The Pornography Wars

Posted on by Opher

The Pornography Wars

The Pornography Wars takes political satire and social comment (with a liberal dash of humour) into a new dimension.
Sex is the essence of everything.
Is human history contrived by aliens?
Are we in a film set for an alien pornographic soap opera?
Is all human culture nothing more than an alien psych-master’s program?
What happens when the aliens argue over the future of pornography on their tridee sets?
What is going to happen to the future of human beings?

Introduction

Trut – the planet of love.

If ever there was a place that lived up to the slogan ‘Make Love Not War’ it was Trut – the home of fruit eating pacifists.

Inhabited by a highly intelligent race of people, a people who were blue in colour, due to their efficient copper-based blood pigment, Trut was the home planet of a civilisation that had not only survived for hundreds of thousands of years but was the hub of an empire that extended over thousands of worlds.

The planet Trut was a technological marvel, a jewel of civilisation.

The truts had uniquely evolved in a world where there were no carnivores. During their early evolution they had nothing to fear or defend themselves against and no desire to hunt. Consequently violence was an anathema to them. Food and space had always been plentiful. They had no need to fight. It wasn’t in them.

At the dawn of time when the first primitive truts evolved, if two tribes met in the steamy jungles of Trut, instead of fighting over territory, they immediately became sexually inflamed and came together in a glorious orgy.

Nothing had changed over the millennia in which they had created their civilisation, mastered science and conquered space. Their lack of aggression and competition had not stunted their curiosity or drive to discover. Far from it. These small, three-foot high, beings were highly successful, and even though they lived in the most sophisticated societies, sex was still their all-consuming passion.

Nature had been kind to them, providing them with both highly developed brains and immensely efficient supple bodies.

The flexible cartilaginous skeleton provided strength and resilience without the need for joints. Their ‘bones’ were springy which conferred great power.

Each trut’s large brain was housed in the centre of their body, protected in a flexible cartilaginous shell and supplied with oxygen by two hearts. The many layered cortex, rich in cells, had provided them with great intelligence which meant that truts had always been inquisitive and imaginative.

Truts resembled large blue terrestrial sea anemones with an array of tentacles and four flexible limbs, two adapted as legs and two as arms. They were nimble dextrous and skilful. With their sensory and respiratory tubes extended they resembled blue medusas with a long crimson gash down their fronts. Their sex organs – their proudest feature. The focus of attention.

Truts were hermaphrodite, possessing both male and female sex organs. There were seven eel-like extendable penises, slim but over a foot in length and seven vaginas. These organs of procreation were housed in a cloaca situated centrally in what would be the chest and abdomen of a human being.

This cloaca was a vivid scarlet foot long slit when not aroused. When aroused it opened like a flower unfurling and oscillated with fluorescence like a psychedelic lightshow. This was all the more conspicuous because of truts pale sky blue colour and as truts rarely wore clothing, except for specialist work, the coloration of their cloacas was all-important. It indicated their sexual condition. Inside the slit of their cloacas were housed their seven penises (fully retracted), seven vaginas and numerous folds, membranes and filaments.

They took great pride in flaunting their cloacas even more so than their faces.

Despite their technological and social sophistication sex was their obsession.

The stability of their system depended on a culture steeped in history and refined through time.

One, two, four and seven were the magic numbers and of these seven was the most sacred – one for the brain, two for the hearts, hands and feet, four for the limbs and seven for the penises and vaginas, the senses and the respiratory tubes, seven for the digits of each limb – seven the magic connection with the universe and the provider of life.

Seven – the number providing life-giving air, awareness and procreation.

Truts liked seven.

Thus seven became the sacred number, which, from the earliest times of trut philosophy, gave rise to the seven pillars of wisdom – the basis of all trut ethics. Originally devised as the philosophy through which all truts were versed in order to achieve a perfect life – empathy, harmony, love, respect, responsibility, compassion and wisdom.

The early treatises of these seven pillars were even to this day the subject of much reclusive contemplation. Most intelligent truts, at some point in their incredibly long lives, would retreat for seven years of seclusion in which they would devote themselves to studying the seven pillars and meditating on the meaning of life.

They found this most invigorating.

Chapter 1

Jrrred was a handsome and successful trut – a highly respected tridee director.

