In light of yesterday's entry I need to mention something interesting I stumbled across on the internet. Microsoft considers you to be a consumer while large companies like Dell, Sears and the like are considered customers.
Mr. Tenn your science fiction stories have become less about science fiction and more about family soap operas! What the hell happened to you?
Needless to say I have put the book down and unless I'm really bored or curious I won't be glancing at the unread stories any time soon.
Mr. Lovecraft, if I dare call him Grampa, was an autodidact who surpassed the academic accomplishments of John W. Campbell. The latter gentleman being the editor of Astounding is renowned for his achievements but I feel that I stand on firm ground with my declaration of Grampa's intelligence.
Lovecraft's death aside the most heartrending aspect of his life comes from living in crushing poverty. His aunts Annie and Lillian had a $5000 inheritance while Howard was bestowed with $2500 upon the death of his beloved grandfather Whipple Van Buren Phillips. Never able to hold down a job, receiving sporadic checks from publishers, contributing his work without pay to up and coming magazines and relying on revision work which infrequently paid him, H.P. Lovecraft managed to scrape by in life and budgeting himself for 30¢ meals every day. When he did look for work, when he was approached with offers to pubish his stories by mainstream companies he would always be self-effacing to a fault which would lose the opportunity perpetuating the cycle.
Joshi's biography isn't over yet because the final chapter or chapters are about Lovecraft's impact on popular culture and society.
Sometimes I just want to kick Lovecraft and other times I want to buy him a good dinner.
The Whisperer in Darkness has to be one of my favorite Lovecraft tales, close at the heels of The Shadow out of Time, and is the centerpiece of the anthology. There's a sequel of sorts called Documents in the Case of Elizabeth Akeley which is a surprising twist on the motives of the mi-go that charmed the ever-living pants off me. Haïta the Shepherd by Ambrose Bierce is a delightful parable. Robert W. Chambers shares the pages with H.P. Lovecraft with such tales as The Repairer of Reputations which features a fascinating alternate Republic of the United States of America at the turn of the 20th century and The King in Yellow telling the story of unrequited love between an artist and his model.
During the past week when I had my mp3 player on hand it would be playing selections of My Bloody Valentine's Loveless. While listening to Only Shallow I realized that this album may very well be my only "desert island" disc. I was enchanted back in 1993 when Marie Jamar's older brother shared it with me and when I recently ripped it I discovered it all over again.
What surprised me is that when I spelled "H" I used "H as in happy".
I was pleased with myself and it showed that I am making progress no matter how incremental or glacial by nature.
It dawned upon me that he really needed a good sale and with some thought I decided to help him. Among the items I purchased were crickets because according to the owner kittens love eating crickets. As I made for the exit I could see my sister coming towards the door with her high school friends in tow. Her friend Jane wasn't as pasty or fat as I recall from a decade ago. In fact she had gotten a tan and added some curves to the bulbous fat balloon she was back in the day. Liza was the same high-haired, Jersey girl which has become a national joke.
When they entered Jane took a look at me and whispered something to my sister. Woo confronted me asking if last time I was in the store that I had whipped it out and jerked off on Jane's shirt. My sister was seriously steamed and honestly I had no idea what Jane was talking about.
Later I went back to a large, three story home at night. I went downstairs into the basement and successfully clambered through a small entranceway leading to my dream friend's pad. The place was outrageously hot and I was relieved after being out in the cold but the heat became more oppressive. He discussed a giant pipe in the center of the room full of superheated steam. Instinctively I looked around for Spot to keep her from going near it and burning her wee paws.
