Or any other IN who dared to show the world their creative chops.
Literal soyboys are by default smarter than women.
Or any other IN who dared to show the world their creative chops.
Literal soyboys are by default smarter than women.
We're in-Cora flinched away from the sunlight as she woke.
No van. No alien. Cora is dusty though. Lindsay likes her women dirty. But she's not alone as she discovers the alien, perched on a rock like a vulture, who then orders her to consume.Nevada... a Paiute reservation called Pyramid Lake
But he's a retard.Cora slowly lowered herself into a crouch next to the bag and reached out to examine its contents. In it she saw a sixteen-ounce bottle of canola oil, a box of brownie mix, a jar of black olives, a jar of Cheez Whiz, a jar of pimentos, and a can of corn.
Ugh. This narrative.“Consume.”
She looked back at the creature, incredulous. It must have grabbed the bag from someone’s car or house after she’d blacked out. Reached in through someone’s kitchen window and snatched it as though any bag of groceries was interchangeable with any other bag of groceries. Grabbed a bag of groceries, determined that the number of calories inside the bag of groceries was commensurate with what a grown human would consume within its predetermined time period, and decided, “Good enough.” Then tossed it at her as if it were dumping seeds in a hamster cage.
Flinch - word of the day kids.She tried not to flinch away from its gaze
Basically, what we have here is the "Dances with Wolves meets the Injuns", or "Avatar becomes woke for the blue cat people" scene. An exchange of ideas, and culture are taught and learned, but done in a retarded manner.She tilted the can awkwardly, braced herself, and downed what little of the hideous corn water she could get into her mouth. When she’d managed as much of that as she could, she started the process of shoveling corn out of the aluminum can and into her face.
But she shovels that in too.Black olives. The answer to the eternal quandary of what if one were to combine snails and old tires into a foodstuff. The only way the creature could have punished her more brutally was if it had forced celery on her.
At this point, can any of you envision what this damn thing is supposed to look like?Once it settled, its posture reminded her more of a deer than a dragon, its arms folded neatly under its midsection, its head raised high and its long, slender neck curved into a slight S. “Nevada.”
And that is Lindsay's writing process right there. Then Cora starts yammering at the thing exactly like the prose we've endured inside her head, AND RECOUNTS WHAT HAS HAPPENED A FEW CHAPTERS BACK. If this thing is smart it just learned women never shut up, and perhaps he should go find a dude that will actually get something done.“Where were you taking me?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t have a plan. I was just trying to get as far away from there as possible. You were in the van. I needed the van to get away.”
See what I mean? Fuck you, Lindsay.“High-ranking military caste. Similars. One higher-ranking Similar, and their subordinates, code-named by your Central Intelligence Agency as entity or entities known as Obelus. Military caste. Homoioi.”
...She wondered if she should bring up the gender question, but given the way the reflection in the creature’s eyes was shifting, it seemed to be having a difficult enough time with nomenclature
I know the question everyone is asking (sarcasm) but please don't ask.“An energy pulse,” he said. “What occurred was a specialized frequency, targeted for amygdaline bodies, cast for a large area, where the precise location of the target is not known. A side effect is disabling some human-made devices with active electric currents.”
To make long stupid matters short, he's here to try to rescue his buddies that her Aunty (COINCIDENCE) had held and were trying to communicate with. And before the others, sorry the SIMILARS, fuck me, extradite them. Extradite? Extradite!The creature’s stillness broke, and he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side like a dog. “An individual amygdaline, a former technocrat Oligarch of the Superorganism your Central Intelligence Agency has code-named ‘Pequod.’ I was summoned by one person of the Fremda group in custody at ROSA, code-named ‘Čefo.’”
Okay, guys. This thing is trying to explain the different caste system races. Do I need to copy paste all that shit? Ambersand, who from now on I'm denoting as &, is a step above the low caste idiots (the "crude ones") that are captured in a room in a guv'ment building somewhere. & is a Fremda "Crude ones" are Pequod. Then there's the other things from above. I think. Fuck it, I don't really care.“Extradite?”
He paused as though rethinking his translation. “Extradite.”
While she knew it probably wasn’t a one-to-one translation, “extradite” was such a specific term in English and generally only referred to criminality. “What have you done?” she whispered, fear creeping back into her voice.
