Journey step started: July 28, 2026
Journey step ended: ???
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Day 1670: Jul 28, 2026
It’s a glorious day when I get to begin the next tome in my Stephen King journey! And I’ve finally, after 2 years, reached the end of The Dark Tower main saga. This ranks as the fifth longest book (by page count) in King’s bibliography, so I’ll be here for a while.
Like many, I nabbed this when it first came out in 2004, raced through to the end, and other than that now infamous ending, I remember none of it. So a new experience awaits!
𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘦.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘺𝘤𝘭𝘦
𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴.
What is this? King & sons? Or a gaggle of Kings from different ages?
The previous Dark Tower novels had R-themed subtitles:
Resumption (The Gunslinger)
Renewal (The Drawing of the Three) Redemption (The Waste Lands)
Regard (Wizard and Glass)
Resistance (Wolves of the Calla)
Reproduction (Song of Susannah)
And here is what the 7th book has drawn. Interesting… Multiple subtitles and several repeats?
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.
The book opens up with Father Callahan, Jake and Oy about to enter into The Dixie Pig to save Susannah.
𝘖𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘧𝘰𝘹𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵.
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘬.
I’ll have to refer you to the end of Song of Susannah for the gruesome description of what was ACTUALLY cooking in The Dixie Pig!
“𝘎𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯,” 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴. “𝘊𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦.”
“𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵—”
“𝘎𝘰, 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦!”
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘪𝘦 𝘗𝘪𝘨, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘰̈𝘭𝘥𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘢 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵, 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩.
“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵! 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘈𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘩 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶!”
Pere Callahan was holding the vampires and low-men at bay with his ceramic hypnotizing turtle and Roland’s voice booms out of his mouth.
Yep – a typical beginning to a Dark Tower Novel!
𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦́𝘫𝘢̀ 𝘷𝘶—𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦—𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩-𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘧𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴.
“𝘎𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦!” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥. “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶! 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶! 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘪𝘥-𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶! 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶!”
The redemptive arc of Father Callahan is so… satisfying!
𝘈𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘰. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘰̈𝘭𝘥𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘢 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘶𝘨, 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 (𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳) 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.
Whoa – this sudden fourth-wall breaking nod to IT was rather disruptive!
𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯, 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧 ’𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘮’𝘴 𝘓𝘰𝘵, 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘨𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯.
“𝘏𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥!” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸.
Fare thee well and see ye at the end of the clearing, Pere Callahan!
And with that explosive opening to The Dark Tower, I finish reading for today. I am now only 3% of the way through this novel.
Day 1671: Jul 29, 2026
Pere Callahan has met his fate at The Dixie Pig with faith and bravery while Jake and Oy ran on to rescue Susannah.
I continue reading The Dark Tower.
𝘖𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱-𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯, 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘓 𝘔𝘈𝘐𝘕𝘌 𝘗𝘖𝘞𝘌𝘙 𝘔𝘈𝘐𝘕𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴.
The POV shifts over to Roland and Eddie who are in another time and another place. I’m glad we immediately go to them instead of having to wait 100 pages or so to get there.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦-𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵…𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘰𝘰.
I was just thinking: I hope I don’t have to wait a long time for those two to get back to where Jake and Susannah are! And here we are, just a few paragraphs into this chapter, and it looks like they are deus ex todashing. And I don’t mind it one bit.
𝘈 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮, 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥.
Heck of a fantasy you’ve got there, Roland! 🤣
𝘈 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘪𝘵.
An eagle-eyed constant reader observed this word, “waseau”, and wrote:
𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘴 “𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘶,” 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘶, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥.
Roland and Eddie rode a beam wave to witness (and to some extent, interact) with Susannah, Jake and Pere Callahan over in the Dixie Pig.
It was a weird encounter, but in a huge tome of weird, I just accept it and move on.
I finish reading for today, 5% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1672: Jul 30, 2026
It turns out that an astral-projected Roland was actually communicating with Pere Callahan during his final moments as he and Eddie got caught up in some sort of todash wave.
I continue reading The Dark Tower at Part One, Ch III “Eddie Makes a Call”.
𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭-𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮—
Makes me wonder… Did anyone ever just walk into The Dixi Pig looking for a lunch to go? I mean, I stop into new places all the time.
𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘏𝘢𝘮𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥. “𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵. 𝘞𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘋𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘐𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦? 𝘞𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.”
We’re back in 1977 with the physical forms of Eddie and Roland. They’ve got this document claiming ownership of the lot with the rose and now they have to… file it?
𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳—𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦—𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘣𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰-𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘛𝘦𝘵 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 (𝘰𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦-𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢). 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦! 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 (𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘈𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘶’𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸) 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯.
From vampires to Succession, this book has got something for everyone!
𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵. 𝘗𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘶, 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘈𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘪, 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘊𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 (𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺). 𝘈𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴—𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬—𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯?
“𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵,” 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘵.”
I thought that John Collum was a rather convenient plot contrivance in Song of Susannah. Looks like King is leaning into that fact in order to help his heroes out!
I halt here mid-chapter with Eddie about to call John Cullum from a pay phone.
I am now 6% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1673: Jul 31, 2026
I’m on my fourth day with The Dark Tower VII: The Dark Tower.
I finish off Part One, Ch III “Eddie Makes a Call” where Eddie & Roland, who are back in Maine 1977, decide to give their old pal John Cullum a call to help them out with a real estate transaction.
𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘊𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮’𝘴 𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥-𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘵 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦—𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘰’𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵-𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵-𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵-𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵-𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵-𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘩𝘢𝘱—𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘺 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥.
Did they have digital voices back in 1977?
“𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘰, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴. 𝘐’𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦.”
Slightly out of character for Roland, but okay… Made my eyes stick right out of my head reading that!
𝘐𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘙𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘈𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘛𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦-𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘏𝘦’𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦—𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘦 𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦—𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳.
Eddie and Roland encounter a strange figure crossing the road.
“𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”
“𝘈𝘩, 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥.”
“𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘯𝘰𝘵. 𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵.”
“𝘍𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤!” 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘺𝘷𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘳, 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦—𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘪𝘥-𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘥, 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥.
“𝘍𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘱, 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮! 𝘖𝘯 𝘝 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘬, 𝘝 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘛—”
𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦.
Wow.
“𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦. 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.”
And with Roland’s mournful words, I stop reading here for the day. I am now 7% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1674: Aug 01, 2026
I take a short break from reading The Dark Tower to listen to Two Guys from the Dark Tower Came review these first three chapters.
