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Simon Christiansen

@simonchris.bsky.social

Interactive fiction writer. Normal fiction writer. Poet. Contact Juggler. Author of PataNoir, Death off the Cuff and AlethiCorp. He/him. #dkgame. https://sichris.azurewebsites.net/

790 Posts1365 Follower609 Folgt
g0m@g0m.bsky.social · 17h ago

A world where a twist ending is repurposed as a video title. where a thing's climax has been removed, leaving an advertisment for the gap where it used to be. such things are commonplace in. the twilight zone

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Jeff VanderMeer@jeffvandermeer.bsky.social · 3d ago

Let's talk about a book series NOT getting attention that is among the finest of the decade: James Elkins' Five Strange Languages, the latest of which is Stories, Like Illnesses-- just released to resounding silence. Prior 2 novels are among my favorites ever and the new one so far is as good 1/?

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Simon Christiansen@simonchris.bsky.social · last wk.

Reminder that the first attempt to give Boba Fett a personality and backstory - Star Wars: Tales of the Bounty Hunters - made him a middle-aged straight edge nerd who lectures people on how spice is a gateway drug.

Fett reached up, as though to take off his helmet—saw them watching him with plain anticipation. Another of the armor’s benefits; taking the helmet off became an act of theater. He paused with his hand on the base of his helmet, and relaxed. “I wanted to ask you a question.” The hand dropped slightly. “Does your conscience ever bother you?” Voors stared at him. “Are you serious? Over spice?” “Does it ever bother your conscience,” Fett said again, in the voice that always sounded so harsh when he spoke Basic, “trafficking in spice?” Voors said a little hesitantly, “It’s not even addictive. And there are valid medical uses for it—” The bodyguard nearest Fett blinked, shook his head and blinked again. “Substances that are not addictive,” said Fett, “frequently lead to the misuse of substances that are. Doesn’t that bother you?” Voors took a deep breath and exploded. “No, it doesn’t bother me! My conscience is just—” His mouth shut … and then opened again, as though he intended to continue speaking.She scrambled to her feet and backed up into a corner of the room, breathing heavily. Fett imagined she had fought with the guards as they brought her down to him. “You touch me—” Her voice failed her, and she stood there, shivering, and finally said, “Touch me and one of us is going to die.” He lowered the rifle slowly, and looked around the room. He had few enough possessions here with him in the palace; everything he owned, which was little enough, was aboard the Slave I. Finally he pointed at the thin sheet that covered the bed. “Cover yourself. I’m not going to touch you.” Organa moved slightly to the side, leaned over and grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around herself and the brief costume Jabba had allowed her, and backed up again into the corner of the room that left her farthest away from Fett. “You’re not?” Fett shook his head. He sat down in the corner facing hers, moving carefully, and propped his rifle across his knees. He had to move carefully; his knees had been getting worse in recent years. “Sex between those not married,” said Fett, “is immoral.” “Yeah,” said Organa. “So’s rape.” Fett nodded. “So is rape.” He sat in what was, for him, a comfortable silence, watching her. She settled down in the opposite corner, being careful of her covering; Fett approved of her modesty, but it did not prevent him from continuing to look at her. He had never so much as held a woman in his arms, Boba Fett, and the desire for a woman came to him less frequently, with the passage of the years; but in Fett’s mind his chastity made him no less a man, and she was worth looking at, still flushed from her struggles, with her dark hair cascading down over the pale sheet.Now she did look at him. “You remind me of Han Solo, a little. He didn’t believe—” Fett heard his voice rise dangerously. “I am nothing like Solo and don’t you compare me to him.” Leia took a slow, deep breath. “Okay. Why does that offend you so?” Fett leaned forward again. “Do you know what that man has done in his life? Never mind the loyal citizens of the Empire that he, and you, have killed during your Rebellion; war is war and perhaps you, at least, think you are fighting for Justice. But Solo? He’s a brave man, yes; he’s also a mercenary who’s never done a decent thing in his life, who’s never done a difficult thing that somebody wasn’t paying him for. He’s smuggled banned substances—” “He ran spice!” Fett found himself on his feet and yelling. “Spice is illegal! It’s a euphoric, it alters moods, and the use of it leads to the use of worse substances, and a man who will run spice,” he snarled, “will run anything!” He stood tense and motionless, holding his rifle in a quivering grip, staring down at Leia. “And if I had been using spice tonight, Leia Organa, perhaps you would not be safe with me in this room.”Malloc stared at him. “That crap I drank on Tatooine? That wasn’t Merenzane Gold, you idiot, they don’t serve Merenzane Gold in bars like that, they just pour it out of bottles that once, eons ago, were looked at hard by a man who heard of Merenzane! Don’t you know anything about liquor?” he asked in despair. “Haven’t you a single civilized vice?” Fett shook his head. “No. I do not drink, nor indulge in other drugs. They are an insult to the flesh.” “So you Hunted me down because you thought I was drinking Merenzane Gold, all those years on Tatooine. Fett, I had one glass of real Gold the entire time I was on that miserable excuse for a world.”
Simon Christiansen@simonchris.bsky.social · last wk.

