg that go BANG! One makes Acme traps that go BANG! See? Sameful. Only Mr. Looney of the Tunes is more actual, on account of how aliens live in your big Danesh-head and bunny rabits live in Coventry. Also, mine is bright and happy and makes a colorful noise, so I put it on top of yours that is droopy and leaky ands makes a noise like a dishwasher [...]"

 

Hahaha. Nani is awesome!

 

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text 2018-04-18 21:29
Reading progress update: I've read 10%.
Space Opera - Catherynne M. Valente

"They landed, if it could be called a landing, in everyone’s lounge rooms at once at two in the afternoon on a Thursday in late April. One minute the entire planet was planet-ing along, making the best of things, frying eggs or watching Countdown or playing repetitive endorphin-slurping games or whatnot on various devices, and the next there was a seven-foot-tall ultramarine half-flamingo, half-anglerfish thing standing awkwardly on the good rug.

Crystal-crusted bones showed through its feathery chest, and a wet, gelatinous jade flower wobbled on its head like an old woman headed off to church. It stared at every person in the world, intimately and individually, out of big, dark, fringed eyes sparkling with points of pale light, eyes as full of unnameable yearning and vulnerability as any Disney princess’s.

Those not in possession of lounge rooms encountered the newcomer in whatever places were most familiar and intimate to them. Anyone at work had quite a surprise waiting in the break room. Some, absorbed in accounts payable or receivable, absentmindedly hung their suit jackets up on its towering hat rack of a head; its long greenish-ivory neck flushed pink with embarrassment. A slender, glassy proboscis arced up from the center of its avian skull until the weight of the round luminous lamp at its tip bent the whole thing down quail-style between those trusting eyes, where it flickered nervously, its fragile-looking legs poised like a ballet dancer about to give the Giselle of her life. But every Homo sapiens sapiens in the biosphere, at that moment, came face-to-face with the feathered beyond."

 

*gulps* Tomorrow is Thursday. And we're getting to the latter part of April.

 

Should I be reading this so close to bedtime?

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text 2018-04-18 21:19
Reading progress update: I've read 8%.
Space Opera - Catherynne M. Valente

"The story of the galaxy is the story of a single person in it. A cover version, overproduced, remastered, with the volume cranked up way past eleven and into the infinite."

That's rather nice.

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text 2018-04-18 21:09
Reading progress update: I've read 11 out of 268 pages.
Space Opera - Catherynne M. Valente

On Enrico Fermi´s small, watery planet, it could be generally agreed upon, for example, that a chicken was not people, but a physicist. Ditto for sheeps, pigs, mosquitoes, brine shrimp, squirrels, seagulls, and so on and so forth on the one hand, and plumbers, housewives, musicians, congressional aides, and lightning designers on the other. This was a fairly easy call (for the physicist, anyway), as brine shrimp were not overly talkative, squirrels failed to make significant headway in the fields of technology and mathematics, and seagulls were clearly unburdened by reason, feeling, or remorse. Dolphins, gorillas, and pharmaceutical sales representatives were considered borderline cases.

 

Lol. I have to think of this the next time I talk to a pharmaceutical sales representatives.

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