The number of entries was pretty pathetic, which makes me feel rather pathetic. I’ve been neglecting this blog terribly over the past few months, and Google Analytics reflects it.

But that doesn’t make me any less enthusiastic about awarding the final prize to loyal reader Josh Vogt. Josh writes:

I’m assuming we’re talking about the “old” Obi-wan, since it’d be great to see two hoary-haired mentor figures going head to head. Now, after they both got all frowny and had a bushy-browed staring contest, Gandalf would win the ultimate showdown (bridge locale optional). Why? Because Obi-wan has a suicidal death wish. Just stick any young Jedi-wannabe within ten feet of the old guy, and the moment anyone takes a swing at his head, whether with a staff or light saber, the dude’s going to get a mystical smile on his face, cue a little emotional background music, and let himself get decapitated into a pile of dirty laundry. Because he’s just that enigmatic. He wouldn’t dare sacrifice all that mystique for the sake of winning any kind of fight. Gandalf is much more pragmatic and at least provides substantial opposition, making sure his enemy is down for the count (preferably cast down upon the mountainside) before even letting himself take a breather.

Congratulations, Josh, you’ve won the David Louis Edelman prize pack, which includes:

• One signed copy of the Solaris mass market of Infoquake
• One signed copy of the Pyr trade paperback of MultiReal
• One signed copy of The Solaris Book of New Science Fiction, Volume Two (containing my story “Mathralon”)
• One signed copy of the new Overlook Press edition of Mervyn Peake’s Titus Alone (containing my introduction)

The only other entry of note came from Derek Johnson, who writes:

This is easy: Gandalf wins hands down.  He defeated the Balrog, and traversed the belly of Middle Earth in the process.  All Obi-Wan ever did was turn into a ghost.  Obi-Wan couldn’t even stop the chosen one from turning to the dark side of the Force.

The “how” is even easier.  Because magic in Tolkien is something of a technology, he could sap Obi-Wan of his midichlorians, which are the key elements in accessing the Force.

The topic also came up in the comments for the last contest of what would happen if you added Morpheus, Albus Dumbledore, and Duncan Idaho to the mix. Personally, I think Morpheus would kick all of their asses — because you know that the powers of all the others are simply delusions forcefed down their neural cortexes by the Matrix.

Last week, I challenged you to create the dream presidential ticket with one of the current candidates as president and a comic book superhero as veep. I’ve awarded the prize to Yaron Davidson, who feels that a McCain/Kal-el ticket would be a success. (And no, I’m not rewarding Yaron just because he complained about the unfairness of the Americocentric topic last week. He really did have the best entry.)

McCain should pick Superman as his running mate because:
A. America is looking for strong leadership, and who is stronger than the Man of Steel?
B. Shows that he doesn’t have a problem with illegal aliens, as long as they’re polite, useful, don’t want to be paid for their assistance, and look white.
C. The soldiers in Iraq could use the help with the next surge.
D. With his x-ray vision, Superman could help find oil wells on U.S. soil, and then could immediately drill in to test them.

He also had some good reasons why Superman should campaign with Barack Obama. Which apparently makes the Man of Steel some kind of Joseph Lieberman figure.

Obama should pick Superman as his running mate because:
A. He could finally stick to a position against illegal wiretaps. Superman could listen to all the suspicious conversations by himself, and no good liberal would object to letting anyone use his innate ability freely.
B. Shows that Obama really values diversity, and doesn’t just play the race card for political reasons.
C. By flying people and equipment around, Superman could help to drastically cut the oil consumption of the public sector.
D. Superman can blow a lot of cold air, and help delay global warming.

First runner-up in the contest is clearly Sophia Ahmed, who believes that Obama should be doing his terrorist fist bump with Joseph Dredd.

“Vote Dredd/Obama: The Innocent Have Nothing To Fear”. New! For the first time, compliment your democracy with a totalitarian dictatorship. Next time some creep is violating your rights, know that Hope carries a Lawgiver. Judge Dredd is completely unbribable. His knowledge of the Law is complete and exact. Citizens and perps alike will always get justice. Instant results! No lawyer fees! PLUS — Dredd draws potential assassin fire away from the President, because making a successful hit on Dredd would be the crime coup of the millennium, in any reality! Vote Dredd/Obama, and know your country will always be prepared! Extra-dimensional threats a speciality.

