(and so, for the first time in months and months of blogging, i get writers block...)
well.
so.
erm.
well, bloggy, it's been fun. we've spent a great few months together and ummmmmmm, yeah. see ya.
(except i won't see ya, will i? I'll never see you again in my life. sure I'll consider it, it'll sit like a weight at the back of my mind for a few months, but I'll intentionally block it out until it goes away.)
we've still got our memories, remember back in those days of that distant year of 2010, when together we frolicked in the moral issues of charlottes web, or read gothic short stories? Or when we ranted about how much we hated and loved David Eggers, because we thought that it was better to insult the whole book and author then to admit that we didn't understand?
we were so different. we were so much younger. we had so much time.
and now everything is ending and time slips through my fingers like the last grains of sand through an hourglass that's almost reached one minute. we've gotten more poetic, in a bit of a self-conscious way, haven't we? it's a bit silly. but we hold on to our flowery metaphors and similes like... like...
lets get back to our goodbye. there isn't much time left now.
it's okay to leave you behind. please don't grasp my hand. please don't cry.
you were always homework. just homework. nothing more then that. if you thought there was something else between us, you imagined it! it was all in your head!!!!!! i hated writing for you! i'd always leave it until the last minute! haven't you noticed that i've been ignoring you this past month?! can't you tell? even now, i'm writing this two days late, bloggy. two days late.
stop it...
just stop it. this year has been terrible, and you're just another part of it. maybe you weren't so bad, but still, in my faltering memory you'll get drowned out by everything else.
why do i feel like i'm killing you??? i've never asked anything from you, i've always tried my best, this has always been the only homework that i've actually tried on.
the only one...
i am sad to be leaving you. to be killing you. maybe you'll survive somehow but right now i'm abandoning you.
oh god. i don't want to abandon you. i feel like online, for you, you've known me at my best. you've known me in a way that only my best friends do. for you, my voice has never been quiet. maybe on facebook or another website it would have been different, but i knew that with you, you'd always be there for me and only me. other websites are impersonal. but as much as i know that only one or two people will read this post, i know that you'll always be there for me, and only me.
thank you for that. for you, i get to feel like a better person. your silence has always been comforting.
I'm sorry about what i said. i don't hate you, i don't hate you at all.
i love you.
goodbye.
thank you.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
V for Vendetta- The Price Of Freedom
What is the price of freedom?
That's a question people have been asking for centuries.
First, lets define our terms. By freedom, i mean the freedom to worship, love, and speak how you want. the freedom to have your own political views. Freedom like that for everyone, no matter what nationality or race. I think everyone should agree that that is freedom.
And by price, i mean the cost of lives and other morals. What do you have to sacrifice in order to 'free' yourself and others? your religious beliefs? your moral ones? your life? someone else's?
In V for Vendetta, people either seem to think that freedom is worthless, or that it is priceless, two very similar sounding extremes.
on one hand, there's the government, who have a saying something like 'strength through unity, unity through faith'. they are a fascist government who control every aspect of peoples lives, from entertainment to news to hospitals. they lock their people up in concentration camps if they rebel or are radicals, or for reasons such as race or religion. The 'leader' is worshipped like a god. there is very little freedom in their regime.
On the other hand, there is V. V is raceless, faceless, and more than a little bit insane (in a dangerous way) and is the very embodiment of radicalism. He listens to music that the government has outlawed, like Motown, and watches movies they've tried to erase from ever existing. but not just that. he also kills and tortures important figures in the government.
of course, he's taking revenge for his own personal reason too, but he is mostly, through bombings and murders, taking down the government.
V stands up for what he believes in. but is it worth all that death? He kills so many people, just for an ideal. this seems terrible to me. but, then again, was there any other way? He is trying to free people from an oppressive and cruel government, so in the long run, i guess he's doing a good thing. But it sure doesn't seem like he's doing a good thing when he's quoting violent Shakespeare and sticking his fingers through people's chests. (well, it doesn't seem morally good, at least, even though it's really cinematic.)
