Playing the "Playing the Race Card" Card

I get so sick of disingenuous right wingers playing the "playing the race card" card.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says: "Speak the truth. It won't really shame the Devil, but you shouldn't be concerning yourself with what other people think anyway."\\

Books By The Inch

We are liquidating a huge collection of science fiction paperbacks from the 1960s-2000s.

We'll be listing them for sale as we are able to sort and pack them. Each list will contain about a hundred parcels. Each parcel will be about two inches thick* and will contain between between two and five volumes, all by the same author.

These books are not collectibles. We do not make any guarantees about condition, except that they have all of their pages and are readable. At least once.

Each parcel will come to you by mail, postage paid, for $6.00 U.S. (through PayPal).

If you live in Oregon's mid-Valley area, we may be able to arrange delivery at a lower price.


-- The Inchworms, aka John and Kathe




*So okay, it would be more accurate if we called it "Books by the Two Inches", or to be more SFnal, "Books By the 5cm Block", but do either of those sound as smooth as "Books By The Inch"?

List #1
Gael Baudino
Gael Baudino
Gael Baudino
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
David Brin
David Brin
John Brunner
John Brunner
John Brunner
John Brunner
John Brunner
John Brunner
Algis Budrys
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Orson Scott Card
Jack L. Chalker
A. Bertram Chandler
Jo Clayton
Hal Clement
L. Sprague deCamp
Gordon R. Dickson [Includes Lost Dorsai – profusely illustrated]
Gordon R. Dickson
Gordon R. Dickson
Gordon R. Dickson
Gordon R. Dickson
Gordon R. Dickson
David Drake
David Drake
Robert A. Heinlein [including a couple of Signet paperbacks]
Robert A. Heinlein
Robert A. Heinlein
Frank Herbert
Frank Herbert
Frank Herbert
Frank Herbert
James P. Hogan
James P. Hogan
Tanith Lee
Ursula K. LeGuin
Ursula K. LeGuin
Ursula K. LeGuin
Michael Moorcock
Michael Moorcock
Michael Moorcock
Michael Moorcock
C. L. Moore
Dan Morgan
Larry Niven
Larry Niven & Jerry Pournelle
Andre Norton
Andre Norton
Andre Norton
Andre Norton
Andre Norton
Andre Norton
Frederik Pohl
Frederik Pohl
Frederik Pohl
Frederik Pohl & Jack Williamson
Jerry Pournelle
Pamela Sargent
Sheri S. Tepper
Sheri S. Tepper
E.C. Tubb
E.C. Tubb
Jack Vance
Jack Vance
James White
James White
James White
James White

We also have about a cubit of David Weber books, but since they average well over an inch apiece, it’s not really possible to tie them into two-inch bundles. Write and ask, and we will make a special arrangement if you want a few inches of Weber.

An American Victory, Yes....

My third novel, "An American Victory",* currently in progress, involves war across alternate timelines, between three different Americas, none of which had our Civil War:
One had a successful Southern secession after the failure of the Compromise of 1850 and became the imperialist Republic of Washington.
One had a Compromise of 1862 overseen by President Douglas and a secession in 1869 which was defeated in less than a year and resulted in a thirty-year Reconstruction, with the rebel states dissolved and readmitted as only four states.
One had a group of slave states refuse to accept the Constitution, and form the Foederal Republic of America, which became majority-black and black-dominated.
1926 is an interesting year for all three worlds.
My friend Gene Greigh has written an interesting book, "West of '89", which features a world where the Confederacy was allowed to secede without war, but a slave revolt and a later reign of terror produced a very unpleasant majority-black country.  The Confederate government in exile survives as a charitable organization offering help to refugees who flee its oppressive government.

*After Charles Fort's snarky observation that it was a safe bet that the American Civil War would end in an American victory.