Got that? Or and there's some shit about being a survivor of genocide, because in a Lindsay Ellis novel of course it is.“You … call yourself an ‘amygdaline’?”
“This is the term utilized by ROSA for individuals of species ‘Pequod.’” His speech software awkwardly spelled it R-O-S-A rather than pronouncing it like a word as Luciana always had.
“Okay,” she breathed. “What is ‘Fremda,’ then?”
“Čefo’s group sought asylum on this planet and was bred into a subrace of our species. The term Luciana Ortega uses for our refugee group is Fremda. This ‘Fremdan’ subrace of civilization ‘Pequod’ was the target of extermination due to the possession of undesirable traits.”
“Why here?” she asked. “Why Earth?”
“I do not know,” said Ampersand. “I surmise that Earth was chosen because it was known to the Superorganism, and therefore to Čefo’s group, as having an oxygen-rich, stable climate—”
She blinked. “Superorganism?”
“—and had likely not been colonized or consumed by transients.”
If there was any blood left in her face, it was now gone. “‘Transients’?”
World building, folks!“How many exoterran species are there?”
“Trillions.”
So, apparently the last time the, *sigh, superorganism, spot checked Earth, it was 655 years ago. They are befuddled about the population explosion and the rapid technological- look does this shit even matter?“Three distinct known spacefaring civilizations,” said Ampersand. “Two post-natural, one post-biological.”
Immigration commentary?She couldn’t help but laugh, and she shook her head. “You’re afraid of us.”
“Would you consider a fear of billions of flesh-eating aliens illogical?”
Then fuck off back behind the wall, asshole.“I am alone on an alien planet. I have neither resources nor means to communicate with those who summoned me here. I am being hunted by militarists from the Superorganism, and I have no allies. And the dominant species on the planet is billions of aggressive, violent flesh-eaters.”
Then Chief Duck in Pants smokem peace pipe.It was around this point she registered that what was happening was an actual conversation. An exchange of information, if not between peers, then at least under that pretense.
So they team up.Now he was answering her questions, as if he saw a possibility that she might have something valuable to contribute.
As if he saw her as a potential ally instead of a tool
Dumb sentence.“Well,” she said, “as a young white female of the species, I’m less likely to be looked at with suspicion by others, especially men. I’m, um, more nonthreatening for what I am, for my place in the social hierarchy. For instance, I’m of the demographic that is most likely to shoplift but least likely to get caught for it. Does that make sense?”
What?More silence. Tense silence. His focus was growing and contracting slowly like a fist slowly contracting and expanding.
As I mentioned before, the New York Times list is a survey list, not a tabulation of total sales. This means that they poll a curated selection of booksellers to estimate sales. They literally decide which bookstores and retail outlets are important and then only count those sales, ignoring all other sales. They also heavily weight independent bookstore sales. This is because they think that the type of people who shop at indie bookstores are more serious readers and thus their reading decisions deserve more attention. I'm serious, they have said this in public.
I think Lindsay forgot, She's basically writing a savior, wish-fulfillment version of herself and probably forgot she virtue-signaled on that character in the first chapter.
Goddamn how do you fuck that up? You'd think that her only defining trait aside from being a mary-sue is that she was a spic and that she'll mention that she's a spic just to hammer it in and you can't even get that right?!?
da PAC Nigguh wrote: ↑Wed Nov 25, 2020 12:06 amShit like this is why satire is dead in currentyear.
I'll be fair, this chapter was at least better than the others because shit actually happens. The part about the Alien just giving her random food to eat and only thinking of calories without going in depth is actually good since it makes sense for it to not know the fine details. On the surface the lore is fine, the aliens are fleeing tyranny to Earth and some of low castes who escaped have bred to create a new sub-race they want killed. Nothing all that special but fine, though with her specifically mentioning castes I think of India, it would be hilarious if she fucked the alien and aborted the baby due to it being more trouble than it's worth, that recommendation on the front did say something about it "questioning what it is to be human".pibbs wrote: ↑Wed Jul 29, 2020 11:38 pmSpoilerShowAxiom's End by HotDog Girl
Chapter 12: Dances with Fools
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch
I now see that every chapter is going to start with a winner of a sentence.We're in-Cora flinched away from the sunlight as she woke.No van. No alien. Cora is dusty though. Lindsay likes her women dirty. But she's not alone as she discovers the alien, perched on a rock like a vulture, who then orders her to consume.Nevada... a Paiute reservation called Pyramid Lake
ET brought snacks!But he's a retard.Cora slowly lowered herself into a crouch next to the bag and reached out to examine its contents. In it she saw a sixteen-ounce bottle of canola oil, a box of brownie mix, a jar of black olives, a jar of Cheez Whiz, a jar of pimentos, and a can of corn.