The government does terrible things too. but does that mean that it's okay for V to? of course, he doesn't seem to have any moral scruples (the whole completely insane thing helps). But Evey does, and the readers do too. So, do the ends justify the means? I don't think so. But what if that's the only way to be free?
maybe. i hate to say this, because i don't think violence is ever necessary or okay, (at least not killing) but if i had to choose between some illegal death and very legal concentration camps, i'd choose death. because even though death is terrible, extermination is worse. and freedom is needed.
That's a question people have been asking for centuries.
First, lets define our terms. By freedom, i mean the freedom to worship, love, and speak how you want. the freedom to have your own political views. Freedom like that for everyone, no matter what nationality or race. I think everyone should agree that that is freedom.
And by price, i mean the cost of lives and other morals. What do you have to sacrifice in order to 'free' yourself and others? your religious beliefs? your moral ones? your life? someone else's?
In V for Vendetta, people either seem to think that freedom is worthless, or that it is priceless, two very similar sounding extremes.
on one hand, there's the government, who have a saying something like 'strength through unity, unity through faith'. they are a fascist government who control every aspect of peoples lives, from entertainment to news to hospitals. they lock their people up in concentration camps if they rebel or are radicals, or for reasons such as race or religion. The 'leader' is worshipped like a god. there is very little freedom in their regime.
On the other hand, there is V. V is raceless, faceless, and more than a little bit insane (in a dangerous way) and is the very embodiment of radicalism. He listens to music that the government has outlawed, like Motown, and watches movies they've tried to erase from ever existing. but not just that. he also kills and tortures important figures in the government.
of course, he's taking revenge for his own personal reason too, but he is mostly, through bombings and murders, taking down the government.
V stands up for what he believes in. but is it worth all that death? He kills so many people, just for an ideal. this seems terrible to me. but, then again, was there any other way? He is trying to free people from an oppressive and cruel government, so in the long run, i guess he's doing a good thing. But it sure doesn't seem like he's doing a good thing when he's quoting violent Shakespeare and sticking his fingers through people's chests. (well, it doesn't seem morally good, at least, even though it's really cinematic.)
The government does terrible things too. but does that mean that it's okay for V to? of course, he doesn't seem to have any moral scruples (the whole completely insane thing helps). But Evey does, and the readers do too. So, do the ends justify the means? I don't think so. But what if that's the only way to be free?
maybe. i hate to say this, because i don't think violence is ever necessary or okay, (at least not killing) but if i had to choose between some illegal death and very legal concentration camps, i'd choose death. because even though death is terrible, extermination is worse. and freedom is needed.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
V is always for Vendetta
Remember, remember, the fifth of November...
here's a little history for you:
In the early 1600's a small-ish group of catholics (today they might be called extremists) decided to blow up Parliament and King James I, for religious purposes. They came very, very close. they gained access to an undercroft under the house of lords. They brought massive amounts of gunpowder and Guy Fawkes was to guard it until they decided to light it.
Luckily (or unluckily depending on your perspective) the police got an anonymous note telling them all about the plot. (you can see the wiki article here)
the 5th of November became guy fawkes day, where his effigy is burned, and there's loads of lovely fireworks.
The writers of the graphic novel I'm currently reading, V for Vendetta, thought that Guy Fawkes should be worshipped, not burned, and this view is pretty much supported by the book.V for Vendetta takes place in a kind of dystopian future, but the near future, where a nuclear war has dominated most of the world, and Britain has a fascist government.
the book is mostly about a girl called Evey Hammond, and her life after she's saved from being raped and murdered by 'fingermen' (police) by V. V is a terrorist who wears a guy fawkes mask and costume (because at some point in his past he was in a government concentration camp and was disfigured and burned), and has a personal vendetta against the government officials who put him in the concentration camp.
