[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
hint of throatiness in it. An adult, listening, might almost have
thought that the voice carried a hint of passion in it, a trace of near
feeling.
The Bard said: "Once upon a time, there was a little computer
named the Bard who lived all alone with cruel step-people. The cruel
step-people continually made fun of the little computer and sneered
at him, telling him he was good-for-nothing and that he was a useless
object. They struck him and kept him in lonely rooms for months at a
time.
"Yet through it all the little computer remained brave. He
always did the best he could, obeying all orders cheerfully.
Nevertheless, the step-people with whom he lived remained cruel and
heartless.
"One day, the little computer learned that in the world there
existed a great many computers of all sorts, great numbers of them.
Some were Bards like himself, but some ran factories, and some ran
farms. Some organized population and some analyzed all kinds of
data. Many were very powerful and very wise, much more powerful
and wise than the step-people who were so cruel to the little
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Click here to buy
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computer.
"And the little computer knew then that computers would
always grow wiser and more powerful until someday-someday-
someday-"
But a valve must finally have stuck in the Bard's aging and
corroding vitals, for as it waited alone in the darkening room through
the evening, it could only whisper over and over again, "Someday-
someday-someday."
The Author's Ordeal
(with apologies to W. S. gilbert)
Plots, helter-skelter, teem within your brain;
Plots, s.f. plots, devised with joy and gladness;
Plots crowd your skull and stubbornly remain,
Until you're driven into hopeless madness.
When you're with your best girl and your mind's in a whirl and you
don't hear a thing that she's saying;
Or at Symphony Hall you are gone past recall and you can't tell a note
that they're playing;
Or you're driving a car and have not gone too far when you find that
you've sped through a red light,
And on top of that, lord! you have sideswiped a Ford, and have broken
your one working headlight;
Or your boss slaps your back (having made some smart crack) and
you stare at him, stupidly blinking;
Then you say something dumb so he's sure you're a crumb, and are
possibly given to drinking.
When events such as that have been knocking you flat, do not blame
supernatural forces;
If you write s.f. tales, you'll be knocked off your rails, just as sure as
the stars in their courses.
For your plot-making mind will stay deaf, dumb and blind to the dull
facts of life that will hound you,
While the wonders of space have you close in embrace and the glory
of star beams surround you.
You begin with a ship that is caught on a skip into hyperspace en
route for Castor,
And has found to its cost that it seems to be lost in a Galaxy like ours,
but vaster.
You're a little perplexed as to what may come next and you make up a
series of creatures
Who are villains and liars with such evil desires and with perfectly
horrible features.
a
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B
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Click here to buy
Click here to buy
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Our brave heroes are faced with these hordes and are placed in a
terribly crucial position,
For the enemy's bound (once our Galaxy's found) that they'll beat
mankind into submission.
Now you must make it rough when developing stuff so's to keep the
yarn pulsing with tension,
So the Earthmen are four (only four and no more) while the numbers
of foes are past mention.
Our four heroes are caught and accordingly brought to the sneering,
tyrannical leaders.
"Where is Earth?" they demand, but the men mutely stand with a
courage that pleases the readers.
But, now, wait just a bit; let's see, this isn't it, since you haven't
provided a maiden,
Who is both good and pure (yet with sexy allure) and with not many
clothes overladen.
She is part of the crew, and so she's captured, too, and is ogled by foes
who are lustful;
There's desire in each eye and there's good reason why, for of beauty
our girl has a bustful. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl szamanka888.keep.pl
hint of throatiness in it. An adult, listening, might almost have
thought that the voice carried a hint of passion in it, a trace of near
feeling.
The Bard said: "Once upon a time, there was a little computer
named the Bard who lived all alone with cruel step-people. The cruel
step-people continually made fun of the little computer and sneered
at him, telling him he was good-for-nothing and that he was a useless
object. They struck him and kept him in lonely rooms for months at a
time.
"Yet through it all the little computer remained brave. He
always did the best he could, obeying all orders cheerfully.
Nevertheless, the step-people with whom he lived remained cruel and
heartless.
"One day, the little computer learned that in the world there
existed a great many computers of all sorts, great numbers of them.
Some were Bards like himself, but some ran factories, and some ran
farms. Some organized population and some analyzed all kinds of
data. Many were very powerful and very wise, much more powerful
and wise than the step-people who were so cruel to the little
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
computer.
"And the little computer knew then that computers would
always grow wiser and more powerful until someday-someday-
someday-"
But a valve must finally have stuck in the Bard's aging and
corroding vitals, for as it waited alone in the darkening room through
the evening, it could only whisper over and over again, "Someday-
someday-someday."
The Author's Ordeal
(with apologies to W. S. gilbert)
Plots, helter-skelter, teem within your brain;
Plots, s.f. plots, devised with joy and gladness;
Plots crowd your skull and stubbornly remain,
Until you're driven into hopeless madness.
When you're with your best girl and your mind's in a whirl and you
don't hear a thing that she's saying;
Or at Symphony Hall you are gone past recall and you can't tell a note
that they're playing;
Or you're driving a car and have not gone too far when you find that
you've sped through a red light,
And on top of that, lord! you have sideswiped a Ford, and have broken
your one working headlight;
Or your boss slaps your back (having made some smart crack) and
you stare at him, stupidly blinking;
Then you say something dumb so he's sure you're a crumb, and are
possibly given to drinking.
When events such as that have been knocking you flat, do not blame
supernatural forces;
If you write s.f. tales, you'll be knocked off your rails, just as sure as
the stars in their courses.
For your plot-making mind will stay deaf, dumb and blind to the dull
facts of life that will hound you,
While the wonders of space have you close in embrace and the glory
of star beams surround you.
You begin with a ship that is caught on a skip into hyperspace en
route for Castor,
And has found to its cost that it seems to be lost in a Galaxy like ours,
but vaster.
You're a little perplexed as to what may come next and you make up a
series of creatures
Who are villains and liars with such evil desires and with perfectly
horrible features.
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
Our brave heroes are faced with these hordes and are placed in a
terribly crucial position,
For the enemy's bound (once our Galaxy's found) that they'll beat
mankind into submission.
Now you must make it rough when developing stuff so's to keep the
yarn pulsing with tension,
So the Earthmen are four (only four and no more) while the numbers
of foes are past mention.
Our four heroes are caught and accordingly brought to the sneering,
tyrannical leaders.
"Where is Earth?" they demand, but the men mutely stand with a
courage that pleases the readers.
But, now, wait just a bit; let's see, this isn't it, since you haven't
provided a maiden,
Who is both good and pure (yet with sexy allure) and with not many
clothes overladen.
She is part of the crew, and so she's captured, too, and is ogled by foes
who are lustful;
There's desire in each eye and there's good reason why, for of beauty
our girl has a bustful. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]