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Misbeliever - Chapter 3

by eanna 

Posted: 19 December 2005
Word Count: 3206
Summary: Jacob is forced to make a decision

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Content Warning
This piece and/or subsequent comments may contain strong language.

Chapter 3
Big Deal

On Via Ludovisi in Rome, in the executive suite of the Hotel Eden, Jacob was mulling. He enjoyed a good mull. He sat on his balcony drinking scotch and thinking, or rather trying no to, which was easy. Jacob had spent many hours of his life not thinking, he was sure everybody did it. Obviously there were thoughts being thought, but they were inconsequential and able to think about themselves, leaving the brain free to shut down and blow dust over the memories of old friends and their absent futures.
Currently thoughts of whiskey were happening in Jacob’s mind, completely free of his control and as dull as a Shepherd’s social skills. He was thinking about Scotch and why he was drinking it.
Why indeed? It wasn’t nice to drink, it didn’t smell nice, so why? In movies and books, in bar and parties all over the world people were doing it. Again why?
Coolness, the thoughts decided amongst themselves. That was it. Scotch had a Steve McQueen-ness about it. Adults drank it and children wanted to. When you were younger, the thoughts told Jacob, you used to think that scotch would taste like chocolate. I did, Jacob answered, taking up his own cognitive duties once more.
He’d gotten it wrong of course, about the whiskey. When he’d tasted it for the first time in a friend’s house in the middle of the night, the stuff had made him wretch. It was so bitter and galling. Again and again he tried to drink it, steeling his gullet in front of friends and smiling wryly as it went down his throat, pretending that it didn’t burn him, showing everyone how cool he was. Oh Yeah.
How many other people had done the same, and not just with whiskey, with everything. Who didn’t spend their childhoods aspiring to be something that wasn’t real, copying something enough times only to find that the skills they prized so highly, the nonchalance, the indifference, were alienating them from each other.
Until you find yourself alone, your best friend having just died, drinking a drink that you never enjoyed.

Jacob shook his head. That’s what he got for taking part in your his thoughts. He stood up and stretched, the thoughts of impending depression were depressing him. He needed a change of scene, to get out of Rome. This was Daniel’s home, not his. It was a pity that such a beautiful place could conjure up such negativity, but there you go, Jacob was all about the negativity lately. At the end of his stretch he bellowed out the yawn that belonged to it. It was so loud it made him laugh and stagger a little. He was drunk, good. Jacob reached for his glass of single malted imitation but found that he’d misjudged the distance from hand to eye and simply turned it over on the tabletop. The liquid splashed out of the glass and the table was such that the whiskey formed into drops upon its surface and didn’t soak in.
For more than a few moments Jacob watched the droplets move in the breeze like little translucent brown beetles. One of them was much bigger than the rest and whenever smaller ones blew near, they seemed to get sucked in. It was as if the Whiskey had its own liquid gravity and the other parts of its alcoholic self would return to the mother load. Homeopaths believe in the memory of water, although it seems unlikely. But if it does, then Whiskey would too, wouldn’t it? Isn’t everything in the universe either moving away from or heading back towards its origin. That would mean that everything had a sort of universal memory. Didn’t it? Maybe the Pope knew. Or perhaps the Pope was too new to know yet. Jacob decided to ask him anyway.
Getting back to the spilled Whiskey, Jacob felt that, unlike the alcoholic lives of human, the liquid seemed it would never fall apart. How could it? Jacob’s aimless drunken thoughts had taken over again.
‘That’s better,’ said the thoughts as he reached for the bottle, ‘Let us take care of everything.’


The New Pope indeed. All Jacob could think of when he thought of his Papalness was the Emperor from Star Wars. That often happened to him and, he expected, to a lot of other people. Whenever he heard the word “famous”, Jacob pictured a red carpet and cameras flashing. When he saw a limo with a sunroof he thought of the movie “Big”. At some point his mind had linked words and phrases to certain images in his memory, and now, whether by ingrained logic or, and he suspected this of his own, the mind was too damn lazy to update the images. Maybe the mind was like Microsoft, you just take it the way you get it, after all, what choice did you have?
‘Mr Terry?’ said the priest with the white goatee. ‘Are you listening?’
‘Absolutely,’ Jacob lied, but the man, whose name Jacob had immediately forgotten, was not convinced, so Jacob tried to convince him. ‘You were saying that Rome was much more than the spiritual and cultural capital of Italy. It is the capital of the Catholic world. Of, em, Christendom, and so on. That if everything that has happened in this city were written in one book, it would take a century to write…’ Jacob trailed off.
‘What?’ said the priest with the white goatee, ‘I said nothing like that.’
‘Oh.’ Said Jacob, he could have sworn the man had said something about that sort of thing. ‘Bad guess?’ he tried, but it didn’t help. The man facing him in the back of the Limo with the “Big” sunroof, was now annoyed and not showing any signs of impending good humour.

