You are the struback.
Time for listening to the oracle is past; you’re beyond the stage for omens, you’re
now headed in for the kill, yours or his; superstition has had its little day for today;
from now on, only this windy nerve of yours, this shakey conglomeration of muscle
entangled untraceably beneath the sweat-shiny carapice of skin, this bloody little urge
to slay the dragon, is going to answer all your orisons.
Dropping the letter, she held her head in her hands, closing her eyes as in the curved
bone of her skull she heard all her possible courses of action jar together, future
lifelines that annihilated each other.
On his last mind into the Devonian, when this tragic illness was brewing, he had
intercourse with a young woman called Ann.
An invisible, subterranean gas can be supplied right to your house along with controls that let you control its delivery to your brain. Depending on the concentration, the result is to bring aspects of your previous consciousness (or that of your ancestors) right into your present-day brain: physical sensations, bodily abilities, mental attitudes, and the psychological make-up of the channeled person all take over your body, although you remain present. To me, this could be ancestral memory—perhaps passed down genetically and triggered by the newly discovered gas—but I’m going to list it as time travel.
Fifi could not understand what on earth he was talking about. Every since leaving
Plymouth, she had been adrift, and that not entirely metaphorically. It was bad enough
playing Pilgrim Mother to one of the Pilgrim Fathers, but she did not dig this New World
at all. It was now beyond her comprehension to understand that the vast resources of
modern technology were fouling up the whole time schedule of a planet.
You know, Joe, you are my first reader! A pity you don’t remember my book a little
better!
Swimming strongly on my way back to what the sage called the remote future, my form began
to flow and change according to time pressure. Sometimes my essence was like steam,
sometimes like a mountain.
Thunder. Distant sound.
Questions posed shake universes like constructs , like
universes, shake posed questions, sound distant thunder.
The film did a good job of bringing Brian Aldiss’s book’s premise to the screen, with a better pace than the book, but the short dream sequences were ineffective for me and Dr. Frankenstein is more of a clichéd villain than in the book.
Zero pollution, maximum ozone shield: Something tells me we’re not in New Los Angeles
any more.