"Prophetic Visions From the Art of Vincent Di Fate"
I wasn't sure what to expect when I picked this pack out of a cheapie bin at a local card shop. The guy running the place threw it in for free with the other stuff I bought, so at least my curiosity didn't cost me anything. As it turns out, these cards are in the style of 1970s sci-fi paperbacks, the type of which you might find in dozens in a shoebox at a rummage sale. That style of art isn't exactly my favorite. In fact, to me it's the stuff nightmares are made of. I'll try to explain how each card gets under my skin.
Top to Bottom:
26. Ringed Giant
The boredom of reading a story like this frightens me.
There's not really enough going on in our solar system to excite anyone, so a trip to Saturn (stated so on the back) would likely put me to sleep.
The ideas behind this winged goddess frighten me.
The back of the card asks, "Can we one day visit the home of God?" If this maternal being packing a ray gun guards the entrance, I sure hope not. Babes like this in the sci-fi universe are more likely to rip your spine out than fulfill any carnal desires. And are we supposed to believe that that rocket can blast off without any surrounding space equipment?
Space combat frightens me.
The sterlie, mechanical lovemaking of the future frightens me.
The exterminating machines are no match for human ingenuity, which will eventually expose their tripod design flaw. After the dust has settled, though, all Spaceman Spiff gets is an insertion into the G-valve and a few seconds of rigorous, pulsating pumping. No thank you.
This card is in landscape format and didn't make the scanner cut. Sure, I could scan it again, but why?
77. The Shape of Things Future
Unsustainable architecture frightens me.
The large, funnel-shaped mass can only be used to store waste. This means the 500-member colony lives in one of the upper rings in 75-square foot chambers. Claustrophobia is the rule, not the exception, of future housing.
The specificity of basic cable expansion packages frightens me.
This satellite beams 30,000 channels into people's entertainment quarters, 95% of programming being infomercials or on-the-job reality programming about the drudgery of being a southern janitor.
Jesus, this mechanical man frightens me.
Technological anachronisms frighten me.
If we are going to be so advanced, why all the antennas? Is over-the-air media going to make a storming comeback?
"Also Sprach Zarathustra" frightens me.
Most of the cards in this pack, and thus the set, are derivative of Kubrick's 2001. New sensations have overtaken me while perusing this pack, chiefly among them the sound of Strauss's symphony and the smell of musty paperbacks.