Groonkly Bit


I live. I stir. I’ve got much nonsense in my head and it needs to be siphoned off. Or possibly bled out. One way or another, the nonsense should go into the interwub while all the good thoughts continue to keep me warm and focused on making some useful and, god willing, sellable fiction.

Tranferring mind energies means one half of the equation is always unbalanced. I would make a terrible chemist. Don’t even talk to me about math. The thing about my way of balancing, there’s always a shift. The fat kid bores with his side of the see-saw and bullies his flunky to switch seats.

Until that happens, things will be slow here.

There’s a bit in one of the later Jack Ryan books — and you’re damn right I read them all, those things sold in the multimillions and were acting on the heads of a mass audience like no-one since Stephen King — where a general says to Ryan, “we will give them HYPERWAR.” And I said, fuck yeah, show me the HYPERWAR, you funny-looking little man. No fucking sign of it. No discussion, no theory, no evidence aside from a single UAV and some micromunitions. If you promise me HYPERWAR, I want to fucking learn about it. But that might have slowed down the relentless this-happens-then-that-happens-then-this-other-thing-happens.

–Warren Ellis “How Is It Friday Already?” Bad Signal Newsletter

Ellis had words about Tom Clancy’s writing style. Needless to say, he was not amused. Yet he buy’s the suckers each time.

I was amused by the “you funny-looking little man” comment and the thought of “HYPERWAR”. Why that is, I do not know.

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