From p.439 of PoD (VII.2):
Listening to the humming restlessness of the vast city, he absorbed the vibrations in the air, the mixture of scents that filled every breath, unfiltered by stillsuit nose plugs.
See the problem there? (Yes, it's another one of those "little" nitpicking details that obviously doesn't matter to Kevin or his fans.) Maybe this quote from Dune will help:
Kynes knelt, examined the leg seals. "Urine and feces are processed in the thigh pads," he said, and stood up, felt the neck fitting, lifted a sectioned flap there. "In the open desert, you wear this filter across your face, this tube in the nostrils with these plugs to insure a tight fit. Breathe in through the mouth filter, out through the nose tube. With a Fremen suit in good working order, you won't lose more than a thimbleful of moisture a day—even if you're caught in the Great Erg."
Got it yet?
Wearing a stillsuit, you're breathing in through your mouth and out through your nose. THAT would reduce your ability to smell. Besides, the nose plugs would prevent air from entering, so they wouldn't ever be "filtering" smells, now would they?
Repeat after me: THEY JUST DON'T GET IT.
Later, at the end of the same "chapter" (p. 442, emphasis added):
"Shai-Hulud! To me!" Paul planted his feet properly, gauging the worm's approach, and at just the right moment, hooked one of the ring segments. He clasped the rope and scrambled up the worm's pebbly side.
This was only a medium-size worm. It would serve him well enough, without being impressive, though he was sure the observers would describe it as the greatest ever seen on Dune. Without a backward glance, paying no heed to the cheers and praise, Paul scrambled onto the beast's back. He inserted the spreaders in a practiced manner, opened the worm segments to the sensitive flesh beneath, and struck the worm's head with his goad. Anchoring himself with his ropes, he turned the beast and raced out onto the open dunes, spraying sand and dust.
Gawd, where to start?
A lone rider would get on top of a worm as it turned to keep the segment the rider was exposing away from the sand. He wouldn't have to "scramble" up it.
Are scales "pebbly"? I guess it depends on your personal definition of the words. Anyway:
FH in Dune wrote: Paul glanced down at the scaled ring surface on which they stood, noted the character and size of the scales, the way they grew larger off to his right, smaller to his left.
"Spreaders" are NOT mentioned ONCE in any of FH's books. But they do appear in the new books. They're...um...from the Lynch movie, right?
Next, who ever hit a worm's head to goad it on?
FH wrote: And far to the rear along the worm's surface, Paul heard the beat of the goaders pounding the tail segments. The worm began picking up speed.
Let's just cut to the chase and see how it was really done:
Paul lifted his hooks, sighted along them, leaned in. He felt them bite and pull. He leaped upward, planting his feet against that wall, leaning out against the clinging barbs. This was the true instant of the testing: if he had planted the hooks correctly at the leading edge of a ring segment, opening the segment, the worm would not roll down and crush him.
The worm slowed. It glided across the thumper, silencing it. Slowly, it began to roll—up, up—bringing those irritant barbs as high as possible, away from the sand that threatened the soft inner lapping of its ring segment.
Paul found himself riding upright atop the worm. He felt exultant, like an emperor surveying his world. He suppressed a sudden urge to cavort there, to turn the worm, to show off his mastery of this creature.
Suddenly he understood why Stilgar had warned him once about brash young men who danced and played with these monsters, doing handstands on their backs, removing both hooks and replanting them before the worm could spill them.
Leaving one hook in place, Paul released the other and planted it lower down the side. When the second hook was firm and tested, he brought down the first one, thus worked his way down the side. The maker rolled, and as it rolled, it turned, coming around the sweep of flour sand where the others waited.
Paul saw them come up, using their hooks to climb, but avoiding the sensitive ring edges until they were on top. They rode at last in a triple line behind him, steadied against their hooks.
OK, all together again: THEY JUST DON'T GET IT.
And what's worse, they couldn't even fucking be bothered to look at the original book to check the details.
Finally, Freak, here's a special one from the following chapter, just for you!
Hiker Hack and the other guy on p. 446 of PoD wrote:Though Alia could not control the mechanics of the dice rolls, she gradually began to realize how these men were interpreting—and manipulating—the results. As for herself, she had a far more interesting means of cheating. With glimpses of prescience, Alia could determine how most of the rolls would come out. Even with the dice subtly weighted to give unexpected results, she could frequently see which dice to hold back and which ones to play, then place bold wagers accordingly. "Luck" was with her in a more concrete way than any other gambler could imagine.