Evil Monkey:
Did you see that Christopher Priest threw his feces all over the Arthur C. Clarke Award?!?

Jeff:
Yes. Don’t bother me. I’m working.

Evil Monkey:
No, no. You have to respond. You have to blog something.

Jeff:
I’M WORKING, GODDAMN YOU, MONKEY!

Evil Monkey:
I’m not leaving until we talk about this!

Jeff:
I KEEL YOU WITH MY MIND BULLETS!

Evil Monkey:
I SNUFF OUT YOUR MIND BULLETS WITH MAH BUTT MISSILES!

Jeff:
I give up. But what’s to talk about? I don’t completely disagree with Priest on a general level about always striving for better, always analyzing awards processes and our own writing…but there’s little discourse to be had here directly, because he poisoned the waters by dissing his panel-mate Billingham, dismissing Tepper with “it’s about horses, man, and horses ain’t cool in my book” and calling for the judging panel to be disbanded. His Stross comment also seemed too personal. If he had merely stated his opinion of the nominated books, of which I have read only China’s, then it would be different, I think…But also, as someone who has a leg in the mainstream and in genre, it’s hard to muster up much energy one way or the other. Newsflash: Mediocre books make awards ballots all the time. I think the only mistake is to set your watch by them.

Evil Monkey:
And then Damien G. Walter set out a psychological profile of Priest! Priest is just a twisted Gollum gone insane from getting sooooo close to the Ring but never possessing it!

(more…)

Jeff:
What do you call someone who defends territory the size of a postage stamp?

Evil Monkey:
A mouse? No! A flea!

Jeff:
What about someone who attacks to acquire territory that size?

Evil Monkey:
Another mouse! No, a flea!

Jeff:
Maybe it looks large to them.

Evil Monkey:
A postage stamp is pretty important to a letter.

Jeff:
A letter is sent to one person.

Evil Monkey:
Not these days.

(more…)

Evil Monkey:
I think it’s so cool there’s a new TV series with dragons!

Jeff:
They. Are. Not. Dragons. Like I told you, they are dinosaurs.

Evil Monkey:
I do think it’s sad the dragons don’t have wings. It’s poignant. Wingless dragons.

Jeff:
Right. Dinosaurs. DINO-SAURS, Evil.

Evil Monkey:
And it’s such a great premise. Going back in time to get a do-over, because in this future we’re pretty much fucked. I was planning on learning to imitate a cockroach or a bacteria to survive the coming eco-pocalypse.

Jeff:
Yes, it’s a pretty fairy tale. With pre-fab housing in the past.

Evil Monkey:
It’s wonderful! I’m already arranging to be cryogenically frozen so I can be revived in 2050 and go back to the past–with dragons!

Jeff:
Dinosaurs…which brings up an interesting point. Why didn’t they write the show so they go back to the time period of edible friendly fluffy mammals…rather than dinosaurs?

Evil Monkey:
You’re so cynical.

(more…)

Evil Monkey:
“There will be blood“, Jeff. There will be blood.

Jeff:
There will be blood, Evil Monkey. There will be blood.

Evil Monkey:
It might not be your blood. It might not be today. It might not be tomorrow. It might be yesterday. But there will be blood.

Jeff:
I’m pretty sure it will be your blood—and it will be today.

Evil Monkey:
I’d much prefer it be your blood. Much, much more than my blood. But: there will be blood!

Jeff:
Blood there will be.

Evil Monkey:
Will be blood, there.

Jeff:
There. Blood. Be will.

Evil Monkey:
Blood. There.

Jeff:
Blood will.

Evil Monkey:
Do you have a will?

Jeff:
No. I have blood.

Evil Monkey:
You should have a will.

Jeff:
Why?

Evil Monkey:
There will be blood!

Jeff:
But it will be your blood.

Evil Monkey:
My blood isn’t your blood type so if there is blood and it is your blood, I will not be able to save you with my blood.

Jeff:
If it is your blood and I have a chance to save you with my blood, I will save my blood for a time when there will be blood and it will be my blood.

Evil Monkey:
Keep your blood, knave. Keep your goddamn effing blood.

Jeff:
I will, sir. I will keep my goddamn effing blood. Do you know why?