The car had arrived to collect him first thing that morning while Jacob was loosing an argument with the bastard behind his eyes. The Bastard, his headache, was being far too stubborn. Even now in the back of the Vatican courtesy car after being spoiled with several painkillers, the Bastard kept piping up. What about me? It said, don’t you forget about me!
The bedside phone had woken the two of them, the Bastard and he, with the shrillest of rings. Greeeeeeeeeaaannnn, Greeeeeeeeeaaannnn! it harassed, until they’d had to get up. It was probably for the best though. Jacob had been in need of some air, and something -aside from alcohol- to keep his mind off the real reason why he was in Rome.
Hoping that he was right Jacob had taken the lift down to the lobby and noticed as soon as he emerged there that the Earth’s orbit had decayed drastically during the night. The sun was now virtually on top of him and it burned the eyes right out of his sockets, figuratively speaking.
Christ! Jacob had thought, but there wasn’t much he could have done then. He was up and out, and not the type to go backwards. This only left him, unfortunately, with forwards.
Resigned to his faith Jacob had paused momentarily at the front desk to leave a message for Maria, before walking out onto the street into the blinding light. Out there in the glare, stood a white stretch Limo, the door was open and a collared man with a white goatee was beckoning to him.
Stretch Limo. Did people still say that? They were all stretch, weren’t they? It was then that Jacob had realised it was going to be one of those mornings where he wouldn’t be able to control his own thoughts. And, although he was used to his spells of confused madness, the only way he could ever control them was by sitting down and getting some writing done. Well, that wasn’t going to happen today, he was just going to have to make the best of the situation.
So Jacob had decided to take his confusion and his Bastard and get into the waiting car, out of the blazing sun. He could recover when he got back at lunchtime, if he hadn’t been pan-fried in the sun first.

