u/Renzom28

Just got an e-reader, and I haven't been able to actually get a book yet because it always sends me into some sort of existential crisis over whether I'm going to regret not getting the physical copy instead. For those who use both, what is your policy?

I've been thinking about outsourcing most non-fiction, especially history books, to Kindle, as well as perhaps some more contemporary novels, since paperback editions are often ugly anyway. My main motive for getting an e-reader was to avoid cluttering my bookshelf any further than it already is.

Scattered in scattered capitals,

solitary and many,

we played at being the first Adam

who gave names to things.

Down the vast slopes of night

that extend into dawn

we searched (I remember it still) for the words

of the moon, of death, of the morning,

and of the other usages of man.

We were imagism, cubism,

the conventicals and sects

that the credulous universities venerate.

We invented the lack of punctuation,

the leaving out of capital letters,

the stanzas in the form of a dove

from the libraries of Alexandria.

Ash, the work of our hands,

and the glowing fire our faith.

You, meanwhile, forged

in the cities of exile

in that exile which was

your loathed and chosen instrument,

the weapon of your art,

you raised your arduous labyrinths,

infinitesimal and infinite,

admirably ignoble,

more populous than history.

We shall have died without having made out

the biform beast or the rose

which are the center of your labyrinth,

but memory holds on to its talismans,

its Virgilian echoes,

and so in the streets of the night

your splendid infernos survive,

your many cadences and metaphors,

the gold glints of your shadow.

What does our cowardice matter if there is on earth

a single valiant man,

what does sadness matter if there was in time

somebody who called himself happy,

what does my lost generation matter,

that vague mirror, if your books justify it.

I am the others. I am all those

whom your obstinate rigor has redeemed.

I am those you do not know and those you continue to save

My summer ends, and term begins next week.

Why I am here in Bournemouth, with my aunt

And ‘Uncle Bill’, who something tells me can’t

Be really my uncle? People speak

In hushed, excited tones. Down on the beach

An aeroplane comes in low over the sea

And there’s a scattering as people reach

For towels and picnic gear and books, and flee

Towards the esplanade. Back at the hotel

We hear what the Prime Minister has said.

‘So it’s begun.’ ‘Yes, it was bound to.’ ‘Well,

Give it till Christmas.’ Later, tucked in bed,

I hear the safe sea roll and wipe away

The castles I had built in sand that day.

What in water did Bloom, waterlover, drawer of water, watercarrier, returning to the range, admire?

Its universality: its democratic equality and constancy to its nature in seeking its own level: its vastness in the ocean of Mercator’s projection: its unplumbed profundity in the Sundam trench of the Pacific exceeding 8000 fathoms: the restlessness of its waves and surface particles visiting in turn all points of its seaboard: the independence of its units: the variability of states of sea: its hydrostatic quiescence in calm: its hydrokinetic turgidity in neap and spring tides: its subsidence after devastation: its sterility in the circumpolar icecaps, arctic and antarctic: its climatic and commercial significance: its preponderance of 3 to 1 over the dry land of the globe: its indisputable hegemony extending in square leagues over all the region below the subequatorial tropic of Capricorn: the multisecular stability of its primeval basin: its luteofulvous bed: its capacity to dissolve and hold in solution all soluble substances including millions of tons of the most precious metals: its slow erosions of peninsulas and islands, its persistent formation of homothetic islands, peninsulas and downwardtending promontories: its alluvial deposits: its weight and volume and density: its imperturbability in lagoons and highland tarns: its gradation of colours in the torrid and temperate and frigid zones: its vehicular ramifications in continental lakecontained streams and confluent oceanflowing rivers with their tributaries and transoceanic currents, gulfstream, north and south equatorial courses: its violence in seaquakes, waterspouts, Artesian wells, eruptions, torrents, eddies, freshets, spates, groundswells, watersheds, waterpartings, geysers, cataracts, whirlpools, maelstroms, inundations, deluges, cloudbursts: its vast circumterrestrial ahorizontal curve: its secrecy in springs and latent humidity, revealed by rhabdomantic or hygrometric instruments and exemplified by the well by the hole in the wall at Ashtown gate, saturation of air, distillation of dew: the simplicity of its composition, two constituent parts of hydrogen with one constituent part of oxygen: its healing virtues: its buoyancy in the waters of the Dead Sea: its persevering penetrativeness in runnels, gullies, inadequate dams, leaks on shipboard: its properties for cleansing, quenching thirst and fire, nourishing vegetation: its infallibility as paradigm and paragon: its metamorphoses as vapour, mist, cloud, rain, sleet, snow, hail: its strength in rigid hydrants: its variety of forms in loughs and bays and gulfs and bights and guts and lagoons and atolls and archipelagos and sounds and fjords and minches and tidal estuaries and arms of sea: its solidity in glaciers, icebergs, icefloes: its docility in working hydraulic millwheels, turbines, dynamos, electric power stations, bleachworks, tanneries, scutchmills: its utility in canals, rivers, if navigable, floating and graving docks: its potentiality derivable from harnessed tides or watercourses falling from level to level: its submarine fauna and flora (anacoustic, photophobe), numerically, if not literally, the inhabitants of the globe: its ubiquity as constituting 90 percent of the human body: the noxiousness of its effluvia in lacustrine marshes, pestilential fens, faded flowerwater, stagnant pools in the waning moon.

Been debating getting into reading books on kindle or wherever, because I buy way too many physical books, and the idea of reading erudite books that are out-of-print appeals to me. I've been thinking about 19th century history books, like those of Carlyle especially, but I'd be generally interested in classics, whether fiction or non-fiction, that you cannot easily buy in form of Penguin or Oxford World classics. Any recommendations?

We know that the clone was created by Palpatine during the Clone Wars, and that C'Baoth arrived on Wayland in 9 ABY, where he usurped the original Guardian sent by Palpatine. That leaves a relatively long interim period. Do you think it's likely that C'Baoth spent a long period in whatever facility Palpatine kept him in? Or die he break out or was let go, afterwards doing his own thing somewhere in the Outer Rim or Unknown Regions?