In this episode, I also heard the word “tintinnabulation” for the first time!
Day 1675: Aug 02, 2026
Returning to the text of The Dark Tower.
While Pere Callahan was ending his life while being swarmed by vampires and low-men in 1999, Eddie & Roland, who are back in Maine 1977, decide to phone-a-friend in to help complete a real estate transaction.
I start on Part One, Chapter IV: Dan-Tete.
𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺’𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥, 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳.
I’m glad we’re back to Susannah, laying next to Mia, in that creepy birthing room in the back of The Dixie Pig.
𝘔𝘪𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦—𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘢, 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘢—𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘤𝘰𝘸𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨.
This horrifying depiction of labor reminds me of a recent movie which also had really disturbing scenes of childbirth.
“𝘋𝘢𝘯-𝘵𝘦𝘵𝘦,” 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘑𝘦𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬-𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳: 𝘋𝘢𝘯-𝘵𝘦𝘵𝘦…𝘥𝘢𝘯-𝘵𝘦𝘵𝘦…𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘯-𝘵𝘦𝘵𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘥.
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥.
The “coming of the little god” – what is it that Mia just gave birth to???
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯, 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘢𝘸. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩—𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩—𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘚𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱’𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘴, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵. 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.
The hell?
𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥’𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵: 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘔𝘪𝘢’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘢’𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘣.
A King-fueled nightmare!
𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘔𝘪𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳—𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢’𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭-𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘶𝘵.
“𝘐𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭?” 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥. “𝘐𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘯?”
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴.
This seems as good a place to stop as any. Let’s let that spider-baby image simmer overnight!
I am now 9% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1676: Aug 03, 2026
Finishing off Part One, Chapter IV: 𝘋𝘢𝘯-𝘛𝘦𝘵𝘦 in The Dark Tower.
Mia has finally given birth to the hideous spider-baby while Susannah looks on from the bed next to her.
“𝘐𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭?” 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥. “𝘐𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘯?”
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴.
I think Mia’s last words would’ve been the perfect ending to Song of Susannah, but who am I to question King’s editorial decisions?
…𝘔𝘪𝘢’𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘯-𝘵𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘭. 𝘐𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥-𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩.
𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘩…
What a delightful little chap Mordred is!
𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥—𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘪𝘢, 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯. 𝘚𝘢𝘺𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘱𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥.
Susannah grab a gun off of one of the creatures and is tearing into all the monsters in the room. She ended minor baddie Sayre – but she hasn’t turned the gun on spider-baby yet. Interesting…
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘮𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘺, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘈 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩-𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘪𝘥, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦.
OK – she turn her attention to it. But throughout all of this, Susannah is legless again, right? Incredible gun battle given that challenge!
“𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥?” 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮.
“𝘕𝘰, 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘮, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥,” 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦. “𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘕𝘌𝘞 𝘠𝘖𝘙𝘒 #𝟩/𝘍𝘌𝘋𝘐𝘊, 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦-𝘸𝘢𝘺.”
Ah yes, they’re not at The Dixie Pig any more.
A quick reminder of where Fedic is in the world.
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘏𝘈𝘐/𝘍𝘌𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘉𝘖𝘔𝘉𝘈𝘠/𝘍𝘌𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘋𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘈𝘚 (𝘕𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘔𝘉𝘌𝘙 𝟣𝟫𝟨𝟥)/𝘍𝘌𝘋𝘐𝘊. 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥.
𝘕𝘖𝘙𝘛𝘏 𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘓 𝘗𝘖𝘚𝘐𝘛𝘙𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘊𝘚, 𝘓𝘛𝘋.
𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘬/𝘍𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤
𝘔𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘮 𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺
That 𝘋𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘈𝘚 (𝘕𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘔𝘉𝘌𝘙 𝟣𝟫𝟨𝟥) gave me chills.
𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥. 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦. 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘺, 𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴.
I leave off here at the end of this chapter. I am now 10% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1677: Aug 04, 2026
The Kingslingers are overjoyed to review the first four chapters of The Dark Tower VII: The Dark Tower.
Day 1678: Aug 05, 2026
Finished off this episode from the Kingslingers about the first four chapters of The Dark Tower VII: The Dark Tower.
Day 1679: Aug 06, 2026
I crack open The Dark Tower at Part One: Ch V: 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘺 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦.
I don’t know who the lion is that’s sleeping tonight, but I bet I’m about to find out! So far, we’ve spent final moments with Pere Callahan, Eddie & Roland in Maine and Susannah watching Mia give birth to a demon spider baby. The only major ka-tet member we haven’t seen yet is Jake (and Oy!)
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘖𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘦.
Good – as predicted, we’re back to Jake!
𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘢 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘵-𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘥.
The first thing we see Jake do is kill a cat?
…𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯. 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘺, 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮’𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦.
Jake Chambers, Riza-slinger.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺-𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘛 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘕𝘌𝘞 𝘠𝘖𝘙𝘒 𝘚𝘖𝘜𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘐𝘙𝘚 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘝𝘐𝘚𝘐𝘛 𝘚𝘌𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘔𝘉𝘌𝘙 𝟣𝟣, 𝟤𝟢𝟢𝟣! 𝘛𝘐𝘟 𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘈𝘝𝘈𝘐𝘓𝘈𝘉𝘓𝘌 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘞𝘖𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙𝘍𝘜𝘓 𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘛! 𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘏𝘔𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘊𝘚 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘏𝘐𝘉𝘐𝘛𝘌𝘋 𝘞/𝘖 𝘋𝘙’𝘚 𝘊𝘌𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘍𝘐𝘊𝘈𝘛𝘌! 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘚𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝟣𝟣𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝟤𝟢𝟢𝟣 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.
No words.
𝘖𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴.
“Furry little buns” was not a phrase I’d ever expect from a King novel. And this is the same guy who once wrote “delectable set of jahoobies”.
𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘪. 𝘛𝘸𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘏𝘈𝘐𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘙𝘐𝘔𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘐’𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘉𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘖 𝘚𝘒𝘈𝘕𝘒, ’𝟪𝟦. 𝘔𝘢𝘯, 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.
Was recently listening to a King podcast where the hosts were trying to recall every instance where “Bango Skank” popped up.
𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘥, 𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺. 𝘈 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘈𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵.
As they follow Susannah’s scented trail, Jake notices a distinct change in the subterranean city tunnel they’ve been traveling.
𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 (𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵. 𝘈 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.
A dinosaur? What the hell???
And with that record-scratch of a drop, I end reading today and will have to learn more about the dinosaur in this book tomorrow.
I am now 12% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1680: Aug 07, 2026
I spend some quality time with The Dark Tower today as I finish off this lengthy chapter, Part One: Ch V: 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘺 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦.
When we last left Jake, he had just walked out of a lengthy, fluorescent-lit tunnel under New York City and into a jungle with a FREAKIN’ DINOSAUR!
This chapter opens with a stream-of-consciousness flashback into Jake’s earlier childhood of watching dinosaur movies on TV and being terrified of them, especially this one that he watched almost daily.
𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙-𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙥, 𝘑𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘶𝘳—𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯—𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥-𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱.
And disappointingly, we discover that this was all in his mind.
“𝘖𝘺, 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦?”
𝘐𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥.
Now THAT’S interesting! Body-swapping with a billy-bumbler!
𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦-𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘬𝘦’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘺.
A real dinosaur would’ve been more practical than this Freaky-Friday plot device.
𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥. 𝘈 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥-𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱. 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘠𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺? 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦?
“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳,” 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.”
𝘐𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥. “𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵.”
Reminds me of the South Park “Imagination” song.
𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘳. 𝘈 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳. 𝘈𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵, 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘖𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
I bet ka-to-donuts that Susannah is indeed on the other side of this door.
“𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦! 𝘐𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘦?”
Knew it!
…𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯-𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳-𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘧𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳.
Jake gets the password-locked door open and is pulled through by Susannah into Fedic. And that is where I leave the story today.
I am now 14% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1681: Aug 08, 2026
I continue reading The Dark Tower today as I turn to Part One: Ch VI: 𝘖𝘯 𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘦.
We switch back to Eddie and Roland who are in Maine, 1977, on a quest to complete a real estate transaction.
𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘉𝘌𝘊𝘒𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘋𝘛, 𝟣𝟥, 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬’𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵-𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘣𝘦𝘥, 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬.
The obligatory “blue chambray shirt” reference!
“𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘌𝘭𝘥𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘰𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘈𝘶𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰. 𝘚𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦… 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘐 𝘣’𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥—𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘈𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘪?”
I’m really starting to get tired of hearing this guy’s name pop up in this series.
“𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮. 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 ’𝘶𝘯. 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬.”
𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘏𝘦’𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯—𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴—𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥’𝘴 𝟣𝟫𝟩𝟩, 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮.”
“𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘴?” 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥.
“𝘈𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥.
Old Mainer, John Cullum, gets an earful from Eddie of their entire story so far.
I finish reading for today of what was a rather chatty chapter, consisting primarily of Eddie and Roland debriefing their buddy John Collum on his mission to deliver the deed to the lot with the rose to Susannah’s uncle Moses in NYC.
I am now 16% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1682: Aug 09, 2026
Finishing off Part One: Ch VI: 𝘖𝘯 𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘦 in The Dark Tower.
Roland and Eddie talk to their Maine buddy John Cullum about the quest to NYC they want him to take. Roland even gives him the necklace sigul that he received from the old fold of the River Crossing back in The Waste Lands.
“𝘞𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴.” 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧𝘧. “𝘔𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵. 𝘔𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴. 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘭. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯’𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸—𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵—𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘫𝘰𝘣𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦: 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵. 𝘖𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢. 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴…” 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘴.”
John Cullum understood the assignment!
𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝟣𝟫𝟪𝟫—𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘐𝘉𝘔, 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳-𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘴) 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦-𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢 𝘌𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘋𝘦𝘭𝘩𝘪, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥).
I think there’s a whole series of novels to be had detailing the business growth and various plotlines of the growth of the Tet Corporation.
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦-𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘬𝘦. 𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 (𝘊𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮’𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘶𝘱 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨), 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦: 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮’𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥, 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦.
𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘳𝘶𝘯. 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.
John Cullum brough them to a magic door in the woods of Maine and headfirst Roland and Eddie went.
I now enter into Part One, Ch VII: 𝘙𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘺. 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘺’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘢𝘮𝘭𝘢’𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘥. 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘺’𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯. 𝘚𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘢 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘭𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘴.
Eddie and Roland dropped right into the hallway in which the bad guys were chasing Jake!
𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦-𝘵𝘰-𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘢. 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦.
“𝘏𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥.
“𝘏𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.”
“𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰?”
𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥. “𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺.”
“𝘚𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥.
Beautiful!
𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥.
𝘌𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘔𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦.
And with those beautiful words, I finish reading for today. I am now 17% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1683: Aug 10, 2026
Two Guys to the Dark Tower Came review Part One of The Dark Tower.
Day 1684: Aug 11, 2026
Kingslingers delivers a second episode in their read-along series of The Dark Tower.
Day 1686: Aug 13, 2026
Radio Free Mid-World had a rather humorous episode regarding Part One of The Dark Tower. They made a very valid point questioning why Roland and Eddie lost their clothes when they got caught up in the Beam wave, while all the crap in the car (peanuts, coins, etc) floated around them. What happened to their own belt buckles, pocket lint, etc??? 😂
Day 1687: Aug 14, 2026
I am back to the text of The Dark Tower. The ka-tet has reunited at long last in the dead city of Fedic. Spider-baby Mordred is running around. And the story now stands at a great reset with no obvious challenge to overcome or situation to shoot their way out of.
Now the quest to the titular Dark Tower continues.
𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. “𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘳-𝘵𝘦𝘵𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”
“𝘋𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘳-𝘵𝘦𝘵𝘦,” 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. […] “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?”
𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘴, 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘮𝘦𝘵-𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦; 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥. “𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦-𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳.”
Oh yeah – I bet they have a lot of catching up to do!
𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘔𝘪𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘻𝘢-𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘪𝘦 𝘗𝘪𝘨. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘫𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘖𝘹𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥, 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘛𝘝 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘵 𝘏𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘦, 𝘍𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘔𝘤𝘎𝘦𝘦: 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘔𝘤𝘈𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵.
Song of Susannah ended with the obituary of Stephen King. So we know that saving him is going to be at least one plotline in this story.
𝘏𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵?”
After a couple of subsections of catching up, they arrive at the question I opened up with today.
“𝘞𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦. 𝘞𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘰𝘳 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘨, 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭, 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦?”
“𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘢?” 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳. “𝘞𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘦?”
“𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘰, 𝘺𝘦𝘴,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “Le Casse Roi Russe, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵. 𝘞𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘢-𝘵𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.”
“𝘍𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝟣, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝟤. “𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘢, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.
[…]
“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢 𝘰𝘯𝘦-𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦,” 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝟤 𝘵𝘰 𝟥, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
[…]
“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘍𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.”
“𝘈𝘺𝘦, 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥. “𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘺𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘳-𝘵𝘰𝘪—𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘦’𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝟪—𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨.”
“𝘞𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦…”
With the next plotline established, I end reading for today. I am now 19% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1688: Aug 15, 2026
Once reunited, the ka-tet decides that the next course of action is to return to Thunderclap and free the poor kids who were captured, taken there, and “roont” with some sort of brain-sucking device.
I turn open to Part Two, Ch II: The Watcher.
“𝘎𝘔𝘚 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘴,” 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘭. “𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭. 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺. 𝘈𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘨 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘐’𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘡𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘣𝘺 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢.”
Nigel the Android dropping some mind-blowing references here.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴, 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘴. 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳-𝘣𝘦𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘈𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳: 𝟣𝟫𝟫𝟫. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.
A library in Mid-World’s Fedic that I would covet!
𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 (𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯) 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘺.
That’s some new information. Didn’t realize Mordred shifted between forms.
𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝟣𝟨 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘖𝘕𝘛𝘙𝘖𝘓 𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘌𝘙 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭. 𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯! 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯.
“mating with machinery”???
𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝟤-𝟧-𝟦-𝟣-𝟥-𝟣-𝟤-𝟣, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵
Which adds up to…
𝘏𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯. 𝘈 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥-𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘸 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘰-𝘩𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘳, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘯, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘪𝘥-𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺-𝘣𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘵.
Mordred eating a billy-bumbler for lunch? That’s cruel, sai King. Very cruel!
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘪𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴, 𝘺𝘢𝘳, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱.
Not feeling a ton of sympathy for Mordred, I tell ya.
𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 Prim 𝘢𝘯𝘥 Am, 𝘰𝘧 gadosh 𝘢𝘯𝘥 godosh, 𝘰𝘧Gan 𝘢𝘯𝘥 Gilead.
And of OshKosh and B’gosh.
I finish reading today with Mordred watching the sleeping ka-tet from a control room with TV monitors, ruminating on his two fathers (Roland and The Crimson King).
I am now 21% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1689: Aug 16, 2026
Mordred helped himself to a billy-bumbler sandwich while observing the kat-tet on the TV monitors.
I now open The Dark Tower at Part Two, Ch III: The Shining Wire.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥. 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥.
…
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘜.𝘚. 𝘈𝘙𝘔𝘠 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥—𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘦-𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘰-𝘩𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦: 𝘙𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘍𝘓𝘈𝘎𝘎.
Here, at the very end, Flagg is found! But I knew he had to make an appearance eventually
𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭…𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳—𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮—𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯.
So King is one of the creatures. Who is the other?
𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘯’𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘢…𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘴…𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘺𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘙𝘦𝘥 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨…
𝘐𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘭𝘦…𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳…
𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘭𝘭?
So Mordred is the other creature that can unlock the tower and Flagg has plans to use its lopped off foot to do so? What craziness is this?
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬-𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵-𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭, 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦…𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴.
𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦.
Mordred’s human part may still be in the baby stage, but he’s got some eerily strong powers already.
𝘐𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥-𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘴, 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺.
Mordred looks at the great and might Walter (Flagg) as nothing more than a lunch plate.
And with that delightful thought, I finish reading for today. I am now 22% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1690: Aug 17, 2026
Walter O’Dim (aka Randall Flagg) drops in on Mordred and the two strike up an immediate friendship – the kind that want to kill each other as soon as possible for their own personal reasons.
I finish off Part Two, Ch III: The Shining Wire in The Dark Tower.
𝙄 𝙗𝙚 𝙖-𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙮, 𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙖-𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙮, 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘢 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙄’𝙙 𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧, 𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙧. 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨, 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠. 𝙂𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚.
𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘶𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘱. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘵.
And this is how Randall Flagg, the prime mover in The Stand, meets his ignominious end?
𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰’ 𝘋𝘪𝘮—𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰’ 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬—𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴.
Walter O’Dark! My God!
𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘨, 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰’ 𝘋𝘪𝘮, 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘗𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.
𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘧 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵?
𝙉𝙤𝙬, 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚, 𝙄 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘶𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘣. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺—𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘭𝘥—𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵, 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.
I now enter into the relatively short Chapter IV: The Door into Thunderclap.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘋𝘳. 𝘋𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴; 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘴. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘭 𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯, 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘓𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴.
The ka-tet got on some sort of transport mechanism that took them out of Fedic, making them completely nauseous. At then end of their trip:
𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴, 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘥𝘥, 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦-𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰.
…
𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵.
“𝘉𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺?” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳. “𝘔𝘺 𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘉𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘎𝘢𝘳𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥?”
Now, who Bobby Garfield is and why the old stranger thought Jake was him will have to wait for another day.
But for now, I’m 24% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1691: Aug 18, 2026
I take a pause the reading to listen to Two Guys to the Dark Tower Came review The Dark Tower, Part Two, Ch I – IV.
Day 1692: Aug 19, 2026
I listen to the first half of The Kingslingers‘ take on the beginning of Part Two of The Dark Tower.
Day 1693: Aug 20, 2026
There was a lot to unpack in these past few chapters of The Dark Tower and The Kingslingers‘ helped me catch some things I originally missed! I finished off this episode today.
Day 1694: Aug 21, 2026
Roland and gang are headed to Devar-Toi to release or otherwise stop the Beam Breakers with Mordred (the Dark Man slayer) on their heels.
When I last left the ka-tet, they had encountered a few, supposedly friendly men, one of whom claims to recognize Jake, but with a different name!
I start reading The Dark Tower at Part Two, Chapter V: Steek-Tete.
“𝘛𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦,” 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. “𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰.”
I have a feeling that “Ted” is going to be another character from another King novel. There aren’t too many Teds in Mid-World, I think.
“𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘯? 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰. 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘴. 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬. 𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘵. 𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮. 𝘐𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.”
While running through some massive complex, Eddie noted all of the human skeletons strewn about. This was Ted’s explanation.
“𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴.” 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱 𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘰𝘯. 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺; 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬. “𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘬-𝘛𝘦𝘵𝘦.”
“𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘕𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘦,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥.
“𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨.”
