All the Books: Recipe #4 – Lamb Shanks Rosemary

There is a book that I inherited when my mother died called The New Complete Book of Cookery, and it comes from a company called Tee Vee Books. Wait... what? TeeVee Books? What the hell is that? Can’t find a hell of a lot on the internet about this. There is literally no author, there is a forward that only mentions The Editor, like they’re The Mysterious Package Company or something. The copyright is to a Paul Hamlyn PTY LTD, which is in Australia and... that’s about all I know. Book was printed in Japan, I’m out of fun facts about this book. Seriously, Unless you want a link to the Paul Hamlyn Foundation, I am pulling the ripcord on the factual part of this paragraph and diving into Speculation Bay. The name makes me think this was ordered through a TV commercial. Order now, operators are standing by, but wait, there’s more, sort of thing.

The internet seems to think there was once a slip cover to this book, but that’s gone long ago and all we have is this red leatherette. Something that bugs me about this book... the title on the spine is upside down. LISTEN! When you place a book on a table, with the cover facing up, the title on the spine should be situated so you can read it. Almost all books get this, why can’t The New Complete Book of Cookery? Answer me 46 year old book! This is also one of those books where there are a total of ten glossy pages so there are very few pictures of the food,. There are also very short recipes. That shot? That’s the whole thing. Nothing in life will prepare you for a four sentence recipe. I’ve found more detailed instructions in recipes from the back of soup cans.

So I had these four lamb shanks, and I had NO idea what to do with them. Now some of you, the cynical ones, are thinking I began grabbing books at random and frantically pawed through them. I just want to you know I am deeply disappointed in you and your cynicism is destroying us from within. No, I grabbed this book at random, opened the book at random, and my eyes landed on this recipe. Because when I go to pick something at random, I roll a Natural 20. If you’re nerdy enough to get that joke, you’re too nerdy to give me shit about dropping such a nerdy joke. Choke on it.

So, here’s the thing. I was going to let this sit in the crock pot while I went to work that day, because I multi task, you know? But that did mean I would need to have juniper berries... on hand... or would have to get them at 9:30 at night when I decided to set up my mise en place. Juniper berries are apparently contraband. I went to three different places, but none of them are the damn international shops that closed at 9. However, after the Gazpacho Disaster, I said we’d play Calvinball and so we shall. Gin works in a pinch and you KNOW that I had some of that on hand. Don’t judge me. Also I was cooking in a crock pot so I was already faking my way through.

So I quick seared the meat in the oven in the morning, put it in the pot with all the pre-cut, pre-weighed, pre-selected stuff. And then I left for like 9 hours with driving time included. Now, I don’t know about you, but my crock pot has two settings. They aren’t even low and high, they are just dots on the surface. I went for number two and hoped. The only problem turned out be that the meat slid from the bones like... oh... I am trying to come up with a metaphor that doesn’t ring as just total filth. Point is, there was no shape or form left to these to be plated, so I did what I could with what was left. This is why the plating is so bad. Harsh language would have caused these little guys to fall apart. Then I made some gravy and potatoes and we were all set. You will noticed mashed potatoes and not rice as the recipe says. Screw you The New Complete Book of Cookery, your title is upside down on your spine and I’m playing Calvinball!

Also, I am aware the plating looks ugly because brown meat on a brown plate is less than appealing. I am doing something about the brown plates. You’ll soon see.

All the Books: Recipe #3 – Gazpacho Soup

So I have a copy of a rather large cookbook called The Soup Bible, and again I believe it to be an amalgam of other cookbooks that have been gangbanged into existence by smashing multiple cook books into each other, Large Hadron Collider style, and then excising everything not soup. As a result of such thins, we are going to have the occasional error, like a DNA molecule that hangs on and still causes us to have an appendix long after the usefulness has gone. Like an appendix, sometimes the whole thing gets infected, and then swells, and explodes, and kills you. Errors occur, things lurk, horrors exist in racial memory like the understanding of weird gods the world forgot. I don’t blame Consulting Editor Anne Sheasby for the recipe, only for its continued inclusion.