This entry came in from Cindy Blank-Edelman. (No relation.) (Except, you know, she’s my sister.)

Clearly, Barack Obama should choose Wonder Woman as his running mate. Not only will this placate the many Hillary Clinton supporters who are threatening to vote for McCain, but it will give him a cool invisible plane to fly around in to make campaign appearances. Also, she has a great patriotic costume.

But Cindy wasn’t the only one who picked up on the Obama/Amazonia meme. Mick Summer believes that Wonder Woman’s lasso would be a great asset (though exactly how it’s going to help with Fox News, I’m not clear).

Barack Obama’s ideal 2008 running mate would be Wonder Woman, not necessarily because she would be America’s first female vice president; nor because it would set a precedent for gender equality in American society; nor because she would make a positive female role model for the whole world as well as America; but primarily because her Magic Lasso, which can make anyone tell the truth, would prove extremely useful in the White House, the Supreme Court, and on CNN and Fox News, in cutting through all the political red tape once-and-for-all, and providing all the truth that American citizens are entitled to. The lasso would also make an excellent (and humane) interrogation tool for use on any commander, official, employer, or other suspect, American as well as otherwise.

Not everybody stayed within the same confines of the mainstream. Stephen Stull writes:

(First Comics’) Badger should join McCain’s ticket. They’d almost surely lose, but Badger would get a nice public opinion boost, since he’d finally get to stand next to someone who made him look sane by comparison.

So endeth week 3.

*

For week 4′s contest — the final contest — I’m going to go back to two sources which (hopefully) should be familiar to everyone reading this blog: Star Wars and The Lord of the Rings. And I’m going to ask you the eternal question that has been boggling my mind since fifth grade:

Who would win a deathmatch smackdown fight: Gandalf or Obi-Wan Kenobi, and why? (Or better yet, how?)

Keep in mind that both white-haired old mentors have a way with a sword/saber. Gandalf’s got the Valar on his side, but Obi-Wan Kenobi’s got the Force on his side. And both of them seem to have a facility for coming back from the dead. So tell me who’s gonna win, and why.

Same contest rules apply as before. Email your response to dedelman@gmail.com with the subject line “Summer Giveaway Contest 4″. Entries are due Sunday, July 27 at 11:59 pm Eastern Time. Contest is open to anyone around the world. Submit as many entries as you like. Winning entry gets:

• One signed copy of the Solaris mass market of Infoquake
• One signed copy of the Pyr trade paperback of MultiReal
• One signed copy of The Solaris Book of New Science Fiction, Volume Two (containing my story “Mathralon”)
• One signed copy of the new Overlook Press edition of Mervyn Peake’s Titus Alone (containing my introduction)

What does this mean? This means that the Jewish Marxist Werewolves of Bolivia are out in force.

I received several great entries for this contest to win a signed copy of Infoquake. It was actually quite difficult to choose the winners, since some of you appeared to have really, really gotten into this. I’d like to think you were inspired by zeal for winning a copy of Infoquake, but I’m afraid it probably had more to do with some of you missing required doses of your medications.

But a hearty thanks to all who entered and provided me with some much-needed giggling. And now, the winners:

First Prize Winner: Josh Vogt.

Mr. Vogt actually submitted two prizeworthy entries to the contest, and I’m not entirely sure which one I liked better. I gave the crown to this one, for two reasons: (1) the phony Dune-like epigraph at the beginning is priceless, and (2) the second entry didn’t really mention Bolivia.

And the rabbi was lying on a mountain of ash and stones
with a ravenous mouth and staring pupils,
and in his soul there was silence and darkness and nothing more.
—an excerpt from Der Volf, by H. Leivick

As I adjust my tallit, the wolf yowls within me and peers through my eyes at an infant in its mother’s arms, as she sits in the recesses of the synagogue. A crunchy morsel, juicy on the outside, crunchy on the inside.

I curse the demon to silence. It’s just before sundown on Yom Kippur, and I must recite the Kol Nidre and escape before I slaughter everyone gathered for the evening prayers.