She slipped out of her somni on to the warm floor of her dormi, placed her feet apart and stretched her body out to their fullest extent bending each appendage in turn. Jrrred’s limbs felt delightfully sinuous and digits exceptionally supple today as she flexed the bendy skeletal elements back and forth.

It already felt like it was going to be a good day. She arched her back and yawned deliciously.

She extended her respiratory tubes and took three deep breaths through each in turn, drawing air through the seven tubes into her two lungs. She felt the oxygen coursing through her body as her two hearts raced faster, causing her large brain, situated in its flexible cartilaginous casing in the centre of her body, to pulse with energy.

It was her morning ritual. There was nothing like eight hours of weightless oblivion in a top class gravosomni, soothingly massaged by a pulsing throb of energy as one slept, followed by stimulating vibro-shower and an invigorating physical ritual of exercise to restore a sense of well-being.

It was a new day and Jrrred felt ready to take on the universe.

When her ritual was complete she extended an optical protuberance to its full extent so that she could assess how she looked. Even with the most critical eye Jrrred liked what she saw. Her skin was taut with a healthy sky-blue glow. Her rounded dome of what passed for a head sat proudly on her shoulders, face expressive, buccal pert, aural, optic and respiratory tubules a healthy yellow. Her limbs were slender and attractive. It was good to be alive. As she extended and bent each limb in turn she delighted in the ease with which the supple cartilage flexed.

She felt good.

She turned her attention to her cloaca. She had spent much time grooming it with just the right amount of hormones. It was so important in her line of work. A cloaca had to present exactly the right image. It had to hang on the cusp of arousal. Too much and it could promote the wrong reaction, too little and it did not command attention.

The long central slit was bright crimson tinged with a faint hint of orange, yellow and green. The lips had a suggestion of engorgement, sufficiently parting to enable the internal labia, filaments and membranes to slightly protrude. Her cloacal slit glistened healthily.

She extended a respiratory tube and sniffed. The musky aroma was very heady and made her nasal tissue tingle.

The Pornography Wars – A short extract

Posted on by Opher

I have now completed the fifth rewrite of my satirical Sci-fi novel.

Here’s an extract. All comments welcome!!

Brrrad lounged back in her luxopexi in the heptagonal room of her personal quarters in the State Building. It was so hard being the director general of a system the size of this. So many thousands of planets to care for that it was daunting if you ever stopped to think about it. Not that she ever stopped to think about it much. She did not like feeling daunted.

What was even more irksome was having to be elected. The trouble with an electorate is that they were either stupid or not stupid enough. Democracy could not be trusted. Whoever thought of electing a director general every five years was a complete fool. There had to be a better system – one that kept her in power without having to waste all this time and energy. The only thing that gave her any semblance of reassurance was the knowledge that she controlled the purse-strings of all the media companies. They were beholden. That had to give her some advantage.

She sipped her juice and topped her tumbler up from the servor. She was impatiently waiting for Tryyxx, her chief advisor and propaganda minister, and Tryyxx always kept her waiting. She suspected it was deliberate.

Over many thousands of years Trutian civilisation had evolved to ensure that truts were not manipulated, controlled or coerced. That would be deplorable. For, as in all intelligent life, there were those individuals who craved power, control and wealth – even in this utopian world of plenty. They were called politicians and often pitied – their personality defect ridiculed – their power carefully curtailed and their practices carefully regulated. Politicians were held in the contempt they deserved but were tolerated. Somebody had to be in control. Society did need to adapt and evolve. They were a necessary evil. The craving for power was treated with scorn. It was a disease. But it had its uses and was consequently well-rewarded.

Brrrad was the epitome of a politician. She constantly looked for ways to manipulate, control and coerce and not be caught doing it. She saw that as her job.

She loved power.

While she waited she jiggled her optics in time to the Olllppa tune she had playing in the bacground. One of those popular ditties. It was an aural worm. She critically studied the undulating walls with their oscillating colours and savoured the waves of haze that were flooding her brain. Very nice. She was not so sure about the walls though.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ Tryyxx murmured as she swept into the inner sanctum, checked the portal was firmly shut and security sealed behind her, helped herself to a tumbler of juice and slid slinkily into the luxopexi opposite Brrrad. She sipped and focussed a few optics on the director general, her face remaining impossible to read. That was the thing about Tryyxx; you never could tell what she was thinking. It left everyone feeling nervous. The talk was that she practiced it.

