CHICKENS IN A BOOK: BOOK BOOK BGAWK (new book thread)

[Greg Nog]

oh cool, that's a page break right there

[YojimboMonkey]

* YojimboMonkey applauds

[YojimboMonkey]

However

Denna began showing him what the Agiel would do, how if she dragged it lightly across his flesh, it
raised fluid-filled welts, and how if she pressed a little harder, they filled with blood. When she bore
down, he could feel warm wetness on his sweaty, skin. She could also make the exact same pain without
leaving a mark. His teeth hurt from gritting them so hard. Sometimes she would stand- behind him,
waiting until he was off guard before she touched it to him. When she tired of that she made him close his
eyes and keep them closed while she walked around him, pressing it against him or dragging it around his
chest.

So apparently the magical torture dildo, through its torturous magical dildonics, could be used to disfigure or to merely inflict the pain without the accompanying crippling anal jellification

[Greg Nog]

Ah ha!  I somehow missed that, likely due to my worries about the hero's anus.  Thank you!

[dumbfish]

It's impressive that the author was able to write all that stuff with just the one hand.

[Greg Nog]

1.  Use Dragon Dictate
2.  Import to Word
3.  Autodelete all instances of "Huhhhh" and "Nnnnn"

[milly balgeary]

Man. The kindle continues to happen to be the greatest of all gifts. You buy someone a kindle, you load your fav books on it, you gift it. It will get you sex, it will get you the satisfaction of making people read shit you like, if you're brilliant you can convert your own short stories to mob format and get more sex. You can give these things to people, and load a couple hundred of your favorite books and it will be like handing someone a mini library of Alexandria. Books on astral travelling, the run of poems from my alter ego housewife who writes "blue" poetry about her sex life with her husband, old occult texts transferred to rtf by strange sad dangerous men, the complete run of sk, every nebula winner since the 60's, a ton of 50's pulp runs of sic fi detective mags, all of pynchons work, around 300 books that I just like, about 30 short stories from yours truly, some weird PDFs about cthulla, and yet more! Roth, bellows, auster, wallace, dickens, e howard, all of the Malatzen books of the fallen, a ton of weird short story collections, all of ice and fire, a run of weird horror novels like Thomas tyron?...and you get....you name it

[milly balgeary]

You give that, you ask if there is a chanc for a threesome

[Antero]

The magical torture dildos are called Agiels.  I just googled and found a PDF of the first book and I will quote for you some choice passages.

God, it's even worse than I remember.  I haven't read that shit since 8th grade.

In retrospect, kind of a weird thing for an 8th grader to be reading.

[davy]

I just started American Gods. I'm sort of getting into the story, but...

Then he grinned, like a fox eating shit from a barbed-wire fence.

and a couple inches later

the color of the walls is close to that of raw liver

and on the next page

She is rocking back and forth on him: the engorged head of his penis is being rubbed against the wet lips of her vulva.

Why does Neil Gaiman write this way? That first line has like 3 or 4 things wrong with it (a "shit-eating grin" is not close to the same thing as grinning "like eating shit" and what the fuck does barbed wire have to do with anything? And why a fox? I mean, has Neil Gaiman ever seen a fox eating shit from a barbed wire fence? And did it look just like this man in the restroom?) and the last one is honestly one of the worst sentences I've ever read.

I try to enjoy this guy's work, I really do.

[coldforge]

American Gods is a text best left to slightly over-educated teenagers. If you're not the sort of person who would be tickled pink by a 1:1 allusion on the level of 'Mr. Wednesday', then there's absolutely nothing there for you.

[Greg Nog]

You guys are acting like you've never seen an edible-shit-dispensing fence before.

[dieblucasdie]

Hey pollo, I'm finally being forced to read Blood Meridian next week.  The fact that I'll be straining to think up dismissive one-liners during my reading may hurt my performance at discussion

[elpollodiablo]

Well I dont think it'll be all that tough, he said. He looked into his MacBook as though he'd scry there the remainders of some endarkened and crenellated history in which his own life and the life of his people played no part. I dont think it'll be especially tough at all.

