… the walls exploded. One moment there was glass, and the next there were bits of glass drifting out like a jigsaw puzzle where every piece had suddenly decided it wanted some personal space.
(We’re posting this episode a week early, because next week we’ll be off-line, riding the preaching circuit.) In Ask Dr. Hal radio show excerpts, Dr. Philo Drummond, Rev. Stang and St. Palmer Vreedeez (LIES) compose all-new variations on “Bob’s” most beloved aphorisms. Of course, the conversation veers off into many unexpected corners too. It’s all interspersed with an avalanche of collages by LeMur, The Large and Rev. Royal DeCapitater. We get music from Fishbone, The Great Groovy Neptune, and the movie TRAIL OF THE SCREAMING FOREHEAD. The show ends with a bold proposal from Rev. just john.
On this day in 1802, the painter Methodia Rascal tried putting the thing under a heap of old sacks, in case it woke up the Chicken, and finished the last troll, using his smallest brush to paint the eyeballs.
Juliet was still reading as they waited for the horse bus. Such sudden devotion to a printed page worried Glenda. The last thing she wanted was to see her friend getting ideas into her head. There was such a lot of room in there for them to bounce around and do damage.
It was an icosahedron. Twenty faces, each of them an equilateral triangle. That much I’d seen when Sammann had first shown it to me. And therein lay the puzzle, because such a shape could be either natural or artificial. Geometers loved icosahedrons, but so did nature; viruses, spores, and pollens had all been known to take this shape. So perhaps it -was- a space-adapted life form, or a giant crystal that had grown in a gas cloud.
—
- Anathem, by Neal Stephenson, p 340
It’s from where the protagonist is examining an image of what’s been orbiting his planet. I post this as a shout-out to escapevessel.
He would sit all night under the lamp, book of the moment in front of him, dictionary and thesaurus on either side, wringing the meaning out of every word, punching ceaselessly at his own ignorance.
Why do we tell one another that the leopard cannot change his shorts? she mused as she watched him scurry away. Has anyone ever seen a leopard wearing shorts? And how would they be able to put them on if they had them? But we go on saying it as if it was some kind of holy truth, when it just means that we’re run out of an argument.
