I finally read Eragon.

I did enjoy it, and will certainly be reading Eldest next time I get to the library, but there were several things which bothered me. The two major issues I had with Eragon were:

1. Saphira will eventually annihilate the planet.

2. Eragon is an idiot.

Okay, maybe idiot is a bit strong. Still, there were times when I just wanted to give him a good smack upside the head in an attempt to knock some sense into him.

(Of course, smacking a dude who's best friend is a rather large, definitely lethal dragon might qualify me for the status of idiot...)

But I suppose I should deal with the first issue first.

All right, in Eragon there were two facts about dragons which, in themselves, do not pose an issue. Together, however, is a completely different story. These are:

1. Dragons live forever.

2. Dragons never stop growing.

The whole immortality thing isn't really uncommon among fantasy creatures, and I believe that crocodiles never stop growing.

But crocodiles aren't immortal. The fact that they have a finite lifespan places an obvious limit to their growth.

Not so with dragons. Furthermore, Saphira's growth was exceedingly rapid (although I can understand that it probably won't continue at the same rate for her whole lifespan). Even if her growth rate slows to something like, say, a foot a year, this still poses an obvious issue.

Little by little, Saphira will grow. She will become larger than a mountain. She will become larger than an island. She will become larger than a continent. She will eventually crush Alagaesia (I'm too lazy to put in the umlaut). She will eventually grow too large for the planet to hold.

And when that happens, one stray swish of her tail will send the planet out of its orbit, either flying into the sun or out into the cold, unforgiving depths of space.

Yeah. I'm surprised that Paolini didn't think of that.

Now I'll move on to point number two. Eragon is supposedly intelligent enough that he can learn to read in a week. However, he seems to be seriously lacking in common sense. I will give two examples (two seems to be the theme of this post).

1. Threatening to torture someone is apparently all right, but whacking off the head of a slaver? No way.

During Eragon's escape from Durza's prison, he threatens to inflict years of torment on a guard by implanting an ever-burning grain of sand in his gut. I found this scene disturbing, as it was a serious departure from Eragon's established character (that is, that of an impulsive young man who will always do what he believes is right, no matter the consequence). Such a threat would have been more suited coming from Murtagh (who was much less idealistic).

However, later on, when Eragon and Murtagh are attacked by slavers, Eragon yells at Murtagh for chopping of the head of the slaver band's leader. What was Eragon thinking? If Murtagh had let the man escape, and the man had managed to get to civilization and start up a new band, more innocents would have been captured and forced into a life of slavery. It's not like the guy hadn't struck first.

2. I don't like you, so no more magic for you! Who cares if we're fighting the same war?

Those poor nameless Twins, while unpleasant, were magicians fighting with the Varden. Eragon was a dragonrider (and thus a magic-user) fighting with the Varden. Why does Eragon seek to keep his magic words a secret? Logically, he should be happy to share anything which would help others in the fight against the Empire. Even if Eragon personally dislikes the Twins, teaching them all he knows would help the Varden, and could potentially turn the tides of battle.

I know, I know. Eragon is young, and can't be expected to know everything. But still, is it that difficult to think these things through?

Still, I've enjoyed the Inheritance series so far. I can't wait to read Eldest.

I have coined a new computer term: email sneezing.

You know those chain emails that tell you to forward them to everyone you know? Well, an email sneeze is when you do it.

See, I liken these emails to a virus of sorts. One person is infected, then they "sneeze" out emails which demand that the sender send it to all of their friends. Of course, a few people just delete it, (those who are "immune") but the rest keep the chain going.

Now that I have created a term for it, perhaps it will come into wide usage. Soon, perhaps, "email sneeze" will be a common phrase in everyday conversation.

Achoo!

I just realized how similar "exercise" and "exorcise" sound. I am now officially weirded out.

Oh, and the longest one-syllable word in the English language is "screeched".

If I were to consume 87 cups of brewed coffee, I would die of caffeine poisoning.

Yes, there's actually a website which will tell you these sorts of things.

Of course, I don't even drink coffee...

However, I do enjoy the occasional glass of chocolate milk. If I were to go overboard and consume 1870 glasses or so, that would also take me out.

But I think that's probably more chocolate milk than the amount of blood in my veins. And I'd probably die of something else before I got that far, like water or calcium poisoning.

I guess I'm being just a wee bit morbid, but hey, it's an interesting fact to know.

Apparently I have pneumonia.

Bleh.

Now I have a pill the size of a submarine to swallow twice a day.

Double bleh.

White rice + Cajun seasoning = Happy tastebuds + Sinus clearage

Now I'm no fan of math, but that there's an equation I can stomach.

Okay, I now know that my lips were not plotting against me. It was a bunch of nasty pathogens which have beset me for these past few days. Thankfully, I'm feeling much better, and have had no further car-crash dreams.

Tonight Mom made microwave chocolate cake. It was very tasty, and I was feeling well enough today to actually consume food. It was a decent cake, but somewhat dry. Mom says that next time she'll try cooking it for seven minutes instead of eight. (Microwave cake is certainly quick, albeit inferior to regular oven-baked cake.)

There is nothing worse than having itchy lips.

That's what happened to me last night. It was awful, and I had to take Benedryl (not sure how to spell it, and too lazy to check.) The resulting drowsiness resulted in my going to bed at about 7:30, where I proceeded to dream about driving the family van. While I was driving, everything suddenly went black, so I had to blindly search with my foot for the brakes, which ended up not working. When I finally got the van to stop, it was all dented up.

I don't know why, but whenever I drive a car in my dreams, I always crash.

Usually because the brakes have mysteriously stopped working. No one ends up dying, though.

I suppose this could be due to some subconscious anxiety about learning to drive (I haven't started yet, but hopefully will be soon). My subconscious is obviously so anxious about my getting behind the wheel of a multi-ton high-speed hunk of metal that it's trying to give me an aversion to the very idea of it via car-crash dreams. I wouldn't be surprised if my lips were in on it too, getting all itchy so I have to take medicine that gets me drowsy and thus asleep faster in order to give my subconscious more time to mess with my head.

My subconscious is truly an evil mastermind.

On December 29, I ordered some books online. They said it was 3-day delivery, but obviously they just said that to mess with poor, naive Heather's mind.

Yes, it was a holiday weekend, so I suppose some delay is only natural.

But I still haven't gotten them.

That's ten days! Nearly a week and a half!

Furthermore, when I went to the UPS website to track my sweet box of literary goodness, it said that the shipping date has been 'rescheduled' to January 10.

What did I ever do to UPS? Why do they hate me so?

At least I was able to visit the library a few days ago, so I'm not completely lacking in literature.

I finally won a game of Minesweeper. Sure, it was Beginner level... but I won, with a score of 80 seconds. Yay!