Evil Monkey:
Because it is your blood and not mine and it may be that there will be blood one day…and it will be yours?

Jeff:
No. Because in 40 years there will be no electricity, we will be sharpening sticks for swords, and any electronic book will have disappeared magically…like magic.

Evil Monkey:
Signed “the curmudgeon”…in blood.

Jeff:
Your blood.

I’m in full-on inspiration mode on the writing book, so no time to blog today…so instead, a repost of the last Evil Monkey, and, for the first time, a question for the audience: What would you like to see Evil and alt-Jeff talk about next? You can post your reply anonymously. I don’t care.

(more…)

(Like this image by Todd Vandemark? For liking it, you owe it to me to buy this.)

(Leah Thomas sent me this, after I questioned whether a bear hat she’d mentioned was plush or real. The offending word I crossed out for this version.)

(Jeremy Zerfoss sent in this one because he’s nutso.)

Evil Monkey:
How was your birthday?

Jeff:
Good! I worked hard, I wrote, I played hard. I observed internet kerfuffle with wry amusement and horror, as usual. Ann bought me a nice dinner and got me a thoughtful gift. We watched House.

Evil Monkey:
I was out getting naked in bars.

Jeff:
Glad I missed that.

Evil Monkey:
I’m starting a new ideology.

Jeff:
Based on what tenets?

Evil Monkey:
Everyone is evil. Everyone is a monkey.

Jeff:
Even aarkvarks?

Evil Monkey:
Even aarkvarks.

Jeff:
Don’t do it, dude. Ideologies are toxic.

Evil Monkey:
No they’re not—they’re the life’s blood of social change.

Jeff:
Until they go rogue.

Evil Monkey:
You live under the constraints of a rogue ideology—capitalism.

Jeff:
Capitalism is like the morphine of ideologies. You’re going to become so addicted you’re going to die, but everything will be so fuzzy around the edges you’ll almost enjoy it, if you’re selfish enough.

Evil Monkey:
Like a cocoon protecting you from the irrational insanity of your brain.

Jeff:
Um, not exactly. Okay, maybe that’s it exactly.

Evil Monkey:
My ideology will be pure, though. It’ll only do good. It’s been created to do good.

(more…)

Jeff:
You’ve re-read A Feast for Crows (A Song of Ice and Fire, Book 4)by George R.R. Martin, too, haven’t you?

Evil Monkey:
Yes. No way am I scaling the mountain that is A Dance with Dragons: A Song of Ice and Fire: Book Fivewithout reminding my brain of prior context.

Jeff:
What did ya think?

Evil Monkey:
What did you think?

Jeff:
On count of three, we both shout out what we thought…One…Two…Three!

Jeff/Evil Monkey (simultaneously):
CORPSEY CORPSEY STABBY BLEAK STABBY CORPSEY GROSS HORRIFYING CORPSEY CORPSEY

(more…)

Evil Monkey:
I hate you.

Jeff:
I don’t hate you. I love you.

Evil Monkey:
Hate me. Hate my stench. Hate my feces on the wall.

Jeff:
I hate the cat’s throw-up more. But I’m curious. What else do you hate?

Evil Monkey:
I hate the bitter inner lining of walnut shells. I hate the smell of socks in the summer when the rain hits dead leaves. I hate people hating on Margaret Atwood. I hate when you complain about needing bifocals and being deaf in one ear. I hate V.S. Naipaul. I hate people who hate complex writing styles. I hate the New Emo Left. I hate idiots.

(more…)

For those of you who might have missed it, our bountiful state of Florida has in its infinite wisdom seen the ascension to power of Emperor Rick Scott. Scott is Florida’s first emperor and has already issued such decrees of intent as “regulations? what regulations” and “agencies? what agencies?” as well as “fired? you’re not fired—I need you for two more months, and then you may leave my Presence.”

Most of these pronouncements have taken the form of Bulls***s rather than Holy Bulls as the Emperor has been sanctified and ordained by another source entirely, one south of even Florida, if you look at the depth charts.

It’s hot down here, but it’s about to get even hotter.

All Hail Emperor Rick Scott!

Sincerely,
Evil Monkey

P.S. Please remember when saying the name of His Excellency: His first name begins with a not-so-silent “P”.