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The second-closest book to me (under the bed, because I'd finished it the other night) yesterday was The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham. I read it on a lark for the Rocky Horror reference (I always wanted to know what the fuck a triffid actually was) and it was one of the better science-fiction books I've read recently.
Had it been the closest book to hand yesterday, you would have read, "But then the limits of folly itself--particularly of folly with fear on its heels--are not easy to define, either."
To forestall the obvious question, it's a plant that doesn't swallow. Unless the movie took extreme liberties with the text, the answer I learned years ago, and have been shouting for many years, is wrong.
To forestall the other obvious question, I also read City of the Chasch by Jack Vance the other night. I don't recommend it.
Had it been the closest book to hand yesterday, you would have read, "But then the limits of folly itself--particularly of folly with fear on its heels--are not easy to define, either."
To forestall the obvious question, it's a plant that doesn't swallow. Unless the movie took extreme liberties with the text, the answer I learned years ago, and have been shouting for many years, is wrong.
To forestall the other obvious question, I also read City of the Chasch by Jack Vance the other night. I don't recommend it.
no subject
....I'm supposed to be working on my database...
*sigh*
I'm totally scattered today.