Tag Archives: Reading

Thought of the Week: It Happened Again

This is all getting a little bit too much, and I’m starting to get worried. My blog appears to be having an unintentional effect on some of the people reading it. At first, I thought it was just a one-off, and I reassured myself it wouldn’t happen again.

The second time, I began to be concerned. What kind of thoughts was I planting in my readers’ heads? Without meaning it, I was playing mind games; I actually seemed to have the power to redirect their thoughts. It was worrisome.

And now – it has happened a third time. And I realize that it is now inescapable. I began this blog as a way to express myself, to open myself and my writing to the world. As it grew, I began to write about other topics that concerned and humored me, and over time, I realized that there were a few people out there who seemed interested in what I had to say. Some of them told me their thoughts; others gave me feedback without comment.

And so it appears that, for as long as I continue to blog, these things will keep happening. I have to remind myself that it is outside of my power to influence these people, and they will act the way they do when they read my words. I must simply accept it.

That’s right: I’ve received another award!

I made my own again – what do you think?

This one comes courtesy of Dan Kline, over at What to do about me and D.I.D.. I discovered his blog a while back, and have been touched at his daily struggles, and the commitment he makes to his family in spite of them. I’ve gained inspiration from him for my own turbulence, and his support has come to mean a lot. He has also shown a remarkable devotion to my little story, and his multitudinous compliments have turned my ears red on more than one occasion!

So in a lovely irony, he has nominated me for the Reader Appreciation Award – being one of my most-appreciated readers!

Now, this award comes with a few rules, so I will abide by them this time…

  1. Include the award logo somewhere in your blog. ✔
  2. Answer the ten questions below for fun, if you want to. ✔
  3. Nominate ten to twelve blogs that you enjoy (or you pick the number).
  4. Pay the love forward: provide your nominees with a link to your post and comment on their blog to let them know they’ve been included and invited to participate.
  5. Pay the love back with gratitude and a link to the blogger(s) who nominated you. ✔

Or not. The truth is, the bloggers I appreciate know who they are, and if they don’t (!), they’re at the bottom of every page, all the time. Bear in mind that there are many, many blogs out there that I love; these ones are those that have impacted me, and made a difference in my life.

And now, you get to learn even more about me!

  1. What is your favorite color? Any color, as long as it’s black.
  2. What is your favorite animal? The cat, followed closely by spiders, octopi and falcons.
  3. What is your favorite non-alcoholic drink? Honestly? Are they trying to make this as unexciting as possible? Fine – water. Isn’t that kind of crazy? It has to be good water, mind you. Something cold and pure, from a high mountain stream, preferably.
  4. Which do you prefer: Twitter, or Facebook? Talk about choosing the lesser of two evils. Facebook lets me post meaningless trite; Twitter lets me post slightly shorter meaningless trite. I very much enjoy being prosaic, so I’d have to go with Facebook.
  5. What is your favorite pattern? Um…you know, I never really thought much about this one. Giving this question a once-over in my mind, I’d have to say organized chaos. The sort of thing where a vast system of entities is strewn about at random, each independent the others…and then, for one, brief, glorious moment, everything aligns, snaps into place, and you’re given the briefest glimpse of the true meaning of the universe. Then – it all disintegrates, and the world once more turns to dust. Sort of like a Rubik’s cube.
  6. Would you rather give or receive presents? That depends on the present.
  7. What is your favorite number? Three. And seven.
  8. What is your favorite day? In life? The day my son was born. In general? The first day that the breeze comes cool, and the scent of woodsmoke is on the air, and the leaves shine crimson and gold in the fading light of the ever-earlier sunset.
  9. What is your favorite flower? Easy – the orchid.
  10. What is your passion? Well now…it’s been some time since I’ve felt any true passion. My book, however, has been a driving force for some time now, and it is a prospect that still keeps me going. Other than that, music is a thing I could not live without. Dark, sweet and soothing, it puts to rest a mind that is so often uneasy.

And that’s it! This award is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain.

The Redemption of Erâth: History of Erâth – The First Age (Part 2)

(ii) The Age of Light

The Age of Light – usually referred to as the true First Age – was the first, and perhaps, greatest triumph of Men in the history of Erâth. This bright period of prosperity saw immense advancements in the ability of Men to tame the environment, the expansion of Men into every corner of Erâth, and prolonged life far beyond that of Men before, or ever after. It was the first time that Men began to believe their place in the foundations of Erâth, as the seventh great power, alongside the Mirèn, Namirèn, Illuèn, Duithèn, Sarâthen and Portèn. This time in the history of Men was the brightest ever seen; it was also the briefest.

The First Age lasted a mere three hundred years; by comparison, it had taken Men nearly three thousand years to reach this point in their brief development, and nearly six thousand years have passed since. Men soon learned to use their advancements to stave off the inevitability of death, increasing lifespans rapidly to nearly two hundred years, excepting any unforeseen accidents. Even disease was nearly eradicated.

It was in this greed and desire to become the Eternal as Men thought they were fated […]

Read the complete section here.

Tales of Despair: Metamorphosis

 

School has a way of taking beautiful works of art and literature and turning them into the most abysmal, monotonous and over-analyzed trite. I was very glad to have read To Kill a Mockingbird long before high school, because it most certainly would have ruined for me. The same is true of The Catcher in the Rye and Of Mice and Men; thanks to my mother’s literary promiscuity (now that doesn’t sound good, does it?), I was exposed to a great canon of wonderful books at a young age, long before school was able to ruin them for me. Some were unsalvageable; I can’t see Macbeth without my mind involuntarily calling up hours of drudgery, trying to find the social implications of the blood on Lady Macbeth’s hands.

One that I barely escaped with was Franz Kafka‘s bizarre tragedy, The Metamorphosis (Die Verwandlung). I discovered it in the school library one day, after someone had suggested it as a great example of existentialism. I’m not to convinced of this anymore, but at the time existentialism was one step away from nihilism, and I was sorts of crazy.

The Metamorphosis is only short, and is very nearly a study in fictional writing taken to an extreme. The best fiction is that which is almost real – introducing a single fantastical element, and watching the fallout. Such is the case when traveling salesman Gregor Samsa wakes up as a giant insect. This is, in a way, the only fiction in the tale; the rest is reactionary.

Imagine being that insect; there is nothing tying you to the reality you knew only the night before; your very body has betrayed you, you are unable to control your movements, and your voice is unrecognizable. Your family, those closest to you, are disgusted by your appearance. Your father wishes you dead, your mother pretends you aren’t there, and only your sister – your closest friend – has even the courage to throw table scraps into the room.

Gregor begins to hide under furniture, all the while desperately clinging to his humanity. His family, seeing his grotesque form, are unaware that he is still able to hear and understand their every word…even when they discuss his own demise.

And eventually, of course, the tale ends; as befits a cockroach, Gregor eventually crawls under a couch, and dies.

Kafka had the strength of will to push his story to its final, logical conclusion; so often remiss in modern fiction, he realized the nature of Gregor’s metamorphosis, and the importance of its permanence. The great changes in life are undoable – both the good, and the bad. Many of us, I’m sure, have at times felt as though we are that insect; deviant, shunned, unwanted and loathed, a burden on those closest to us. And in this, Kafka doesn’t shy away in asking: are we all merely looking for that couch to crawl under?