Daily Illuminator

July 29, 2008: Lost Works Of Genius, 5 Cents Each

Steven Marsh and I get into the darndest discussions on the PyraMOO. I really wish I'd saved the one that started out with a grumble about facile investment advice, and segued to his very keen analysis of whether it was better to call Superman or the Batman after you had fallen out a window. After which we debated which of the two would give better investment advice. (Not the Batman. Sure, he's rich, but he inherited it. And if he really were a good investor, he'd be putting at least some of the money to work in Gotham City, and we know he's not, because almost every business we see there is abandoned.)

But I digress.

Saturday night we started with a perfectly serious discussion of an industry issue. I pointed out something that would have made the story even more tragic. And suddenly SMarsh was possessed by his muse . . .

SMarsh . o O ( Something can always be made more tragic with the addition of
 more blood. )
SJ [to SMarsh]: Not a blood bank!
SMarsh says, " 'The donors kept coming, and the volunteers kept accepting the
 life-giving humour.  Soon, the coolers were over-full, and the sacks of human
 blood littered the hallways.  Hundreds of nurses slipped on the sacks,
 spewing red arterial spray on the walls, the popping of bags serving as the
 soul-sickening aural counterpoint to the snapping of human necks.' "
You say, "Ohhh, NICE."
You say, "Then, drawn by the sick-sweet coppery tang, the first vampire bat
 appeared. Soon the bloody halls were covered by a shifting carpet of leathery
 wings. All too soon, the spilled bounty vanished down the needle-rimmed maws
 of the chiropteran horrors. The corpses, too, were drained, lissome limbs
 withering quickly to husks. Beady eyes locked on the survivors, crouching,
 horrified, in corners . . ."
You say, "Bob was there too!"
SMarsh says, "See?  There is nothing so hopeful, so joyous, so reaffirming
 that it cannot be dragged into the pits, the futile echoing pleas drowned out
 by the coming of endless vampire bats."
SMarsh says, "And, on that cheery note, I'm going to bed!"

I like working with this guy.
-- Steve Jackson

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