(no subject)
I don't know what to say. His books were the tools that first cracked open my brain, allowing me to realize I didn't have to buy the bullshit wholesale. Realize that to look at the cold, uncaring, brutal world for exactly what it is was not only a stupid exercise, it was fundamentally necessary.
Inserting himself into the bar scene Breakfast of Champions (with leaks to cover his eyes), acknowledging himself as the god of that universe, watching his creations move around while contracting the universe down to a sphere 20 miles across and expanding it back to its original size taught me something. I still don't really know exactly what.
Sometimes I think of the caves of Mercury, letting the little kite shaped beings feed on the vibrations of my pulse. Being careful not to let them too close to the small radio, lest they feed on the music and die of ecstasy.
Sometimes I think of the little Grandmother who took out an entire landing party of Martians with a shotgun. What a doomed invasion.
Sometimes I think of the machine room in the Ilium Works, where one PhD does the work and everyone else gets drunk and feels useless.
Sometimes I think of all of the lessons that I can't quite call up from the depths of my mind, but they undoubtedly sit somewhere close to where the decisions are made.
I saw his death coming a long way off, and told myself I would go to his funeral. I'm sure not to make it, but it just sort of reinforces everything he taught me. Like all of the others who were changed by your stories, I could make the "So it goes" comment. After all, who cares if your dead in this moment? You're perfectly fine in a lot of other ones.
But it just doesn't sit right with me. You're gone from our little three dimensional world, and it's poorer for it.
Thank you, Kurt. For everything.
Inserting himself into the bar scene Breakfast of Champions (with leaks to cover his eyes), acknowledging himself as the god of that universe, watching his creations move around while contracting the universe down to a sphere 20 miles across and expanding it back to its original size taught me something. I still don't really know exactly what.
Sometimes I think of the caves of Mercury, letting the little kite shaped beings feed on the vibrations of my pulse. Being careful not to let them too close to the small radio, lest they feed on the music and die of ecstasy.
Sometimes I think of the little Grandmother who took out an entire landing party of Martians with a shotgun. What a doomed invasion.
Sometimes I think of the machine room in the Ilium Works, where one PhD does the work and everyone else gets drunk and feels useless.
Sometimes I think of all of the lessons that I can't quite call up from the depths of my mind, but they undoubtedly sit somewhere close to where the decisions are made.
I saw his death coming a long way off, and told myself I would go to his funeral. I'm sure not to make it, but it just sort of reinforces everything he taught me. Like all of the others who were changed by your stories, I could make the "So it goes" comment. After all, who cares if your dead in this moment? You're perfectly fine in a lot of other ones.
But it just doesn't sit right with me. You're gone from our little three dimensional world, and it's poorer for it.
Thank you, Kurt. For everything.