# smashwords e-book covers rule > cheat your landlord if you can and must but do not try to shortchange the muse. it cannot be done. you can't fake quality any more than you can fake a good meal > ~ william seward burroughs a large percentage of e-book covers teleport in from another slushy dimension - where modern languages of design and aesthetic judgement are entirely bypassed and a distinct lack of readable typefaces is the norm smashwords is that dimension travel with me now as we research a tasty sampling of the best it can only offer - where ephemerality banality irony angst ridden kitsch deliberate self parody billiously strong colors and other hyperreal aesthetic distortions (/seem to) undermine the functional symbolic value of such objects and question concepts of "taste" "good design" "common sense" and "regular supervised medication" such covers give strange new impetus to the phrase "if the covers are anything to go by imagine what the writing inside must be like" seems to be channelling the stepford wives. one also wonders if the title indicates both of these people no longer soil the carpet julia was no longer convinced of ir faithfulness due to the fact ir trousers were regularly missing from the washing line ever other thursday. other than that they was still busy coping over the recent death of beufort ir prized psychic bulldog it's unknown if the unfortunately angelic sarah is staring up in fright at the couple ey's unable to join in shadow - or up the scary ferris wheel of unrequited love sarah's cute button nose was a regular item of commentary among the fast rising starlets of newmontagnal high's inner social circles. it was set however in a face where the inner shine of a troubled soul shone through with an oblique gold tint paradoxically casting its melancholy shadow on every party sarah frequented in that angry overcast semester of '86 the awesomely photoshopped head seems to contrast well with the dirty blue bubble font set at a jaunty angle suddenly intense mucosal explosions rocked the entire school to its foundations as minxy emily in ir new sky-blu winter sports jacket giggled with jagged sexual luminosity snowy daydreams of luxurious revenge on ir team mates forever rapidly expanding in the ancient untold skies above ir hometown now forgotten in the hard chemical rush for liquid revenge other than a vhs fulci flick,the only place that poses a greater immediate threat to one's eyeballs is this terrific beast justin clasped the monster by its fleshy lapels and threw it over ir muscular shoulder with the force of a man who watches late night open access cable judo. with a strange fiery yelp the creature crashed through several cubicles into the watercooler where due to the effects of the water justin had blessed that morning it underwent a terrible transformation into the local network manager graham - or 'flesh trifle' to ir numerous enemies having said that however one obviously did not have to contend with the burning sun of this modern classic. one wonders what thoughts must have been provoked to produce it let the sunlight be your guide. let the rocks tell your story. everything in this land is a perfect symbol of peace and loving guidance but you must allow ir sentient message of holistic wonderment into your heart. turn off the television set and eat an apple content in your soul - but don't forget to plant any seeds you find in the core for these are your future selves as yet unborn and ready to sprout now this should be on a hawaiian style t-shirt worn by employees of a company where they have enforced fun fridays. dig the 'playful deadpan' way mr. tiger pokes ir head through monkey speak through teacher. teacher speak through wine. wine not speak but poor. rain on the table mist in the bloody desert air. monkey teacher drink poor wine from rainy table. calculate the oddities of fate but never speak of the white tiger of destiny without first raising a single finger to test the air for shifting winds of unexpected joy standing before the cardboard cut-out city of ir troubled birth susan is as confused as anyone else clasping ir designer handbag to ir ample chest susan waited for the cab to the meeting they now sensed would never arrive. where was ir life heading if not rapidly down the executive toilet ir head bumping against the continually lowered glass ceiling of a male dominated sex toy industry? sarah sighed and carefully took out a tiny pill from a delicately made medicine box in the side pocket of ir purse. it was already dissolving into ir pores as they slowly ground it between thumb and finger. immediately sarah felt alive conceptually renewed and just horny enough to (..] any book cover where it's possible to read the giant carp as saying the name of the author should be commended - for precisely what however is the tricky part bloop bloop went the fish. 'why am i here,' went the mighty fish hunter this cover seems precisely the kind of intense fever dream someone young with measles might conjure dallius let the cool grey sand slip pleasantly between ir oversized toes while the light played off the surface of the colorless water. time for another hot existential doodle thought dallius this should win an award for the most unrestrained use of tartan in the knowable universe in some strange sense julia really was a private investigator - right up to the point the man under question filed a restraining order against ir. 'no private investigative roleplaying with 500 meters of your alleged imaginary suspect' read the court order. julia frowned and considered ir next case when words fail a heteronormative kiss taken over a pastel scene of pure phallic flight-fantasy often suffices hemorrhoids thought trevor armed with what look like ten breasts and a face slightly too small for the head any reader would fear the pealing of this particular bell copy the sixth - the summit meeting of elite bodybuilders - the eight the quadrant over the ninth plus eighty - four circles - weave the eighty and call the fourth copy - damned if i know where that manuscript is the 70's called with an offer. awesome how the milkshake looks sentient and ready to attack - a horror story perhaps it was no laughing matter thought duke gombrata as ey indelicately slid one of ir many remotely controlled mating organs into what was left of the storm cloud pudding. a great crackling could be heard echoing throughout the castle. many of the guests were damp with anticipation if there was ever a book cover suggesting a marriage on the borderline of terminal decline this is it marianne hated peter so much they threw away ir first edition copy of ulysses into the harbour where they'd once departed for ir honeymoon a thousand billion bloody hollow moons ago it seemed in the impossibly distant immediate near future who will come across covers like this and what will they make of them? what pathetic little backwater planet of empty gestures and endless useless details will they imagine once existed where now there is only airless utterly desiccated salty death? chapter one - in which old tom the fisherman at omega point lapses back into a private reverie where ey is the unsoiled potato king or something highlights: suspect gaze at the young woman ir lipstick smear use of lens flare - and horses. one wonders what other untold promises such an epic trilogy might hold captain robinson liked ir women physically strong mentally feeble and perfectly armed with ir favorite brand of space pistol - the crakos mark 14 slung low on one cheeky hip. ey looked out the port window and sighed dreaming of better days. the captain's mind was like a brilliant metallic sponge able to absorb any information about impending attack by dimensional ninjas sent by ir arch enemy doctor caslon ten (unidentifiable) marks out of ten eat it mutant street scum. shakaloumabanjo seems legit. might even want to be seen reading this in public with slip on shoes and a popped collar. this sort of book is often found it in maseratis in beverly hills - know what i mean? open your life to affirmative possibility enhanced by neurocognitive science. let the sunlight be your guide. let the audience tell your story. everything you own is a perfect symbol of peace and loving guidance further unlockable life lessons available online for $950 // republic of bob