V does things in an interesting way. He seems to have a sort of 'the punishment should fir the crime' rule.
for example, one man, general prothero, who tortured him when he was in the camp, and fed many other humans to the ovens. (V was not burned because he was part of a medical experiment.) Prothero collects dolls, so when V gets to him he pretends that they're back at the concentration camp, and burns all of the dolls, slowly. Eventually Prothero goes mad. He is not always so cruel. For the medical examiner who experimented on them he only injects her with a poison her sleep, waking her up to say goodbye.
But he isn't just taking it out on people for his own anger. He's also decided to bring down the government. But by taking out his vendetta on the people who ruined his life, he's already there.
It's easy to see that the government are the bad guys in this novel. But who is the good guy? V kills loads of people. Innocent people. But so did the government. does that make it OK?
I'm not sure what to think. instead of a basic bad vs. good, this story is an intricate web of angry vs. insanity, fueled by fear and hate.
I'm not sure if I want anyone to win anymore. I'm not sure if I want to see the end of this book. But the thing is, this seems almost painfully possible. more then anything, this makes me think:
politics are messy. and a decision costs lives.
here's a little history for you:
In the early 1600's a small-ish group of catholics (today they might be called extremists) decided to blow up Parliament and King James I, for religious purposes. They came very, very close. they gained access to an undercroft under the house of lords. They brought massive amounts of gunpowder and Guy Fawkes was to guard it until they decided to light it.
Luckily (or unluckily depending on your perspective) the police got an anonymous note telling them all about the plot. (you can see the wiki article here)
the 5th of November became guy fawkes day, where his effigy is burned, and there's loads of lovely fireworks.
The writers of the graphic novel I'm currently reading, V for Vendetta, thought that Guy Fawkes should be worshipped, not burned, and this view is pretty much supported by the book.V for Vendetta takes place in a kind of dystopian future, but the near future, where a nuclear war has dominated most of the world, and Britain has a fascist government.
the book is mostly about a girl called Evey Hammond, and her life after she's saved from being raped and murdered by 'fingermen' (police) by V. V is a terrorist who wears a guy fawkes mask and costume (because at some point in his past he was in a government concentration camp and was disfigured and burned), and has a personal vendetta against the government officials who put him in the concentration camp.
V does things in an interesting way. He seems to have a sort of 'the punishment should fir the crime' rule.
for example, one man, general prothero, who tortured him when he was in the camp, and fed many other humans to the ovens. (V was not burned because he was part of a medical experiment.) Prothero collects dolls, so when V gets to him he pretends that they're back at the concentration camp, and burns all of the dolls, slowly. Eventually Prothero goes mad. He is not always so cruel. For the medical examiner who experimented on them he only injects her with a poison her sleep, waking her up to say goodbye.
But he isn't just taking it out on people for his own anger. He's also decided to bring down the government. But by taking out his vendetta on the people who ruined his life, he's already there.
It's easy to see that the government are the bad guys in this novel. But who is the good guy? V kills loads of people. Innocent people. But so did the government. does that make it OK?
I'm not sure what to think. instead of a basic bad vs. good, this story is an intricate web of angry vs. insanity, fueled by fear and hate.
I'm not sure if I want anyone to win anymore. I'm not sure if I want to see the end of this book. But the thing is, this seems almost painfully possible. more then anything, this makes me think:
politics are messy. and a decision costs lives.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
just one catch
it's just one of those things, either you hate it, or you love it. and most people hate it.
Catch 22, i mean.
Here's a bit of history: in 1961 Joseph Heller published Catch 22, amid reviews so wounded and disapproving that it seemed as if critics felt that the author had written the book to spite the world personally. not to repeat myself, but people really, really, seriously hate this book. and, in a way, i can sympathize. the book is utterly repetitive with no proper sense of time. it makes very little sense. there is no clear climax.
