Why can't Muslims Take Criticism? (Page 191)

ghostgeek: Every car that roars past, I want to hurl a rock at it.

Zanjan: Please contain yourself. Take delight in more creative ideas. Mine is to sit shotgun at the entrance of my property with a big water cannon. Bonus, keeps the dust down. (it's a gravel road and I have asthma)

Our region has started phase one of return to normalacy. Went to town the other day and was so disappointed to see cars parked in front of the businesses again. Oh well.

ghostgeek: Talking of being creative, I'm now at stage two of writing my book. Getting rid of about twenty thousand words.

ghostgeek: Sadly I started writing the thing before the pandemic took hold of the collective imagination, so it's not about a sexy virus.

ghostgeek: Talking of water cannons, I was reading recently that a water company was asking customers to stop using their power washers and sprinklers. Seems that now everyone is at home they're starting to use too much water.

Zanjan: Interesting. I wonder how the water company knows what's being done with the water. Kinda creepy.

We've horribly derailed this topic - fortunately, you started it.

ghostgeek: Not hard to figure out where the water's going. People are always bashing away at their cars and drives with powerjets. Seems nobody does anything the hard way any more. Even pumping up car tyres gets done with an electric pump.

ghostgeek: As for bothering about the topic of a thread, a natural conversation goes where it will.

Zanjan: "Even pumping up car tyres gets done with an electric pump. "

Good luck doing it with yer lips.

Zanjan: Mind if I ask what your book is about?

ghostgeek: It is, in the modern vernacular, Contemporary Fantasy. Fiction, pure and simple. A world, or rather a collection of worlds, on the brink of extinction that need a saviour. Then along stumbles Anderson, a man who likes his cider, looking for a subject for his thesis and things start going downhill. I've already been told, in no uncertain terms, that one individual I know will NOT be buying it, though he had to admit that part of it was well-written. When it's finished it will probably be put aside and quietly forgotten.

ghostgeek: As for pumping up car tyres, the old method was to use a foot pump. Always good for shapely legs.

Zanjan: I tried that once with a bicycle pump - miserable results. I now use an air compressor. I also once tried to fix a flat tire by squirting in that goo in bottles - word, don't do that. Not ever.

As long as you have a catchy title, your book should be a good seller at the Alien Con.

ghostgeek: I pump up my tyres once a year, whether they need pumping up or not, so a little exercise with the foot pump isn't too bothersome.

ghostgeek: Never one to be a ray of sunshine, I've called my book Lugubris.

Zanjan: Shoppers will likely think that's somebody's name. I think you'll have to fall back on a great background illustration for the cover. Hint: skulls and gravesites have been way overused.

ghostgeek: Sadly, there are no dragons in the story and no orcs either. From what I can gather, readers of fantasy novels go wild over pretty, talking dragons and love to hate orcs. Not my cup of tea but there it is, buggered as usual.

Zanjan: So, I'm guessing a basket of Honey Badger kits is out?

Zanjan: Ancient religions were very nature-oriented and people fancied themselves as bearing the spirit of some animal. I find it interesting that's still with us today in all cultures.

So, if you're in a roomful of adults and ask them what animal they identify with, there's never any hesitation to answer. I've seen this experiment several times; the range of popular answers depends on the target group. Quite revealing.

For example, Geeks tend to choose burrowing animals, like rabbits, foxes, and meercats. Artists choose the elegantly swift, like eagles, gazelles and dolphins, while Guardians choose tigers, lions and bears.

So, I have to agree with you that dragons and orcs are really wimpy fantasies because it's a childish diversion- that is, it's about their toys, not the central figures. Take away a man's gun or muscle truck and he's nothing.

Now, the Honey Badger speaks volumes: it's totally fearless, inviting death; it self-corrects and self-resurrects.

If Anderson wants to save the world(s), he must learn courage isn't found in a bottle but in his natural inner avatar.

ghostgeek: Interesting. Anderson's a piss artist who pretends not to give a shit about anything, but deep down he's consumed by resentment. However much he tries to shirk intervening, circumstances are always prodding him into action. Be assured, saving Lugubris is the last thing on his mind but that's what he ends up doing.

ghostgeek: As for what sort of animal you might picture him as, I'd say he was a goat. Independent minded and liable to lash out if vexed.

Zanjan: You should have said "spoiler alert".

ghostgeek: That's the story of the world. One minute it's chugging along in oblivious good cheer and then reality hits it like a brickbat.

ghostgeek: It seems we can expect more pandemics because we're intruding on natural habitats. I guess only a permanent lockdown can save us, but seeing as it would probably kill us anyway, why bother? Multiply and be cut down.

Zanjan: Gee, I remember when everyone was worried about world over-population, that the planet couldn't possibly feed all those people. Someone must have prayed for a solution.