As the chicken bawk-bawk-bawked
Aug. 31st, 2006 10:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chanticoI've shown this to a few people, but really, it just needs to be shared with *the world*. From Terry Goodkind's "masterpiece", Soul of Fire:
Hissing, hackles lifting, the chicken's head rose. Kahlan pulled back. Its claws digging into stiff dead flesh, the chicken slowly turned to face her. It cocked its head, making its comb flop, its wattles sway. "Shoo," Kahlan heard herself whisper. There wasn't enough light, and besides, the side of its beak was covered with gore, so she couldn't tell if it had the dark spot, But she didn't need to see it. "Dear spirits, help me," she prayed under her breath. The bird let out a slow chicken cackle. It sounded like a chicken, but in her heart she knew it wasn't. In that instant, she completely understood the concept of a chicken that was not a chicken. This looked like a chicken, like most of the Mud People's chickens. But this was no chicken. This was evil manifest.
*IS DED*
More hilarity here: http://www.journalfen.net/users/waltraute/4244.html
The best part about this is that Goodkind has to be one of the absolutely wankiest whiners in genre fiction today. MY WRITING IS TEH SERIOUS BIZNUS, GUYS. No one could ever explore humanist themes in fantasy! Those that label me as a fantasy writer are just bigoted! Because, you know, evil chickens are super deep!
He then compared himself to Shania Twain, since they are both so misunderstood by their audiences.
CHEER UP EMO KID. Seriously, I expect Rand or Richard or Rip Torn or whatever the fuck his name is to be quoting Fallout Boy lyrics in the next book.
Hissing, hackles lifting, the chicken's head rose. Kahlan pulled back. Its claws digging into stiff dead flesh, the chicken slowly turned to face her. It cocked its head, making its comb flop, its wattles sway. "Shoo," Kahlan heard herself whisper. There wasn't enough light, and besides, the side of its beak was covered with gore, so she couldn't tell if it had the dark spot, But she didn't need to see it. "Dear spirits, help me," she prayed under her breath. The bird let out a slow chicken cackle. It sounded like a chicken, but in her heart she knew it wasn't. In that instant, she completely understood the concept of a chicken that was not a chicken. This looked like a chicken, like most of the Mud People's chickens. But this was no chicken. This was evil manifest.
*IS DED*
More hilarity here: http://www.journalfen.net/users/waltraute/4244.html
The best part about this is that Goodkind has to be one of the absolutely wankiest whiners in genre fiction today. MY WRITING IS TEH SERIOUS BIZNUS, GUYS. No one could ever explore humanist themes in fantasy! Those that label me as a fantasy writer are just bigoted! Because, you know, evil chickens are super deep!
He then compared himself to Shania Twain, since they are both so misunderstood by their audiences.
CHEER UP EMO KID. Seriously, I expect Rand or Richard or Rip Torn or whatever the fuck his name is to be quoting Fallout Boy lyrics in the next book.
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no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-01 01:55 am (UTC)I wouldn't listen to them if they were. I'd make fun of them and poke my fingers in their open wounds. ;)