I’ve used The Ultimate Soup Bible before, and have made gazpacho a fair number of times, so I know both of those things are good. It’s this one recipe, actually it’s down to one step. After I had cut the ingredients down to small pieces and deposited them into the container, the crazy bastard who wrote this recipe (credited as A. Alhazred) then required it be dumped into a blender or food processor and then blended until “well combined but still chunky” and at that point it basically became a nameless horror from beyond the void. The colors were off, the texture and flavors were off, it became a bowl of fail. Had I simply stepped away from the precipice, had I only looked into the abyss and not let the abyss look into me, had I but resisted the madness. But no, when they came for the bowl of gazpacho, I said nothing because I was not a bowl of gazpacho. Syd said it tasted fine, and maybe it did, but you can’t prove it by me. She agreed that it was wrong, but she ate it anyway, because she is beyond concepts like good and evil.

I cannot express the level that blending the mixture turned what could have been a good soup into a horror show. Even pop music couldn’t save us. I haven’t done a lot of editing on these photos, the pale looking mess is not a result of bad photography. Do not adjust your set, the soup controls the horizontal, the avocados control the vertical. Yeah. There is also something about avocado salsa, but we’re not even going to talk about THAT walking nightmare. I have not yet mastered the art of picking an avocado, ‘nuff said. So go ahead and skip this one, maybe go for one of the other 399 recipes the book boasts. Of course, at this point, who can tell if one of those others isn’t also an eldrich horror? This, my dears, my darlings, is why faith still exists.

Do not let an error dissuade you from experimentation my friends. A single dark demon from the dungeon dimensions is not the end of the world. Do not despair my lovelies! Let not one set back hold you down. It’s not over! Nothings over until WE say it’s over! Was it over when the marshmallows had been undercooked and I was left with nothing but a mess of green goo that tried to eat a child? NO! Was it over when the two turduckens just wouldn’t cook through? NO! Was it over when... oh hell I don’t even know. There have been a lot of errors in the past. This time though, the error was in following the recipe and not my heart. The idea was to follow the instructions though... and that failed us. Okay, let’s go full Calvinball!

I had to bribe Pitching Wizard into the photo through the use promise of booze.

Mask

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Twenty-Five: Epilogue

Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Twenty-Five

Epilogue

 

 

April 14^th, 2003

1:31 p.m.

 

            It looked like an island in the sky, like some perfect version of Laputa. The dark rock, which made the bottom, was smooth to the touch and looked like the sort of stones one used to get in Warner Brothers cartoons. This was a rock that Wiley Coyote would look desolately into as it came ever closer to obliterating his afternoon.

 

            Above the yellowish stone was still the field, and the brook of cool clean water coming from no source and flowing towards no pond. It simply started at one end and ran through to the other end. The grass here was actually green a lush emerald, and it as tall and verdant. There were small white butterflies, which fluttered lazily through the soft air, going about their affairs. One might almost think that this was merely a patch of one reality that had been temporarily displaced into our reality. One might think anything though, so perhaps a more definite statement should come.

 

            The Weirdo and Lucifer walked through it, standing near a tree where the grass grew a little shorter. They looked at a hill, which The Weirdo had made when this place had been built. It had grown up around him, as an idea of perfection.

 

            “You know how wrong it would be to build anything here?” Lucifer asked.

 

            “No.” The Weirdo said. “You have to make something.”

 

            “Do I?”

 

            “Yes.” The Weirdo said. “Those fields always seemed to me to be too open to the elements.”

 

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Twenty-Four: The Forces of Evil are Victorious (Do not forsake me oh my darling)

Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Forces of Evil are Victorious

(Do not forsake me oh my darling)

 

 

April 14th, 2003

11:45 a.m.

 

            They writhed on the floor, shaking as Lilith walked towards a second stairway. This stone walk way led up to the roof, where the ritual began. They were unmoving for some time, though few have a capacity to tell how long. The pain was unendurable, yet it never seemed to break them. It seemed to hold them at the very edge of their endurance, to keep them in pain for as long as possible.

 

            On another floor, Aphrodite was trying to crawl away as another shock of pain wracked her body. Eoster had somehow managed to get out of the scope of influence and watched as Aphrodite and the gray man shuddered and writhed on the floor. Her hand went to her mouth to hold back a scream as they lay trying to scream. That was the worst part, after a few early cries, they simply made croaking noises.