And so is this author.Ugh. This narrative.“Consume.”
She looked back at the creature, incredulous. It must have grabbed the bag from someone’s car or house after she’d blacked out. Reached in through someone’s kitchen window and snatched it as though any bag of groceries was interchangeable with any other bag of groceries. Grabbed a bag of groceries, determined that the number of calories inside the bag of groceries was commensurate with what a grown human would consume within its predetermined time period, and decided, “Good enough.” Then tossed it at her as if it were dumping seeds in a hamster cage.
Flinch - word of the day kids.She tried not to flinch away from its gaze
She looks into its eyes and as Lindsay puts it, instead of one retina it has millions. SO ET opens a can of corn for her, after she whines she can't consume said can.Basically, what we have here is the "Dances with Wolves meets the Injuns", or "Avatar becomes woke for the blue cat people" scene. An exchange of ideas, and culture are taught and learned, but done in a retarded manner.She tilted the can awkwardly, braced herself, and downed what little of the hideous corn water she could get into her mouth. When she’d managed as much of that as she could, she started the process of shoveling corn out of the aluminum can and into her face.
Lindsay hates black olives.But she shovels that in too.Black olives. The answer to the eternal quandary of what if one were to combine snails and old tires into a foodstuff. The only way the creature could have punished her more brutally was if it had forced celery on her.
She asks where they are and we get some description of the ET.At this point, can any of you envision what this damn thing is supposed to look like?Once it settled, its posture reminded her more of a deer than a dragon, its arms folded neatly under its midsection, its head raised high and its long, slender neck curved into a slight S. “Nevada.”
The creature asks what we've all been asking.And that is Lindsay's writing process right there. Then Cora starts yammering at the thing exactly like the prose we've endured inside her head, AND RECOUNTS WHAT HAS HAPPENED A FEW CHAPTERS BACK. If this thing is smart it just learned women never shut up, and perhaps he should go find a dude that will actually get something done.“Where were you taking me?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t have a plan. I was just trying to get as far away from there as possible. You were in the van. I needed the van to get away.”
It reveals that he didn't do the EMP but similars. This is tiresome. It doesn't know about brownie mix, but knows what Nevada is. It speaks like a old west Indian sometimes, and other times has a more sophisticated vocabulary. I guess whatever is needed at the time, right, author?
Cora asks for clarification on similars,.See what I mean? Fuck you, Lindsay.“High-ranking military caste. Similars. One higher-ranking Similar, and their subordinates, code-named by your Central Intelligence Agency as entity or entities known as Obelus. Military caste. Homoioi.”
The retardation continues. They decide to name him Ampersand.
.......She wondered if she should bring up the gender question, but given the way the reflection in the creature’s eyes was shifting, it seemed to be having a difficult enough time with nomenclature
I'm going to need a small break after this chapter.
He explains the EMP, if any of you were curious.I know the question everyone is asking (sarcasm) but please don't ask.“An energy pulse,” he said. “What occurred was a specialized frequency, targeted for amygdaline bodies, cast for a large area, where the precise location of the target is not known. A side effect is disabling some human-made devices with active electric currents.”
...
Ok. Why is it here?To make long stupid matters short, he's here to try to rescue his buddies that her Aunty (COINCIDENCE) had held and were trying to communicate with. And before the others, sorry the SIMILARS, fuck me, extradite them. Extradite? Extradite!The creature’s stillness broke, and he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side like a dog. “An individual amygdaline, a former technocrat Oligarch of the Superorganism your Central Intelligence Agency has code-named ‘Pequod.’ I was summoned by one person of the Fremda group in custody at ROSA, code-named ‘Čefo.’”Okay, guys. This thing is trying to explain the different caste system races. Do I need to copy paste all that shit? Ambersand, who from now on I'm denoting as &, is a step above the low caste idiots (the "crude ones") that are captured in a room in a guv'ment building somewhere. & is a Fremda "Crude ones" are Pequod. Then there's the other things from above. I think. Fuck it, I don't really care.“Extradite?”
