DescriptionGumshoe Conrad Metcalf has problems-not the least of which are the rabbit in his waiting room and the trigger-happy kangaroo on his tail. Near-future Oakland is an ominous place where evolved animals function as members of society, the police monitor citizens by their karma levels, and mind-numbing drugs such as Forgettol and Acceptol are all the rage. In this brave new world, Metcalf has been shadowing the wife of an affluent doctor, perhaps falling a little in love with her at the same time.
But when the doctor turns up dead, our amiable investigator finds himself caught in the crossfire in a futuristic world that is both funny-and not so funny. 'The plot of this fantasy mystery is hard to follow and harder to describe-suffice it to say that it takes place in a futuristic world where sheep act as receptionists and people who misbehave have karma points deducted (until they hit zero and then it's off to the deep freeze). The protagonist, voiced by narrator Nick Sullivan, speaks in a mangled Chandlerese ('His eyes were unclouded by intelligence') and is pursued by a gun-toting kangaroo (shades of Elwood P. Once you get over the confusing plot, it's a wild and kooky ride. Sullivan's deadpan is dead-on, and if you listen to audiobooks in public, be aware that you may be subject to spontaneous fits of laughter. (c) AudioFile 2008, Portland, Maine'.
Anna Karenina left her husband for a dashing officer. Lady Chatterley left hers for the gamekeeper.
Now Alice Coombs has her boyfriend for nothing. Nothing at all. Just how that should have come to pass and what Philip Engstrand, Alice's spurned boyfriend, can do about it is the premise for this vertiginous speculative romance by the acclaimed author of Gun, with Occasional Music.Alice Coombs is a particle physicist, and she and her colleagues have created a void, a hole in the universe, that they have taken to calling Lack. But Lack is a nullity with taste—tastes; it absorbs a pomegranate, light bulbs, an argyle sock; it disdains a bow tie, an ice ax, and a scrambled duck egg.
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To Alice, this selectivity translates as an irresistible personality. To Philip, it makes Lack an unbeatable rival, for how can he win Alice back from something that has no flaws—because it has no qualities? Ingenious, hilarious, and genuinely mind-expanding, As She Climbed Across the Table is the best boy-meets-girl-meets-void story ever written. Anna Karenina left her husband for a dashing officer. Lady Chatterley left hers for the gamekeeper.
Now Alice Coombs has her boyfriend for nothing. Nothing at all. Just how that should have come to pass and what Philip Engstrand, Alice's spurned boyfriend, can do about it is the premise for this vertiginous speculative romance by the acclaimed author of Gun, with Occasional Music.Alice Coombs is a particle physicist, and she and her colleagues have created a void, a hole in the universe, that they have taken to calling Lack.
But Lack is a nullity with taste—tastes; it absorbs a pomegranate, light bulbs, an argyle sock; it disdains a bow tie, an ice ax, and a scrambled duck egg. To Alice, this selectivity translates as an irresistible personality.
To Philip, it makes Lack an unbeatable rival, for how can he win Alice back from something that has no flaws—because it has no qualities? Ingenious, hilarious, and genuinely mind-expanding, As She Climbed Across the Table is the best boy-meets-girl-meets-void story ever written.
Author:Jonathan Lethem Lethem, JonathanLanguage: engFormat: epubPublisher: Houghton Mifflin HarcourtPublished: 2003-09-01T07:00:00+00:00CHAPTER 18INQUISITORS KORNFELD AND TELEPROMPTER WERE WAITing for me at my apartment. I looked around for Morgenlander but he wasn’t there. The apartment looked okay—if they’d gone through things, they’d done it gently—and Angwine was gone, all trace of him removed. The inquisitors had left depressions in the couch where they’d been sitting, but when I opened the door, they were on their feet. The depressions weren’t so close together that I had to feel left out of something; if Kornfeld and Teleprompter tussled, they didn’t do it on company time, or at least not on a stakeout. I would have preferred to think Catherine Teleprompter kept clear of the Office clowns, but it really wasn’t any of my business.“Out late,” said Kornfeld, too jauntily. “On a case?”“Not really,” I said.
I was tired, despite the fresh infusion of make, and I wasn’t in the bantering mood. I wouldn’t have minded talking to Catherine, but Kornfeld seemed to want to express himself verbally for a change.“You must have been somewhere,” he said. “We’ve been waiting since eight.”“Thanks, it makes the place feel lived in. I really appreciate it.”“You’ve been warned off this case. More than once.”“I’ve been warned off this case even more than you think. It’s getting pretty dull.”The door was still open. Kornfeld went around me and closed it.
“We don’t really want to talk about the case. The case is closed. We wanted to let you know that Orton Angwine is karmically defunct. As far as we’re concerned, that’s the end of it.”“Great.” I turned away from Kornfeld and faced Catherine Teleprompter. She seemed smaller and less formidable out of the Office, which didn’t stop me from wanting to grab hold of her—it just made it seem more possible.
She had her black waterfall of hair pinned back with a clasp this time, and it gave me a nice view of her throat. I watched it bob as our eyes locked, but she didn’t say anything.“There’s just one more piece of business,” said Kornfeld from behind me. “I need your card.”“Who gets credit for the nab?” I asked as I dug in my pocket for my card. “Morgenlander?”“Morgenlander was transferred off the case this afternoon,” said Kornfeld. “He wasn’t familiar enough with the beat.
It was a mistake bringing him in.”I handed him my card. Kornfeld took it and switched on his magnet. Scp containment breach download latest version.
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I assumed this was the part where they built me back up to an acceptable level as closure to the case. Sort of a payoff for swallowing their interpretation of events without gagging too loudly. The red light on Kornfeld’s magnet blinked, and he ran it across my card, then handed the card back.“How’d I do?” I asked.“You’re down to twenty-five points, Metcalf. Your file is up for review. Don’t ask me any more questions or I’ll be forced to cave your face in.”I was stunned. I put my card in my pocket and sat down on the couch, oblivious to Catherine Teleprompter, the case forgotten.