//The Magic Eight-Ball  says, "A great empire will be destroyed."\\

Don't Like Feeling Like This

My new doctor has been modulating my supplements and my diet, and various reactions have been noticeable, but the most conspicuous ones are not enjoyable ones.  In particular, on two well-separated occasions I have spent an entire day in a sort of waking faint, feeling as though I might keel over at any moment.
I will stick with this program for awhile yet, to see if these "bad" days stop, and whether it helps with my migraines.  I will withhold judgment.
Sure am glad I have this here sweetie to look after me....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Hang in there awhile longer."\\

I Visited the Poetry Dispenser on 5th Street Yesterday

The poem for March was from Rainer Maria Rilke:

Live the Questions

I want to beg you, 

as much as I can, 

to be patient toward 

all that is unsolved 

in your heart 

and to try to love 

the questions themselves—

like locked rooms 

and like books 

that are written 

in a very foreign tongue. 

Do not now seek the answers, 

which cannot be given to you 

because you would not 

be able to live them. 

The point is, 

to live everything. 

Live the questions now. 

Perhaps you will then 

gradually, without noticing it, 

live along some distant day 

into the future.

In other news, chronic pain continues to impair my quality of life.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Keep doing your stretches."\\

Go To The End of Jefferson Avenue, Then Stop

My physical therapist has prescribed 45 minutes of walking, daily.  I'd like to walk a different route every night, but I'm understandably starting to run out of them.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says,"Actually, you should go to the end of Jefferson Avenue and then turn around and go back."\\

Welcome to the John Burt Society

This query was sent to me at goodreads.com by Darlene Hartman: Are you the same John Burt who used to design science fiction vehicles and had a virtual "used car lot" of wonderful ships and runabouts, even down to the detailed designs thereof? I'm doing the sixth novel in my "Einai Series" (often called "The Skipjack Series") and am desirous of getting permission to have my protagonist buy a used space vehicle from the aforementioned John Burt. Thanks for your answer.


My reply: Alas, I am not that John Burt. I run into John Burts, or other people seeking John Burts contact me (sometimes police -- eek!), that I used to send out membership cards in the John Burt Society (motto: "My name is John Burt").
The worst John Burt of all was a pastor in Florida who had goaded one of his followers to murder a doctor for performing abortions -- and the scumbag even looked like me!

Anyway, I do hope you find your John Burt. My guess is he will be delighted.

https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog_posts/14025477-welcome-to-the-john-burt-society

//The Magic Eight-Ball says: "The name is not the thing described."\\

I Have Her

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uP5oylZW2uI
Depression is a cruel and painful disease. It has robbed us of many great talents besides Phil Ochs. As for whether "her" is literal or metaphorical, it doesn't really matter. People (not always heterosexual men) often personify some passion as a woman, a "demanding mistress". But also, plenty of people suffering from depression have destroyed relationships when they proved not to "cure" them, and blamed the lover. I am so fortunate that I have someone in my life who loved me enough to reach out after I had mistreated her so viciously, and ask me to try again. She hasn't made me whole, but no-one can -- if that's possible, I will have to do it myself. But she did show me that someone was capable of loving me that much. I was a glutton for love. It was not enough for me to have the love of a good woman -- I demanded the love of another, and then another, never satisfied. At my worst, I tried to have the love of three, any of whom would have been a good match for me, but trying to have everything more than just both ways made all of them miserable, hurt them terribly. I demanded that they prove themselves to me over and over, and was never satisfied. I am immensely fortunate that the true love of my life forgave me all of that, and invited me to walk away from self-indulgence onto a demanding path which led to the happiness I now enjoy. Depression is still an issue, but it's better now that I have found better footing. Ours is one of the great loves of history, even though no-one will know about it. Future generations will not speak of "John Burt and his Brightly Shining" as a metaphor for love, but that doesn't matter. The greatest soldiers didn't get medals, the scientists who contributed most never received a Nobel Prize. No-one knows who wrote "Away in a Manger" or "Darlin' Corey". No-one will know, but it happened, and it is happening now.
I have her. She isn't "nothing".

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "She's really something."\\

Modern Stone-Age Names

One of these days, I'm going to write a story set in a world which has (relatively) advanced technology without having metalworking.

One element of this story is going to be that characters will have "Indian names" (i.e., names which are nouns, verbs and/or adjectives), but names which could pass as "normal" names: Rose Winter, Joy Gold, Amber White, &c.

I have plenty of family names: Smith, Short, Black, Hammer, Harewood, Silver, Miller, Bear, Young, Pine, Potter, Hill, Broadacre, Door, Bale, Pond, Roundtree, Burden, Ransom, Snow, Fish, Hightower, Grass, Linden, &c.

