@@@@@ @ @ @@@@@ @ @ @@@@@@@ @ @ @@@@@ @@@@@ @@@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @@@@@ @@@@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @@@@@ @ @ @ @ @@@@@ @@@@@ @@@ Mt. Holz Science Fiction Society Club Notice - 03/31/00 -- Vol. 18, No. 40 Chair/Librarian: Mark Leeper, 732-817-5619, mleeper@lucent.com Factotum: Evelyn Leeper, 732-332-6218, eleeper@lucent.com Distinguished Heinlein Apologist: Rob Mitchell, robmitchell@lucent.com HO Chair Emeritus: John Jetzt, jetzt@lucent.com HO Librarian Emeritus: Nick Sauer, njs@lucent.com Back issues at http://www.geocities.com/evelynleeper All material copyright by author unless otherwise noted. The Science Fiction Association of Bergen County meets on the second Saturday of every month in Upper Saddle River; call 201-447-3652 for details. The Denver Area Science Fiction Association meets 7:30 PM on the third Saturday of every month at Southwest State Bank, 1380 S. Federal Blvd. =================================================================== 1. I was at Boskone, a science fiction convention, a few weeks ago. Like many conventions they have there what is called a convention bid party. It is part of the competition of getting a World Science Fiction Convention in your city. If you would like a convention in your town you want to compete with other bid parties being run at the same time. What was odd was that to attract people to this party for an English convention they said they were going to have "cheese." I mean, so what? You can get cheese at any grocery. What kind of excitement is this for a bid partly? But we visited the party and to my amazement they actually had cheese. It was really cheese. I mean it was not processed cheese food; it was not cut into individually wrapped singles; it was not foil-wrapped wedges; it was not Velveeta; it was not low fat; it was not processed into strings; it was not grated; it was not somehow made into a smooth hard tasteless brick; it was not a powder on a corn chip; it wasn't mixed with oils; it wasn't baked into a cracker; it was not in an aerosol spray can; it wasn't in a squeeze bottle; it didn't come from a jar; it wasn't any kind of spread; it wasn't preserved in any way; it wasn't on a Doodle; it wasn't nacho cheese. It wasn't around, or inside, or mixed with a pretzel. It didn't have salmon, or nuts or peppers, or fruit mixed in. It wasn't a sweet cake. It was only one kind of cheese rather than a mixture like Jack cheese. It didn't go "crunch." It wasn't grilled or melted on a pizza. It was not in a nut covered party log or a ball. Nor was it a fondue dip; it was not part of a cheese dog or layered on a burger or a dip for corn chips. It wasn't melted over pastrami and sauerkraut or cauliflower or broccoli or macaroni or even a veal cutlet. No, what they had done was very cleverly taken a block of very rich, very sharp white cheddar and cut it into slices and served that at room temperature as if that was "cheese." This was in America, no less. It was this very sharp, very tasty stuff, and I remember a little bit comes off on your hands as you eat it (but it doesn't turn them yellow). I was reminded that in Robert Louis Stevenson's TREASURE ISLAND that when young Jim Hawkins found Ben Gunn who had been marooned on the island for many years, the first thing Ben thought to ask for was a piece of cheese. That probably sounds a lot stranger in America than it does in other parts of the world. I bet this rich cheddar is the kind of cheese he was thinking of. And he had been thinking of all those years on his island. But it was a really dumb thing for a convention committee to do. I mean they are not going to win over any convention voters by coming over here and making fun of our disabilities. I wonder if they are going to have a bid party at Lunacon? Okay, let me drop out of character for a moment. I know somebody will point out that high quality cheddar is available here. American rarely get it, but it is here. It is just a very small part of the market for things we call cheese. Sure, I like good Vermont cheddar. I rarely have it because it really is not a very healthy food. My point is that Americans think they love cheese. But how often do we accept something of far lower quality, usually no healthier. I had been away from real cheese for so long I had forgotten what poor substitutes had replaced so much of the real stuff in the marketplace. What wretched surrogates for cheese we have come to accept this century. And I am really talking about more than just cheese. Among other things I am talking about music. Go up and down the radio dial and listen to how unmelodic and jarring most music has become. So much beautiful music was written in the 19th century. But most is played only on an ever-diminishing number of classical stations on the radio. But I am not talking about just classical music. And in fact even classical music has become formless and lacking in melody this century. One has only to listen to popular music of the 19th century to realize how much of it really had melody. Play some music popular around the time of the Civil War, notably "Lorena," and to realize how much more the popular music had good melody then. "Lorena" is so sad and so moving that the Confederate army would not permit it to be played in camp for fear it would destroy morale and make the soldiers homesick. I think the music we get today is just a bit cheesy. [-mrl] =================================================================== 2. A CIVIL CAMPAIGN by Lois McMaster Bujold (Baen Books, 1999, 405pp, HC, $24.00, ISBN 0-671-57827-8) (a book review by Joe Karpierz): Every year or two a new Miles Vorkosigan novel comes out, and every time I review one I complain that Lois McMaster Bujold should write something else just so that she can prove that she CAN write something else. So, A CIVIL CAMPAIGN comes out, subtitled "A Comedy of Biology and Manners", and I think to myself, "here we go again". And of course, inevitably, just like *every other time*, I end up enjoying it. I hereby state that from now in, in public, I will not complain about Bujold writing only Vorkosigan novels. I will only complain to my wife and a few close friends. The rest of you will be told that the whole thing is really quite wonderful, and you should read them all, you should. The setting for this one take place during the weeks leading up to Emperor Gregor's wedding. Basically, the plot involves a bunch of characters that we know and love getting themselves into a romantic mess with their various significant others, as well as some political intrigue interwoven with butter bugs. Yes, butter bugs. You see, Miles has fallen in love with Ekaterin, the woman with whom he became involved in the novel Komarr. She has come to Barrayar to live with relatives, and Miles schemes to win her heart, only he screws it up. Meanwhile, Mark, Miles' clone, has come back to Barrayar with his love Kareen Koudelka. Only, well, that gets screwed up. And Ivan Vorpatril, well, he has designs on Lady Donna Vorrutyer, but, well, *she* screws that up. And, in and amongst it all, there's political intrigue, wedding preparations, and butter bugs. Yeah, butter bugs. This book is funny. I really enjoyed it. Yes, it had it's slow spots, but it's funny. Bujold continually shifts from one thing to the next, always interweaving the various threads just enough to make you want to find out what's happening in all of them at once. Of course, the main thread deals with Miles and Ekaterin, which involves both romance AND political intrigue, and when we finally arrive at the climactic scenes at the Council of Counts, I really found myself rooting for Miles and Ekaterin. And laughing my tail end off. I think you will too. [-jak] Mark Leeper HO 1K-644 732-817-5619 mleeper@lucent.com THIS PAGE INTENTIONALLY LEFT ALMOST BLANK