i’ve been a semi-rabid fan of Frank Herbert’s Dune series for many years. actually, it’s probably fair to say that i’ve only been a true fan for the past 2-3 years since i finished all of the first six books. those other years in between having read the original Dune and the rest don’t count…
i don’t actually remember what it was that sparked me to read the final five books a few years ago…i guess i just felt a sense of incompleteness after having read the first book (and having watched the movie) several times. the first book stands as one of the greatest science fiction novels of the 20th century, independent of the rest…maybe i held off reading the others thinking that they could never reach the level that Herbert had set with his first Dune novel. i was wrong, of course. the series as a whole has more impact and is much more impressive; awe-inspiring, even.
and then he died. and there were no more books for many years. and then, all of a sudden, his son published a prequel…
i just got back from a great week of thanksgiving vacation with my lovely fiancee and her family. after walking in the door, i began the homecoming ritual in short order, so i could maximize my relaxation time prior to going back to the grind on monday. the ritual is pretty well established for me:
- drop luggage in staging area
- wander around house making sure everything looks ok
- check to see if any plants died
- go to (snail) mailbox and get stack of mail
- soak in the feeling of being home again (smile in the process)
- take empty luggage down to garage
- open refrigerator and look for biology experiments gone terribly wrong; dispose of anything hairy, black or slimy that shouldn’t be
- make shopping list and go to grocery store; come home and unpack groceries
- wake up computer
- check email
things went really well until i got to step 11. no plants died. the house didn’t burn down. unpacking was easy. the stack of mail wasn’t nearly as heinous as it could have been. yes, it was all smashing, right up until the moment when i stepped out of the real world and into my Inbox:
Inbox: (868 unread messages)
Random screening at SFO. Elaine got to walk through the GE entry gate 3000 and have her skirt blown up for national security.
the belly of the beast. it’s amazing anything works at all.
how often do you think this works?
had dinner tonight with a good friend at Esperpento in the mission. this photo was hanging in the hallway by the bathroom. tios translates as aunt and uncle. maybe that’s somebody’s uncle, although the guy in the back doesn’t really look like anyone’s aunt.