And yet I've spent the last week or so rereading it. why? because this book really makes me think. it questions sanity, and insanity in everyday circumstances. in this book, all of the characters have been called crazy by someone at some time. but the really crazy thing is the system. catch 22 is set during world war two, in an American army base in a small island off Italy. the title refers to a rule which says that the only way to get out of flying dangerous missions is to plead insanity, but only the insane will fly the dangerous missions. so therefore if you try and get out of flying the mission you are only being sane, which is exactly what you can't be if you want to get out of flying. this is only one example of how the system makes no sense.
In it's cynical, bitter, rotten center, i think that this book is about war. about how war makes no sense. this is emphasized because it starts out in the hospital of the squadron. it says that there is a much higher casualty rate outside the hospital then in, and about the nurses were irritated because they make people better just to have them go and die.
Heller writes with sarcasm and comedy, but really this is a strangely complete portrait of war. As the main character, Yossarian, asks repeatedly and simply "why are they trying to kill me?" At first this seems ridiculous, because of course hitler and Mussolini and all of the people bombing and shooting and poisining him don't have him personally in mind. but does that make it any better? he is still in danger, and people are still trying to kill him. 'it's nothing personal' is not a good enough excuse to make murder acceptable. nothing is. So why is it so different in war, when the soldiers are killing what to them is an abstract, non-personal force, instead of real people?
when at first this book seems like a muddled mass of madness and chaos, making less sense then alice in wonderland as an interprative dance, it shapes itself into a few big ideas about life and the lack thereof, and The Horror Of It All.
One question especially lingers in my mind. why is it so much easier to want to kill someone you can't see? Why does anonnimity make slaughter seem morally sound?
Catch 22, i mean.
Here's a bit of history: in 1961 Joseph Heller published Catch 22, amid reviews so wounded and disapproving that it seemed as if critics felt that the author had written the book to spite the world personally. not to repeat myself, but people really, really, seriously hate this book. and, in a way, i can sympathize. the book is utterly repetitive with no proper sense of time. it makes very little sense. there is no clear climax.
And yet I've spent the last week or so rereading it. why? because this book really makes me think. it questions sanity, and insanity in everyday circumstances. in this book, all of the characters have been called crazy by someone at some time. but the really crazy thing is the system. catch 22 is set during world war two, in an American army base in a small island off Italy. the title refers to a rule which says that the only way to get out of flying dangerous missions is to plead insanity, but only the insane will fly the dangerous missions. so therefore if you try and get out of flying the mission you are only being sane, which is exactly what you can't be if you want to get out of flying. this is only one example of how the system makes no sense.
In it's cynical, bitter, rotten center, i think that this book is about war. about how war makes no sense. this is emphasized because it starts out in the hospital of the squadron. it says that there is a much higher casualty rate outside the hospital then in, and about the nurses were irritated because they make people better just to have them go and die.
Heller writes with sarcasm and comedy, but really this is a strangely complete portrait of war. As the main character, Yossarian, asks repeatedly and simply "why are they trying to kill me?" At first this seems ridiculous, because of course hitler and Mussolini and all of the people bombing and shooting and poisining him don't have him personally in mind. but does that make it any better? he is still in danger, and people are still trying to kill him. 'it's nothing personal' is not a good enough excuse to make murder acceptable. nothing is. So why is it so different in war, when the soldiers are killing what to them is an abstract, non-personal force, instead of real people?
when at first this book seems like a muddled mass of madness and chaos, making less sense then alice in wonderland as an interprative dance, it shapes itself into a few big ideas about life and the lack thereof, and The Horror Of It All.
One question especially lingers in my mind. why is it so much easier to want to kill someone you can't see? Why does anonnimity make slaughter seem morally sound?
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Let's Analyze!
I am currently reading a book called 'Presentation Of Self In Everyday Life' by Erving Goffman which, as you may have summized, is not exactly a pulpy romance (even though that would be pretty interesting). It's a book on sociology, and it's main thesis is, put in the crudest and simplest terms, that all the world's a stage. I mean really, the whole world's a stage, and this book is a playbill. In the world of Irving Goffman you're not a person, you're a performer, and the people around you are your audience and so on and so forth. Which sounds a bit mad when you first think about it, as well as alarmingly cynical, but makes more and more sense as you get deeper and deeper into the book.