Reminder that the first attempt to give Boba Fett a personality and backstory - Star Wars: Tales of the Bounty Hunters - made him a middle-aged straight edge nerd who lectures people on how spice is a gateway drug.

Fett reached up, as though to take off his helmet—saw them watching him with plain anticipation. Another of the armor’s benefits; taking the helmet off became an act of theater. He paused with his hand on the base of his helmet, and relaxed. “I wanted to ask you a question.” The hand dropped slightly. “Does your conscience ever bother you?” Voors stared at him. “Are you serious? Over spice?” “Does it ever bother your conscience,” Fett said again, in the voice that always sounded so harsh when he spoke Basic, “trafficking in spice?” Voors said a little hesitantly, “It’s not even addictive. And there are valid medical uses for it—” The bodyguard nearest Fett blinked, shook his head and blinked again. “Substances that are not addictive,” said Fett, “frequently lead to the misuse of substances that are. Doesn’t that bother you?” Voors took a deep breath and exploded. “No, it doesn’t bother me! My conscience is just—” His mouth shut … and then opened again, as though he intended to continue speaking.She scrambled to her feet and backed up into a corner of the room, breathing heavily. Fett imagined she had fought with the guards as they brought her down to him. “You touch me—” Her voice failed her, and she stood there, shivering, and finally said, “Touch me and one of us is going to die.” He lowered the rifle slowly, and looked around the room. He had few enough possessions here with him in the palace; everything he owned, which was little enough, was aboard the Slave I. Finally he pointed at the thin sheet that covered the bed. “Cover yourself. I’m not going to touch you.” Organa moved slightly to the side, leaned over and grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around herself and the brief costume Jabba had allowed her, and backed up again into the corner of the room that left her farthest away from Fett. “You’re not?” Fett shook his head. He sat down in the corner facing hers, moving carefully, and propped his rifle across his knees. He had to move carefully; his knees had been getting worse in recent years. “Sex between those not married,” said Fett, “is immoral.” “Yeah,” said Organa. “So’s rape.” Fett nodded. “So is rape.” He sat in what was, for him, a comfortable silence, watching her. She settled down in the opposite corner, being careful of her covering; Fett approved of her modesty, but it did not prevent him from continuing to look at her. He had never so much as held a woman in his arms, Boba Fett, and the desire for a woman came to him less frequently, with the passage of the years; but in Fett’s mind his chastity made him no less a man, and she was worth looking at, still flushed from her struggles, with her dark hair cascading down over the pale sheet.Now she did look at him. “You remind me of Han Solo, a little. He didn’t believe—” Fett heard his voice rise dangerously. “I am nothing like Solo and don’t you compare me to him.” Leia took a slow, deep breath. “Okay. Why does that offend you so?” Fett leaned forward again. “Do you know what that man has done in his life? Never mind the loyal citizens of the Empire that he, and you, have killed during your Rebellion; war is war and perhaps you, at least, think you are fighting for Justice. But Solo? He’s a brave man, yes; he’s also a mercenary who’s never done a decent thing in his life, who’s never done a difficult thing that somebody wasn’t paying him for. He’s smuggled banned substances—” “He ran spice!” Fett found himself on his feet and yelling. “Spice is illegal! It’s a euphoric, it alters moods, and the use of it leads to the use of worse substances, and a man who will run spice,” he snarled, “will run anything!” He stood tense and motionless, holding his rifle in a quivering grip, staring down at Leia. “And if I had been using spice tonight, Leia Organa, perhaps you would not be safe with me in this room.”Malloc stared at him. “That crap I drank on Tatooine? That wasn’t Merenzane Gold, you idiot, they don’t serve Merenzane Gold in bars like that, they just pour it out of bottles that once, eons ago, were looked at hard by a man who heard of Merenzane! Don’t you know anything about liquor?” he asked in despair. “Haven’t you a single civilized vice?” Fett shook his head. “No. I do not drink, nor indulge in other drugs. They are an insult to the flesh.” “So you Hunted me down because you thought I was drinking Merenzane Gold, all those years on Tatooine. Fett, I had one glass of real Gold the entire time I was on that miserable excuse for a world.”
merritt@merrittk.com · 2w ago

you HAVE to get on board with beanie babies. beanie babies are going to leave you behind. you must devote your time to studying all the new beanie babies and how it impacts yuor life. also theyre alive and im in love with iggy the iguana

Brendel@brendelbored.bsky.social · 2w ago

Those later Milla Jovovich movies were so bad they were almost Dadaist art. Suddenly 40 Milla Jovovich clones will be there and a man in sunglasses says “this is the beginning of the end…of the new beginning” and a dog will be eating spaghetti. It was like Inland Empire with the rabbits.