As A Warning, There Will Be Absolutely No Context For The Following Statement

Bwa ha ha ha ha ha hah! Oh dear oh dear oh dear. Life is funny sometimes.

24 Comments on “As A Warning, There Will Be Absolutely No Context For The Following Statement”

  1. As a warning, there will be absolutely no context for the context of the following statement:

    Every once it a while, it feels good to realize the benefits of not living on a gas giant planet. Life, for instance.

  2. You can’t do that! Laughing maniacally without giving us context is just plain unfair. I’m sure you’ll come back with a childish rant that this is your site, and that’s all well and good, but I reserve the right to pout. :)

    I guess I can let my imagination run wild though.

    Your electric sheep lover called you in the middle of the night to tell you that just as you stopped trying to produce offspring, she found out she was pregnant and you’ll literally be the official father of the first AI hybrid quadruped?

    I don’t know what else could be so damn funny.

    I need to go back to bed.

  3. NO MAN! life is COMPLETELY serious! People live and die everyday. People deal with love, jealousy, greed, honor, fear, and truth every second of every day. People live in the streets and in places where there is no way out. Life is the “Anti-Funny”.
    Now if you will please excuse me I have to go play Second Life. ;)
    Right after I get done playing with my Barbie’s.

  4. It’s like one of those ‘supply the story for this punchline’ contests.

    Possible causes of Scalzi’s merriment:

    1. Scalzi has just written the world’s longest fart joke.

    2. Scalzi’s cat has just ambushed him with a roll of packing tape and a half-pound of Armour’s finest sliced bacon.

    3. Robert Eggleton has just announced that he, too, is a writein candidate for SFWA president.

  5. Dean, I vote #2. He’ll only attempt #1 if some hack writes “The Electric Sheep’s Dream” with a two chapter opening fart joke.

  6. Let me guess, twins?

    Ok. Maybe I’m projecting. But the last time I laughed on the edge of sanity while chanting oh dear, oh dear, oh dear was when I found out I was having twins.

    So either that or the cat farted bacon bits.

  7. A context-less post deserves a non-sequitur comment: I’ll guess he just got home from a preview screening of The Last Mimzy. ‘Cause there’s no reaction to turning the classic story “Mimsy Were the Borogoves” by Lewis Padgett into what the TV commercial is calling a “delightful” example of “what family films should be,” better than “Oh dear. Life is funny sometimes.”

  8. Krissy was making a cake. The cat climbed onto the counter. The dog scared the cat. The cat tipped over the bowl of batter. The batter fell onto the dog’s head. The cat gave an evil hiss and scampered onto the top of the refrigerator (knocking over additional things).

    The dog looked embarrassed.

    That would have made me laugh.

  9. Nah, I’m looking at the time stamp for this post versus the sitting SFWA president’s post in Scalzi’s annoucement post and I’m confident that was it.

    Did anybody go to a Mimzy preview? I’m curious, I’ll give ’em that.

  10. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, for rizzle.

    If I wasn’t so damned concerned about Rome and watching the back episodes, I’d wonder what the hell you were on about.

    I’m sure we’ll know sooner or later.

  11. I did go to a mimzy preview and enjoyed it,thought I thought the ending a bit forced. I have never read any Lewis Padgett,and don’t really know very much about the story so YMMV>

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