Saturday 31 October 2009

Shake Hands with the Zeitgeist

I've posted before about the strange trend for literary mash-ups that's arisen recently. God knows if it'll last; seems pretty flash-in-the-pan to me, surely the Internet can provide infinitely more of the same without the expense and the inconvenience of page turning (once every 700 words!). Still, I'm not averse to a bit of prospecting. Thus, I present my contribution to this field of opportunistic hackery:


Imperial March
A Study of Provincial Life in the Mid Rim

Miss Brooka had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress. Her hand and wrist were so finely formed that she could wear sleeves not less bare of style than those in which Mon Mothma had appeared before the Senate; and her profile as well as her stature and bearing seemed to gain the more dignity from her plain garments, which by the side of provincial fashion gave her the impressiveness of a fine quotation from the Collected Works of Master Yoda. She was usually spoken of as being remarkably strong in the Force, but with the addition that her sister Celiara had a higher midi-chlorian count. Nevertheless, Celiara wore scarcely more trimmings, and it was only to close observers that her dress differed from her sister’s and had a shade of coquetry in its arrangements; for Miss Brooka’s plain dressing was due to mixed conditions, in most of which her sister shared. The pride of being Jedis had something to do with it: the Brooka connexions, though not exactly aristocratic, were unquestionably "good"; if you inquired backward for a generation or two, you would not find any droid-fixing or pod-racing forefathers—anything lower than an admiral or Jedi master.


There you have it; easy as fucking a pie. Or so I imagine.

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