The Kingdom of this World- Carpentier

    This book follows the life of a Haitian slave who lives to see the Haitian slave revolt and lives to see many imprisoned once more. As a small handful of you may know, I loathe retells. So, I highly suggest that you click this link: http://www.travelinghaiti.com/history_of_haiti/slave_rebellion.asp. Only, this sight does not tell the story of The Kingdom of this World; the story of voodoo and slaves being ripped apart by crazed dogs. Nor does it mention the make-shift shelter of Ti Noel, our fictional companion throughout the book. Nor does 'travelinghaiti' depict the image of Haiti's first black king sinking into a pool of mortar by the hand of a priest and under the eye of a wife.
     I don't usually like books that involve slavery for two main reasons: firstly, I don't like historical fiction... unless it's The Picture of Dorian Gray. Secondly, books about slavery tend to have a strong 'black pride' streak. And, I'm not a black pride admirer. Actually, I don't like it when anybody takes too much pride in their race. It creates a vial mixture social Darwinism, arrogance, and an over-abundance of pride. Well, maybe I'll go into that more in a later post. There are though, of course, exceptions. I enjoyed the The Classic Slave Narratives for instance. But, either way, this book was a pleasing.
     The way in which it's written is extremely unique and I've never seen a style quite like it before. The sentences  nearly always contain at least 2 commas. And, while the end of the sentence may be seemingly odd in comparison to the start of the sentence. Carpenteir created multiple mental pictures and moods by wielding a single sentence. The book had a vague feeling to it, but I felt as though I could look back at earlier events and recall them as I would memory of my own. There a extremely vivid moments amid a rush of commotion or thought. Which, really, as an amazing feeling for an author to be able to craft for a reader.
     My dad has a very smart, well-read friend who has a witty and well-read wife. The two of them suggest and lend books to me so I have to pay tribute to them for helping me find an enjoyable piece of literature.

Either way, I miss the cosmos so be prepared for a non-fiction post next week.

Subarashii Sekai-

     I have been motivated to not do anything at all. Therefore, I will not create a legitimate blog post. Perhaps I'll take a nap.

*sigh*

     It seems that I'm not able to overlook my obligations towards the betterment of my education.

     For those of you who do not know, I adore manga. I get home, I game, I read manga, I game, I read manga... so on and so forth. But, I discovered a new series that seems to have been made out of condensed talent and artistic ability... oh, wait... did I just say 'seems'? Well, I meant to say that it's goddamn genius.

     I've been following a manga call Oyasumi Punpun for many a month. My favorite manga site, mangafox, has a feature that allows you to view other works by the same mangaka. I took advantage of this wonderful tool and managed to find something even more beautiful than Oyasumi Punpun, I found Subarashii Sekai  (What a Wonderful World). It was magnificently depressing and, due to my being a pessimist, the optimistic notes passed right over my head. Heh. Stupid optimism.
     I suppose that I've built up an immunity of sorts to depressive bouts, so it did not take long for my despair and loss of faith in not only humanity but also in myself to magically transform into being tired of having to care about things that I felt I did not necessarily have to exert an effort towards (thus explaining the first two sentences of this post). For years now, I've been hoping to fall asleep or to fast forward a good 10 years, skipping over my seemingly unnecessary adolescence. I've had the same level of maturity since I've been 5. I do not need 19 extra years of practice. Hahahaha. Now I shall leave and pet my soft cat, who, I'm sure, had the honor of slaughtering pups in her last life. Only my cat hates me.... I guess I'll just have to clone her over and over again until she acquires a more suitable personality.

*poof!* blog post complete!

My Fictitious loves

     Firstly, I am the only one allowed to refer to them in this manner. I am much more than willing to glare, shout, cover my ears, eyes and refuse to speak to whomever is bold enough to deny their existences. While I've my growing array of companions and mentors that I myself create and admire, there are others; the originals to some extent.
     I have been mourning over the death of my dearest, dearest L for around 3 years. The death of lovely Dorian was also a bit of shock to me. But, L has always had a special place in my heart.
     I'm not sure if it's normal to not feel ashamed while admitting my love for characters from mangas, books, my imagination. They just manage to reach a point of perfection that no human can ever acquire. My wounds were slowly healing. I was eventually able to think about L without having tears well in my eyes. The degree of my denial started to decrease. But then, I saw a treasure peacefully resting upon Mr. Gordon's desk. Death Note: volume 1. Upon asking to take it home, permission was granted and my wounds were pried open once more. For months last year, I tried to find out the mangaka's address in order to send her a hate note, or anything that would be able to convey the amount of pain that she forced me to endure by killing L. And, as of yesterday, I found myself having to fight that urge. To try to conquer my love.
     I've always had a bit of an imagination. Though my daydreaming has become much more intensified over the past few years, it's always found ways to weasel its way into my life, creating some sort of social boundary for me. I used to have an imaginary friend, who's name I cannot remember. She left me. She said that she was going on a trip to Paris and she never came back. I wanted her to, but some part of brain was screaming, 'NO! She's not coming back! Stop lying to yourself!'. It is that voice that taunts me daily, 'He's dead, stop pretending that your L will be revived', 'Dorian Grey was asking for it...'.
     So, of course, I fight back. I imagine even more and drown my rationality in my disregard for reality. Currently, L is happily living in Russia. He enjoys his quite and wintry surroundings and often sits by a fogged window, sipping sweet tea and eating strawberry shortcake, gazing out his window and into the large clouds above. L is happy, and at piece. Dorian never tried to destroy the painting. He bought a nice house in London with easy access to the theater. He's living alone but often visits Basil (whom he never truly killed) secretly in the night. Indulging himself in the relationship that Wilde was not allowed to let them have. My cat roams the school building. Elegantly hopping in the desk, purring. Within a moment, the room will be silent and empty, calming me down. Or, maybe, I've turned everybody in the unsettling and loud classroom into variables or cats or animate sheets of paper.
     Combating rationality with imagination is fun, though not in the least bit socially beneficial. But if I have Emmie and my other, fictional friends, then who cares? If I end up being social inept, then I'll just become a computer programmer. Which is convenient for I love computers as much as I do cats.