I have plenty of female names: Tulip, Felicity, Holly, Ruby, Hope, Rose, Columbine, Melody&c.

But I'm having trouble with male names: Flint, Walker, Mark, Blue, Spade, Hunter, Stoney, Gray, Rice, Weaver, Oak, Robin, Cooper, Goodman, Cutter....  That's about all I could come up with.

Anybody have any suggestions, especially of male names?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Ball, Black, Pool, Fortune . . . ?"\\

Feminist Graphic Novels

I'm writing to say that Kathe and I have both finished Bitch Planet Volume 1, and will be returning it tomorrow.

In the meantime, I must tell you that neither Kathe nor I liked it very much.  We agreed that it covered ground better tilled by novels like The Handmaid's Tale* and Native Tongues**.

Kathe asked me to come up with a list of better feminist graphic novels, especially ones which depicted a horrific patriarchal dystopia.  I couldn't find that exact thing (unless you would count the Sid Jacobson/Ernie Colon adaptation of the diary of Anne Frank: http://www.amightygirl.com/anne-frank-graphic-novel 

or Marzi: 

http://druidcitycomic.com/graphic-novel-review-marzi-a-memoir/

or Lili Renee:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/10866058-lily-renee-escape-artist

or maybe Rosa Parks:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1161932.Rosa_Parks_And_The_Montgomery_Bus_Boycott

and there's a case to be made for The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/888169.Triangle_Shirtwaist_Factory_Fire), but here are some graphic novels that have come recommended by various people.  Some I have read, some I have not, some which the GNBC has read:

http://www.womenyoushouldknow.net/nine-graphic-novels-every-girl-should-read/

http://wrappedupinbooks.org/2014/06/13/feminist-fridays-graphic-novels-reading-lists/

http://bust.com/graphic-novels-by-women-that-you-should-read-now.html

http://www.flashlightworthybooks.com/Best-Graphic-Novels-About-Women/588

http://www.amightygirl.com/mighty-girl-picks/graphic-novels

Ody-C tries a different approach to undermining patriarchy, reversing the genders in one of the most influential patriarchalist documents, The Odyssey (which some have claimed was written by a woman): 

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25256034-ody-c-vol-1

--  John M. Burt

* http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38447.The_Handmaid_s_Tale

(BTW: A graphic novel of THT is coming soon:  http://groupthink.kinja.com/the-handmaids-tale-graphic-novel-1630506060).

** http://www.sfwa.org/members/elgin/NativeTongue/Index.html

An Open Letter to Hemlock Andashes and Other "Real" Progressives

There is an interesting article here: http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2015/04/fellow-liberals-dont-harass-the-bigots-please/comments/#disqus

There are a number of interesting comments following it.

But one of the more interesting was this: http://back2theroot.com/2015/04/02/open-letter-to-raw-story-blogger-amanda-marotte-other-faux-progressives/, and I am astonished that I've never heard of back2theroot.com before.

And by "interesting" I mean breathtakingly boring.  I don't think this infantile whiner neglected any sophistry, down to and including Godwin's Law.

And by "astonished" I mean that I could not possibly be less surprised.

Dude, when my wife and I were doing cut-and-paste zines in the 1980s, it was typewritten text we were cutting and pasting to make up pages we could print on a photocopier -- we weren't cutting and pasting weary vanguardist tropes so we could feel all "radical" (and yes, I "get" your oh-so-clever play on words...o_0).

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Do the right thing."\\

History, Real and Imaginary

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2015/03/27/the-end-of-the-slave-trade/?ref=opinion

I have just finished my second novel, Frankenstein's World.  Like The Christmas Mutiny, it's an alternate history (although a less plausible one, being based on the idea of Victor Frankenstein being a real person, and his inventions actually working as described in the original book).
I will shortly begin selling Frankenstein's World, and will begin and writing my third, also an alternate history, this one featuring three different alternate-history versions of the American South.  And none of them will be a descendant of our own world's Confederate States of America.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Outlook hazy, ask again later."\\