The wolf snarls and paces the cage of my ribs, gnawing them one at a time. Sometimes I wonder if wolves, rather than humans, were made in God’s image. Certainly we’re no better than beasts as we have turned on each other here in La Paz — gorging on the weaker, and then submitting to the stronger as they clamp their jaws around our hairy throats.

I should mention that Josh is a budding science fiction writer with a story recently sold to Shimmer and a novel being shopped around by his agent. Josh’s website: www.jrvogt.com.

Second Prize Winner: Colin Fisk.

I’m not sure whether the Colin Fisk who has won this contest is the Colin Fisk listed on Amazon as author of The Night City Guide and other books for the game Cyberpunk 2020. I’m just hoping he’s not the Colin Fisk who pops up on Google as a “drug dealer and convicted paedophile,” or the other Colin Fisk on Google who was arrested as a double homicide suspect. But his entry is very, very amusing nonetheless:

Chiam’s world was being torn assunder. In his heart, he knew how much the proletariat masses of Santa Cruz needed to believe in his brother. On the other hand, how could he condone Mordechai’s participation as the lead striker for his country’s national team, knowing full well the opening game of the World Cup not only occured on the Sabbath, but also on the night of the full moon? And, even though he did have the rabbi’s permission to “work” on a Friday night, would such an exemption have been forthcoming if Mordechai had let slip he would need to use an electric razor to make himself presentable for this public display?

I’ll even let slide the fact that Mr. Fisk misspelled both “asunder” and “occurred.” He can enjoy his signed copy of Infoquake from his cell in San Quentin or from Chiba City or wherever he resides these days.

Honorable Mention: Edward Finch.

I almost gave this one second prize. Mr. Finch’s passage is so intense that I suspected him of actually being a Jewish Marxist Werewolf in Bolivia.

David Irving had hidden the secret long ago, but it cried him up from his bunk each morning, with growls so fierce, and with such terse quips of Hebrew, he knew if the world had known, his swastika humping readership would betray him. They would corner him after his release from prison, thump him against the brick walls of the outer gates, and then throw punches at that all so clean and delicate wrinkly skin, bled white by all his lies, by all his books claiming the revival of their close-fisted dream, hiding the truth, of his visionary hope to the coming of that new Fuhrer in polyester suit and handle mustache, bestrode a white horse into the cherished castle he had painted with a prosaic of words in his fancy books. The words of doom and betrayal they would speak, brand his forehead with bloody stamp, a cry of remembrance to that experiment gone wrong in the Bolivian mountains and the family feud so rampant, it left psychotic David Irving distraught. Yes, his father had been a Jewish Bolshevik werewolf. David’s wrinkly, plump, conniving skin, shaved each morning to hide bristly gray hairs, and the guard outside, ready to discard all evidence to stall a prison riot, clarified the truth. Behind those bars in some dank German prison, a victim of his own hatred towards his father, he began to write another book of lies, the growls still slicing into his head with regret, making him shiver and also smile at his imagined world of castles, without his father, where he was the master, clad in a tan polyester suit busting open above the belt line to show his overhanging folds of fat, bestrode that white horse, in his fortress far away from the truth.

Honorable Mention: Norman Levinson

Mr. Levinson submitted a rather involved entry that included a Pamela Anderson mask and Borat singing “Throw the Jew Down the Well.” I reproduce a portion of it here:

The meticulously wound leather straps around young Chaim Talbot’s left arm were becoming excruciatingly taut… hair, fur! growing at an exponential rate until the tefillin box exploded from boychic Talbot’s forehead and propelled along a parabolic trajectory striking Rabbi cHegel in the head with blunt-force trauma.

A prostrate and breathless Rabbi cHegel: “Oy, g-d… forgive me. Ve don’t have a minyan! VE CANNOT CONTINUE THE SERVICE SHLOMO!”

Cantor Shlomo (staring at the two Tefillin boxes on Rabbi’s forehead): “vat u mean ve don’t have a minyan Rabbi?!”

Rabbi cHegel: “A minyan is required for our service shlomo… TEN ADULT MALES!… NOT NINE AND A VEREVOLF!!”

Thanks again to all who entered. You have assured me that I will never look at lycanthropy, religion, or left-wing political movements in South America the same way again.