“Look yonder, gunslingers.” Ted pointed to a sharp upthrust of rock on the horizon. Susannah could make it out easily; in this dark countryside all horizons seemed close. She could see nothing remarkable about it, though, only folds of deeper shadow and sterile slopes of tumbled rock. “That’s Can Steek-Tete.”
In the passage above, Ted is an older man with a white beard. Susannah is a black woman with legs that stop just above her knees (a result of a birth defect – nothing violent). She is being carried on the back of her husband, a young man in his mid-20s.
𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴—𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴—𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘺 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘈𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘮’𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢, 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘷𝘺. 𝘕𝘰, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘹.
𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵. 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘥𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘴, 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘦.
“𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩,” 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘋𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘳-𝘛𝘰𝘪.” 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. “𝘚𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦? 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯-𝘵𝘰𝘪 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘯-𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘺𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘳-𝘛𝘰𝘪, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘈𝘭𝘨𝘶𝘭 𝘚𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴—”
“𝘉𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺: 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘴. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘕𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘉𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘬𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘴.
I stop reading here on the doorsteps of 𝘋𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘳-𝘛𝘰𝘪. I am now 26% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1695: Aug 22, 2026
New-found buddies, Ted, Stanley and Dink bring Roland and the ka-tet to the brink of “good old Devar-Toi” where the Breakers are doing their thing to break the Beams.
These new allies come with their own set of spooky powers and I’m looking forward to hearing some explanations!
Today, I finish reading The Dark Tower, Part Two, Chapter V: Steek-Tete.
“𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴,” 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸.”
“𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺?” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥.
“𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥,” 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥.
Honestly, I’m surprised it wasn’t nineteen.
“𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯-𝘵𝘰𝘪 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘹𝘺. 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳-𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘔𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥, 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘵. 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 ’𝟤𝟢, 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘚𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺, 𝘋𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘊𝘭𝘶𝘣, 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥—𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦!—𝘗𝘩𝘪 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘢 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳.”
So the Breakers have 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 agency. Didn’t expect that.
𝘕𝘰, 𝘯𝘰, 𝘤𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘰𝘯,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘵. 𝘋𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘦𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴?”
𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘣𝘸𝘦𝘣 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴. “𝘐𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘪𝘵?”
So.. I thought the kidnapped kids 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 the Breakers themselves. Instead, their essence is extracted to 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 the Breakers???
So who is this Ted Brautigan? Since I won’t be reading these books yet for quite a while, I looked him up.
While I’m at it, here’s who Dinky is.
Stanley, though? No mention.
𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳; 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴. 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸’𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘈𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘺’𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥.
𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬. 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦.
“𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭’𝘦𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦?” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦. “𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭’𝘦𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰, 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘺? 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴?”
“𝘈𝘺𝘦,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳. “𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭; 𝘉𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘵𝘰𝘰. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭-𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘞𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭-𝘮𝘦𝘵, 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘺. 𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦.”
And with THAT very emotional reunion, I stop reading for today. I am now 27% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1696: Aug 23, 2026
An emotional reunion with a character from Wizard and Glass brought a great twist to the plot.
I open The Dark Tower at Part Two, Chapter VI: The Master of Blue Heaven.
𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳, 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘹-𝘵𝘸𝘰, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘱 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘺. 𝘏𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘺 (𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯-𝘵𝘰𝘪). 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰; 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.
Given the last few scenes, I automatically have to wonder if Pimli Prentiss is a character from another book who was sucked into this world.
“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨?” 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘭’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴.
I really hope to see a Dark Tower adaptation with a good rendition of these taheen.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 (𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘺), 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘗𝘪𝘮𝘭𝘪 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘢-𝘵𝘦𝘵. 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴.
Normally, I’d be annoyed by this character detour, but we’ll see if something’s interesting.
𝘐𝘯 𝟣𝟫𝟩𝟢, 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘈𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢…, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦:
𝘞𝘈𝘕𝘛𝘌𝘋: 𝘌𝘟𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘕𝘊𝘌𝘋 𝘊𝘖𝘙𝘙𝘌𝘊𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘖𝘍𝘍𝘐𝘊𝘌𝘙
𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘏𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘓𝘠 𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘗𝘖𝘕𝘚𝘐𝘉𝘓𝘌 𝘗𝘖𝘚𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕
𝘐𝘕 𝘗𝘙𝘐𝘝𝘈𝘛𝘌 𝘐𝘕𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘛𝘜𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕
𝘏𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘗𝘢𝘺! 𝘛𝘰𝘱 𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘴! 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘉𝘦 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭!
No, Prentiss’s backstory was not particularly interesting. He responded to an ad in the New York Time and then ended up as warden of Devar-Toi. 🤷🏼
“𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯.” 𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳. “𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦.”
“𝘈𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦,” 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺. 𝘏𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘯. 𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦. 𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦—𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘶𝘴—𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯-𝘪𝘯-𝘵𝘩𝘦-𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦.”
Now as for Dinky’s back story? That indeed would be interesting to hear.
…𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘬𝘴. 𝘚𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢-𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯.
𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥…𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.
𝘏𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘪 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.
𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘪 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦. “𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘶𝘴,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥.
“𝘊𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘰𝘯?”
“𝘈 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘶𝘴.”
But the rest of us… WE know what really happened, don’t we?
“𝘚𝘢𝘪 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮.”
Not much in this chapter other than a lengthy conversation between Finli and Prentiss and a walk around the campus.
So I leave reading for the day. I am no 29% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1697: Aug 24, 2026
The POV changed to those in charge of Devar-Toi (aka “Blue Heaven” aka “Algul Siento”): A weasel-headed taheen named Finli and a human warden named Pimli.
Finli and Pimli: One could be forgiven for thinking we’ve landed back in the Shire.
I resume reading The Dark Tower, Part Two, Ch VI: “The Master of Blue Heaven”.
“𝘊𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘓𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩, 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯’𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘥 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘯-𝘛𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘴 ‘𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘵.’ 𝘚𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳-𝘮𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵.”
Interesting perspective from Finli the weasel taheen.
𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰-𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘧𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘤 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬.
Ahhh.. Sheemie’s (Stanley’s) special gift!
…𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘺. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 “𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥” 𝘬𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥-𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴… 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧-𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯’𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘣 𝘪𝘯 𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯. 𝘚𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘴, 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 (𝘰𝘢𝘬-𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦). 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘢 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳…𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘢 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘢. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘶𝘷𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘒𝘦𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩.
The 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 Mona Lisa? This made me kinda mad!
