Iain Banks, 1954-2013

The Bridge


      ‘You know,’ he said, ‘if I had my way I wouldn’t let anybody who believed in star signs or the Bible or faith healing or anything like that use electric power, or ride in cars and buses and trains and aircraft, or use anything made of plastic. They want to believe the universe works according to their crazy little rules? OK, let them live that way, but why should they be allowed to use the fruits of sheer fucking human genius and hard work, things produced only because people better than them once had the sense and the hope to – will you stop laughing at me?’ He glared at her. She was shaking with silent laughter, her pinkly quivering tongue poised to lick another paper. She turned to him, eyes glistening, and held out a hand.

      ‘You’re just so funny, sometimes,’ she said.

– Iain Banks, The Bridge Continue reading