So there he was in the Limo, pretending to pay attention, Jacob, his Bastard and an increasingly tetchy clergyman.
‘Mr Terry?’ Said the priest with the grey goatee… Claudio was it? ‘Are you listening?’ Jacob resolved to keep focused from now on.
‘Please,’ he said, ‘don’t mind me, I am listening.’ Claudio or whatever his name was looked at Jacob with great doubt before continuing. As he did so an expression of resignation replaced the peevish pinched look that had been on the priest’s previous face. It was as if he was thinking, ‘who cares if he listens or not, the quicker I get rid of this fool, the longer I’ll have this Limo to myself. And then I can put my head out the sunroof and….’
‘So,’ Claudio began, interrupting Jacob again, ‘there is a reason you were invited to come and see the Pope today.’ Jacob tried to nod, but the Bastard told him that nodding was not so good.
‘Apart from actually seeing the New Pope, you mean?’ Jacob said. Claudio laughed to himself.
‘Yes, apart from that. You see,’ and now he leaned forward taking Jacob’s hand and stroking it as though he were a sick child, ‘the Church needs you Jacob Terry. She needs something from you. Something only you can give’ Claudio leaned back and Jacob rescued his hand.
‘You?’ Jacob asked, ‘aren’t “the Church”, are you? If you know what I mean?’ alluding to the other’s hand stroking. ‘Because, if you are, I’m not really into, you know, that. You know what I’m saying?’
‘Very funny.’ said Claudio, giving Jacob a no-nonsense look.
‘Sorry.’ said Jacob. Claudio reached inside his shirt and brought out a bejewelled crucifix the size of a CD that hung about his neck.
‘Do you know what this is?’
‘Yes,’ said Jacob, wanting to say, “oohh fancy” but sensing that something bigger than his petty jesting was about to occur.
‘This,’ said Claudio, grasping Christ by the feet and shaking him in Jacob’s face, ‘is the reason for all of this. The Lord is the reason for everything.’ Jacob nodded again, but this time the Bastard didn’t respond, things were getting interesting.
‘What about God?’ Jacob asked, aware that he was expected to do so, but curious all the same.
‘God?’ Claudio smiled, ‘God was here already. Long before the Catholics and the Islamic, the Jews and the Hindus, God was around in one way or the other. But he was only an idea then. A hope. A prayer. When the Lord came down from heaven he changed the shape of our faith.’ Again Claudio shook the Crucifix. ‘To this shape, his shape, the shape of man himself. Then they all started to have messiahs. The Lama, Mohammad, it became fashionable to have a manifestation of God, on which belief could be focused. Like the Egyptians and the Aztecs they saw that the power of their religions grew exponentially when a being of flesh was made the incarnate of God himself.’
Claudio’s voice strained with emotion. Here was a quiver in his voice when he tried to continue, but the words escaped him. Once, twice, he attempted to resume before he found them again.
‘I have always been certain that all of these other messiahs were nothing more than the clever marketing that they seemed to be. Because I knew the Lord and I have dedicated my life to understanding his words and the words spoken about him.’ Claudio stopped then. The priest looked tired to Jacob who watched him as he slumped into his seat. Was it an act? Jacob thought not.
‘And now?’ Jacob asked. The priest with the white goatee looked up at him.
‘Now, the story is incomplete. I studied for years the books of the Bible only to find that it was incomplete. Oh, I knew that it had been edited, reworded to suit people to whom it was being taught. But I did not know that there were pieces missing. Important pieces.’
‘Pieces missing?’ Jacob asked, ‘There are pieces missing from the Bible? Like what?’ He wanted to know.
‘During Jesus life, the Romans ruled Judea yes?’
‘Yeah.’ If the life of Brian was anything to go by, Jacob knew this to be true, ‘And?’
‘Many of the young Hebrews were forced into service.’
‘So, I have read accounts in the last two years that speak of a young Judean soldier in the Roman army. How he became a leader, that he was cunning, ruthless, a killer. The accounts speak of him murdering and raping along with his Roman counterparts...’
‘No way, you’re bullshitting me,’ said Jacob, ‘there’s no way, no way.’ Claudio smirked.
‘In the beginning I thought, so what! Some man following Jesus’ description, it means nothing.’
‘So, come on, is it nothing?’ Jacob really wanted to know now.
‘That’s where you come in.’ said Claudio.
‘I don’t follow you.’ said Jacob.
‘It must be true because they want your help to write them in.’
‘Them what?’
‘The missing pieces! They, the holy Church want you to help them write the missing parts back into the Bible. It will be an astounding work. You have been chosen to explain the why of it. Why Jesus did the things he did. Why the knowledge was kept away from God’s people for so long.’
‘And?’ asked Jacob, ‘why was it? Or, more importantly, why bother to tell them about it now? Surely it’s too late?’
‘Well it’s very complicated,’ Claudio began, ‘you see, freedom of information and growing interest in…’
‘Oh fuck off!’ Jacob told him, ‘freedom of information, yeah right. Why, really? If all of this is true, then tell me why it has to be done?’ Claudio thought for a moment before answering, it was obvious that he had reached the end of the information that he was supposed to impart, but he did answer.
‘There is a man.’ Claudio said. ‘A man who knows…’
‘Shh… Not only does this man know, but also he has proof. If the Church don’t try and beat him to it, he will tell the world, unless we give in to his demands.’
‘Demands? What does he want, money? Come on, surely the Church has enough money to buy off a million guys who know?’
‘Oh yes Mr Terry, ‘
‘Jacob, you will soon see, if you take this job, how much money the Church has. But this man, does not want money.’
‘What does he want?’ asked Jacob. What could be more important than the mountains of money the Catholic Church could surely provide?’
‘He wants to live forever.’ said Claudio. Jacob was more than a little disappointed with the answer.
‘What? He wants to go to heaven, is that fucken it? Can’t he just go to fucking confession or something?’ Claudio shook his head.
‘Can you believe that I asked the same question when I heard what he wanted. Exactly the same question?’
‘Word for word?’ Jacob asked.
‘Especially some words!’ Claudio said as his voice crackling with a regretful and bitter humour. ‘But then they told me what he really wants.’ Claudio took Jacob’s hand again and leaned forward. This time the sentiment was not out of place. Now that Jacob knew what the man must have been thinking when he had first begun to speak, it seemed apt and conspiratorial.
‘Jacob,’ said Claudio, ‘Yes he wants to live forever, but not in heaven. He wants to do it here. To rise from the dead like Jesus and be immortal.’
‘Yes here.’
‘And he thinks that the church can give him that?’
‘He is not… a good man.’ said Claudio leaving out some words and releasing Jacob’s hand once more. ‘He believes that the church has lied about the details of the Lord’s resurrection and he wants us to share it with him. Of course, the church knows nothing of this, so you see why we have to continue along a different course.’
‘Yes.’ said Jacob. ‘I see.’ But he wasn’t sure if he did. It was then that Jacob noticed the car hadn’t moved for some time. ‘Where are we?’ he asked.
‘Outside your hotel.’ said Claudio.
‘So we’re not going to…?’
‘No,’ Said Claudio. Jacob nodded to himself. ‘No Pope today,’ he said to himself.
It was a lot to take in. The whole story was huge and completely ridiculous. One thing was certain. This week was definitely one for the scrap heap.
‘The accounts are kept separate from each other, you will get some of them here, but the rest you will have to collect yourself. It is no longer important to keep them apart. Now that this man has gotten proof of their existence.’ Jacob was shocked, he had somehow glossed over what his role was to be in this farce.
‘Hey wait there,’ he said, ‘I never agreed to anything!’
‘Of course, of course,’ Claudio placated him, ‘we will contact you tomorrow morning before you leave. I am sure you will have your answer then.’ The priest ushered Jacob to the door that had been opened from the outside, allowing the nearing fireball of the sun to assail Jacob’s waning state once more.
‘Ok,’ said Jacob, knowing that his answer would be a firm, no. He stood out of the car and the priest closed the door behind him. Jacob was turning to leave when he heard the window opening. Claudio stuck his hand out and Jacob shook it.
‘Thank you Jacob, for listening at least.’ Said the priest as the engine roared. The driver, who must have opened the door, was back in his seat and the engine was gunning hard.
‘Thank you, Claudio,’ Jacob called as the Limo moved off and was swallowed by the hungry Roman traffic.
‘Claudio?’ mouthed the priest as window was wound up.
‘Damn it!’ said Jacob at the roadside, ‘I could have sworn it was Claudio.’

