I took a break manually updating entries from two years ago to go to the park and toss the ‘bee for a bit. What started out as a sodden day turned out better than expected. I enjoyed the weather, my time off from work and some thoughtfulness.
My hosting company, logjamming.com, was hacked last Thursday. If you missed it and would like to see what the hack ended up looking like, look at this. I’m keen to think that they were nice hackers.
…if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good behavior. –Economy
I don’t think I’ve ever written about food. I’m on an eat what I’m hungry for diet. This is not diet used in ‘what I eat to lose weight’ instead it is used in the ‘what I eat cause I’m hungry’ sense.
I read two books in two days. Yes, I’ve already finished the books I picked up Sunday at the library. Besides both having the word ‘heaven’ in the title and both using the word ‘milquetoast’ in the exposition, they are very different.
The Silence of Heaven by Peter Lord-Wolff is a pretty decent first novel. The plot concerns itself with Fallen Angels and a specific Fallen Angel named Tashum who is trying to return to the Light of Heaven. This take on the Fall is a new one for me and welcome, some might take it as a justification of the rebellion against God [or, in this book, the Voice] but those who see it this way are missing the author’s intention. [Yes, I set up a straw man to burn it down] Lord-Wolff gives an excellent construction for examining the spiritual nature of humanity by projecting the same desires onto a being with more grace. It is a rather good example of what I think is meant by:
“All the same,” replied Syme patiently, “just at present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp. I wonder when you would ever see the lamp by the light of the tree.” –G.K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday
The book also has a different take on the subject of vampires [I must admit I was disappointed when they showed up, I just wanted a book about angels and fallen angels]. In Lord-Wolff’s world vampires are created by drinking the blood of an angel. Which was interesting. As a whole the book was a promising first effort for a new author. I hope that he matures in his further novels.
Ursula K. LeGuin’s The Lathe of Heaven has finally secured her place among my favorite authors. The fact that she is the daughter of my second favorite anthropologist Alfred Kroeber definitely carries through into her work. I’ve always thought of anthropology as a sort of applied philosophy, a physical analysis of metaphysical being. LeGuin seems to understand this and takes it a step further. Instead of documenting and analyzing, she also fills her work with implication. She thinks things through and has an eerie understanding of the blocks and widgets that form a cultural system. She can take one of these blocks, change it slightly and make very good refractive/reflective statements on our own belief systems. She is a master at seeing the lamp by the light of the tree.
The Lathe of Heaven is a very complicated book. The plot concerns itself with a man named George Orr who dreams ‘effectively.’ That is, his dreams change reality. He is under the psychiatric care of a Dr. Haber, who is using Orr to play God and attempt to create a utopia. This novel addresses problems that are so complex I don’t really know how to explicate them. It is very psychological, it raises ethical dilemmas, questions the nature of reality, defines sanity is a startling manner, and undermines some of the inherent assumptions that we Westerners hold so dear. I read it cover to cover last night. Even if you don’t like speculative or science fiction you should read this book. The science-fiction is not heavy handed. It was made into a movie back in 1980 and then again into a movie by A&E both of which I am going to have to track down. Read this book.
ADDENDUM: I forgot to mention that I attribute this sudden jump back in to my usual reading habits to the fact that I now have a bed. I typically read fully reclined on a couch or bed and now that I have the latter I can read comfortably.
Everything is going to be alright. I finally understand. Yesterday I had an epiphany and reached enlightenment of a sort. I know you are madly in love with me; and that is okay. I’m writing this to tell you that being totally consumed by the fires of your ardor is a good thing. You don’t have to fight against it. Go ahead, surrender yourself to your passions and lose yourself in your love for me. There is nothing to fear of love.
I certainly didn’t expect this to be the case. Until yesterday I hadn’t realized what an amazingly fantastic person I am, how devastatingly handsome, how I am exactly what every woman on this earth wants. Every woman knows me, for I am her greatest desire. I had not imagined I was so inherently gifted. I must admit, it is quite the responsibility. That is, holding in my hands, as it were, the very beings of each of you. Having in my power, if I so chose to do so, the ability to make fists of my hands and destroy your very souls.
I must certainly appear quite godlike to you ladies. I can succor or smite thee, raise you up or cast you down into ruin. The power of this realization has gone to my head a bit. But still, there is no reason to fear love. There is no reason to pretend that you don’t know me, pretend that you don’t want me with every last gluon of your being. There is no longer any need for you to hide from your true feeling by saying that you love another. There is forevermore no real purpose to any resistance on your part to the engulfing force of your desire. Do not run away from love, instead run into it.
I can feel your heart race when you catch even the briefest glimpse of me. I am aware of the machinations and lengths to which you are willing to submit yourselves to in order to gain proximity to me. I am amazed at the strength of your character and in your abilities to successfully conceal your zeal all of these years. But I tell you now, that is no longer needed. I know. I know and I have accepted my responsibility. I have enough love for you all. Come unto me and find peace and fulfillment. Do not fear your love for me. I am here and no one of you need be afraid of your love again.
I ran into near rush-hour traffic this morning on the way to work and then discovered that many people must have decided that Monday was get to work ass-early just like Adam day. Yesterday, I ran to the library and picked up a couple of books, [The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. LeGuin and The Silence in Heaven by Peter Lord-Wolff] and my limit of three DVDs, all foreign. I nabbed Chushingura — Hana no maki yuki no maki [a shorter version of the same story in The 47 Ronin, and this one has Toshiro in it]; The 400 Blows [Criterion Collection DVD, w00t!]; and Ren? Clair’s ? nous la libert?. While running prior to that, I ran into some dog shit and it ran with me for the rest of my run. Or, at least it ran with me until I ran into a big sucking mud puddle and almost lost a hoof. Before that, I ran nowhere because I was still recovering from running into a wall on Saturday afternoon when the falafel I’d had Saturday morning decided to run around in my intestinal tract. I had done some running on Saturday whilst simultaneously throwing a frisbee as well.
Why am I always running everywhere? I should take the time to stop and smell the trees/bushes that grow along 77 and 90 and are there [in my theory] to cut the smell of the foundry/steel mill/chemical processing facility just past them. They smell familiar but I’m not sure what they are, exactly. When I actually go running my workout consists of running and then walking and then running and then walking and then running and then walking again. Not very disciplined. I figure, however, that if I just extend the amount of time my workout takes, then I will eventually be able to cut out most of the walking. I will end this entry abruptly.