 

            She couldn’t endure watching any longer and something from her belly made her move. Later she wondered if it was the child inside her that made her move, and had protected her. Tears were pouring down her face she hadn’t noticed that she was sobbing until this moment. She turned and began to run down the hall, trying to figure out what to do, and bumped into an answer.

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Twenty-Three: Lilith’s Check Mate

Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lilith’s Check Mate

 

 

April 14th, 2003

7:54 a.m.

 

            Max was lost in a dream, looking for something that had become lost. He couldn’t remember what it was, or even what it looked like, but he kept looking anyway. He was looking around the whole house and finally came to the front door. He touched the handle and was surprised to find it warm; the knob was usually so cold. He opened the door and found that now the door opened into a wild-west town. It wasn’t a real wild-west town; it actually looked like the Spanish plains.

 

            He felt something in his hands and fell to his knees to examine them. They were twins, perfectly weighted for his hands. They were a pair of Samuel Colt’s patented peacemakers, forty-five caliber double action revolvers. He knew them, he knew these pistols because they were his pistols. They were made of silver, but had tarnished badly over the last hundred years since the death of the last one who owned them.

 

            “Someone who just got the job might want to clean those up.” He heard the gray man say. “Would impress the new bosses.”

 

            “Someone who wanted to impress the new bosses wouldn’t have been given the job.” Max found himself saying.

 

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Twenty-Two: The Plan

Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

The Plan

 

April 11^th, 2003

4:01 p.m.

 

            Charon had been the ferryman for a very long time, since the creation of the post actually. The obols had been his idea, so that he could by himself a few things now and then. He had never been greedy about it, and had often let nice people who didn’t have a coin on the boat from time to time. He had been so successful and the world had become so populated he’d been able to expand, and was now the leader of a fleet of ten. He hadn’t ever really given credence to the rumors of an end. They’d been talking about an end to everything, well since the beginning really. Now though, it was looking like it could all end. Everything could be taken away, in just a moment, just like that. He looked at the two men who he was now ferrying across the river to what he’d always referred to as the live side. He listened to what they were saying and it worried him.

 

            “How many?” The one in gray asked.

 

            “Maybe one hundred thousand.” The one all in blue answered. “Maybe five, I’m not sure. It’s like cattle, every time we’d pass a group, a few would stick. Some times we’d pass by and there’s be no one left when we were gone. They’ve been waiting for someone to lead them out of there, some of them have been waiting a long time.”

 

            “Now tell me the other part.” The gray coated one said.

 

            “Other part?”

 

            “The part that’s worrying you Tommy.”

 

            Charon lifted his staff from the water, bits of the Styx dribbling over his weather beaten hands. They had done this for ages, the water dribbling over the rod and across his hands. That was how his immortal hands had become so weather-beaten. He looked at the dark water as he pushed the long rod back down into it. People thought he operated on a river within Tartus, at least some people did. Either that or they thought Styx was inside Tartus. He’d always been amazed at how stupid mortals were, they would argue that their not supposed to be here, that he wasn’t supposed to be here, that none of this was real. These two didn’t even seem to care, they seemed to just accept all of it, or ignore it.

 

            “They’re not soldiers Weirdo.”

 

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Twenty-One: Heroes

Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Twenty-One

Heroes

 

 

April 11^th, 2003

11:30 p.m.

 

The Other sat on the shore and looked at the white ocean before her. It was a foul smelling ocean, and it was an opaque white at that. The soft shore she sat on appeared to be made of some sort of soft wax. It smelled familiar though, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She touched the warm soft ground, which was a solid thing even if very soft.

 

            She wasn’t quite sure how she had gotten there, and she didn’t know where there was actually. She looked at the sky and around her at the waxy shore. She looked down at her bleeding hand and everything just came down on her at once. Had they thought they could win? She was lost and no one would ever find her.

 

            The world was going to end, and there was nothing anyone could ever do about it. If Lilith could invade the house, what else could she do? She might be able to break all the rules and stop The Weirdo dead in his tracks. She had believed in The Weirdo but he was going into the places where no one had ever returned. It would not be inconceivable that he would never return. She was lost, and there was no one left to come get her, they would all be killed and then the world would end.