‘What ho,’ Brrrad said brightly, ignoring the lateness, leaning forward in her pexi conspiratorially, ‘much to talk about.’ She took a big gulp of the hazy laced juice, dipped her yellow optics and beamed across at Tryyxx.

Tryyxx sipped and watched impassively.

‘Nice drop of the old juice, what?’ Brrrad enthused. ‘Straight out of the juggulan orchards – real juice laced with the very best Inji haze. Top class stuff. You can’t get hold of this stuff for unnnx or injert.’

Tryyxx took another sip. Her features did not change. It was hard to tell if she was impressed or not.

Brrrad looked around at the kuuundr designs that made up the undulating interior of the heptagonal room. The colours were exquisite. It was a priceless work of art freshly installed and designed to impress when she entertained dignitaries. ‘You don’t suppose our fellow truts would object to me carrying out another renovation, do you?’

Tryyxx raised a couple of eyestalks quizzically. ‘Again?’ She swept a few optics around the sumptuous opulence of the interior design. ‘You only had this kuuundr put in a short while back. It cost a fortune.’

‘I know,’ Brrrad said, pulling a face. ‘It’s just that it gets on your nerves after a while. It’s never still. A bit jolly overpowering.’

Tryyxx nodded her optics noncommittally but somehow still registering despair. Brrrad was renowned for her extravagance at the expense of the Trutian public. ‘I would remind you that it was probably criminal to have such an expensive artwork installed in the first place. To have it ripped out and replaced might push it beyond the limit.’

‘Yes, yes, quite,’ Brrrad muttered, casting an annoyed glance over at the psychedelic walls. ‘But, that isn’t what I needed to talk to you about.’ She pulled her attention away from the irritating flowing colours, took another big slug of juice, recomposed herself and focussed all her optics on Tryyxx. ‘As you know we have another election coming up soon and I would very much like to retain my possession of this rather salubrious dom with its extremely pleasant accoutrements.’ She gestured to the prestigious servor. She eyed Tryyxx with a degree of concern. Tryyxx was always an unknown quantity but she invariably came up with the goods. ‘I think we need to pull something out of the berk for this one Tryyxx. I’m relying on you to come up with something good.’

Tryyxx sipped her juice and remained inscrutable.

‘Of course,’ Brrrad blustered, ‘as is only right, I’ve taken the liberty of increasing your stipend by 40%. I trust that will assist the old brain cells to fire away.’

Tryyxx did not seem particularly enthralled, but then she never did. She sipped and nodded with partially extended eye pods. ‘I will see what I can come up with,’ she answered noncommittally, retracted all her optics, sank deep in thought. Finally she exhaled loudly then turned her optics all on to Brrrad. ‘I think this one is going to be extremely difficult. Gyrra and her crew are well organised and are a good twelve points clear. They will fight hard. It will be a war.’ She watched Brrrad for any signs of reaction. She could tell she knew it was going to be extremely difficult from her feigned indifference. Truts had woken up to how appalling she was and Brrrad knew it. Brrrad was widely considered to be lazy, inept and particularly dithery when it came to actions. She was thought to be entertaining and fun but a bit lacking. ‘They’ll be looking to bring you down.’

She studied Brrrad intently for signs of some understanding. There was none.  She knew Gyrra was going to find her an easy target. Being a mere twelve points down was flattering to Brrrad. She would have to come up with something extraordinary to close that gap. With a resigned shake of the optics she said – ‘All things are possible in war. We’ll need a big issue to focus on. Something really big.’

Brrrad laid back looking unconcerned with just two optics focussed on the brooding Tryyxx. She wasn’t going to worry about it. That’s what she employed Tryyxx for. No doubt she would come out with a plan to get her back in the running.

Tryyx was an inordinately long time thinking. Finally she raised her optics and spoke – ‘Sex – sex is the big issue. That is the arena to slug this one out in.’

‘Sex?’ Brrrad queried. That hardly seemed at all relevant. She couldn’t see any connection to politics and elections – but she had to hope that Tryyxx knew what she was doing. A war with sex that sounded good.

