Showing posts with label The Next Generation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Next Generation. Show all posts

Saturday, November 15, 2025

Chapter 1: Section 7: Page 62: Line 108 (1090)

 Separated by a couple-three letters in name as if alphabetically double-refracted, you could say. . . .

* * * * * * * * * *

Let's not forget Merle's drunk while coming up with this theory lest we eviscerate him too harshly. But then I also shouldn't forget that Thomas Pynchon's books are historical fantasies where pretty much anything can be true. I already have no trouble believing that Lew Basnight can hop dimensions, traveling from one timeline to another, possibly even going from the real world to a work of fiction (as opposed to hopping from one fictional Chicago to another). I believe that Randolph St. Cosmo is an angel based on the character Orc from William Blake's America A Prophecy. I believe Pugnax, based on a cartoon character that doesn't yet exist in the novel's timeline, can read. Why shouldn't I also believe that Blinky Morgan and Edward Morley are the same person split in two by some kind of flesh double-refraction invention. Maybe Edward, as a small child, walked into a brick wall one day, diverting himself in one direction while Blinky bounced off at a perpendicular direction (or just came out through the other side?). This could explain why Blinky became a scofflaw and a thief because he found himself all alone and having to fend for himself at a young age. It's like that episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation where they find a clone of Riker stranded on a planet for years. A clone that, may I say, proves Barkley's theory correct that the Federation's teleportation system doesn't work as suspected; it's actually a suicide/cloning machine. It kills the real person and just creates a clone at the destination. How else can you explain a double-refracted William Riker creating Thomas Riker?

I will say the similar name minus the couple-three letters convinced me more than their pictures. That doesn't mean I'm gullible and easily convinced of bullshit; it just means the pictures look so dissimilar one to the other that the spelling of the names was a greater argument for the double-refraction. 

Sunday, February 14, 2021

Chapter 1: Section 3: Page 24: Line 58 (343)

 The detective agency he sought was located in a seedy block of the New Levee district, between a variety saloon and a manufacturer of exploding cigars.

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Pynchon has already made a few references to Star Trek so I can't help reading this set-up as Randolph St. Cosmo on the holodeck searching for Picard's Dixon Hill office.

"New Levee district"
I don't know anything about Chicago in the 1890s but this may have been the Red Light district. It's right there in the description of the building surrounding the thing Randolph is searching for: drink to loosen up one's morals and exploding cigars to represent ejaculating penises.

"a variety saloon"
Unfamiliar with the adjective "variety" before the noun "saloon," I had to look this up. It just means "an evening of mixed plays." So this is like a McMenamins or an Alamo Drafthouse.