One of the most interesting, yet very briefly discussed, differences between the inhabitants born on Toussaint and those whose ancestry traces far back on New Half-Way Tree is the concept of a higher power, the god-figure. The humans have Granny-Nanny while the douens have Father Bois.

So, I was watching "The Last Angel of History" tonight, and at one point, turntables are mentioned, and earlier today, Walter Kitundu came to my digital art class, and told us about and showed pictured of a ton of different instruments he has made out of turn tables that are played like string instruments, or drums, or by various forces of nature. For me, the concept of taking something so very far beyond its intended/expected/conceived of use really resonated with aspects of the movie. Also, cool sound art.

Though somewhat of a periphery character, Juanita is arguably one of the most powerful characters in Stephenson's "Snow Crash." While most of the people who were working for Lagos are in the project for their physical power, like Ng's security and the Mafia's muscle, Juanita is in the project because of her mind, and she is the only one who looks at Lagos' goals and makes her own larger, personal goals in the project.

Looking for resources for the bibliography, I tripped across a variety of interesting essays on Nicola Griffith's website in which she discusses science fiction as a genre, her books, her life, and gender in writing.

One of the most striking elements in Nicola Griffith's Slow River is the use of cameras. Throughout the text, the picture seen by the camera somehow shows a raw truth, and is able to catch characters at their most vulnerable moments, and with Lore, somehow seems to draw out her vulnerability.

So. There is a comic, bohemian drive, which looks at the solar system after the last human has died (peacefully) and robots inhabit the nine planets, various moons, and asteroids. The structure of the pages within the site is a bit odd, don't expect it to update anytime soon, but it's only 75 episodes, so finite procrastination, and it's an interesting society that is created. Also interesting commentary on humanity.

K, first off, "Bloodchild" = creepy and not to be read right before going to bed, especially if one is particularly phobic about personal invasion by insects to begin with. Personal nausea aside, though, the contrast between assimilating a species into one's own, and using the Other as purely breeding ground is fascinating. "Bloodchild" made "Lilith's Brood" sit far more easily with me.

Ooloi--when I first saw the word, it looked very familiar, but I've never read anything by Butler before, and poking around on the web, she's the only one who's meant to use the word.

In the Lilith's Brood trilogy, "Imago" is the first time we get a first person narration. It's the voice of an ooloi, and therefore one of the most foreign to us in the world of the book. This functions on several different levels. It serves the utilitarian function of decreasing the number of "it"s in the text, making syntax more understandable overall. But it also sets up a very interesting self-and-other construct, removing it from the societal and making it far more individual.

(This started out as a reply to two separate posts, but got rather long and wandered off a bit on its own argument, so I'm posting it independently, but referencing the posts that inspired parts of it where applicable.)

In reply to CZ and his assertion that the Oankali are definitely alien in his comment to roseblack's post --I'm not going to argue that there is a direct correlation between every aspect of the Oankali and humans. Lacking my own tentacled ooloi, I'd be a bit hard pressed. I will, however, argue that there are many parallels to be drawn between them and us, particularly pertaining to gender. That is, if I can be trusted to not be apparently inherently manipulative self.

As CZ stated in own blog, the Oankali are not in the moral right they wish to see themselves inhabiting (a self-delusion to which humans themselves are prone).

There is a fascinating interplay between light and dark, and the role of shadows in "The Left Hand of Darkness." Perhaps most interesting is the concept of shifgrethor, a code of honor amongst the Karhidians, which "comes from an old word for shadow" (247). There is also, among the Handdarata, a focus on the "un"--that which seems to be the opposite of what is. In many respects, the Karhidians seem to be defined more by what they are not, by what is unseen, and by what traditionally is thought to obscure.