Denkverbot

kic wrote:
jes, ima na yt cijeli dokumentarac

ti?

kic wrote:
i ja approvam Marva, pogotovo ovaj na kraju Thompson s komentarom: mogli smo unovčiti muzej o njemu..

ono prvo ga izvozali, a onda bi ga još gulili poslije smrti

ali ovaj da, i ja imam neki hint da je Marv potajno imao želju da se cowboyski obračuna bez obzira na potencijalne easemente, i čak je dobio dobru lovu za plac, ali eto, nije bilo zadovoljštine u tome razumijem i to..

aben wrote:

kic wrote:
i ja approvam Marva, pogotovo ovaj na kraju Thompson s komentarom: mogli smo unovčiti muzej o njemu..

ono prvo ga izvozali, a onda bi ga još gulili poslije smrti

ali ovaj da, i ja imam neki hint da je Marv potajno imao želju da se cowboyski obračuna bez obzira na potencijalne easemente, i čak je dobio dobru lovu za plac, ali eto, nije bilo zadovoljštine u tome razumijem i to..

Ol boys će te sjebati, ali isto mi se svidjo merikunski nočin, kako oni održavaju town meetings. Sa zanje sun gljedo novog borata, kako se pretvara da je neki naprednjak, i na sastanku mologa gradića, nudi in gradnju džamije. I unda se ljudi binu, jel. Ne zun kolika je moć otih sastanaka, možda nikakova, ali puno bolje nego ovo ča mi imomo...

kic wrote:

aben wrote:

kic wrote:
i ja approvam Marva, pogotovo ovaj na kraju Thompson s komentarom: mogli smo unovčiti muzej o njemu..

ono prvo ga izvozali, a onda bi ga još gulili poslije smrti

ali ovaj da, i ja imam neki hint da je Marv potajno imao želju da se cowboyski obračuna bez obzira na potencijalne easemente, i čak je dobio dobru lovu za plac, ali eto, nije bilo zadovoljštine u tome razumijem i to..

Ol boys će te sjebati, ali isto mi se svidjo merikunski nočin, kako oni održavaju town meetings. Sa zanje sun gljedo novog borata, kako se pretvara da je neki naprednjak, i na sastanku mologa gradića, nudi in gradnju džamije. I unda se ljudi binu, jel. Ne zun kolika je moć otih sastanaka, možda nikakova, ali puno bolje nego ovo ča mi imomo...

rage with the machine vs ol boys

i meni se sviđa, puno asocijacija na Simpsone me podsjeća-

to je neko nasljeđe anglosaksonsko plemenskog odlučivanja rekao bih, bilo koji pripadnik plemena bi imao pravo izreći svoje mišljenje pred svima, mi na kontinentu smo zapeli u neku ideologiju delegiranja moći odlučivanja na stručnjake i vjećnike, pa se oni svađaju u naše ime-

kic wrote:

Isaac Asimov's preface to Sir Arthur C. Clarke's collection of stories, TALES FROM PLANET EARTH (Legend, 1989).

Arthur Charles Clarke (b. 1917) is, of all science fiction writers, the one who is most like me.
He would, of course, deny this hotly. He would point out – quite correctly – that he is more than two years older than I am, that he is much balder than I am, and that he is much less handsome than I am. But what of that? It is no disgrace to be ancient, bald and ugly.
Where the similarity comes in is that Arthur has had (like myself) a thoroughgoing scientific education, and he makes use of it to write what is called ‘hard science fiction.’ His style is something like mine, and we are often confused – at least our books are.
The first science fiction book that my dear wife, Janet, ever read was Arthur’s Childhood’s End; the second was my Foundation and Empire. Unable to remember which was which in very clear fashion, she ended up marrying me when I think she was after Arthur.
Here, however, is a collection of Arthur’s science fiction stories, science fiction dealing with science, extrapolated intelligently. How you will enjoy it!
I must tell you something about Arthur. We have known each other for some forty years and in all that time we have never stopped heaving loving insults at each other. (This is also true of Harlan Ellison and myself, and of Lester del Rey and myself.) It’s a form of male bonding. Women, I’m afraid, don’t understand this.
When two gentlemen of the lower–class persuasion meet each other (two cowboys, two truckdrivers) one is liable to hit the other a thwack on the shoulder and say, ‘How are you, you consarned varmint, you double–dealing son of a bitch.’ That is roughly the equivalent of saying, ‘Greetings, my friend, and how are you getting along?’
Well, Arthur and I do the same but, of course, in formal English to which we endeavor to introduce a soupçon of wit. Thus, last year a plane crashed in Iowa and roughly half the passengers were killed while half survived. It turned out that one of the survivors had kept calm during the perilous attempts to land by reading an Arthur C. Clarke novel and this was reported in a news article.
Arthur, as is his wont, promptly Xeroxed five million copies of the article and sent one to everyone he knew or ever heard of. I got one of them and at the bottom of the copy he sent to me, he wrote in his handwriting, ‘What a pity he didn’t read one of your novels. He would have slept through the whole wretched ordeal.’
It was the work of a moment to send Arthur a letter which said, ‘On the contrary, the reason he was reading your novel was that if the plane did crash, death would come as a blessed release.’
I recited this exchange of loving commentary at the World Science Fiction Convention held in Boston over the Labor Day weekend in 1989. One woman who reported on the convention heard the tale with shocked disapproval. I don’t know her, but I imagine her to be chemically free of any sense of humor and to know nothing of any form of male bonding – any form. In any case, my remark knocked her right out of her bloomers, and she spoke very disapprovingly of it in Locus.
Of course, I wouldn’t dream of allowing any ridiculous woman to get in the way of any loving exchanges Arthur and I might have, so I’ll end with another one. This time I’ll start it.
I am writing this introduction without charge out of sheer love for Arthur. He, of course, would never dream of returning the favor because he is a penny–pincher and doesn’t have my loving ability to place artistry and benevolence above sheer pelf.
There! I await, with a certain dread, Arthur’s answer.