Sci-fi novel – The Pornography Wars update.

Posted on by Opher

The Pornography Wars update.

I have just completed the third rewrite of my latest Sci-fi novel – The Pornography Wars.

It now comes in at 203 pages – 81,500 words – about the right length for a novel of this type.

The novel has a strong social/political aspect with the use of a lot of satire. I wanted it to be a fast, punchy read despite it not having a lot of ‘action’. I have structured it with short paragraphs and short sentences to enable a fast flow for the reader.

Much of the description of the aliens is based on sound biology. The human body, because of its evolution, is extremely poorly designed. I think it is extremely unlikely that other life elsewhere in the universe would have evolved to create such a fragile and inefficient end result as a human being. My aliens are biologically superior in every respect – but that appears exceptionally strange to us.

It feels good to have completed it. I’m now going to allow it to settle to enable objectivity before doing another edit. I look forward to receiving feedback for further improvements.

New novel – Danny’s Story – Chapter 13 – Pete’s Story

Posted on by Opher

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Chapter 13 – Pete’s story

Danny discovered Pete was a student. If Danny had to guess he would have plumped for engineering, electronics, physics, woodwork or music. That was what Pete’s room seemed to shriek of with its woodwork tools, soldering iron, assorted bits of wood, wiring and home-made instruments and machines. But Pete was studying biology, though you wouldn’t know it.

When Pete wasn’t making or inventing something, which he did quite often, he and Danny would hang out together. They’d end up in one another’s rooms either playing music, Pete invariably picking at a guitar or one of his own inventions along to the music, or reading Sci-fi books. They had that easy-going relationship where there was no need to talk. You just slipped into each other’s company. Not that they didn’t talk. Many were the nights when they’d sit up through the night talking passionately about life, love, infinity, reality, the environment and music. The world was in a mess. They knew how to put it right. If only………..

Pete had come from Suffolk. He’d been brought up on a farm. He lived in an ancient farmhouse with a moat, secret rooms and enough freedom to last a life-time. He regaled Danny with his tales of building rafts to race along the moat, climbing trees, scrumping and collecting wild animals. He’d always learnt to solve problems. Out in the sticks there were no shops. If something needing fixing you fixed it. He’d always built things. That came in good use when he got his first motorbike – an old BSA Bantam – and rampaged around the farm.

Pete had gone to the little village school where he’d not excelled. His head was always out there in the fields and wide open spaces. But he’d done enough. He’d taken his A Levels. Then he’d dropped out. He’d taken what is now known as a gap year and headed out to Africa on VSO. He’d soon got fed-up with that and jumped ship, ending up out in the bush as an eighteen year old teaching and running a clinic, the only white man around. He reminisced about his experiences, dealing with malaria, syphilis and tropical ulcers with nothing more than a jar of aspirin and some sulphur powder. In a matter of fact way he told the story of how he had discovered a young boy unconscious under a bush and taken his back to the clinic. He had malarial fever and a temperature well over a hundred. Pete nursed him back from the brink.

When he was better the boy disappeared. Weeks went past and then the boy reappeared with his father. His father was a weaver. He had listened to his son telling him about the white man who had saved his life. His father had weaved a length of kente cloth, the traditional weave, and trekked the tens of miles through the wilderness to present it to Pete. Pete showed it to Danny.

Straight from the outback in Ghana, with its witch-doctors, mud huts, lack of facilities and wilderness with real wild animals, Pete had gone into London and a course in Biology. He was suffering from culture shock. None of it seemed to equate.

Danny seemed to intuitively understand this. That’s probably why they got on so well. None of the way society worked made much sense to him either. They were both outsiders looking in.

These are my six books of poetry. They are available as paperback or on Kindle from Amazon – all for under £5 for a paperback. You could buy the whole lot for just £27.62!!

They are not conventional poetry books. They are like you find on my blog with a page of explanatory prose followed by the poem. The prose is as important as the poem to me.

