Read The Eye of Argon by Jim Theis Free Online
Book Title: The Eye of Argon|
The author of the book: Jim Theis
Edition: Wildside Press
Date of issue: April 17th 2007
Loaded: 2077 times
Reader ratings: 7.6
ISBN 13: 9780809562619
Format files: PDF
The size of the: 25.67 MB
City - Country: No data
Read full description of the books:
That story went over like... like... like a story that doesn't go over very well. And it's contagiously hilarious! It bit me, for crissake! Someone, put me out of my misery, quick! NB! I started reading it knowing just what it is and it didn't disappoint. If anything, it overdelivered and overdelivered and went on ovedelivering on so many levels, I can't even count them all... It's so bad it can and should be used for laugh therapy sessions for geeks (just like yours truly).
Ultra, ULTRA, U L T R A freaking awesomely weird! Basically, this is a legend of a horrible novel. A masterpiece of botched literature. A veritable Hurrigane of Euphemisms, if one ever existed, I shit you not!
Jim Theis is "a malaprop genius, a McGonagall of prose with an eerie gift for choosing the wrong word and then misapplying it. (c) David Langford
Why 5 stars? I don't think this wasn't written on purpose. And if it wasn't - the author is a genius nevertheless. THAT takes some balls and brains and paper and a really wild thesaurus. LONG LEAVE THEIS!
So, rating composition:
+ 100 stars for the satire and cheek!
- 100 stars for everything that went wrong with this book (which is pretty much everything unimaginable and unnameable! I'm not even starting the list, it has no chance to fit in here!)
+5 stars for making me laugh and being the absolute winner in any and every category of the Books of the Nightmare!
Original Text: The Eye of Argon
A wild thesaurus has definitely rampaged through the text. (c)
Enjoy the excerpts (there is lots more where these came from!):
His trust found him with a dagger thrust his ribs," the wench stated whimsicoracally. (c)
Above his head rose the hideous idol, its empty socket holding the shaman's ifurbished infuriated gaze.
His eyes turned to a stoney glaze with the realization of the pillage and blasphemy. Due to his high succeptibility following the siezure, the priest was transformed into a raving maniac bent soley upon reaking vengeance. With lips curled and quivering, a crust of foam dripping from them, the acolyte drew a long, wicked looking jewel hilted scimitar from his silver girdle and fled through the aperature in the ceiling uttering a faintly perceptible ceremonial jibberish. (c)
They slew the guard placed over me and abducted me to the chamber in which you chanced to come upon the scozsctic sacrifice. Their hell-spawned cult demands a sacrifice once every three moons upon its full journey through the heavens. (c)
The prince would surely have submitted them to the most ghastly of tortures if he had ever discovered their unfaithfulness to Sargon, his bastard diety. (c)
"Mrifk! I thought I had killed the last of those dogs;" muttered Grignr in a half apathetic state.
"Nay Grignr. You doubtless grew careless while giving vent to your lusts. But let us not tarry any long lest we over tax the fates. The paths leading to freedom will soon be barred.
The wretch's crys must certainly have attracted unwanted attention," the wench mused.
"By what direction shall we pursue our flight?"
"Up that stair and down the corridor a short distance is the concealed enterance to a tunnel seldom used by others than the prince, and known to few others save the palace's royalty. It is used mainly by the prince when he wishes to take leave of the palace in secret. It is not always in the Prince's best interests to leave his chateau in public view. Even while under heavy guard he is often assaulted by hurtling stones and rotting fruits. The commoners have little love for him." lectured the nerelady!
"It is amazing that they would ever have left a pig like him become their ruler. I should imagine that his people would rise up and crucify him like the dog he is."
"Alas, Grignr, it is not as simple as all that. His soldiers are well paid by him. (c)
After spilling a spout of blood from the leader of the mercenaries as he dismembered one of the officer's arms, he retreated to his mount to make his way towards Gorzom, rumoured to contain hoards of plunder, and many young wenches for any man who has the backbone to wrest them away. (c)
"Thou hast need to occupy your time, barbarian",questioned the female? ...
The engrossed titan ignored the queries of the inquisitive female, pulling her towards him and crushing her sagging nipples to his yearning chest. Without struggle she gave in, winding her soft arms around the harshly bronzedhide of Grignr corded shoulder blades, as his calloused hands caressed her firm protruding busts.
"You make love well wench," Admitted Grignr as he reached for the vessel of potent wine his charge had been quaffing. (c)
A flying foot caught the mug Grignr had taken hold of, sending its blood red contents sloshing over a flickering crescent; leashing tongues of bright orange flame to the foot trodden floor.
"Remove yourself Sirrah, the wench belongs to me;" Blabbered a drunken soldier, too far consumed by the influences of his virile brew to take note of the superior size of his adversary.
Grignr lithly bounded from the startled female, his face lit up to an ashen red ferocity, and eyes locked in a searing feral blaze toward the swaying soldier.
"To hell with you, braggard!" Bellowed the angered Ecordian, as he hefted his finely honed broad sword. (c)
The eyeballs glare turned to a sudden plea of mercy, a plea for the whole of humanity. Then the blob began to quiver with violent convulsions; the eyeball shattered into a thousand tiny fragments and evaporated in a curling wisp of scarlet mist. The very ground below the thing began to vibrate and swallow it up with a belch.
The thing was gone forever. All that remained was a dark red blotch upon the face of the earth, blotching things up. Shaking his head, his shaggy mane to clear the jumbled fragments of his mind, Grignr tossed the limp female over his shoulder. Mounting one of the disgruntled mares, and leading the other; the weary, scarred barbarian trooted slowly off into the horizon to become a tiny pinpoint in a filtered filed of swirling blue mists, leaving the Nobles, soldiers and peasants to replace the missing monarch. Long leave the king!!! (c)
PS. It's supposedly fanfiction on some or other fantasy (Conan-barbarian style) allegedly written by a 16-year old boy, There's another version of it: that this was a winner of a college contest on which of the students would write the most horrible novelette with most of the don'ts done.
Basically it's a novelette, interspersed with the horriblest of the impossible word and world choices, lots of typos, crazy syntax and weirdest pretty much everything about it. It's so horrible it's almost endearing. :) And one absolutely can't read it without cracking up! :)
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Read information about the authorJames F. Theis (pronounced "Tice") was born August 9, 1953 and died March 26, 2002. He published The Eye of Argon in a fanzine in 1970 at age 16. He did not write any more fiction, but did gain a degree in journalism. His hobbies included collecting books, comics, and German swords; he also collected, traded, and sold tapes of radio programs of the 1930s, '40s, and '50s under the business-name "The Phantom of Radio Past", advertising in such publications as the Fandom Directory.
In an interview with Theis on 8 March 1984 on Hour 25, a talk show on KPFK, the presenters of which would periodically stage a reading of The Eye of Argon, Theis stated that he was hurt that his story was being mocked and said he would never write anything again. In a later interview he complains about being mocked for something he had written thirty years ago, at age sixteen. He is said to have participated in readings of the story in St Louis, e.g. at Archon. A copy of the 1995 reprinting was sent to him, with no response.
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