This is me, posting the first installment of the letters column—some final comments and responses on An Unclean Legacy!
I will not thank you for your kind words today. For the beneficence of my thanks, you must wait for the rest of the letters column! Today, you must go thankless.
That said, hey, y’all’re cool.
In terms of the promised bonus story, I am moved by your efforts thus far but as of yet I am not awed. Redouble your devotion! Send forth the radiant light of your spirits in a thousand benevolent wishes and actions dedicated to my name! Then, surely, not even the hardest-hearted Yama King could deny you. Not even the lowest worm! The force of your will would bend down even that great stone god that stands over the city of the singing people on the farthest star and make him subservient to it; no less would I be enchained to yield this gift!
Why was Yseult so determined to be evil?
The more comprehensive and restrictive a society’s morality, the easier it gets to confuse “not fitting in” with “evil.”
Montechristien eventually outgrows this misunderstanding. Yseult never has sufficient occasion to.
What happened to Cedric Saraman?
He went on to involve himself in a tragic story of gummi bears, corruption, and war.
Later, there was some Little House on the Prairie action—after all, someone had to deal with Laura Ingalls Wilder after she saw through the lie of the world and set herself, to coin a phrase, between cow and qlippoth.* Why not Cedric Saraman?
* I hope nobody coined this phrase first. That’d be embarrassing!
How did Yseult meet and marry Gargamel?
I assume it was one of those things where you look back later and laugh, like he spilled wine on her dress or she lay siege to his castle or something.
Were Montechristien and Baltasar from any noteable line of descent, other than what appears to have been a standard noble family, or were their magical talents an individual accomplishment?
If the Da Vinci Code is to be believed, they’re secret descendants of Jesus Christ, but I don’t hold much truck with that kind of thing. I mean, honestly, just compare:
The Lord Jesus Christ (visual reference)
Gargamel and Baltasar (visual reference)
They don’t look a thing alike!
Oh yeah, there was one more question since my list of questions. In the room in the castle with the blood gutter (presumably under the threshing machine?), when Manfred is getting up:
(quote about the stone floor cracking and a faint white light rising.)
What was that faint light about?
Something to do with the power system for the threshing machine, I suspect.
I wonder what happened to Gargamel’s evil cat Azrael? Probably wouldn’t have been a good fit for the series since his name is so over-powered.
I thought it would be cool to do something with that, but, yah, because of the name, it needed to be something important, and no good motivation + explanation ever came to mind. ^_^
Did Yseult abandon Rachel?
It would appear that she felt Montechristien would kill Rachel. Precisely to which extent this is true depends on history that has not properly been revealed.
Manfred is exceedingly well-mannered.
— Ford Dent
Power breeds propriety. Absolute power manners absolutely.
Manfred, here, is caught in the coruscating nimbus of politeness radiating backwards through time from that alternate future in which he enters the singularity of infinite propriety. It is a burning radiation that will leave him sore.
Is it wrong that, despite being interested in the resolution, I really do want to see How Elizabet Saved Mother’s Day?
It is in some respects an alternate title for Finale. ^_^
what action shot would Violet get?
Her older self is probably just glamour shots, while her action scene is as a kid, with the red and black light and the howling and the kids cowering and Violet walking to the door and going out.
I’m not sure how to make it visually cool, but I’m not a cinematographer.
Either good and evil are defined by the whim of the Supreme Being, in which case God might say “Thou shalt eat babies on Fridays” and lo! eating babies on Fridays would be Good!, or else good and evil are independent of the Supreme Being, and God is not in fact omnipotent.
— Metal Fatigue
This discussion was part of why, later in the month, the spirit moved me to articulate half of an extended meditation on the meaning of the statement “God is good.”
I’ll have to cover the other half sometime.
So I take it you’re a proponent of an inheritence tax, then?
Oh *man*, yes.
Not to comment on what lights may or may not have been in the sky over Siberia in 1905, but is it possible you’re mistaking the date of the June 30, 1908 “Tunguska Incident”?
No. It is not possible. I CANNOT BE MISTAKEN—
(at this point, the author is eaten by a singularity, which is why the letters column must be finished on another day. However, in the meantime, the narrator would like to note that Pope John Paul II was later to add three years to the Gregorian calendar—
in a fashion that worked something like a botox injection, only with the power of the Pope—
to facilitate the arrangement of certain historical events. This is why it is 2006 only in the Paulite calendar, while more traditional measures of the year would have it as 2003 or even 12.19.12.)