 

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Twenty: The Best Laid Plans

Note: The point isn't really for you guys to read a chapter everyday. That would be crazy, these chapters are about 30 pages long. This is just an info-dump situation, collect them all and read at your leisure.


This is basically an un-edited version of this book. There will be typos. There will be your/you're errors, because I'm dyslexic as hell. Why am I posting it? I've more or less come to the conclusion that some major things needed to change, so I'm changing them. However, I like the old version and I already gave you Twins In Death in the old form, so have this one too. It doesn't matter, the books are being re-written, so enjoy.


Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Twenty

The Best Laid Plans

 

April 15^th, 2003

9:41 a.m.

 

            “You brought a news paper.” The Weirdo said.

 

            “Yeah.” Tommy said, nodding.

 

            “I guess I shouldn’t even ask why you might think of such a thing.”

 

            “I thought you might have to take some time doing some of the things in your plan.” Tommy said. “Like getting past the door.”

 

            “And you were going to read a week old newspaper in the intervening time?”

 

            “Yeah.”

 

            “You would.”

 

            “Yes.” Tommy agreed. “Yes I would.”

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Nineteen: A Storm on Olympus

Note: The point isn't really for you guys to read a chapter everyday. That would be crazy, these chapters are about 30 pages long. This is just an info-dump situation, collect them all and read at your leisure.


This is basically an un-edited version of this book. There will be typos. There will be your/you're errors, because I'm dyslexic as hell. Why am I posting it? I've more or less come to the conclusion that some major things needed to change, so I'm changing them. However, I like the old version and I already gave you Twins In Death in the old form, so have this one too. It doesn't matter, the books are being re-written, so enjoy.


Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Nineteen

A Storm on Olympus

 

 

April 14^th, 2003

5:21 p.m.

 

            The Weirdo walked into a small reading room, looking for his laptop and saw The Other sitting with a teenaged girl. She might have been twelve, possibly thirteen. He looked at the two and The Other looked up and smiled brightly at him. The dark haired girl looked familiar but he couldn’t place her.

 

            “Hi Weirdo.” The Other said.

 

            “Hello Weirdo.” The Girl said.

 

            “Hi.” He said back. “Have we met?”

 

            “I’m The Other.” The Other said, never looking up from the book the two shared. “We have been introduced.”

 

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Eighteen: It’s a Birth

Note: The point isn't really for you guys to read a chapter everyday. That would be crazy, these chapters are about 30 pages long. This is just an info-dump situation, collect them all and read at your leisure.


This is basically an un-edited version of this book. There will be typos. There will be your/you're errors, because I'm dyslexic as hell. Why am I posting it? I've more or less come to the conclusion that some major things needed to change, so I'm changing them. However, I like the old version and I already gave you Twins In Death in the old form, so have this one too. It doesn't matter, the books are being re-written, so enjoy.



Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Eighteen

It’s a Birth

 

April 14^th, 2003

1:37 p.m.

 

            The Weirdo was barbequing hamburgers and hot dogs when the Assitanians returned. He had made the hamburger himself, by grinding his own sirloin. The hotdogs had come from a pack and he explained that this should warn people off them enough. There were also hot dogs and a chicken as well; The Weirdo was determined to have a good old-fashioned barbeque. He and Tommy shared most the cooking, being the American Dad types. Lucifer had offered to try his hand at a steak or two and cooked them in a way most of them were unfamiliar with. He blew on the coals until they were hot and free of ash, and then set the steaks directly on the coals. He turned them after a few minuets and though it took some doing, Kestrel final volunteered and declared it the best way to cook a steak ever.

 

            Cydrill arrived with Azgana in tow, she was very noble and kind. She was out of her depth, that much was clear, but she made the most of it. She shook hands and called The Weirdo her nephew, which was nice. She had time to say hello to everyone, but The Other shied away at first.

 

            “What’s wrong?” Kestrel asked as The Other hid behind her legs.