 

Codas, Cadence and Clues – £4.97

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Codas-Cadence-Clues-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1530754453/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460847766&sr=1-4&keywords=opher+goodwin

Stanzas and Stances – £5.59

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Stanzas-Stances-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1518708080/ref=sr_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882298&sr=1-9&keywords=opher+goodwin

Poems and Peons – £4.33

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Poems-Peons-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1519640110/ref=sr_1_25?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882335&sr=1-25&keywords=opher+goodwin

Rhymes and Reasons – £3.98

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Rhymes-Reason-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1516991184/ref=sr_1_28?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882443&sr=1-28&keywords=opher+goodwin

Prose, Cons and Poetry – £4.60

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Prose-Cons-Poetry-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1512376566/ref=sr_1_35?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882506&sr=1-35&keywords=opher+goodwin

Vice and Verse – £4.15

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Vice-Verse-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514792079/ref=sr_1_36?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882560&sr=1-36&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

 

Science Fiction books:

 

Ebola in the Garden of Eden – paperback £6.95 Kindle £2.56 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ebola-Garden-Eden-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514878216/ref=sr_1_11?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461831172&sr=1-11&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Green – paperback £9.98 Kindle £2.56 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Green-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514122294/ref=sr_1_17?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461831333&sr=1-17&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Rock Music books

 

In Search of Captain Beefheart – paperback £6.91 Kindle £1.99 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Search-Captain-Beefheart-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1502820455/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=146183144

3&sr=1-1&keywords=opher+Goodwin

 

Other selected books and novels:

 

Anecdotes-Weird-Science-Writing-Ramblings – a book of anecdotes mainly from the sixties and other writing.

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Anecdotes-Weird-Science-Writing-Ramblings/dp/1519675631/ref=sr_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461832001&sr=1-9&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

More Anecdotes – following the immense popularity of the first volume I produced a second

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/More-Anecdotes-Essays-Beliefs-flotsam/dp/1530770262/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461832001&sr=1-5&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Goofin’ with the cosmic freaks – a kind of On the Road for the sixties

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Goofin-Cosmic-Freaks-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1500860247/ref=sr_1_13?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461832001&sr=1-13&keywords=opher+goodwin

The book of Ginny – a novel

 

 

In Britain :

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1461306850&sr=1-2-ent

 

In America:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=opher+goodwin

In all other countries around the world check out your regional Amazon site and Opher Goodwin books.

 

 

New novel – Danny’s Story – Chapter 12 – The garden and Alan and Sally

Posted on by Opher

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Chapter 12 – The Garden and Alan and Sally

The garden was the place to meet most people. Number 303 was a mirror image of 301. They were like a terraced block. Mr Rose owned both of them. The garden was shared.

In the early even Danny would often go out into the garden to relax and play. He might have a swing on the swingboat or sit on the rocking seat and take in the magic.

One of his favourite things was the hoop-la. He’d spend hours throwing the hand-made hoops at the four sticks that Mr Rose had set up. He’d got quite good at it.

That was how he met Alan and Sally.

Danny was the undisputed king of the hoop-la. It was his meditation. He found it restful to stand there getting his mind into the zone and throwing the hoops to fall over the poles. There was an art to it. Mr Rose had constructed the hoops from lengths of plastic tubing. He’d simply cut the tube into similar lengths and used a wooden plug as the link. It was effective. But the wooden plug created an uneven weight distribution. The art was to throw the hoop with a spin so that the weight was evenly distributed and you avoided any wobble. It was nigh on impossible to drop a hoop directly over a pole as Danny had soon discover. So Danny had perfected a technique to throw the hoop so that it was at an angle. The rear of the hoop hit the pole first and the hoop dropped. It meant you could throw it hard and it depended on accuracy.

‘You’re pretty good at that.’

Danny looked round to discover he had an audience. A large youth, big boned and carrying a number of excess pounds, with long dark hair greasy looking hair and beard to match, was standing in the shadows watching. He reminded Danny of Bob Hite from Canned Heat.

‘I’ve been practicing,’ Danny said.

‘I’ll give you a game,’ the youth said, stepping forward. ‘My name’s Alan.’

‘Danny,’ Danny Champion replied. They shook hands. Danny went over and collected the hoops. ‘OK Alan, let’s see what you’re made of.’

Alan took the ten hoops, stared intently at the poles and began to throw. Not one came close.

They both had a chuckle. Danny took aim and managed to hook six.

‘What say we have a drink instead,’ Big Alan suggested.