I don't claim to be even halfway through this wordy and conceptual essay, but when i got substantually into this book I came to a somewhat scary realization: everything added up! I don't just mean that the world is stagey, or that some aspects are similar, but it works. perfectly. down to the smallest detail of human behavior. I started re-evaluating everything I did. I don't know why, but it disturbed me to think that this book could be true.
Why did it scare me so much? I don't completely understand myself. I mean, I've thought countless times that people were predictable, or that people make a drama out of ordinary life. But i never realized Just How Predictable We Are. And that scares me.
One of the basic concepts of the book is the theory of two different types of performers, cynical and sincere. The sincere performers tell mostly the truth, and generally believe that the truth is the right thing to say and therefore what people want to hear. (this is in daily life, and not a strict rule, you are not a cynic if you lie to spare a friends feelings.) The cynic performer, however, believes that they should tell people what they want to hear over what's true. For example, a doctor who uses a placebo.
I always considered myself to be cynic-leaning, but recently i've started to rethink that. This book surprised me because, in a way, i wanted it to be wrong. I wanted it to seem ridiculous, so that the world wouldn't seem like a performance. Because it's one thing for a teenager to mutter something, but a completely different thing for a whole book to prove something. It's a slightly heartless way to look at the world, and I'm not entirely comfortable with it. But am I lying to myself about really, ultimately believing something I don't want to? And just because I believe it, but don't want to, am I still a cynic?
No matter what other things it's done, this book has definitely made me think, and hard. Which, I suppose may have been it's purpose in the first place.
I don't claim to be even halfway through this wordy and conceptual essay, but when i got substantually into this book I came to a somewhat scary realization: everything added up! I don't just mean that the world is stagey, or that some aspects are similar, but it works. perfectly. down to the smallest detail of human behavior. I started re-evaluating everything I did. I don't know why, but it disturbed me to think that this book could be true.
Why did it scare me so much? I don't completely understand myself. I mean, I've thought countless times that people were predictable, or that people make a drama out of ordinary life. But i never realized Just How Predictable We Are. And that scares me.
One of the basic concepts of the book is the theory of two different types of performers, cynical and sincere. The sincere performers tell mostly the truth, and generally believe that the truth is the right thing to say and therefore what people want to hear. (this is in daily life, and not a strict rule, you are not a cynic if you lie to spare a friends feelings.) The cynic performer, however, believes that they should tell people what they want to hear over what's true. For example, a doctor who uses a placebo.
I always considered myself to be cynic-leaning, but recently i've started to rethink that. This book surprised me because, in a way, i wanted it to be wrong. I wanted it to seem ridiculous, so that the world wouldn't seem like a performance. Because it's one thing for a teenager to mutter something, but a completely different thing for a whole book to prove something. It's a slightly heartless way to look at the world, and I'm not entirely comfortable with it. But am I lying to myself about really, ultimately believing something I don't want to? And just because I believe it, but don't want to, am I still a cynic?
No matter what other things it's done, this book has definitely made me think, and hard. Which, I suppose may have been it's purpose in the first place.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
alive- a welcome home chillier then the Andes- REVISED
http://claratheawesome.blogspot.com/2011/03/alive-welcome-home-chillier-then-andes.html
alive- a welcome home chillier then the andes
I've finished reading 'Alive" (for the plot see my last blog post here ) and have sufficiently lost my faith in the morality of mankind. Even though the 17 surviving men were rescued, it took way too long for them all to get back home. When the two sent on an 'expidition' finally stumbled across a tiny house, they had to wait days to convince people that they really were the survivors, and that this was not a hoax or a misunderstanding (there had been several before). I expected the escape and recovery to be quick, but it was just as drawn-out and painful as the rest of the book.
alive- a welcome home chillier then the andes
I've finished reading 'Alive" (for the plot see my last blog post here ) and have sufficiently lost my faith in the morality of mankind. Even though the 17 surviving men were rescued, it took way too long for them all to get back home. When the two sent on an 'expidition' finally stumbled across a tiny house, they had to wait days to convince people that they really were the survivors, and that this was not a hoax or a misunderstanding (there had been several before). I expected the escape and recovery to be quick, but it was just as drawn-out and painful as the rest of the book.
