Quotes and Reviews
May. 7th, 2004 08:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liptonrm_backupFirst off, that marvelous, hillarious allegory that I was telling you about. You don't need a ton of backstory to understand the quote, just know that the main character (in this part) is named Randy, a network administrator. His girlfriend Charlene is a professor/doctoral candidate at a California university that is hosting a conference (that she helped organize). Because of this Randy and Charlene are housing a number of the participants in said conference. I think that's all you'll need to know to understand this passage.
"Randy was forever telling people, without rancor, that they were full of shit. That was the only way to get anything done in hacking. No one took it personally.
Charlene's crowd most definitely did take it personally. It wasn't being told that they were wrong that offended them, though-it was the underlying assumption that a person could be right or wrong about anything. So on the Night in Question, Randy had done what he usually did, which was to withdraw from the conversation. In the Tolkien, not the endocrinological or Snow White sense, Randy is a Dwarf. Tolkien's dwarves were stout, taciturn, vaguely magical creatures who spent a lot of time in the dark hammering out beautiful things, e.g. Rings of Power. Thinking of himself as a Dwarf who had hung up his war-ax for a while to go sojourning in the Shire, where he was surrounded by squabbling Hobbits (i.e., Charlene's friends), had actually done a lot for Randy's peace of mind over the years. He knew perfectly well that if he were stuck in academia these people, and the things they said, would seem momentous to him. But where he came from, nobody had been taking these people seriously for years. So he just withdrew from the conversation and drank his wine and looked out over the Pacific surf and tried not to do anything really obvious like shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
Then the topic of the Information Superhighway came up, and Randy could feel faces turning in his direction like searchlights, casting almost palpable warmth on his skin.
Dr. G. E. B. Kivistik had a few things to say about the Information Superhighway. Dr. G.E.B. Kivistik had been showing up on television pretty frequently. Dr. G.E.B. Kivistik had a couple of books out. Dr. G.E.B. Kivistik was, in short, parlaying his strongly contrarian view of the Information Superhighway into more air time than anyone who hadn't been accused of blowing up a day care center should get.
A Dwarf on sojourn in the Shire would probably go to a lot of dinner parties where pompous boring Hobbits would hold forth like this. This Dwarf would view the whole thing as entertainment. He would know that he could always go back out into the real world, so much vaster and more complex than these Hobbits imagined, and slay a few Trolls and remind himself of what really mattered.
That was what Randy always told himself, anyway. But on the Night in Question, it didn't work. Partly because Kivistik was too big and real to be a Hobbit-probably more influential in the real world then Randy would ever be. Partly because another faculty spouse at the table-a likable, harmless computerphile named Jon-decided to take issue with some of Kivistik's statements and was cheerfully shot down for his troubles. Blood was in the water.
Randy had ruined his relationship with Charlene by wanting to have kids. Kids raise issues. Charlene, like all of her friends, couldn't handle issues. Issues mean disagreement. Voicing disagreement was a form of conflict. Conflict, acted out openly and publicly, was a male mode of social interaction-the foundation for patriarchal society which brought with it the usual litany of dreadful things. Regardless, Randy decided to get patriarchal with Dr. G.E.B. Kivistik.
"How many slums will we bulldoze to build the Information Superhighway?" Kivistik said. This profundity was received with thoughtful nodding around the table.
Jon shifted in his chair as if Kivistik had just dropped an ice cube down his collar. "What does that mean?" he asked. Jon was smiling, trying not to be a conflict-oriented patriarchal hegemonist. Kivistik, in response, raised his eyebrows and looked around at everyone else, as if to say Who invited this poor lightweight? Jon tried to dig himself out from his tactical error, as Randy closed his eyes and tried not to wince visibly. Kivistik had spent more years sparring with really smart people over high table at Oxford then Jon had been alive. "You don't have to bulldoze anything. There's nothing to bulldoze," Jon pleaded.
"Very well, let me put it this way," Kivistik said magnanimously-he was not above dumbing down his material for the likes of Jon. "How many on-ramps will connect the world's ghettos to the Information Superhighway?"
Oh, that's much clearer, everyone seemed to think. Point well taken, Geb! No one looked at JOn, that argumentative pariah. Jon looked helplessly over at Randy, signaling for help.
Jon was a Hobbit who'd actually been out of the Shire recently, so he knew Randy was a dwarf. Now he was fucking up Randy's life by calling upon Randy to jump up on the table, throw off his homespun cloak, and whip out his two-handed ax.
The words came out of Randy's mouth before he had time to think better of it. "The Information Superhighway is just a fucking metaphor! Give me a break!" he said.
There was silence as everyone around the table winced in unison. Dinner had now, oficially, crashed and burned. All they could do now was grab their ankles, put their heads between their knees, and wait for the wreckage to slide to a halt."
-Neal Stephenson, Cryptonomicon pp. 99 - 102
Ha! I love it on so many levels! Hobbits and historians and Dwarves and computer guys and I couldn't stop laughing after I read this. Too perfect.
