HIS MIND. WAS A BIN. WITHOUT END. CATCHING EVERYTHING.pic.twitter.com/LUiI7GjPHi
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I will bet actual cash-money that this was a thought Herbert had while high and which he found so profound that he just had to include itpic.twitter.com/CGaYD0MqXA
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sign number 987 that this book was written in the mid sixtiespic.twitter.com/NmXqbkNAQT
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"his left hand felt at the sphincter-seal of the tent's entrance"pic.twitter.com/NnDUJSd0BL
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Paul is going through a list of what's in their survival kit and I just choke-snorted because one of the items is listed as a sandsnork. After a moment's thought I'm guessing this is short for sand-snorkel but at first glance it was just hilarious gibberish.
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Paul has suddenly morphed into an all-seeing, all-knowing Whingetwink of Destiny who's rude to his brilliant mother and it is, dare I say it, EXTREMELY annoying.
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does the fact that Harkonnen wants to bone his own grandson, albeit unknowingly, ever get addressed or nah?pic.twitter.com/McJgkcElqP
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we get it, Frank: he’s the quidditch hubcappic.twitter.com/SpUE7Qi4nk
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"He remained silent, thinking like the seed he was, thinking with the race consciousness he had first experienced as terrible purpose."pic.twitter.com/MZReF2J0YM
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WELP THIS SURE IS A BOOK FROM THE SIXTIES WRITTEN BY A WHITE DUDEpic.twitter.com/6UXJUz6FIc
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HOKAY, I am done for tonight! Deep breath. I can rest now.
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