A reflection........

Blogging weekly for nearly all of this year has taught me two things about myself. First of all, I have learned that I tend to point out flaws and things I do not like in the books I read. These flaws usually become the subjects of my blog posts. Second, I have learned that I much prefer writing in a notebook to blogging. Notebooks, to me, seem more personal. I enjoy writing in notebooks more, I can write in them whenever I like, and I can write down whatever I want without worrying about what people will think. Speaking of worrying about what people think, I think many people on the internet don't, but should. Many people take advantage of the amount of freedom they have on the internet. These people are not only teenagers, but are adults as well. I've always thought that adults are just as immature as children, they just hide it better. As to whether or not people are themselves on the internet, people that take advantage of their internet freedom perhaps are a bit too much of themselves. Then again, there are all kinds of people who use the internet. Some show everything about themselves, some show a middle quantity, and some people just hide behind layers of webpages.

I'm probably going to delete my blog. I may start it over again, with a different purpose and a fresh start, but I am not sure yet.

The rules have been spurned.

I have begun to read "Mostly Harmless", by Douglas Adams. This is a fantastic book in a series of equally fantastic books about fantastic occurrences on fantastic planets. These books do not really follow a plot, so to speak, but have a seemingly never-ending series of unusual and humorous events that, at unexpected points in the book, converge towards a central occurrence. Therefore I cannot explain the "plot" of this book to you fully, but I will tell you what you need to know in order to understand this blog post.

Previously in this series of books, the earth was blown up to make way for a new hyperspace express bypass. There were only two human survivors of this explosion: Arthur Dent and Tricia McMillan. Arthur went on to devote his life to the fine art of sandwich-making. Tricia went on to becoming a sort of space-time traveling news reporter. She constantly travels through time and space, and each time her future is not altered. Douglas Adams' writing can get very confusing, so it is necessary to stop and think every once in a while while reading his books. So, as I was contemplating his writings on space-time travel, I realized he had broken all of the rules.

What I mean by this is that whenever a form of writing includes someone traveling through space-time, there are always consequences. Let's say I travel back in time and alter something, which then alters something else, which then alters something else, and by the time I get back to my home in my time, my world is completely different.

Another example is the whole "I went back in time and met my past self" scenario, popular with the movie series "Back to the Future". Going back in time and meeting your past self would just alter your past self and your past self's decisions, which would also, in time, (ha ha), alter your future. Your life would still be altered, albeit through a different way.

As a side note, there's also the fact that if I go back in time, then go back to my own time, then do the same entire thing again, I have left three of my past selves behind. There's my original past self, then there's my present self that went to the past the first time, then there's my present self that went back in time the second time. Basically, you count your original past self and the number of times you dipped into the past and you have the number of past selves you're left behind. This just goes to show how traveling into the past can influence your future in a major way.

Douglas Adams didn't think of any of these aforesaid rules. He just wrote. I suppose that was somewhat of a liberating experience, saved him a lot of time, and allowed him to write about occurrences that wouldn't normally be able to happen. It also made for a damn good book.

But I still feel like it was chicanery. At least a little bit.


Postscriptum -

Another thought is that every time you dip into the future, you're dipping into the past of that time's future. 

Just a thought.

Leather Interior.

I have finished reading The House of the Scorpion, by Nancy Farmer. This book follows the life of a boy named Matt who discovers he is the clone of a wealthy drug lord. In Matt's world, clones are generally regarded as the scum of the earth.

In part of the book, the wealthy drug lord who Matt is a clone of (who is very, very old), is in an extremely critical medical condition. He needs Matt's heart to be transplanted into him in order to survive. Matt is about to be butchered against his will to save this man, but then Matt's caretaker speaks up. It turns out that she has been secretly giving him doses of arsenic and foxglove (which are poisons) in his meals in order to make his organs unstable and therefore unable to be used for transplants. However, Matt's caretaker did not feed him enough poison to harm him permanently.

