From the Pocket Book of Boners, illustrations by Dr. Seuss (1943).Tags: Catblogging LOLcats Ben Franklin
From the Pocket Book of Boners, illustrations by Dr. Seuss (1943).
Science Fiction authors are often lauded for their prescience in predicting the future of technology and society. What is not often remembered though is that SF authors have about the same rate of success in predicting the future as the average psychic. That is, if one makes enough guesses eventually one will be spot on. The difference between a psychic and a science fiction author being of course that the writer usually doesn't receive $700 an hour for making stuff up."Any sufficiently large volume of water would become inimically motile. A person could drink from a pump or perambulate in summer showers or bathe and in that manner much of civilization proceeded as before, blissful and caring none. Rivers, lakes and oceans were no moreIn short order the protagonist of the tale became curious as to why only humans and not lower orders of land animals such as cows and aquatic life such as whales and fish were attacked. Risking death to procure a large tank of "hostile water" the scientist discovered that the sample was infested with uncounted "tiny clockworks, joined as chains and fetters". The scientist realized that minuscule machines were in control of all the molecules of water and were programmed to assault humanity. So it was that in what may have been his only credited published work Barris effectively predicted nanotechnology decades before it would begin to receive attention in scientific journals and fiction.a frontier of commerce and exploration. In a fortnight mighty warships that feared no country's navy or condition of inclement weather vanished into the deep as the favored coasts were riven by waves and scoured sterile. The farmer's pond was a thing to approach with caution or flee outright. To a man we fled before the wrath of God's broken promise and sought refuge in the hills and deserts and prayed for drought."
The story, forgotten for years was at least held in some regard by a few editors, namely Harold Oakes of Analog. On each occasion Hostile Waters was reprinted in science fiction magazines it was when Oakes was an editor. The story even received cover attention. Of the two reprintings the May 1958 cover of Astounding has the most egregious disconnect to the story. The aquatic warriors are not featured in the story in any form. Covers wildly disparate from the featured story is another element that successfully made the transition in the evolution of pulps to comic books.
doomed lovers on a lake remain intact and enough of the scene is similar to the original Hostile Waters story to lend me to extrapolate that some unknown staff member at Charlton had a subscription to Analog in 1970.
The weird, not-at-all-out-of-context image of Bunny in a watermelon costume being fondled by a creepy old man is from the Harvey Comics all-ages title, Bunny #3 (November 1967).
While I agree with Dr. Zaius that the message of Andrew Meyer is being eclipsed by the elation of those who think an old woman slipping on a banana peel is funny, the tasee is fortunate in one regard. Thanks to technology, a few years ago Meyer's skull bones might have been on the receiving end of several batons instead of a hand-held pest zapper.
If Superman Returns was full of scenes like this it would have been a much better movie.
Crunch C-Rack, indeed.
Set piece from the film Beastmaster 3 in the exterior dining area of the Studio Diner, adjacent to the Stu Segal studio in San Diego. Ate a birthday breakfast there the other day. The balcony has an awesome view overlooking a canyon and the back of a warehouse with a large number of barrels marked as containing flammable materials.
I might not be posting for a few days as we patronize the fine museums, cultural sites, pristine beaches and excellent dining establishments San Diego has to offer.
I used to bike 10-plus miles a day, visit museums and surf on the ocean. I spent weekends jumping from that cliff-in-La Jolla-that-shall-not be-named, doing things and meeting people.
poop as between-meal snacks so I failed to appreciate their slobbering efforts all over my face. My main concern other than poop-saliva on my face was that at that moment I was basically a wounded animal in the midst of a pack of dogs. I guess I should have been grateful they didn't tear me to shreds and feast on my remains in a frenzy of applied Darwinism.
you get up out of a chair and replying in the affirmative when a cashier offers to have someone take my groceries out to the car. That sucks.