 

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Seventeen: The Fever

Note: The point isn't really for you guys to read a chapter everyday. That would be crazy, these chapters are about 30 pages long. This is just an info-dump situation, collect them all and read at your leisure.


This is basically an un-edited version of this book. There will be typos. There will be your/you're errors, because I'm dyslexic as hell. Why am I posting it? I've more or less come to the conclusion that some major things needed to change, so I'm changing them. However, I like the old version and I already gave you Twins In Death in the old form, so have this one too. It doesn't matter, the books are being re-written, so enjoy.



Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Seventeen

The Fever

 

 

April 12^th, 2003

2:21 p.m.

 

            “Can it be done?” Lilith asked.

 

            “Yes.” Chandelroth said, looking at the large book before him.

 

            “This isn’t really the sort of thing we should be doing Lilith.” Peach said.

 

            “Peach.” Lilith said calmly. “This is exactly the sort of thing we should be doing.”

 

            “I can perform the right in two days time.” Chandelroth said. “Ten minuets before midnight on the fourteenth.”

 

            “What do you need?” Lilith asked.

 

            “We already have everything.” Chandelroth said. “All we need to do is wait.”

 

            “Wonderful.”

 

           

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Sixteen: The Coin Drop Duel

Note: The point isn't really for you guys to read a chapter everyday. That would be crazy, these chapters are about 30 pages long. This is just an info-dump situation, collect them all and read at your leisure.


This is basically an un-edited version of this book. There will be typos. There will be your/you're errors, because I'm dyslexic as hell. Why am I posting it? I've more or less come to the conclusion that some major things needed to change, so I'm changing them. However, I like the old version and I already gave you Twins In Death in the old form, so have this one too. It doesn't matter, the books are being re-written, so enjoy.



Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Sixteen

The Coin Drop Duel

 

 

April 11^th, 2003

7:01 a.m.

 

            “So pretty.” The Other said running her hands across the Leviathan’s scales.

 

            It had turned out that the massive serpent wasn’t so much a snake as it was a very long lizard. It had fore and back legs, which were tucked under it at the moment. It was also reveled to the group that The Leviathan was actually a she, not an it. She was also proving to be a very tolerant she, as The Other climbed around her face and ran her fingers over the amazingly soft scales. She had expected them to be hard, but they were soft, smooth and firm.

 

            There was a long mane of hair that stared at the back of the horns and ran most of the way down the back of the pale blue creature. There were silvery flecks in the scales that shimmered in the sun’s light, which made her look like a new stream of water. She stretched along the front lawn, basking in the early sun.

 

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Fifteen: When we last left our heroes…

Note: The point isn't really for you guys to read a chapter everyday. That would be crazy, these chapters are about 30 pages long. This is just an info-dump situation, collect them all and read at your leisure.


This is basically an un-edited version of this book. There will be typos. There will be your/you're errors, because I'm dyslexic as hell. Why am I posting it? I've more or less come to the conclusion that some major things needed to change, so I'm changing them. However, I like the old version and I already gave you Twins In Death in the old form, so have this one too. It doesn't matter, the books are being re-written, so enjoy.


Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Fifteen

When we last left our heroes…

 

 

April 10^th, 2003

12:18 p.m.

 

They waited, as all sound died away, for their end to come. The world held the perfect, tense silence and then it happened. The Weirdo had been expecting a bit of pain, maybe the sound of wood splintering or bone shattering. What he had not expected, in any reasonable way, was a guitar riff. That is to say a very small part of him was squeezing its eyes shut very, very tightly and wishing to the blue fairy that there might please, please, please be a guitar riff. Some might question the validity of wishing to the blue fairy for salvation. These neigh sayers claim that the blue fairy is not responsive. They even have gone so far to claim that the blue fairy didn’t exist. The little part of The Weirdo didn’t care though, it wished anyway.  It had closed its little eyes and had its hands next to its head in little fists near its ears and wished so hard to the blue fairy that the entire universe might hear its plight.

 

The Blue fairy is a lot more responsive than people think. Or, to be more accurate and less politically correct, the Blue Strait guy is the responsive one.

 

The sound of the guitar was so loud that it veritably ripped across the sky. Some one was playing the loudest guitar opening they could find. This happened to be a Queen song and it happened to be the opening riff of One Vision, and it became apparent with the roar of an engine and the crackle of a pair of machine guns who it was.