It Feels Like There is Plastic on My Forehead

But it's really just the Botox at work.
No, not for vanity's sake -- I have a long list of things I'd worry about regarding my appearance before I would be concerned about wrinkles.
It's supposed to reduce the frequency and severity of migraines -- 100mg of Botox in my forehead and shoulders.
I'd really rather get a neck and shoulder massage every week, but then there are a lot of things I'd like to have.
It does seem to be working.  One way I can tell is that if I expend the energy to move my reluctant forehead muscles, I quickly feel the beginning of a headache.  Then I stop.
I'll be back in three months for another round of shots.  I'm going to ask for an anti-anxiety drug  to be prescribed for just before -- getting all those shots was a bit unnerving.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Outlook is Good."\\

Little Black Gloves

For the last few months, I have been wearing black thermal gloves with no fingertips.  They keep my hands warm, which is especially important for me because I have been diagnosed with an assortment of disorders which all tend to reduce circulation in my extremities.
I love these gloves.  They have become looser (they were originally skin-tight), and I need to buy new ones, but they make a huge difference in my quality of life.
Not only do they keep my hands warm, they also remind me to look after my hands.  They remind me, for instance, that I don't have to wash my hands with cold water -- I can wait for the stream to become hot.
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Take care of yourself."\\

George Mails a Letter

While George was putting on his jammies, John told him a story.
"This is a story from when George was a little bit older than he is right now.  George was writing a letter to his Grandma Dorothy.  He told her about what he was studying in school, and about friends he was making this year.  He told her about some new toys he had received recently.  He asked her some questions about how she was doing.  He folded up the letter and put it in an envelope, and he went to where John and Kathe kept stamps and also their address book.
"He copied down Grandma Dorothy's address very carefully, and wrote his own address in the corner.  He put a stamp on the envelope, but then he got worried about whether it was too heavy to mail, so he clipped the envelope to the postage scale that Kathe had shown him how to use.  He saw that his letter weighed a little bit too much for one stamp, and would need a second stamp -- but there weren't any more!
"George went to Kathe and said he was going to the Post Office to buy a stamp for his letter.  Kathe asked him if he would be willing to wait until she went out next, and she would promise to bring stamps home this time.  She said she was sorry she hadn't already bought some.  George said he would rather go right away, because he once wrote a letter and forgot about it, and when he found it months later he had felt very bad about it.  Kathe said she understood how he felt.
"Kathe got a twenty dollar bill from her purse and gave it to George.
"'Please go buy a book of stamps for me, and use one to mail your letter, and bring the stamps and the change back, okay?'  George nodded and took off.
"At the Post Office, George waited in line, and when it got to be his turn, he asked for a book of stamps and then reached into his pocket and -- there was no money in it!  The clerk looked down at George sadly as George's eyes filled with tears.
"'Calm down,' the clerk said.  'Check your pockets carefully before you panic.'
"George put his hand into his left front pocket and felt again, but there was no bill there.  He felt his left back pocket and his right back pocket and then his right front pock-- and there it was!
"George bought a book of stamps and took the stamps and his change, peeled a stamp from the book and stuck it onto his letter, and dropped it through the slot.  Now it was mail, and soon it would be delivered to Grandma Dorothy.
"George walked home and--"
"And on the way home, it rained twenty dollar bills! And George picked up a thousand of them!"
"Okay.  At first George stuffed the bills into his pockets, but soon they were bulging and could not hold any more.  Then he started stuffing them into the neck of his shirt.  By the time he got home, he looked like the Scarecrow of Oz."
"Ha -- haha -- haha!"
"And when he got home, John and Kathe were both amazed, and George was laughing like crazy when he reached into his shirt and pulled out a fistful of twenty dollar bills and said, 'I didn't forget your change!'
"There, how's that for a George story?"
"Good!"
"Okay, well, good night, George."
"Good night, Dad."

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "These things could sell."\\

The Organ Plays

Kathe and I went to a recital of early (15th-16th Century) organ music today at the First United Methodist Church.

http://corvallisfumc.org/

As we looked around the interior, we made a note to bring the seven-year-old when we had him next, so he could admire the architecture and the windows.  I was reminded of a line from C.S. Lewis, something along the lines of, "She was about to make a disparaging reference to 'stained-glass saints' until she remembered what stained glass looks like".

