Saturday, August 04, 2007

SF Kissing over at Sci-Fi Catholic

DGD has posted some really terrific--and hilarious--examples of SF kissing over at his blog. Here are a few:

The Isaac Asimov Kiss: A thousand-year period of darkness is coming, during which kissing will be impossible.

The Arthur C. Clarke Kiss: You can kiss in hard vacuum if you're quick about it.

The Robert A. Heinlein Kiss: If you grok Martian, you can kiss anyone you want...and you should spend four years in the military.

The Hal Clement Kiss: An essay on the physics of kissing will follow the story.

The C. S. Lewis Kiss: "I cannot bear the least suggestion, no matter how sportive, of kissing between different species or even between children."

The J. R. R. Tolkien Kiss: As there is no room in the novel, the kissing has been relegated to an appendix.

The H. P. Lovecraft Kiss: "I have seen all that the universe has to hold of horror, and now even the kisses of pretty girls will ever afterwards be poison to me."


Find more at the blog entry and in the comments section. (Make sure to check those. Some very good ones there, inluding those of Mir's fave ninja-comics-reading blogger, Claw Man.)

I'm afraid I'm not in top comedic form today, but I still decided to play along. Here are mine:


The Joanna Russ kiss: She kissed her, and she thought that this couldn't be better, not with men, not with any man, because men suck.

The Patricia McKillip kiss: The tower raised its golden grandeur over the green land, its walls saturated with the light of the summer sun, and he knew it was only there, in the legendary chamber with the tapestries of the forgotten beasts of Kinuko, that he could kiss her and bring an end to the madness of battles and riddles. There, in the kiss, would be the answer.


Theodore Sturgeon kiss: Her pale skin seem to pucker, goosefleshed, beckoning, telling him how very lonely she'd been without him. His alien hands, scaly and blue, touched her. The touch broke him into fragments, and all of the pieces that made up his foreign flesh floated over her and kissed her, kissed her, kissed her: her hair, her eyes, her shoulders, her elbows, and her lips. She sighed and said his true name. At last, for that space of time when all they could do was kiss and sigh, they were not unknown and they were not alone.


The Tanith Lee kiss: My first kiss was forced upon me by the cold lips of the black-eyed lord of darkness, but then a vampire caught my eye in Paradys. But my truest kiss came with the taste of silver metal. Perhaps, someday, if I wish and pray and happen upon a kind fairy godmother, I'll get to kiss a normal man who just wants a couple of kids and a house in Vermont.

The Frank Herbert kiss: Mmmm. Spicy.

The Lois McMaster Bujold Kiss: She bent down, lower, lower, lower. There. Smooch.


So, who's got some entries into the SF Kissing round-up? Post 'em!

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