 

“Fuck you! You fair haired sons of bitches!” Tommy’s voice managed to make itself  heard as the midnight sedan sailed across the grass.

 

Now anyone else, might have leaned out the window and held an Uzi or something and gun down the enemy, its easier and a lot safer. Not our boy Tommy though. Nope. None of this safety shit for him. No, following an ancient set of rules, Tommy did it in style. He was wearing his royal blue suit, of course, with his hat and coat that matched. He was caring not just one, but two of John Thompson’s finest trench brooms. One in each hand. He was also standing on the hood of the car, as it flew across the grass, leaning into the wind. He looked for all the world like the devil’s own version of the famous Rolls Royce hood ornament.

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Fourteen: The Joust

Note: The point isn't really for you guys to read a chapter everyday. That would be crazy, these chapters are about 30 pages long. This is just an info-dump situation, collect them all and read at your leisure.


This is basically an un-edited version of this book. There will be typos. There will be your/you're errors, because I'm dyslexic as hell. Why am I posting it? I've more or less come to the conclusion that some major things needed to change, so I'm changing them. However, I like the old version and I already gave you Twins In Death in the old form, so have this one too. It doesn't matter, the books are being re-written, so enjoy.



Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Fourteen

The Joust

 

April 7^th, 2003

2:21 p.m.

 

            The Weirdo had pointed Tanteroy in the right direction, climbing he had something to do. Tanteroy had made it to The Weirdo’s house and was as we speak, explaining the idea.

 

            “It may not even work.”  Tanteroy said.

 

            “You think this place could be an opening thought?” Cydrill asked.

 

            “I do.”

 

            “How long would it take?” Kestrel asked.

 

            “Three, maybe four days to organize a fighting force of any size.” Tanteroy said.

 

            “If this portal even works.” Cassimano said. “I know you want to find out what happened to your dad Tant, but come on, he’s dead. We should concentrate on what Chandelroth is doing. I mean if he’s here, then he’s going to come either to us, which is unlikely or go to the other side of the equation.”

 

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Thirteen: A Reason to Stay

Note: The point isn't really for you guys to read a chapter everyday. That would be crazy, these chapters are about 30 pages long. This is just an info-dump situation, collect them all and read at your leisure.


This is basically an un-edited version of this book. There will be typos. There will be your/you're errors, because I'm dyslexic as hell. Why am I posting it? I've more or less come to the conclusion that some major things needed to change, so I'm changing them. However, I like the old version and I already gave you Twins In Death in the old form, so have this one too. It doesn't matter, the books are being re-written, so enjoy.


Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Thirteen

A Reason to Stay

 

April 6^th, 2003

11:41 p.m.

 

            If we were to look at the George Washington Bridge, we would see that John Uniton had driven his motorcycle to the middle of that bridge and sat himself down. He’d been on the bridge for sometime actually, and been doing quite badly. He’d been conducting an experiment that would never have occurred to him if Marla and the kids were still around.

 

            Jack had to admit this; the Kentucky whisky was better than the Irish. He had consumed quite a lot of each, and had carefully compared the two. He had drunk four bottles of each and even with his unusual constitution was pretty well gone by now. He had compared carefully and as loathed as he was to deny loyalty to his home islands he had to admit which was better. The whisky made in Kentucky was just this side of superior to that made in the Irish workshops.

 

Brothers & Sisters – Chapter Twelve: Perfect Peace

Note: The point isn’t really for you guys to read a chapter every day. That would be crazy, these chapters are about 30 pages long. This is just an info-dump situation, collect them all and read at your leisure.

This is basically an un-edited version of this book. There will be typos. There will be your/you're errors, because I'm dyslexic as hell. Why am I posting it? I've more or less come to the conclusion that some major things needed to change, so I'm changing them. However, I like the old version and I already gave you Twins In Death in the old form, so have this one too. It doesn't matter, the books are being re-written, so enjoy.



Brothers & Sisters
A Tale of The Weirdo
By Brett N. Lashuay

Chapter Twelve

Perfect Peace

 

April 6^th, 2003

8:24 a.m.

