Alıntı: Richard Morgan - Altered Carbon

Drunk one night, Sarah had told me Women are the race, Tak. No two ways about it. Male is just a mutation with more muscle and half the nerves. Fighting, fucking machines. My own cross-sleevings had borne that theory out. To be a woman was a sensory experience beyond the male. Touch and texture ran deeper, an interface with environment that male flesh seemed to seal out instinctively. To a man, skin was a barrier, a protection. To a woman it was an organ of contact.


Alıntı: Iain M. Banks - Use of Weapons (Culture Series)

    ‘Of course I don't have to do this,’ one middle-aged man said, carefully cleaning the table with a damp cloth. He put the cloth in a little pouch, sat down beside him. ‘But look; this table's clean.’
    He agreed that the table was clean.
    ‘Usually,’ the man said, ‘I work on alien — no offence — alien religions; Directional Emphasis In Religious Observance; that's my specialty . . . like when temples or graves or prayers always have to face in a certain direction; that sort of thing? Well, I catalogue, evaluate, compare; I come up with theories and argue with colleagues, here and elsewhere. But . . . the job's never finished; always new examples, and even the old ones get re-evaluated, and new people come along with new ideas about what you thought was settled . . . but,’ he slapped the table, ‘when you clean a table you clean a table. You feel you've done something. It's an achievement.’
    ‘But in the end, it's still just cleaning a table.’
    ‘And therefore does not really signify on the cosmic scale of events?’ the man suggested.
    He smiled in response to the man's grin, ‘Well, yes.’
    ‘But then, what does signify? My other work? Is that really important, either? I could try composing wonderful musical works, or day-long entertainment epics, but what would that do? Give people pleasure? My wiping this table gives me pleasure. And people come to a clean table, which gives them pleasure. And anyway,’ the man laughed, ‘people die; stars die; universes die. What is any achievement, however great it was, once time itself is dead? Of course, if all I did was wipe tables, then of course it would seem a mean and despicable waste of my huge intellectual potential. But because I choose to do it, it gives me pleasure. And,’ the man said with a smile, ‘it's a good way of meeting people. So; where are you from, anyway?’


The Game?

Sometimes I feel as if I've lost a game whose rules were unknown to me.


From now on it's "blank screen" only for me

What scares-- no, actually, annoys me is not that we could be a computer simulation but that a cheap one at that. We could have been created by a trillion-year-old hyperpotent 42-dimensional being who can do quantum calculations in his head, as a screen saver to amuse himself and his coworkers. Moreover, this creator, godlike to us but an average schmuck to his friends, could be poised, any megayear now, to return from lunch and erase us from existence with the flick of a greasy finger.



There's a horror movie called "Alien?" That's really offensive, no wonder everyone keeps invading you!


Tip of the Day

Never trust a vampire hunter whose neck isn't covered with tattoos of crosses.


Ursula Le Guin explains the True Neutral alignment :)

Do you see, Arren, how an act is not, as young men think, like a rock that one picks up and throws, and it hits or misses, and that's the end of it. When that rock is lifted the earth is lighter, the hand that bears it heavier. When it is thrown the circuits of the stars respond, and where it strikes or falls the universe is changed. On every act the balance of the whole depends. The winds and seas, the powers of water and earth and light, all that these do, and all that the beasts and green things do, is well done, and rightly done. All these act within the Equilibrium. From the hurricane and the great whale's sounding to the fall of a dry leaf and the gnat's flight, all they do is done within the balance of the whole. But we, in so far as we have power over the world and over one another, we must learn to do what the leaf and the whale and the wind do of their own nature. We must learn to keep the balance. Having intelligence, we must not act in ignorance. Having choice, we must not act without responsibility. Who am I – though I have the power to do it – to punish and reward, playing with men's destinies?
― Ursula Le Guin, The Earthsea Quartet