"Randy was forever telling people, without rancor, that they were full of shit. That was the only way to get anything done in hacking. No one took it personally.
Charlene's crowd most definitely did take it personally. It wasn't being told that they were wrong that offended them, though-it was the underlying assumption that a person could be right or wrong about anything. So on the Night in Question, Randy had done what he usually did, which was to withdraw from the conversation. In the Tolkien, not the endocrinological or Snow White sense, Randy is a Dwarf. Tolkien's dwarves were stout, taciturn, vaguely magical creatures who spent a lot of time in the dark hammering out beautiful things, e.g. Rings of Power. Thinking of himself as a Dwarf who had hung up his war-ax for a while to go sojourning in the Shire, where he was surrounded by squabbling Hobbits (i.e., Charlene's friends), had actually done a lot for Randy's peace of mind over the years. He knew perfectly well that if he were stuck in academia these people, and the things they said, would seem momentous to him. But where he came from, nobody had been taking these people seriously for years. So he just withdrew from the conversation and drank his wine and looked out over the Pacific surf and tried not to do anything really obvious like shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
Then the topic of the Information Superhighway came up, and Randy could feel faces turning in his direction like searchlights, casting almost palpable warmth on his skin.
Dr. G. E. B. Kivistik had a few things to say about the Information Superhighway. Dr. G.E.B. Kivistik had been showing up on television pretty frequently. Dr. G.E.B. Kivistik had a couple of books out. Dr. G.E.B. Kivistik was, in short, parlaying his strongly contrarian view of the Information Superhighway into more air time than anyone who hadn't been accused of blowing up a day care center should get.
A Dwarf on sojourn in the Shire would probably go to a lot of dinner parties where pompous boring Hobbits would hold forth like this. This Dwarf would view the whole thing as entertainment. He would know that he could always go back out into the real world, so much vaster and more complex than these Hobbits imagined, and slay a few Trolls and remind himself of what really mattered.
That was what Randy always told himself, anyway. But on the Night in Question, it didn't work. Partly because Kivistik was too big and real to be a Hobbit-probably more influential in the real world then Randy would ever be. Partly because another faculty spouse at the table-a likable, harmless computerphile named Jon-decided to take issue with some of Kivistik's statements and was cheerfully shot down for his troubles. Blood was in the water.
Randy had ruined his relationship with Charlene by wanting to have kids. Kids raise issues. Charlene, like all of her friends, couldn't handle issues. Issues mean disagreement. Voicing disagreement was a form of conflict. Conflict, acted out openly and publicly, was a male mode of social interaction-the foundation for patriarchal society which brought with it the usual litany of dreadful things. Regardless, Randy decided to get patriarchal with Dr. G.E.B. Kivistik.
"How many slums will we bulldoze to build the Information Superhighway?" Kivistik said. This profundity was received with thoughtful nodding around the table.
Jon shifted in his chair as if Kivistik had just dropped an ice cube down his collar. "What does that mean?" he asked. Jon was smiling, trying not to be a conflict-oriented patriarchal hegemonist. Kivistik, in response, raised his eyebrows and looked around at everyone else, as if to say Who invited this poor lightweight? Jon tried to dig himself out from his tactical error, as Randy closed his eyes and tried not to wince visibly. Kivistik had spent more years sparring with really smart people over high table at Oxford then Jon had been alive. "You don't have to bulldoze anything. There's nothing to bulldoze," Jon pleaded.
"Very well, let me put it this way," Kivistik said magnanimously-he was not above dumbing down his material for the likes of Jon. "How many on-ramps will connect the world's ghettos to the Information Superhighway?"
Oh, that's much clearer, everyone seemed to think. Point well taken, Geb! No one looked at JOn, that argumentative pariah. Jon looked helplessly over at Randy, signaling for help.
Jon was a Hobbit who'd actually been out of the Shire recently, so he knew Randy was a dwarf. Now he was fucking up Randy's life by calling upon Randy to jump up on the table, throw off his homespun cloak, and whip out his two-handed ax.
The words came out of Randy's mouth before he had time to think better of it. "The Information Superhighway is just a fucking metaphor! Give me a break!" he said.
There was silence as everyone around the table winced in unison. Dinner had now, oficially, crashed and burned. All they could do now was grab their ankles, put their heads between their knees, and wait for the wreckage to slide to a halt."
-Neal Stephenson, Cryptonomicon pp. 99 - 102
Ha! I love it on so many levels! Hobbits and historians and Dwarves and computer guys and I couldn't stop laughing after I read this. Too perfect.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
LMAO
Date: 2004-05-07 06:41 pm (UTC)Jon was a Hobbit who'd actually been out of the Shire recently, so he knew Randy was a dwarf. Now he was fucking up Randy's life by calling upon Randy to jump up on the table, throw off his homespun cloak, and whip out his two-handed ax.
Where can I get me some of that action?
Re: LMAO
Date: 2004-05-08 11:19 am (UTC)Where can I get me some of that action?
I know. I need a dwarf or two in my life as well.