(no subject)
I had a lovely little Christmas this year and no, I didn't get any more Snuggies. If I had, I would have sewn the two together to make the biggest nightgown in history--as well as the most hazardous to life and limb. What I got was a el neato digital picture frame that is right now displaying some pix and art on my entertainment center. I haven't uploaded Lucius yet, but I will. If I do, I'll have to also upload some sexytime music to go along with the slideshow. I also got a marble cheese slicer which is nifty. I've been cutting cheese all week. It's disgusting. And fragrant. You don't want to know. Oh and I also got a new Stephen King novel. Under the Dome. It's about the size of War and Peace and what's a laugh is King says in the back 'Afterward' page that he's so thankful for his editor for shrinking this dinosaur down.' It's about 1000 pages now. What was it before? A goddamn unabridged Websters? Good Christ. I guess he wanted his Constant Reader to be able to lift it while sitting on the pot. But I read it and
was hanging in there until I got to the heavily padded middle. Folks, his editor wasn't merciless enough. Most of the middle is interpersonal drama, but one good bit where four of them make an important discovery and start to solve the mystery of why Chester Mills is suddenly under a clear, impervious dome. There's killing and blood and assholes plotting to kill other assholes and sometimes nice people. There's a guy framed for murder and toward the beginning of the novel, missiles. Because of course they all want to escape, so the military shoot rockets at it. It doesn't work. And the dome starts to trap greenhouse gasses and the chemical offal from several fires. There's riots and looting. And they try some kind of super acid to dissolve it and that doesn't work either. Well about 3/4 of the way in, I'm asking King, 'ok, now they're going to try tunneling. They'll get mining equipment out and try to rescue Chester Mills that way.'
Did this happen?
Fuck no.
Granted, I did skim the middle some and maybe some character at least MENTIONS the idea, but as far as I saw, nada. So I said to myself, 'well the dome probably goes down too far' but the writer part of me wasn't buying it, since the characters weren't exploring that option and so wouldn't know the dome's bottom limit. But at the end . . .
END NOVEL SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
. . . when the dome does finally go up, the device that controls it rises 4 feet in the air. Outside, the dome also rises 4 feet in the air. Follow me? And earlier, some sergeant is talking about how it's lucky they have artesian wells or they wouldn't have any fresh water at all. Hello? If underground precipitation is getting through, the dome doesn't go down that far! Dig, fuckers, dig! Yeesh. So basically the dome not only doesn't go down enough to cut off their underground streamlets, it's at GROUND LEVEL. Now these hicks have been branded with the TSTL mark for all time and so have the outside rescue squad and the entire country, for that matter. Worse yet, King seems to realize his boo-boo and sticks in some line (as the dome is finally going up) that a guy leaning against the Dome feels it 'go up and up' for a very long time, like the dome is sunk far into the ground. Sorry King. Too little, too late. And it contradicts what you wrote just a few pages ago! A am disgustipated, as Popeye might say. I almost dropped the novel down the loo. It's lucky I didn't wipe my ass with the final chapter, but my arms were so tired from holding this behemoth up close enough to read that I couldn't rip a sheet off the toilet roll, let alone the tougher pages of a book. I'm going to go through the middle some time and double check for digging. If I see a shovel, I'll feel the thrill of hope. Or even a dog digging at the edge.
I also remember reading King's 'On Writing' where he talks about his first submissions and got back manuscripts with 'not bad, but puffy' and advice on how to cut down the verbiage some. In a way I miss his really early stuff like Carrie, where he said exactly what he needed to and no more. Am I a purist? But I also like The Stand (uncut) so what does that say about me?
*update*
I've held off posting this mini-review while I re-read said book.
There. Is. No. Friggin'. Diggin'.
The smartest kid (okay maybe second smartest because the first smartest actually figures out the alien race card) in the novel shoots it at point blank range and kills himself from the rebound. I guess from that point, I should have lost hope. Stephen King is senile. He gave us decades of shivery terror, but he's reached his upper limit and broke his brain. Send him flowers, please. His wife will need your kind support in this difficult time.
It's nearly midnight a few days into this bright new year and I've lost all hope for humanity.
was hanging in there until I got to the heavily padded middle. Folks, his editor wasn't merciless enough. Most of the middle is interpersonal drama, but one good bit where four of them make an important discovery and start to solve the mystery of why Chester Mills is suddenly under a clear, impervious dome. There's killing and blood and assholes plotting to kill other assholes and sometimes nice people. There's a guy framed for murder and toward the beginning of the novel, missiles. Because of course they all want to escape, so the military shoot rockets at it. It doesn't work. And the dome starts to trap greenhouse gasses and the chemical offal from several fires. There's riots and looting. And they try some kind of super acid to dissolve it and that doesn't work either. Well about 3/4 of the way in, I'm asking King, 'ok, now they're going to try tunneling. They'll get mining equipment out and try to rescue Chester Mills that way.'
Did this happen?
Fuck no.
Granted, I did skim the middle some and maybe some character at least MENTIONS the idea, but as far as I saw, nada. So I said to myself, 'well the dome probably goes down too far' but the writer part of me wasn't buying it, since the characters weren't exploring that option and so wouldn't know the dome's bottom limit. But at the end . . .
END NOVEL SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
. . . when the dome does finally go up, the device that controls it rises 4 feet in the air. Outside, the dome also rises 4 feet in the air. Follow me? And earlier, some sergeant is talking about how it's lucky they have artesian wells or they wouldn't have any fresh water at all. Hello? If underground precipitation is getting through, the dome doesn't go down that far! Dig, fuckers, dig! Yeesh. So basically the dome not only doesn't go down enough to cut off their underground streamlets, it's at GROUND LEVEL. Now these hicks have been branded with the TSTL mark for all time and so have the outside rescue squad and the entire country, for that matter. Worse yet, King seems to realize his boo-boo and sticks in some line (as the dome is finally going up) that a guy leaning against the Dome feels it 'go up and up' for a very long time, like the dome is sunk far into the ground. Sorry King. Too little, too late. And it contradicts what you wrote just a few pages ago! A am disgustipated, as Popeye might say. I almost dropped the novel down the loo. It's lucky I didn't wipe my ass with the final chapter, but my arms were so tired from holding this behemoth up close enough to read that I couldn't rip a sheet off the toilet roll, let alone the tougher pages of a book. I'm going to go through the middle some time and double check for digging. If I see a shovel, I'll feel the thrill of hope. Or even a dog digging at the edge.
I also remember reading King's 'On Writing' where he talks about his first submissions and got back manuscripts with 'not bad, but puffy' and advice on how to cut down the verbiage some. In a way I miss his really early stuff like Carrie, where he said exactly what he needed to and no more. Am I a purist? But I also like The Stand (uncut) so what does that say about me?
*update*
I've held off posting this mini-review while I re-read said book.
There. Is. No. Friggin'. Diggin'.
The smartest kid (okay maybe second smartest because the first smartest actually figures out the alien race card) in the novel shoots it at point blank range and kills himself from the rebound. I guess from that point, I should have lost hope. Stephen King is senile. He gave us decades of shivery terror, but he's reached his upper limit and broke his brain. Send him flowers, please. His wife will need your kind support in this difficult time.
It's nearly midnight a few days into this bright new year and I've lost all hope for humanity.