Danny agreed. Throwing hoops was thirsty work.

Alan shared the front basement flat at 303 with Sally. The front room was cosy with a big comfy leather armchair that was Alan’s and a sofa. It was dominated by a large television. Danny noticed that there wasn’t a single book in sight. There were a stack of albums next to a hi-fi though.

Sally was older than Alan, very thin with shoulder length wavy black hair. She seemed nervous and bubbly, like a little bird jumping from twig to twig, and eager to wait on Alan. She went off to retrieve some beers.

Alan sat in his chair and I went over to have a rummage through his albums. That was a standard thing to do. It was polite to comment on the musical taste of a new friend. You could tell a lot about a man from the music he listened to. Alan’s seemed to be towards the heavy end. Along with Beatles, Stones, Hendrix and Cream he had a lot of Deep Purple, Black Sabbath and Quo. Danny could handle that.

One beer turned into an evening of beer. Alan drank remorselessly. Danny didn’t bother trying to keep up. The spliffs followed and Alan became freer and easier with a deep guffaw of a laugh while Sally hovered anxiously on the periphery but joined in and added her little laugh.

That was the start of Danny’s friendship with Alan and Sally.

 

 

These are my six books of poetry. They are available as paperback or on Kindle from Amazon – all for under £5 for a paperback. You could buy the whole lot for just £27.62!!

They are not conventional poetry books. They are like you find on my blog with a page of explanatory prose followed by the poem. The prose is as important as the poem to me.

 

Codas, Cadence and Clues – £4.97

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Codas-Cadence-Clues-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1530754453/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460847766&sr=1-4&keywords=opher+goodwin

Stanzas and Stances – £5.59

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Stanzas-Stances-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1518708080/ref=sr_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882298&sr=1-9&keywords=opher+goodwin

Poems and Peons – £4.33

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Poems-Peons-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1519640110/ref=sr_1_25?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882335&sr=1-25&keywords=opher+goodwin

Rhymes and Reasons – £3.98

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Rhymes-Reason-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1516991184/ref=sr_1_28?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882443&sr=1-28&keywords=opher+goodwin

Prose, Cons and Poetry – £4.60

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Prose-Cons-Poetry-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1512376566/ref=sr_1_35?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882506&sr=1-35&keywords=opher+goodwin

Vice and Verse – £4.15

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Vice-Verse-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514792079/ref=sr_1_36?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1460882560&sr=1-36&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

 

Science Fiction books:

 

Ebola in the Garden of Eden – paperback £6.95 Kindle £2.56 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ebola-Garden-Eden-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514878216/ref=sr_1_11?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461831172&sr=1-11&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Green – paperback £9.98 Kindle £2.56 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Green-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514122294/ref=sr_1_17?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461831333&sr=1-17&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Rock Music books

 

In Search of Captain Beefheart – paperback £6.91 Kindle £1.99 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Search-Captain-Beefheart-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1502820455/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=146183144

3&sr=1-1&keywords=opher+Goodwin

 

Other selected books and novels:

 

Anecdotes-Weird-Science-Writing-Ramblings – a book of anecdotes mainly from the sixties and other writing.

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Anecdotes-Weird-Science-Writing-Ramblings/dp/1519675631/ref=sr_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461832001&sr=1-9&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

More Anecdotes – following the immense popularity of the first volume I produced a second

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/More-Anecdotes-Essays-Beliefs-flotsam/dp/1530770262/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461832001&sr=1-5&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Goofin’ with the cosmic freaks – a kind of On the Road for the sixties

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Goofin-Cosmic-Freaks-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1500860247/ref=sr_1_13?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461832001&sr=1-13&keywords=opher+goodwin

The book of Ginny – a novel

 

 

In Britain :

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1461306850&sr=1-2-ent

 

In America:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=opher+goodwin

In all other countries around the world check out your regional Amazon site and Opher Goodwin books.

 

New novel – Sorting the future – Chapter 8 – I want to go home

Posted on by Opher

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Right – you get a double dose today. Maybe even an other one later!

Chapter 8 – I want to go home

‘Before we begin the procedure we have to obtain your full consent,’ the chief alien informed me in his methodical manner.

