The process of becoming a Lyft driver and thus contributing to the destruction of civilization continues. Drove to San Francisco, met with my "Lyft Mentor," a very cheerful young lady whose cel phone cover matched her blouse; she clearly loves driving for Lyft, and signed me off (valid Driver's License, check; proof of insurance, check; car works, check). We even did a "test delivery" where she gave me an address to drive to. "Do you use Google Maps or -- ?" she began to ask, but stopped, awe-struck by the built-in GPS in my wonderful car. The GPS is named Navi, and sounds just like the character from Ocarina of Time
Next step is the criminal background check. If they miss the panda-smuggling, I'll be a Lyft driver in days!
In other news, I submitted my Hugo awards ballot last week just before the final deadline. Why was I voting for the Hugos after years of inaction on that front? Sad Puppies. Rabid Puppies. You can get a fairly good explanation here
If you're like me and too lazy to click through, point is, some right-wing nutcases felt that the Hugos were going to too many women and dark people and homos (sometimes all three in one writer!), so they "gamed" the system, and filled up most of the slots on the nomination ballot with work done by themselves and their allies. People were outraged, mud flew, and I thought, what the hell, I sent in 40 bucks to be a "supporting member" and vote on the final ballot. A lot of people did just that (around 1400), with the intention of stopping the Puppies nominees from getting any awards. But, hey, I thought, I'll be fair, and I'll read the nominated stories -- maybe they're good in spite of pleasing the teabaggers.
And now I'm angry.
Every one of the right-wing slate nominees stinks like a skunk poop cracker with Munster d'Alsace on it. On them. Each one in a different way. Which is worse, because if they'd all stunk in the same exact way I would have given up and imagined throwing my e-reader against the wall (I wouldn't really do that, it's my second e-reader, I sat on the first one). After 13 of the damn things (aliens who conquer earth but are taken in by a simple trick! ghosts who realize Jesus can still save them! sentient war machines who read their user manuals aloud to us!), I'd had enough, and only bothered with the first 8 pages of the last one, which has a sentient war machine reading its user manual aloud to us, but stopping long enough to let us know that a mob had broken into the United Planets capitol building and lynched all the do-nothing bureaucrats and this was A GOOD THING. I think I've done my due diligence.
I'm mad at the Puppies because they nominated crap, and I had to read it. Had
to. Lord knows there's lots of "conservative" SF & fantasy out there, and it often wins awards (Lois McMaster Bujold springs to mind, but of course she's a woman
), and these pups couldn't find anything of value. I have never voted for NO AWARD with such gleeful relish.
On the other hand, because of all this, I did read the Goblin Emperor
, which I might never have done without the froo-frah. I'm grateful for that -- it's a great book, it wasn't
on the Puppies shortlist, and I voted it first place among the novels; also nominated for Best Novel and also recommended is Ancillary Sword
, but read the first book in that series first. So, read those 2 novels, avoid the Hugo-nominated short fiction this year, and if you need a ride somewhere, I may be your guy!
After I clear the criminal background check.