It hardly mattered now anyway. He would meet Maria for lunch later, go out for a cure tonight, and tomorrow he would be gone, back home to Ireland. Or maybe somewhere further? Whatever he did, it wasn’t going to involve him writing some PR booklet for the Catholic Church.
Jesus Christ murdering people, men who wanted to be reincarnated as themselves? Somebody else could have them. What Jacob needed now was a really greasy salty plate of fried food and a cup of tea. It was too bright out today. Perhaps he could go somewhere dark, but the only types of places that were dark at this time of day were strip clubs. Could he get a fry in a strip club?
Jacob wandered off, thinking about greased strippers and whether the two would be available together. He didn’t notice Rajette as he fell into step with him a regulation thirty yards back down the road, nor did he notice that the little Palestinian man was fingering what could only have been a gun in his jacket pocket.

Well, you wouldn’t would you?

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Comments by other Members

Traveller at 21:20 on 19 December 2005  Report this post
Hi Eanna. I've skim-read parts of this - it's quite a big chunk of text. But I shall give you my thoughts on the bits I have read if that's OK with you. I liked the description 'translucent brown beetles' and I thought the setting was interesting (although perhaps slightly too reminiscent of the Da Vinci Code?). I didn't like Shepherd's social skills; somehow it didn't fit. I thought the beginning section about thoughts could be edited down; you dwell slightly too long on this section I felt. I noticed a couple of typos - second sentence - 'no' should be 'not' and then later on 'loose' should be 'lose'. The second typo put me off a bit, while we all make typos, as a reader it is off-putting and suggests the writer isn't in command of the language. I don't know whether this is the first draft of a novel, it certainly reads like it; there is a lot of room for polishing it up. I hope you manage to make this piece work. As always, the above is purely subjective and others may totally disagree with me! Good luck with the rest of it.

Ava at 18:39 on 27 December 2005  Report this post
Hi Eanna, hope you had a nice xmas, i have commented on the chapter two already so you know i am keeping up with this.

I have to agree with Traveller about the setting being reminiscent of the da vinci code, maybe its because your story is rounding on the Catholic Church also, but you know there is no reason why this couldnt be written in the same circumstances yet be original in its own right. maybe another read over with this ( i hate looking over my work again by the way) would help with this! now if you disagree, just totally ignore me!