By this time I was beyond all rational thought. I just wanted it to end. I wanted them to turn the ship round and dump me back home where I could explain what had happened and comfort Liz and the kids who I knew must be in shock.

‘I need to go home,’ I said bluntly, digging my heels in.

‘That is not possible.’ The alien replied emphatically. ‘There are far too many huge issues to solve. It is unfortunate that your wife and children cannot be told now, and we acknowledge that they will be greatly upset. But there is no alternative. We have studied the situation fully and there was no other way. You have to trust us in this matter.’

I stared at him in disbelief. He was talking about my wife and children’s’ distress as if it was of no consequence, as if it did not matter. Yet it was the only thing that really mattered. I could not believe how I had allowed myself to be so compliant. I had meekly followed them into the craft without a thought for the implications. I had disappeared without letting them know I was alright.

‘I have to go home. I am not agreeing to anything.’

‘I understand how you feel but it is not possible. I will explain and you will understand. When you weigh up a few days distress against the immense anguish of a planet of agonies you will see that the two do not equate. If there was a way of letting them know without creating complications we would have seized it. We have studied the situation from all sides. There was not. It the big scope of things we had to choose. There was no other way. You have to trust me on this.

Part of me could understand this but I still could not come to terms with it. I knew that it would have been as distressing for me to calmly inform Liz that I was about to go off with a bunch of aliens I hardly knew and could be some time. She might not have taken too kindly to the idea. Then there were other issues – what if it leaked out that I was off gallivanting with a bunch of aliens? It had implications. Why couldn’t things be simple? But that did not calm my troubled mind. The thoughts of what Liz and the kids were going through right now were far too upsetting.

‘Opher Goodwin,’ the alien spoke gently. ‘We understand the grief you are currently feeling. And we know that it is upsetting to you to think of the anguish this will cause your mate and offspring in the short term. We also know that our words will not alleviate your suffering, no matter how true they are. But we have selected you to perform a task that will ultimately save grief on a scale you cannot even imagine.’

‘But I know I cannot do that,’ I wailed. ‘I am not capable of doing that.’

‘Yes you are and you will.’

 

Science Fiction books:

 

Ebola in the Garden of Eden – paperback £6.95 Kindle £2.56 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ebola-Garden-Eden-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514878216/ref=sr_1_11?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461831172&sr=1-11&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Green – paperback £9.98 Kindle £2.56 (or free on unlimited)

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Green-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1514122294/ref=sr_1_17?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1461831333&sr=1-17&keywords=opher+goodwin

 

Rock Music books

 

In Search of Captain Beefheart – paperback £6.91 Kindle £1.99 (or free on unlimited)

 

 

In Britain :

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1461306850&sr=1-2-ent

 

In America:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=opher+goodwin

In all other countries around the world check out your regional Amazon site and Opher Goodwin books.

New Novel – Danny’s Story – Chapter 3 – Feedback welcome

Posted on by Opher

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This is the third chapter in my new novel. Are there any comments you could make? Any suggestions? Feedback?

Chapter 3 – A rose by any other name

Danny’s first meeting with Mr Rose went well. Suzie saw to that. She dressed him in his best shirt and brushed his hair back behind his ears. She couldn’t do anything about its length but she could make him look as tidy as possible.

It was a bravura performance. She breezed in to Mr Rose’s room to pay the rent. All Danny had to do was keep quiet and nod and smile as required and as instructed.

Mr Rose was short and portly with grey shiny hair, spectacles, grey flannels, a check shirt and maroon cardigan. He seemed a friendly, pleasant man who was still fairly active for a man in his eighties. They went in and sat down while Mr Rose got out his scruffy book and pen to note down the payment.

Danny took time to look around the room, taking in the oil paintings on the walls and the amazing partition that separated the rooms. It was made up of stained glass depicting a rural scene with rolling hills and a sun shining down with bright yellow rays. Danny found it mesmerising. The sun was low and shining through the front window and made the whole four panels glow with colour. He could not stop staring at it.

‘This is my friend Danny Champion,’ Suzie said in way of introduction. She had arranged herself on the chair with legs neatly crossed and a beaming smile.

Danny nodded and Mr Rose formally shook his hand.

‘He’s staying with us for a few weeks,’ Suzie enthused, leaning forward.

