Holding Pattern
OK, I know I've been quiet; but I had a productive weekend! Doesn't that count for something?
E. Sedia's review of Rabid Transit: Long Voyages, Great Lies is up at Tangent. The relevant (but non-spoilery) bits: "Mr. Schwartz does an amazingly subtle job telling this story with almost no visual cues–-just sounds and scents and sensations. . . . It is a dark and beautiful story, and well worth a read."
In other news, this site is actually freaking me out a bit. It's one thing to know I'm insignificant; I'm not sure I needed this sort of proof.
More to come later in the week, I swear . . .
5 Comments:
Wow. I knew big stars were big, but... wow.
How about meditating instead on how cool it is that there can be stars that freakin’ huge?
I can't even hear you over the sound of my own existential despair!
Stars, nothing. You know if the Sun were the size of a basketball, you'd need plane tickets to Mexico City to get to the next-nearest star?
Also: one man's existential despair is another woman's sensawunda. So it all comes out even in the end...
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