Aside from that, (i thought I'd get that over with first because i really like this story)i enjoy reading the great use of description and i laughed out loud at Jacob's sense of humour (very Irish) and he certainly has a very down to earth nature which is relateable and nice to read.

You are a very witty writer, and i can see this as being something really big (I'm not humouring you i mean that).

looking forward to reading more, eanna, great stuff!


eanna at 12:57 on 28 December 2005  Report this post
Hi Sarah,

Actually I've finished the book and am kind of using you guys to examine it chapter by chapter. I was writing it when the "De Code" was getting popular and I had a heart attack when I heard its subject, so you'll see that the focus of the book changes from scrolls and such to the personal beliefs of the main character.

I have been constantly worried about this, so I'm glad you mentioned it.

Do you have any suggestions about how to ensure that everyone who reads it isn't going to say the same, it's these three chapters that seem to be my problem as the the rest is set in Africa and very my a vision quest.


Ava at 15:24 on 28 December 2005  Report this post
Well whats great about this is you have no boundaries on how to improve your story. What you said about "da code" coming out while you were writing it must have been a real kick in the gut! however, you are something that dan brown isnt - a writer. i dont care what people say about dan brown the academic, the man wouldnt know how to develop a character if it hit him in the face, although thats just my opinion and now I'm getting off the point.

As I've said i think Jacob is real down to earth and i like him a lot. its important that a reader likes the person they're reading about so they will want to follow their journey and you have that. i always felt that even the smallest detail is great for characterisation.

A suggestion might be to integrate more memories of Daniel into Jacob's thinking and since we only know Daniel through Jacob's eyes, this would give your beginning a more thoughtful perspective. We ask, is Daniel much like Jacob? is this task the church want him to do something Daniel would have done? you are giving more reason for Jacob to do what is being asked of him despite all that sarcastic resistance. With Jacob making such a big decision to go through with this (and i presume he does) a good solid reason is needed to make him assign himself to something so complicated.

perhaps another suggestion would be a build up of why Jacob should or shouldnt agree with this. I recently read Macbeth and one of the main reasons he went through with the murder was the goading and manipulation coming from his wife, Lady Macbeth. Shakespeare is one of the greatest playwrights for plot and giving reason as to why these things happen.

Perhaps Jacob could be his own manipulator, or even Maria could be his reason not to agree? Maybe he has this task following him around like a dark cloud and even though he has already given his firm no, for some reason he cant stop thinking about it. its taunting him and hes going crazy (not literally) just wondering what ifs.

My point here is that the more distinctive the character, the less comparison will be made available to your story. No matter where the surroundings are or who the plot involves, its the original nature of Jacob that will evolve the story. You can develop a great story not just a great big chain of events (ahem, Dan Brown).

I really hope I havent confused you or made things worse. I hope I helped a little!

Best of luck, cant wait to read the next chapter.


smudger at 10:23 on 29 December 2005  Report this post
Hi Eanna,

First of all the positives: the playful use of language, the numerous good jokes and the unfolding intrigue. These are all very well done and enjoyable to read.

I must say that I didn't think 'Da Vinci Code' when reading the first two chapters, but it did strike me that way when I read this one. It's definitely a problem that needs to be dealt with, otherwise you could give the impression - although I know this is not the reality - of jumping on the Catholic Church conspiracy bandwagon.

Perhaps one way to deal with this is to give a knowing nod in the direction of Dan Brown. Jacob is a writer after all, so you could send him off on a rant about, 'Oh no not another bloody Church conspiracy book'. This means that you can retain your excellent plot line and take the rug from under people who say that you are being in any way derivative. Just a thought.

On a more mundane level, I spotted a couple of typos:

'figuratively speaking.' – is redundant.

'Catholics and the Islamic,' - ‘…Moslems,’

I'm really enjoying this and looking forward to the next instalment.



Patsy at 21:27 on 03 January 2006  Report this post
Hi Eanna,

I don't recall if I read the first two chapters, as I'm feeling a bit lost, so I'll comment on this one.

Things to consider:

That’s what he got for taking part in (your) his thoughts.
Cut the "your" from this sentence.

If there were truly any secrets about Christ's resurection, the Catholic Church wouldn't know what they were, as they didn't exist when he died/arose. Why not go for the Messianic Jews? If anyone would be privy to such secrets, it would be a Christian Jew.
This would distance you from the D. Code -- or consider switching to a different religion all together. Why not pick on another faith?