It seemed to go over Mr Rose’s head. It was of little interest. He was carefully filling in the ledger. Then he looked up.

‘That’s my work,’ Mr Rose explained, nodding towards the stain-glass work. He’d been taking it all in. Danny was to find out that he was a lot sharper than Suzie gave him credit for. ‘I used to be a stain-glass window maker. That’s all best quality glass.’

Danny nodded. ‘I can see that,’ he said. ‘It is beautiful.’

Mr Rose nodded and closed the ledger. ‘That was after I was a tailor. I was a tailor for forty years.’

‘Me and Charlotte are going away for a few weeks,’ Suzie went on to explain. ‘Danny is looking after the flat for us.’

Mr Rose raised his eyebrows and Danny’s heart fluttered. This was the moment he pulled the plug on it. ‘How can he be staying with you then?’ Mr Rose asked, putting the ledger back on the shelf.

‘What I mean is that he is looking after the place for us while we’re away,’ Suzie replied without getting at all flustered. Danny flashed her a look of admiration. He was becoming desperate for that flat.

‘That’s good,’ Mr Rose said, pursing his lips. ‘I don’t like a flat to be empty. It encourages vermin.’ He gave Danny a knowing look which caused him to squirm. No babies, no pets and no hippies was going round Danny’s head. What was the man thinking? What did he make of the long hair?

Danny nodded his agreement. ‘Empty flats are not good,’ he said lamely.

Mr Rose looked him over with a stern expression. It was obvious to Danny that he wasn’t falling for this; not one little bit. He was weighing things up. He was going to tell Danny he could not stay. But he eventually looked away and seemed content to roll with it. He was letting it go.

Danny was in.

Green – A Science fiction book with great scope and imagination.

Posted on by Opher

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‘This is a novel with a difference; a highly readable story, a page turner, yet with an important message.’

The Blurb

This is a Sci-fi novel set in the future.

Elspin is born without a nervous system; a brain with no connection to the world. She is locked within her dreams in an infinite universe of inner space. She should have withered into nothing but against all the odds she prospered.

What does a person think within their own head when there is no knowledge of the world outside?

Politicians and Business-people are at each others throats. The world is in crisis. The Greens are split into factions. Passions are explosive.

What should the Greens do to save the planet?

A way is found of contacting Elspin. What happens when universes clash? The universe within the head and the universe outside?

Will the world survive?

 

An antitheist novel – The Book of Ginny.

Posted on by Opher

Book of Ginny cover

Perhaps, like me, you think that religion is manufactured out of the heads of human beings and is responsible for more harm than good. Then this racy novel is an intriguing look at what happens when God instructs a young woman.

This is the blurb:

WARNING – Sexually Explicit and Religiously Dangerous! This book is a sexually explicit expose of religion. If you are easily offended by sex or hold strong religious views I suggest you read no further. Ginny was a young party girl with a close group of friends. Life was good. She had a job she enjoyed and her world was fun. There was the round of parties, clubs, dancing, drugs and sex that provided the spice. Apart from one or two ‘aggravations’ such as getting herself prosecuted for shoplifting life was pretty sorted. Then came the voices and life would never be the same. She had been chosen and instructed to spread the word. Ginny put the world of sex, drugs and dancing behind her and embarked upon the task of delivering the new gospel to the world. At first it seemed to go so well but then she discovered that there were many with vested interests who were not so enamoured with any new revelations. They had a battle on their hands.

if you would like to purchase this book:

Sci-fi novel – Ebola in the Garden of eden – a great Sci-fi novel.

Posted on by Opher

ebola book

The Synod

The Synod is a group of the world’s top politicians who received their orders from ‘upstairs’ – a shady group of billionaires who pull the strings.

There is concern that the huge population is out of control. It is no longer economically viable. The problems now exceed the profits. It is time to take drastic action.

The Scientist :

Science is pure. Working with the genome is expanding knowledge. The ethics can be left to the politicians to worry about.

Mickel’s Syndrome :

Mikel’s Syndrome is a rare genetic disorder of partial trisomy creating a slight difference in biochemistry but a large difference in a person.

A crisis precipitated :

There is a law that whatever can go wrong will go wrong.

Evolution is the survival of the fittest.

The future The future is where it all starts.