This got me thinking as to how much or how little our immoral actions "harden" our conscience. The wealthy drug lord is a mean old crow of a character, and built his entire drug empire on killing, brainwashing, and enslaving others. Was the drug lord's decision to preserve his own life and to end Matt's life partly influenced by his extensive immoral criminal activities? I think that all of his killing, brainwashing, enslaving, murdering, stealing, butchering, pillaging, slaughtering activities were just callusing his conscience more and more until he really didn't feel any remorse in unethical deeds. This makes me wonder how much everything around me has influenced my future decisions as well. I never liked the video game and movie rating system, since my mother still doesn't let me watch R movies or play M video games, but now I'm starting to wonder if they are crucial to keeping us sensitized to immoral acts and violence.

Don't be a schmuck.

In our philosophy unit at school, we are beginning to read books that will get us to ponder philosophical issues. The book that my group has decided to read is The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer. this book is about a young boy names Matt who discovers he is a clone of a powerful drug lord. The book then follows Matt's life from then on.
As a clone, Matt is generally regarded as a unholy limb of Satan. In fact, in one chapter of the book, he is living in the equivalent of a chicken pen, if not in worse conditions, for several weeks.  This got me thinking as to why he was treated so badly. Yes, Matt is a clone, but he is generally a nice person, tries to do what is right, and has an ethics code of his own. He only represents the drug lord in appearance and DNA, not in personality, so if they don't like the drug lord then why should they hate him as well? Yes, he was created in a rather unusual way for a human, but is everyone's hatred of Matt just born out of ignorance of cloning? I believe that everyone doesn't like Matt just based on their beliefs that he was created in an unnatural and immoral way. If everyone that hated Matt thought about how many identical copies of organisms are out there, Matt would  have less of a hard time. Asexual reproduction (I'm using this as the rough equivalent of cloning) is used for the production of millions upon millions of plants and billions upon billions of bacteria. It's a completely natural thing that provides us with, for one, medicine. Also, without asexual reproduction, it is likely that ecosystems everywhere would fall apart without their base layer, plants. Cloning is helping us test products more efficiently, create cheap food, and is helping the world.

Books that are Dreaming in a City

Recently in the City of Dreaming Books, the main character, Optimus Yarnspinner, finds that there is a race of cyclopean organisms living in tunnel systems underneath the city of Bookholm. These creatures are intelligent, peaceful, practically worship books, and mine hundreds of diamonds that range from pumpkin size to apartment size. They also collect incredibly valuable books. They have a fearsome reputation, which was created in order to keep them untouched and safe from people who would do them harm.

While reading this, I thought that the creatures (called the Fearsome Booklings), perhaps didn't need to hide themselves away from all civilization at the risk of extinction. With their immense fortunes both of valuable books and diamonds, they could trade/sell their goods with the people aboveground. Then they would have money to do whatever they like: protect themselves, acquire more books,  acquire better mining technology, and promote the general well-being of their race. Since they could potentially fund just about all industry in Bookholm, this might also generate deep respect for the Booklings. Attacking them might eventually seem like attacking the government. If seriously attacked, their extinction could lead to the total collapse of society. Though exposure could improve their lives in many aspects, it could also lead to several problems. For instance, many people may immediately try to kill all of the Booklings and rob them of all of their possessions.

After thinking about this for a while, I've decided I don't think the Booklings should expose themselves. They already have a well-functioning life on their own that is pleasurable to them and doesn't have any problems or flaws. That is the perfect way to live: no problems, no concerns, no sadness.

Money Money Money.....If you start singing ABBA I'm gonna go crazy. Oh, and SPOILAH

I am currently reading The City of Dreaming Books by Walter Moers. In it, a Lindworm (Dinosaur type-thing) named Optimus Yarnspinner,  is bequeathed a fantastically written anonymous manuscript, by his late authorial godfather. Optimus then travels to Bookholm, a city totally devoted to literature, to try to find the author of the mysterious manuscript. Shortly after his arrival, he is directed to the abode of the city's most specialized book-expert, Voltozan Smyke. Now a bit later in the book, it is discovered that Smyke was approached by the manuscript's author at an earlier date. Smyke, who secretly owns almost all of the book industry in Bookholm, doesn't want this author to publish, as he is so good that Smyke thinks the author's works will dominate the market. This would affect Smyke's monopoly adversely, causing him to lose money. So, he performs extensive surgeries on the author, rendering him physically unable to live in daylight, and forced to live underground.