 

            The Temple of Athena was, at one time, the greatest single piece of architecture in the world. The temple grounds are laid out in a perfect dance of geometric precision, so that you can see the most of each building when you walk through the arches. The temple proper is a majestically made building, with magnificent columns. The problem was it was magnificent about two and a half thousand years ago. It currently looks like a broken down piece of Greek ruin. Much of the place has been half inched, the stones stolen to become new building materials.

 

            Aphrodite looked at the temple and winced, her own temples had all faded away long ago. She had once been more popular than the daughter of her most powerful nephew, and now was nearly forgotten. Her name wasn’t even as well remembered as that Italian tart the Roman’s set up in her place. She was at least glad that no one had named a planet after her. She didn’t think she could stand the idea of being a huge bloated gas covered over heated whore of a planet.

 

Trying Syd's Book Experiment

Last January, Syd decided that while she has read many, many books, there were large gaps in her reading history. She hasn’t actually read that many classics, beyond those associated with the Sci-Fi and Fantasy genres. So she read Dracula, The Maltese Falcon, Pride & Prejudice and so on. It was an attempt to step outside of her comfort zone and see what else is out in the greater world of books.

Well, it’s harder for me to step outside my own comfort zone, because I’ve at least made a valiant attempt at a wider spectrum of books. However, I’ve got a few lined up. The first thing is going to be Jack Kerouac’s On The Road. It has also been suggested that if I don’t read Silverlock pretty damn soon, my father will kick me in the ass.

So that's going to be the first two. I will make a serious attempt at at least one book a month, and if I read two then the second doesn't count. This means I can't read four books in January and then skip until May. I will have to come up with 10 more books though. As I understand Syd's Rules: The books have to be classic enough that someone teaches them somewhere. They have to be books I've either never read or never actually finished when I was assigned them in school. I'm adding in the rule that it can't be a sequel to a book I've read before. So it wouldn't be any good me reading book seven of a series where I've already read books one through six.

Since I've never actually read any Kerouac, his road book should make a good first entry. I'll let you know a few days after New Year's...

I Will Judge How Ever I Like

Here are some arguments about books that I am frankly tired of having.

Idiot: You can't judge a book by its cover!
Me: There are six thousand titles in this particular book store, not counting the three odd hundred monthly magazines that they stock. As I am not inclined to read the back of EVERY(!) SINGLE(!) BOOK(!), or look up a review of EVERY(!) SINGLE(!) BOOK(!) quite often the only thing I have to go by is what is on the cover. I only have so much time on this Earth, and I only have so much reading space within that time. You will forgive me, if I make certain judgments based upon the covers.

It may not be a final and immutable judgment, but all you said in your asinine and half understood repetition of an annoying cliché was that I was not allowed to make a judgment. You didn't add and conditions to the idiotic cliché, you just spewed it. You made it a blanket statement, and that makes you and idiot.

I am maintaining that it is impossible for me to do anything other than that. It is impossible not to judge, because our brains do it automatically. If you're going to talk idiotically, I am going to treat you like an idiot. So here we have my answer... Yes, I can, I just did.

Moron: You can't apply your modern views to a book from XX32!
Me: Because you have a full and complete contextual understanding of the 14th century while allows you to fully and completely judge The Canterbury Tales based on the morals and society of the time when it was written? Do you also fully and completely understand 5th century BC Greece? Because if not, how do you read Herodotus? Ignore the fact, for a moment, that anyone who answers "Yes" to either of those questions is a liar because people who have spent their entire lives studying those periods have told me they don't really understand what it was like. I have only one culture and live in only one time period.

I can only reflect upon any book I read, the morals and cultural understanding of my culture onto any book I read. Even if I know enough to understand that my culture is different from this one I'm reading about, any and all interpretations are going to come from my understanding of the world I live in. Anything else would be borrowed understanding, taking another person's interpretation and trying to make it my own through osmosis. That is fundamentally a dishonest interpretation, because it would not be MY understanding, but allowing another person to understand for me. That may be useful to some extent, but it also means that any understanding I have will be colored by the prejudices and misunderstandings that person built their interpretation upon. This means that someone who doesn't want Sherlock Holmes to be gay, or Dracula to be a story about the dangers of foreign investment, or thinks the Oz stories shouldn't be allegory for American economic society can either ignore or deliberately misinterpret the signs that are there. Likewise, someone who does want those things can ignore the parts that say that TOTALLY isn't what's going on or deliberately misinterpret parts to shape the book to their views.