We enjoyed the sacred and secular music, particularly the Agincourt Hymn, which we agreed was a ripsnortin' martial piece.  We wondered what it would sound like with a chorus, and searched YouTube without really having our curiosity satisfied.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IdmwH_I21xY
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QU7kGaDLW9U
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLqQG7v4ujA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rdvFfO-6vro

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Music is powerful, especially if it's any damned good at all."\\ 

There Goes The Plum Tree

Our plum tree, which has dropped excessively-juicy plums onto the grass and sidewalk near the corner of 10th and Jefferson for far longer than I have lived here, is speeding up its decades-long process of falling over.  Its roots are tearing out of the ground, and its branches are touching the grass.

We will get plenty of big blue handle-carefully-they're-soft plums this year, but I think that will be it until one of the suckers coming up from its roots starts bearing.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "To everything there is a season."\\

Review: "The Initiates", by Etienne Davodeau

This is my review of The Initiates, as seen also at Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/880110337

There are obvious parallels between making graphic novels (writing, drawing, printing and distributing to readers) and making wine (raising, fermenting, bottling and distributing to drinkers): Each is a job that can be easily misunderstood.  Each is a form of art which many people fail to recognize as art.  Each is practiced by an assortment of masters, mediocrities and eccentrics not even their peers can understand.  Each has its own arcane practices and occult jargon, incomprehensible to the uninitiated.
There are obvious parallels between reading graphic novels and drinking wine: Some people enjoy them in prudent moderation, while others become obsessives who allow something meant to enrich their lives to take over their lives.  Some people despise anyone who has anything to do with them (using, respectively, the slurs "subliterate" and "drunkard").
Etienne Davodeau and Richard Leroy don't really "exchange jobs", as the subtitle claims.  Rather, they exchange insights into their jobs: Etienne shows Richard his drafting tools and takes him to the editorial offices and the printing press where his unique art is turned into a mass product.  Richard puts Etienne to work pruning vines and draws samples from his barrels to show him how fermenting wine progresses towards the form in which it will be bottled.
Richard offers Etienne tastes of Poulsards and Chardonnays, while Etienne showers Richard with Art Spiegelman and Alan Moore.
I'm amused by the fact that the English title, "The Initiates" stands opposite to the original French title, "Les Ignorants", but at the same time, the underlying principle is the same.  Rather the way that the English word "mammal" compares with its German equivalent, Säugetier.  The one means "milk-producer", while the other means "milk-drinker".  Etienne and Richard both nourish, and they both are nourished.  Reading this book, you will be nourished.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It will be up to you to nourish others with your own talent and labor."\\

A Bit Late, But . . .

I have decided to give up Facebook for Lent.  I will make a sincere effort not to go onto Facebook until Easter Sunday, an occasion I will otherwise not observe.
Persons who are genuinely interested in our current situation, especially Kathe's health, may visit this blog, or e-mail me at john_m_burt@hotmail.com

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Outlook is good."\\

Death -- What a Concept

I ran into an interesting post at Susie Bright's blog, about Ariel Gore and the memoir she allowed herself to write after her mother died:

 http://susiebright.blogs.com/susie_brights_journal_/2014/03/lung-cancer-noir-ariel-gores-masterpiece.html#tpe-action-posted-6a00d8341c5e4053ef01a3fcce7c30970b

It inspired me to make this comment:

I had appalling dreams after my father died, and dream logic followed me into waking life.  I discovered that not only could I not confront the reality that my father was dead, I could not even deal with the reality of death, period, for anyone.  I would find myself imagining corpses living still, drawn-out lives in drawers and back bedrooms, and saying things like, "Oh, yes, she's dead -- but how dead is dead, really?"  It was over a year before I stopped skidding over the concept of death and could say, "Dead is dead.  My father is dead."

Now that my father is definitively dead, though, I can feel his presence more than I could when death didn't exist in my world.  The other day, I saw a joke that involved Marxist jargon and a horrid pun, and I immediately sent it out to the family:

"Q: Why is it that when you flush the toilet at Karl Marx's place, you can hear the sound of stringed instruments?
"A: Because of the violins inherent in the cistern.
"This has been a George S. Burt Memorial E-Mail."

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Yes, he would have liked that one."\\