But the worst thing, it seemed, was the media. Of course everyone had wanted to know how they'd survived for so long. The survivors were all in questionable and unstable mental states, and mostly didn't want to talk and be judged. But the secret could not be kept quiet for long, so the men decided to tell the press what they'd done, and hope that they'd understand.
I'd love to say that the press was understanding and kind. I'd love to say that no one minded them too muck, and that they were hailed as heroes. I'd love to say that they went off and led normal, happy lives. But the press reacted exactly the way that I'd dreaded they would. They hounded the survivors, spreading stories of wild canabalism and attacks. Of men preying on the weaker men.
To the already fragile men, public hatred was torture. But in a way, it was just the tabloids destroying yet another persons story. It happens every day. Why should these people be any different?
somehow, I feel like thay should be. but why? Maybe it's because they've been through... a life or death experience. but does that make them better then your average tabloid-hounded pop star?
Thursday, March 24, 2011
the end of dracula- luck
So after long last, I've finished reading Dracula. (You can see my other post on Dracula here)
It had a worthy, if slightly predictable ending, which i won't spoil because you really should read the book. But then again, how can the ending not be predictable? It's Dracula, for gods sake. That's like saying the bible is predictable! (no offence, i just mean that the fame of the story is similar)
Which leads me to think, how did this story get so famous? Bram Stoker was a cheap, not-very-popular writer. Yes, Dracula was a big sucess, but do you expect Twilight to be around in over 100 years? Maybe.But maybe not. (This made me think about an earlier post where I thought about the staying power of jokes and books.)
While reading the notes and things in the back I came across an interesting fact. It seems that one of the reasons that the story of Dracula has stayed with us for so long is because Stokers widow sold the movie rights to Dracula right at the turn of the century. So the classic is retold again and again in adaptations and spin-offs.
Which made me think: is this the only reason why it was remembered? Was it really for the story, or for the fact that I've heard it referenced all my life in everything from Scooby Doo to True Blood? What if there are hundreds of other books, just as good, all forgotten in time because no one could ever make a film about it?
It had a worthy, if slightly predictable ending, which i won't spoil because you really should read the book. But then again, how can the ending not be predictable? It's Dracula, for gods sake. That's like saying the bible is predictable! (no offence, i just mean that the fame of the story is similar)
Which leads me to think, how did this story get so famous? Bram Stoker was a cheap, not-very-popular writer. Yes, Dracula was a big sucess, but do you expect Twilight to be around in over 100 years? Maybe.But maybe not. (This made me think about an earlier post where I thought about the staying power of jokes and books.)
While reading the notes and things in the back I came across an interesting fact. It seems that one of the reasons that the story of Dracula has stayed with us for so long is because Stokers widow sold the movie rights to Dracula right at the turn of the century. So the classic is retold again and again in adaptations and spin-offs.
Which made me think: is this the only reason why it was remembered? Was it really for the story, or for the fact that I've heard it referenced all my life in everything from Scooby Doo to True Blood? What if there are hundreds of other books, just as good, all forgotten in time because no one could ever make a film about it?
I used to be generally against the movie-from-books genre, but now I'm not so sure. It helped save Dracula, didn't it? Or did it? I personally think that it did. So maybe all this 'test of time' stuff is complete rubbish. Maybe all that matters is what you sold just at the right time.
And luck. Definitely luck.
P.S. sorry that this isn't technically about the book, but the subject seemed really interesting to me. Tell me if this isn't ok. :(
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)