He paused as though rethinking his translation. “Extradite.”
While she knew it probably wasn’t a one-to-one translation, “extradite” was such a specific term in English and generally only referred to criminality. “What have you done?” she whispered, fear creeping back into her voice.
Got that? Or and there's some shit about being a survivor of genocide, because in a Lindsay Ellis novel of course it is.“You … call yourself an ‘amygdaline’?”
“This is the term utilized by ROSA for individuals of species ‘Pequod.’” His speech software awkwardly spelled it R-O-S-A rather than pronouncing it like a word as Luciana always had.
“Okay,” she breathed. “What is ‘Fremda,’ then?”
“Čefo’s group sought asylum on this planet and was bred into a subrace of our species. The term Luciana Ortega uses for our refugee group is Fremda. This ‘Fremdan’ subrace of civilization ‘Pequod’ was the target of extermination due to the possession of undesirable traits.”
And not even Cora can keep up with this horseshit.“Why here?” she asked. “Why Earth?”
“I do not know,” said Ampersand. “I surmise that Earth was chosen because it was known to the Superorganism, and therefore to Čefo’s group, as having an oxygen-rich, stable climate—”
She blinked. “Superorganism?”
“—and had likely not been colonized or consumed by transients.”
If there was any blood left in her face, it was now gone. “‘Transients’?”World building, folks!“How many exoterran species are there?”
“Trillions.”
So, how many of these fucking things are there?So, apparently the last time the, *sigh, superorganism, spot checked Earth, it was 655 years ago. They are befuddled about the population explosion and the rapid technological- look does this shit even matter?“Three distinct known spacefaring civilizations,” said Ampersand. “Two post-natural, one post-biological.”
So, & caught Cora eating a burger and wants his people to reconsider moving to Erf.Immigration commentary?She couldn’t help but laugh, and she shook her head. “You’re afraid of us.”
“Would you consider a fear of billions of flesh-eating aliens illogical?”Then fuck off back behind the wall, asshole.“I am alone on an alien planet. I have neither resources nor means to communicate with those who summoned me here. I am being hunted by militarists from the Superorganism, and I have no allies. And the dominant species on the planet is billions of aggressive, violent flesh-eaters.”Then Chief Duck in Pants smokem peace pipe.It was around this point she registered that what was happening was an actual conversation. An exchange of information, if not between peers, then at least under that pretense.So they team up.Now he was answering her questions, as if he saw a possibility that she might have something valuable to contribute.
As if he saw her as a potential ally instead of a tool
This made me laugh, but not for the intent Lindsay had.Dumb sentence.“Well,” she said, “as a young white female of the species, I’m less likely to be looked at with suspicion by others, especially men. I’m, um, more nonthreatening for what I am, for my place in the social hierarchy. For instance, I’m of the demographic that is most likely to shoplift but least likely to get caught for it. Does that make sense?”What?More silence. Tense silence. His focus was growing and contracting slowly like a fist slowly contracting and expanding.
& accepts their alliance.
End Chapter
She can't help but show off how smart she thinks she is. Who the fuck talks like that in real life? Other than antifa idiots at rallies/riots no one uses the terms "social hierarchy" and "demographic" like that in regular conversation. She is the kind of person who would shit on Ayn Rand when she did the same shit in Atlus Shrugged.“Well,” she said, “as a young white female of the species, I’m less likely to be looked at with suspicion by others, especially men. I’m, um, more nonthreatening for what I am, for my place in the social hierarchy. For instance, I’m of the demographic that is most likely to shoplift but least likely to get caught for it. Does that make sense?”
Old Black Man wrote: ↑Wed Nov 27, 2019 9:11 pmAlso Lupa’s grandmother? Please, we know that hag was alive and well back then. She’s like the dude from Highlander, only a cunt.
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