I'm most likely not the best person to offer comments on this story, as due to personal beliefs, I don't like to see Christ picked on period -- so take my advise with a grain of salt! :)


Cymro at 09:26 on 07 January 2006  Report this post
Hi Eanna,

Here are my comments on this chapter. I haven't read the previous chapters I'm afraid, so apologies if I've missed something or misinterpreted anything!

I thought the character of Jacob was very distinctive. His voice is really interesting and I'd certainly be interested in following his story.

I quite liked the idea that Jacob's thoughts are thinking themselves, but this gets a bit tortuous. Perhaps you can have Jacob 'taking up his own cognitive duties once more' (which I think is a superbly phrased sentence, by the way!) a little earlier.

Loved the description of Jacob learning to like drinking - very vivid and authentic. One minor quibble
'Until you find yourself alone, your best friend having just died, drinking a drink that you never enjoyed'...great sentence, but the 'Until' makes it sound as if what is described before directly results in your friend dying. Something like 'So here he was alone...' might be better (does that make sense?).

When talking about Daniel's home, the phrase 'but there you go' seemed a bit casual. I'd lose this.

'the Earth’s orbit had decayed' - didn't really understand what this meant. Is decayed the right word?

‘You?’ Jacob asked, ‘aren’t “the Church”, are you? If you know what I mean?’ To be honest (and maybe I'm being thick!) I didn't really know what Jacob meant here...have I missed something?

More generally, I'm really sorry to say that I had a problem with the conversation in the limo. I admit I haven't read the previous chapters, so don't know how Jacob got to the point, but this doesn't ring true for me. It just seems a tiny bit far-fetched. Why would they call in Jacob to re-write biblical history? Surely if this were done at all it would be by someone within the Vatican. Jacob thinks 'The whole story was huge and completely ridiculous,' and you're running the risk of having your reader agree with him! The idea that Jesus lead a violent life in the army, killing and raping is HUGELY contraversial...would the church really impart this information to anyone? If someone had proof of this, surely they would expend their energies trying to supress it, rather than drawing attention to it by writing it in to the Bible. I'm afraid I didn't really buy it.

I guess what I'm saying is, to my mind, you either need to take this down a notch or two (you say the novel moves on to Africa from here - is there a way to send Jacob on his quest without it being for something quite so massive and complex?) or you need to explain this to the reader with a bit more care. You give us a massive amount of very significant information in a very short space of time. You're asking your reader to undertake an enormous suspension of disbelief, and I don't think you quite earn it enough in this chapter. Could Jacob find these things out as he goes on his quest? Could the Church send him out to collect the accounts under a false pretext or without explaining entirely their signficance?

I've really thought hard about posting these comments, as I realise I'm being very negative here and proposing some quite radical re-writes! However, I do really like the character of Jacob, and you are obviously a talented writer, it's just for me in this chapter, the plot lost me.

Once again, apologies for my negativity - drop me a line if you want me to elaborate on anything (or if you want to tell me to **** off!).


PS I wouldn't worry about comparisons with Da Vinci Code - your MC is completely distinctive. Any similarity to the Code plotwise may even work in your favour - publishers know that there is a huge market for this genre!

eanna at 12:34 on 09 January 2006  Report this post
Hi James,

I hear what your saying but I think you should read opening chapters first to see if the plot is as sudden as you think.

Thanks though, my Agent has been making a similar point.


Xena at 21:20 on 14 March 2006  Report this post
You know, I had the intention to read through your chapters without commenting on them, just like if I was reading a book, and to give you some sort of a report at the end. But I really liked this chapter and I decided to pose here.

First of all, even if this work seems to be reminiscent of the Da Vinchi Code, it is far ahead of it by its literary qualities. I tried to take notes of all the observations you've made here that appealed to me, but I lost count and gave up. So I will name just a few.

First of all - whiskey, which is not nice to drink, but universally drunk, how we're growing up imitating things just to wake up in the middle of our lives to see that we have never, in fact, enjoyed it.

I found it fascinating to watch how the trail of your character's thoughts arrived at the memory of water and the memory of everything in the universe. I love this bit. There is a very sound scientific basis for the memory of water and everything, but your character, totally unaware of it, deducts it from the droplets of whiskey, which I thought was brilliant.

Your idea about the mind being lazy to update images, I thought, was a very accurate observation. And your take on the abuse of the dominant market position in the Microsoft passage was very witty and original.


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