𝘗𝘪𝘮𝘭𝘪 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘤 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘵𝘰𝘰, 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘨𝘶𝘭, 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘌𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤. 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘛𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦. 𝘛𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯. 𝘛𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯.
A dark & poetic description of the Breakers’ work.
Ted Brautigan, the most powerful of the breakers, walked into the room and King drops hints that Ted is up to something.
But I’ll have to learn what that is later as I finish reading for today. I am now 30% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1698: Aug 25, 2026
After a lengthy tour of Devar-Toi from the point of view of its warden and security chief, we focused again on the mysterious Ted Brautigan – the most powerful Breaker of them all and one who seems to be in opposition to the mission of The Crimson King.
I turn to The Dark Tower, Part Two, Ch VII: “Ka-Shume”.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦. 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦.
And this most definitely is telegraphing that something TERRIBLE is going to happen between them… again.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴: 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘬𝘢-𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘦-𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘬𝘢-𝘵𝘦𝘵.
Now 𝘐’𝘮 feeling a bit of that ka-shume blueness too…
“𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦-𝘭𝘪𝘥,” 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦; 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨-𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥:
𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝟦𝟦𝟫𝙩𝙝 𝙎𝙌𝙐𝘼𝘿𝙍𝙊𝙉
𝟤𝟦 “𝙎𝙉𝙀𝙀𝙏𝘾𝙃𝙀𝙎”
𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙔 𝙋𝙊𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙈𝙊𝘿𝙀𝙇
𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝘼𝙇 #𝟦𝟨𝟧-𝟣𝟩-𝘾𝘾 𝙉𝘿𝙅𝙆𝙍
“𝘿𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙈𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝟦𝟦𝟫!”
𝙒𝙚’𝙡𝙡 𝙆𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 “𝙎𝙡𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣” 𝙊𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪!
𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘵𝘶𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨. “𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯-𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱. 𝘉𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 ’𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬?”
With all of the sketch-maps in this book, I sometimes feel like I’m in the middle of a D&D game.
“𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘩?” 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦.
“𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘥𝘰.”
“𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘩𝘦𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳?”
“𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦.” 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘒𝘢-𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘦, 𝘢 𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.
“𝘋𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘯.”
𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧, 𝘥𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴.
“𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘱, 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦, 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵.
“𝘞𝘩𝘺…𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘵𝘰𝘰,” 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮. “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘵.”
“𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘥. 𝘐𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. “𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘢-𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘢-𝘵𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴…𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦, 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘩𝘦𝘧. ’𝘛𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰.”
And one by one, Roland does the same with each member of the ka-tet. We’ve got a Last Supper moment happening here.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦. “𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘩?”
“𝘠𝘦𝘴,” 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘳; 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘺. “𝘒𝘢-𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘪𝘵? 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦?”
“𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘯𝘰𝘵,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥
𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘙𝘦𝘥 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘴, 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘖𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘶.
And with that sudden shift to Mordred’s POV, I finish reading for the day. I am now 32% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1699: Aug 26, 2026
Taking a break from reading The Dark Tower to listen to this Kingslingers episode.
Day 1700: Aug 27, 2026
Finishing off this episode from Kingslingers.
Day 1701: Aug 28, 2026
I return to The Dark Tower with Part Two, Ch VIII “The Gingerbread House”.
Roland and the ka-tet have shared a final meal (or a final drink of water anyway) before heading into Devar-Toi where the Beam Breakers are.
𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘗𝘓𝘈𝘠 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘶𝘯…𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦…𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘶𝘯…𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦…𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵, 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴
That’s right. Good ole Ted left them a long audio book of explanations. I wonder if we’re going to get the unedited version of those four hours of recordings.
“𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪’-𝘥𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 ‘𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘵.’ 𝘚𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩!”
I can’t wait to be reintroduced to Ted Brautigan again when I read Hearts in Atlantis.
“𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳; 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦. 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘎𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦—𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘰 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺-𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴— 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘪𝘻 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘦𝘫𝘪𝘴.”
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘢 𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘈𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘥 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯.
That short sentence tells us so much about Ted’s backstory (which is coming up).
“𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦,” 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘯. “𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥—𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥—𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯. 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘈𝘳𝘮𝘺 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘮𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵.”
Fascinating – never heard a story of a telepath attempting to VOLUNTEER for the US Army!
I stop reading today with Ted recounting how, as a young man, he accidently psychically killed a mugger and understood the power he possessed.
I’ll pick back up with this weird-ass chapter tomorrow. I am now 34% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1702: Aug 29, 2026
I’m in the middle of Ted Brautigan’s backstory which takes place in the WWI era. He’s a powerful psychic who was rejected by US Army doctors who refused to accept that someone like him could even exist.
I return to Part Two, Ch VIII “The Gingerbread House” in The Dark Tower.
𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥-𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯-𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.
𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.
From Carrie to Firestarter to Dead Zone… Stephen King really wanted to be a writer for the X-Men comics.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴—𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘺𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨—𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢-𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 (𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘺 𝘶𝘱, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘺, 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩-𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘻𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸’𝘴 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘵-𝘨𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴?
“Snot-gutters” 🤣
“𝘉𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸. 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘞𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘐𝘈 𝘰𝘳 𝘍𝘉𝘐, 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤. 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺.
“𝘈𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦, ‘𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘳, 𝘛𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘺.”
The Crimson King actually had a recruitment operation here on “Keystone Earth”. Like a Cutco knives operation.
“𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵-𝘥𝘰𝘨𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦…𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘭, 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐.
𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯—𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦—𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴, “𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦-𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦,” 𝘢𝘴 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺 (𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴). 𝘕𝘰, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘵, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘨𝘶𝘭 𝘚𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦, 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘤𝘻𝘦𝘮𝘢, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘬𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘱 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥.
𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭.
With that headscratcher (pun intended), I finish for today. I’m 36% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1703: Aug 30, 2026
Ted Brautigan’s backstory deserved its own novella in one of King’s short story collections. And as interesting as it is, it feels like its brought the quest for the Tower to a grinding halt.
I’m on my third day with Part Two, Ch VIII “The Gingerbread House” in The Dark Tower.
“𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘰𝘧, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘴.”
I wonder if there’s a deeper meaning there? I mean, if anything, the Breakers were 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 the Empire, you know?
“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘈𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘹 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘵—𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳-𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦—𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘨𝘶𝘺-𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳. 𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘞𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦—𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘬’𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮—𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝘞𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘧—𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮.”
As good a time for a plot summary as any.
“𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘴’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘺, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳. 𝘐’𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘬’𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘬’𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘎𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘎𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘌𝘺𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘌𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥.”
Seems important.
𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵.
So the hours of tapes of Ted Brautgan yapping away, including his realization that Stephen King (a human guardian of the Beam) is on the Crimson’s King’s assassination list, was completely overheard by spider-Mordred.
And what will or even can Mordred do with this juicy gossip?
Ted’s final tape runs out and so does my energy for today.
I am now 37% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1704: Aug 31, 2026
I finish off The Dark Tower, Part Two, Ch VIII “The Gingerbread House”.
For many pages now, Roland and the ka-tet listened to hours of Ted Brautigan’s tape recordings in which he spoke not only of his personal story, but everything he knows of the Devar-Toi prison, the Breakers and heck, even of The Dark Tower itself.
“𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵,” 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘦 𝟣𝟫𝘵𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺—𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺—𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘢𝘱𝘶𝘵. 𝘎𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘥. 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘬’𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘥.” 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘦, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦. “𝘐𝘵’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬.”
The ka-tet spent some time playing numerology and came up with the date when Stephen King was struck by the van: June 19, 1999.
“𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘬𝘢,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘺—𝘬𝘢-𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘩𝘢𝘱—𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦.”
“𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?” 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥.
“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴.”
Super-Sheemie to the plot rescue!
Only a short reading period today as I finally wrapped up this chapter.
I am now 38% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Which leaves me time to listen to this episode from Two Guys to the Dark Tower Came!
Day 1705: Sep 1, 2026
Continuing with The Dark Tower, Part Two Ch IX: Tracks on the Path.
The rather lengthy previous chapter was all about Ted Brautigan’s great adventure, his super-powers and how he is the most powerful Breaker of them all. Roland and the ka-tet listened to his words play on a tape recording while Mordred the spider-demon lurked outside of their cave dwelling and heard every last word.
𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩. “𝘖𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦?”
𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥.
“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥. “𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸-𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘥.”
“𝘚𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵.”
𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥. “𝘈 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.”
Call me “woke” but the idea of handing a kid tobacco bothered me!
“𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴. 𝘏𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦.” 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥. “𝘐𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥.”
“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨?”
𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘣 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵: 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩.
“𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳,” 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”
“𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦; 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦; 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦.”
Stop the Breakers; save Sai King.
This will occupy most of the book, I think.
𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳? 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮?”
𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦; 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴. “𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘫𝘰𝘣𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘪 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥
…
𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦, 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘻𝘺, 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘵𝘰𝘰.”
That’s some deep self-criticism from King.
𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘗𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘩. 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘯-𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘢𝘴-𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.
“𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰! 𝘐’𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦-𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘎𝘢𝘮𝘳𝘺 𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘎𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘞𝘢𝘭-𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘉𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘺’𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴! 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘢𝘮𝘳𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺! 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘪𝘵? 𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴?”
“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱,” 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥
King was quite prescient about how fucking annoying it is to put “AI assistants” in every goddamned thing!
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘈 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘉𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘸, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘪𝘻 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥.
Soon after this, Sheemie starts having a seizure so I figure it’s a great time to end my reading for today. I am now 39% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1706: Sep 2, 2026
Continuing with The Dark Tower, Part Two Ch X: The Last Palaver (Sheemie’s Dream).
I don’t like the name of this chapter “Last Palaver”! I still have about two months to go in this book, but the finality of this lengthy journey is starting to hit me!
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘪𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘑𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘺. 𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴-𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦; 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘬𝘦𝘥.
What the hell kind of high school field trip idea was that?
“𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘥,” 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴?”
𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥, 𝘨𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳. “𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘢𝘦. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.”
“𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵,” 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵.”
…
“𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵,” 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴?”
“𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴,” 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘭𝘺. “𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯.” 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘴𝘬𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. “𝘉𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘬.”
“𝘐𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦? 𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘪𝘵?”
Poor Sheemie! But they NEED his teleportation skills!
“𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭,” 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, “𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰.” 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘔𝘦𝘫𝘪𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
Just as their about to put Sheemie to service again, I stop reading here for the day. I am now 40% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1707: Sep 3, 2026
Finishing off The Dark Tower, Part Two Ch X: The Last Palaver (Sheemie’s Dream).
We left the gang with Sheemie recovering from a seizure (brought on by his use of his teleportation powers). We also learned that Sheemie suffers brain trauma every time he teleports and they estimate he only has a few attempts left before it kills him.
And of course, Roland & gang need Sheemie to complete their tasks of stopping the Breakers and saving Stephen King.
“𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳,” 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥.
…
“𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘫𝘰𝘣𝘴. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘈 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰’𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘦’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴.” 𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘥𝘥: “𝘖𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵.”
…
“𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵?”
Jake thought it a good idea to let Sheemie decide their course of action.
‘𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬…𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴…𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦…𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘢𝘴𝘬.’
Sheemie told them of a dream he had where he was visited by an avatar of The Tower.
𝘚𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺, “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮, 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦?”
𝘈𝘴 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥, 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘏𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵.
“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯, 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥?” 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥.
“𝘐𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴: 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴; 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘗𝘪𝘮𝘭𝘪 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥. 𝘐𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵, 𝘸𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘐𝘧 𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭, 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭.”
It’s kinda shocking that Roland seems to have forgotten that Mordred is out there; having discover his spider leg tracks in the dirt outside the cave. Seems like he’s not worried in the least bit that his demon-spawn could interrupt these plans.
Roland shares his plans for the attack on the Devar-Toi and thus ends the chapter.
I am now 42% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1708: Sep 4, 2026
Taking a short break from the book to listen to the Kingslingers discuss Ted Brautigan’s back story, Sheemie’s powers, and the ka-tet’s new missions.
Day 1709: Sep 5, 2026
Finished off this episode from Kingslingers discussing several chapters from The Dark Tower.
In a chilling moment, they recounted how Scott Wampler (formerly of The Kingcast, RIP) stated that he held a few books back from reading so that he would have something of King’s to enjoy after the master of horror had passed.
But Wampler tragically died young, having never experienced those books.
Day 1710: Sep 6, 2026
I return to the written pages of The Dark Tower as Roland and the ka-tet (as well as a Sheemie and a few of his friends) are ready to drop in on the Devar-Toi (or Algul Siento or Blue Heaven) to stop the Breakers from destroying one of the few remaining beams of the Tower.