[milly balgeary]

Oh I dunno, there's nothing wrong with American Gods. There is a short story that features the main char Shadow that I rather like, but I'm hard pressed to recall where that short story can be found. I think it's in one of Gaiman's short story collections. If you guys have better novels, I'd sure like to read em!!

[milly balgeary]

Also, HBO is making a series based on American Gods! Damn you HBO, don't you realize that your audience of under-educated teens is going to ralph and go back to watching Joan of Arcadia DVDS. CHRIST.

[elpollodiablo]

main char Shadow

[Greg Nog]

Well I dont think it'll be all that tough, he said. He looked into his MacBook as though he'd scry there the remainders of some endarkened and crenellated history in which his own life and the life of his people played no part. I dont think it'll be especially tough at all.

*lols, smashes baby against macbook, dances*

[milly balgeary]

main char Shadow

Oh c'mon

[milly balgeary]

Man yesterday I got this in the mail:



I been waitin 2 years and goddamn if it ain't great so far!Achamian is part of a group of once-derided magicians who believe the consult is not dead and part of their curse is that they dream they are Seswatha the creator of their order every night. His dream has change here, and the No-god, Mog-Pharue, the whirlwind who is like Sauron I guess... is the one asking him what he sees.


Seswatha paused on the stair, warred with his stomach. He looked down, and for some reason felt no surprise, no alarm, to see that the golden map-case had become an infant’s inert form. Blue and grey. Mottled with black bruising, as if it had perished while lying on its face. Slicked with the sweat of the dead.

Such is the madness of dreams that we can neglect the continuity of even the most basic things. An infant corpse, it seemed, had always been what he carried.

Achamian followed the grooves of the Dream thoughtful only of what had been thought, oblivious to the discrepancies. Only when he came to a halt beneath the arcane machinery of the Gate, only when he commanded the proxies to roll back the Gate, did he find himself skidding across unlived life...

Squirming. The dead baby was twisting and straining against his hands.

The Great Gate of Wheels rumbled to cracking life. At last the Archmage gazed down in horror.

Black eyes shining up with newborn bleariness. Fat-webbed arms reaching out, tiny fingers clutching.

Revulsion. Flailing panic. He cast the thing the way a boy might throw off at a spider or a snake, but it simply hung in the air before him, made a cradle of empty space. Behind it, the wheels of the Gate continued their groaning tumble.

“This,” Seswatha gasped, “is not what hap–!”

The last of the great bronze cogs had ceased their clacking. The Gate of Wheels was drawing open...

The infant had dropped from the air. A golden tube clattered where it had fallen. Beyond it, the ponderous bronze machinery of the Gate folded into blackness. A gust swept out across the antechamber.

Achamian stood immobile.

Wind roiled and twisted. His gown tugged at his limbs. A rumble shivered through the walls and lintels, deep, as if a tempest lashed some world inside the world. The Gate, which stood within the Library’s deepest heart, now opened onto the sky–not the Coffers, the sky! And he could see the Library, as though the Pausal hung from a great height above it. Bastions collapsing. Walls flying outward in strings of sand. And he could see it... the horror of horrors within billowing skirts of dust and debris, a mountain of black-spinning wind that linked wrecked earth to flickering clouds. Existence itself howled.

TELL ME... the Whirlwind said.

WHAT DO YOU SEE?

[davy]

George R. R. Martin reports: Kong is dead.

[davy]

Her nipples, every goosebump on the areolae, were visible momentarily, dark against the white cotton.

Ugh.

[elpollodiablo]

I think you mean "fap"

[davy]

Terry Goodkind he ain't.

[milly balgeary]

George R. R. Martin reports: Kong is dead.

OH man, I am gonna semen them dragons