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Review. The Man of Maybe Half-a-Dozen Faces, by Ray Vukcevich. Oh. I just checked this on Amazon, and it’s out of print. This is a crime. I picked this up at the East Library in Colorado Springs, which has a permanent library sale room, and has become my tiny little used-book store of choice. The […]

LOTR II. Joe and I went to the Two Towers at the IMAX. Oooh.

War. Probably I should just keep my mouth shut, but there you go. I’d like to accomplish the supposed goals that the Iraqi war would attempt to accomplish. I think Saddam–if not just a frontman for larger interests–has been trying to undermine UN authority for decades; I think his efforts are escalating; I think it’s

Note to self: The SF Site best books of the year are here.

Review. Daredevil. Screw it. Don’t call it a review; it’s just a ramble I’m typing out while my sinusus prevent me from thinking straight. In order to get out of the house for a bit last night, I went to Daredevil. I haven’t read the comics, shame on me. I tell you right off it

Some links. This is bad. One of my purposes here has been to focus on original content, and here I am, putting up words and now…links. Well. Librarian Pick-up lines. “My mom was a librarian, she taught me everyone should have access to my stacks.” Via Bookslut. My kinda place. And more on the unrelated-to-sex

Heh. sciolist (SAI-uh-list) noun One who engages in pretentious display of superficial knowledge. [From Late Latin sciolus (smatterer), diminutive of Latin scius (knowing), from scire (to know). Another example of the similar kind of word formation is the name of the bird oriole which is derived from the diminutive form of Latin aureus (golden).] “Never

Ramblings. I’m reading some more Michel Foucault, The Order of Things. Some pretty neat stuff, much more intelligible (maybe the translation?) than the collection of essays I have. Still pretty tough going, and I’m still not sure I’m picking up everything, or even a greater part of what I’m reading. This is what I think

Blog. The science fiction writer Will Shetterly has a blog. One of his stories, a fun little thing called “The Princess Who Kicked Butt” is online. –He’s one of the famed Scribblies, a group of former Minneapolis writers (including Stephen Brust and Emma Bull) who have all apparently moved to the Southwest. They also have

Book reviews. Smoking Poppy, Graham Joyce. White Apples, Jonathan Carroll. Smoking Poppy. When a baby is born the fontanel at the top of the head yawns open. You fill the hole with shimmering, molten, free-running love, where it sets and hardens over the hole with something like bone. But for the first few weeks of