Googling led me to this one-hour+ long song made up of a single tone sound. Will this be the soundtrack to today’s reading?
No.
More absolute music, this time a held-tone wall using predominantly Waldorf software synthesizers. A dense patch in Largo (Waldorf’s earliest VST adjacent to their Blofeld synthesizer – don’t tell Ian Fleming), using all twelve available voices (eight of which being wavetables) with each voice frequency modulating itself to some degree.
“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘑𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘺?” 𝘗𝘪𝘮𝘭𝘪 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 .𝟦𝟢 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭.
That last sentence segment, with an inserted thought from the narrator, was very distracting!
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘵, 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦.
I don’t even want to summarize the context behind this. It just reminds me that in addition to gore and body horror, King is also good at delivering the just plain gross for grossness sake.
𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴. 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘴. 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝘈𝘙-𝟣𝟧, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬. 𝘐𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯.
In typical King fashion, we’re going to have a lot of tension buildup prior to the big action sequence, and then BAM – it’ll be over almost as soon as its begun.
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦. “𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦! 𝘐’𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳—”
“𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. 𝘋𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 “𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦-𝘦𝘭𝘧,” 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵.
It was a bit to get accustomed to the “sneetches” bleedover from the Harry Potter universe. But this is a bit much!
𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘺—𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺—𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘺. 𝘛𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦-𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.
The pre-attack has begun with the sneetches that had been strategically hidden throughout the compound causing fires across several buildings.
With the chaos starting, I finish reading for the day. I am now 43% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1711: Sep 7, 2026
In Wolves of the Calla, the gunslingers established a solid defense of Calla Bryn Sturgis.
Here, in The Dark Tower, they have gone on the offense, taking on the very facility whose purpose is to break the Beams and topple the Tower.
Today I’m reading 12 short & fast-paced subsections of Part Two, Ch XI: The Attack on Algul Siento.
“𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘦!” 𝘛𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥. “𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘦!”
𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘦? 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘗𝘪𝘮𝘭𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺—
“𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘮,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘪. “𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦—”
𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘧 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯’𝘴 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦.
The chaos has begun.
𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯. 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴’ 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘢 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵? 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘺? 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘳, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘭𝘨𝘶𝘭 𝘚𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰…
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢 ’𝘙𝘪𝘻𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦’𝘴 𝘥𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥, 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰.
The tension building in this chapter!
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘶𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭, 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥-𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦.
Susannah with the first shots fired!
𝘙𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥
(𝙂𝙊 𝙎𝙊𝙐𝙏𝙃 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙃𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙎 𝙐𝙋, 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝙊𝙉’𝙏 𝘽𝙀 𝙃𝙐𝙍𝙏)
𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘸. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘷𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦.
Roland and Jake have entered the chat!
𝘈𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺… 𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦, 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥: 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘪 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦-𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢
Just occurred to me – were there only American Breakers? Why not Chinese or Australian or Uruguayan Breakers?
𝘚𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘥.
And on that ominous note, I finish reading for today. I will conclude this chapter tomororrow morning.
I am now 45% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1712: Sep 8, 2026
I finish off Part Two, Ch XI: The Attack on Algul Siento in The Dark Tower.
The action has been furious! Susannah the sniper has taken out several taheen and low-men. Roland and Jake have stormed the compound with Oriza plates. Inside, Ted and Dinky are telepathically guiding the Breakers to safety.
Everything seems to be going the good guys’ way! Which can only mean…
And here’s the soundtrack to today’s reading!
“𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘯𝘰,” 𝘗𝘪𝘮𝘭𝘪 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘪, 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯—𝘉𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦—𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬’𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘭𝘪 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘬𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘵 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘮, “𝘈𝘊𝘊𝘐𝘋𝘌𝘕𝘛! 𝘕𝘖𝘛𝘐𝘍𝘠 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕! 𝘈𝘊𝘊𝘐𝘋𝘌𝘕𝘛!”
A previously unknown robot fire response system caused more damage and fatalities in Devar-Toi than the kat-tet could every have hoped to do on their own.
Deus ex stupid machina here?
𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥-𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘸. 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩.
The mind-spear!
𝘐𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘏𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴-𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘥, 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸, 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘪𝘻 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯…𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬. 𝘐𝘯 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘫𝘰𝘺.
“𝘉𝘌𝘈𝘔 𝘚𝘈𝘠𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘒𝘠𝘈!” 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮.
Is Sheemie the most powerful character in all of King’s works? I wonder if a power ranking has ever been done.
𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘌𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘻𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵—𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘱, 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘵, 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘢—𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘵.
I guess that might answer that last question!
𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘸. 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘬𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘭’𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵.
Roland knocked out Pimli Prentiss that easily??? King keeps dropping hints that things are not going to turn out well, but…
“𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘮, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴! 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘦! 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨! 𝘒𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘔 𝘈𝘓𝘓!”
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥: 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘎𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘭𝘺𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘔𝘳𝘴. 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘢 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘸 𝘢𝘴 ’𝘉𝘢𝘮𝘢. 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘊𝘛 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩: 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘕-𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘈-𝘊-𝘗 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥, 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘯.
𝘐’𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴; 𝘐’𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘶𝘻𝘪𝘦’𝘴 𝘊𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘐’𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦—𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮—𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘢-𝘵𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦-𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘶𝘯; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘬𝘢-𝘵𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺.
𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺.
And Stephen King says, “No. No, we cannot have nice things here.”
𝘗𝘪𝘮𝘭𝘪 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥-𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘱 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘪 𝘰’ 𝘛𝘦𝘨𝘰.
So King pulls a dirty trick and shows us that Pimli is not quite dead yet. The bastard!
𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘶𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳 .𝟦𝟢 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥. 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸. 𝘈 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘶𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘦𝘺𝘦, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦.
No! That was too sudden!
“𝘚𝘶𝘻𝘦?” 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳. “𝘚𝘶𝘻𝘪𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦.”
𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱, 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥, 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥…𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯-𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘑𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥, 𝘢𝘺𝘦, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵.
So much to unpack here. A reference to the mystery phrase whispered in Eddie’s ear back in Wolves of the Calla? Wow.
On that earth-shattering and heartbreaking note, I finish reading for today. I can’t say I’m looking forward to picking up the pieces tomorrow.
I am now 47% of the way through The Dark Tower.
Day 1713: Sep 9, 2026
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Day 1714: Sep 10, 2026
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Day 1715: Sep 11, 2026
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Day 1716: Sep 12, 2026
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Day 1717: Sep 13, 2026
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