Upon thinking about this gruesome act further, I began to realize that Smyke's choice to horribly mutilate the author may have not been the most profitable choice, as money was what Smyke was after most. Instead of getting rid of a fantastic author and all the potential funds his work could bring in, Smyke could've done a range of different things For instance:

- Force (or bewilder) the author to sign a contract that Smyke is the sole dealer of all of the author's works and gets 90% (or a similarly ridiculous share) of the profits.

- Leave the author be, and once he thinks of publishing a work or two, murder him, steal all of his work, and publish it under a pseudonym. Then, Smyke would get all the profits.

- Play on the author's insecurity over whether he will ever be a successful author and persuade him to take a high-paying job in a different industry and desert writing (This choice wouldn't necessarily be more profitable, but would still get the author out of the picture without harming him.).

These are just a few different decisions Smyke could've made. I'm not entirely sure if he could've pulled one of them off, but I think with his connections (Since he owns most of the city's industry) he would be able to. I think the surgeries and banishment was a great plot twist, but perhaps not the most logical decision if you delve deeper into the book.

Crat Fat. Deep Fried and deeeeeeelicious! (Paula Deen certified)

I recently purchased and read Walter Moer's The Alchemaster's Apprentice. This book describes a crat named Echo. A crat, as I should explain, looks exactly like a cat but can speak in any language. Echo lives in Malaisea, a sickly, disease-infested town. After his owner dies, he is kicked out on the street and is promptly found by the unofficial ruler of Malaisea, Succumbius Ghoolion. Ghoolion is an alchemist, and wants Echo's fat to use in his life's work. Ghoolion offers to feed Echo fantastic food until the next full moon, and then kill him for his fat. Echo, who hasn't eaten in days, agrees and signs a contract with him. A happy tale of warped, dark-humored friendship. Having at least one brain cell, Echo eventually realizes he doesn't want to die, and tries to escape repeatedly.

This got me thinking. Is the best choice for Echo to escape? Echo has signed a contract with Ghoolion. If he escapes, Ghoolion's life work will be ruined, losing a crucial ingredient (Crat fat), but if he doesn't escape, Echo will die. So which decision makes the most sense when you look at both sides of the argument? Should Echo act in his best interests, break a contract, and ruin someone's life work, or should he stick to the contract, help Ghoolion reach his goal, and possibly help with a new alchemical discovery?

I started to apply these thoughts to my philosophy unit, which explores many different outlooks on life. So without further ado, here are philosophical takes on Echo's dilemma:

From a Nihilist's perspective, life doesn't really matter, and neither does anything else. So Echo should just die.

From a Hedonist's perspective, he should do whatever is happier for him. So Echo should escape and preserve his life.

From a Skepticist's perspective, how do we even know Ghoolion's going to kill him? How do we know there's a contract? How do we know Echo's even a crat? So I suppose a Skepticist would assume that Ghoolion wouldn't kill him. But he does, so Echo would die.

From a Pragmatist's perspective, escape is more beneficial. So Echo should escape.

From an Existentialist's perspective, Echo is totally free to do as he pleases, so he can leave at any time. Another vote for escape.

An Essentialist would say that since Echo is a crat, he signed the contract because he wanted to be domesticated again, as it is his custom. So die, Echo, die!

A Communitarianist would say that Echo should die for all other crats, as they are more important than just one crat. Echo would stay then.

And finally, a Fatalist would say cryptically, "It was FATE". So Echo would die.

I tallied up the votes! The results: Echo dies - 5 votes. Echo lives - 3 votes.

Philosophy says - Echo DIES.

Personally, I don't know what to decide on this issue. Since reading the book connects you somewhat to the character, I've grown fond of Echo, even if he is just ink and paper, so I think he should escape. However, from a logical point of view it makes more sense for Echo to die for the good of many (as pertaining to the alchemical experiment) and because he signed a contract, albeit in a somewhat delirious and weakened state.
So I suppose this makes me both a Communitarianist and a Hedonist.

Comment! Vote! Eat fish-tomatoes! Goodnight!