And in that, even studying other books of the time, I can find justifications for some things. Books where gay men were closeted, had the gay man in question acting very much like Bertie Wooster. Drug addicts, even in books written at the time, DO act like Sméagol behaves in Lord of The Rings. And Fagin is a child molester from the mold of banned and illegally sold books of the era. These are things you can take from BOOKS OF THE TIME!

To put it more succinctly... Yes, I can, I just did.

Complete Asshole: You can't not like a book because you don't like the *Story *Characters *Writing Style *Greater Message *Racism *Constant Rape Scenes *Cut Of The Writers Jib You have to like the book because of the *Story *Characters *Writing Style *Greater Message *Racism *Constant Rape Scenes *Cut Of The Writers Jib

Me: Fuck! You! I have been told that I am not allowed to dislike books for all of these reasons, and that I am required (evidently by law) to keep reading a book I don't like because of some other quality. Well, no, fuck you and fuck your momma! If I have turned against a book, and am not enjoying it, there are roughly a million billion other books I can read. Why must I read it because you have chosen to forgive something? It's horse shit like that that leads to people either not reading, or not talking to you about what they read or saying to me "Don't be friends with that prolapsed asshole of a fuck-faced hipster shithead. All they ever do is tell you what a moron you are for not reading books on their approved list of books." That, by the way, is a direct quote from someone to me about a person who turned out to be a prolapsed asshole of a fuck-faced hipster shithead who told lots of people they were morons for not reading books from his approved list of books. Eventually (seventeen minutes late) I had enough of him and never talked to him again.

You like Harry Potter? Read Harry Potter. I think it's a terrible group of books, but I really won't think you're a moron for liking it. You like Twilight? Read Twilight. Again, from what I know it's a horrifying series and not because of the vampires, but far be it for me to tell you not to read something. You like Ender's Game? It's okay, Orson Scott Card probably wouldn't recognize the guy who wrote that book if he met him in the street. You don't have to consider everything he's done and said since if you don't want to. You like old Regency romance novels? Go ahead and read them in an empire dress while fingering your oddly curled hair.

You have a perfect right to like whatever book you like on whatever terms you have decided to like it. You also have a perfect right to dislike something for whatever reason you've decided to turn against it. Someone can say "Let me persuade you otherwise" and then try some reasoning, but anyone who says you're stupid or less worthy for liking something is an asshole and you have my permission to stop talking to them.

Anyone who tries to use the entertainment you consume as a tool for judgment about you is kind of an asshole anyway. Even if they decide you're okay because you also enjoy sitting in a theater to listen to someone sit in a chair and read excerpts from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas in a squeaky voice. I wouldn't hang out with that person, if they're only prepared to accept your society under those terms.

May I introduce to you...

I've been talking to someone the last few days, and we've gotten into talking about books. It has sort of occurred to me that I have read a great number of series. When not a series, a strong and explicit character, someone really memorable is often featured. So here are some people, who you should be introduced to.


They're not in any order, BTW, just laying out there as they landed.

Nick and Nora Charles

Sean Dillon - Formerly of the IRA

Nero Wolfe and his man Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday Archie Goodwin.

Bilbo Baggins - Of Bag End, Hobbiton

Dorothy Gale

Bertram Wilberforce Wooster and his valet Reginald Jeeves

Spenser (no first name given), Susan Silverman, Hawk and Pearl the Wonderdog

Peter Parker

Alice (possibly Liddell)

Philip Marlowe

Raoul Duke (Dr of Journalism) & Dr. Gonzo (esq)

Samuel Spade

Elric (formerly of Melniboné)

Bruce Wayne

Rincewind



Now, one must note, I am speaking of books here. The movies and TV shows that might also ensue will be another grouping later. There are just the people you should get to know book wise, and I feel like this is merely a sample.