I apologize for the extremely low quality of this post.

The Scarlet Letter- Beta

The Scarlet Letter

     A women who lives in a Puritan village commits one of the most frowned upon sins; adultery. Having been pitied, Hester's life was spared, instead, she was made to wear an embroidered A on her dress. To do so, she used scarlet threads and branded herself with a beautiful A which reflected the evening sun when she was first released from her prison cell.
     I use the word branded intentionally, Hester will live her life with the townsfolk glaring at the medal of her sin. When she dies, her tombstone will be engraved with the letter she bore for nearly all of her life. It's spectacular, seeing the way that Hester was so quickly isolated from the community that she'd once been apart of. Though she sews clothing for those around her, they do not meet her eyes. It seems that they're only able to stare at the A on Hester's bosom. Walking to market, Hester's chest is singed with each disapproving glare. Her cheeks are made red by the way her customers freely make it known that they're disgusted by how unfaithful she'd been to her husband (who, by the way, hasn't been around Hester for years).

     Hester endures this punishment with pride. The cloth covering her hair and the scarlet letter became ritual for her, a sort of misery and banishment that she grew accustomed to. She lives her life silently. I often imagine her striding through the town square, looking ahead into nothingness, her feet barely grazing the ground. I see her looking downwards, slightly, feeling unworthy of letting her eyes roam from the trodden on dirt below her. It seems that Hester realized that her life was just one to be sneered at. I don't think that Hester wished for death, but perhaps she wouldn't care if she hadn't been born, perhaps she would be too distanced from reality to acknowledge her own passing.   
     Logically, Hester secludes herself in a desolate abandoned cottage, rarely leaving, rarely speaking, friendless but spared of the townsfolk' resentment towards her. Who would do differently? Of course though, there always be those who claim to 'thrive on social interactions' and 'will die if they've only themselves for company!'. And, of course, there are the folks who shun social isolation. Why? I do not know. Many claim that it is unhealthy, but to leave your cottage only to be shunned is better than mental peace? To only stare at dirt paths and be gawked at, as if she were an animal in a cage? 
     Personally, I like to spend my entire weekends inside, ignoring emails, and with my cellphone's battery left uncharged. Being alone is nice. It's not as though that if I were to leave my fort, I'd be bombarded with words of hate and disapproval, but why spend time with humans when I can daydream about more ideal things... more intriguing people, quieter places, massive, burnt forests, silk ballroom gowns, empty mansions overlooking a lonely plain, visited only by scorched, sacred trees? Where's that sort of appeal to be found in reality? Why waste time roaming congested city streets? Why go outside to only be welcomed by the same monotonous buildings and songs and chairs? I truly do not see the point in all of it, I've already created a much more interesting world of my own. 

     There are differences between Hester and I. I do not think that Hester daydreamed in her cottage, I'm quite sure that her thoughts continued to dwell in reality. Hester willingly accepted the consequences for what she'd done, she never let herself stray from her punishment, not even while secluded in her house. This leads to yet another difference, I'm not able to accept reality, it's much too displeasing. It's boring and empty. I'm most likely facing the consequences of some sort of action, but for what was I punished? Why have I been, for so long, unable to accept this world?  

Link: http://awakethegomer.blogspot.com/2011/02/scarlet-letter.html#comments

Yet Again- Asimov

     I'm still reading The Collapsing Universe. This is not quite as pathetic as it may seem, for I have not been reading it consistently. I should be done within the time-frame of the weekend though... Either way, I think that I've had the liberty of adding yet another 'favorite thing' to my extremely short list (which, of course, excludes everything that doesn't have to do with reality... then the list would be rather lengthy...) .
1. Black holes
2. Saturn and *drum roll*
3. Neutron stars
     Neutron stars are not only made out of compressed neutrons, they are also made out of condensed awesome. I use this word in both its true and in its modern meaning. Neutron stars are huge. They are not, by any means, massive, but their gravitational pull is very, very intense... and, they are ridiculously dense (a neutron star with a diameter of 14 kilometers [which is not small for a neutron star] has an approximate density of 1,400,000,000,000,000 g/cm cubed). And, neutron stars are fascinating. Anyway, back to the gravity though... A neutron star is basically the result of a star thats' outward push of its electromagnetic field can no longer withstand the inwards gravitational pull. It then begins to collapse and the matter is then compressed (explaining the density). Because the protons and electrons are smashed into each other, they cancel out each other's charge and they are neutral thus, the entire star becomes comprised entirely of neutrons and is therefore a neutron star. The inwards collapse then comes to a halt because the neutrons are pushed so closely together that the nuclear force overrides the gravitational pull (which is very strong because the closer one is to the center of any body of relatively large mass, the more intense the gravity becomes). A person weighing 70 kilograms on earth would weigh 20 trillion kilograms on a neutron star with a 14 kilometer diameter.
     I want to write more, I truly, truly do. But, I cannot due to the fact that if I start to go into tidal waves and other things in regard to neutron stars I really, really wouldn't be able to stop. That's what I like about astronomy the most; you'll think that you're fairly knowledgeable in regard to a specific topic but then you'll find one unknown law or term that will lead to dozens of new pieces of information. The other thing that I really like about astronomy is that it all makes sense and it entirely logical and, anybody who knows me knows that I'm fairly obsessed with logic... and another thing that I love about astronomy is that it feels as though the amount of information it offers me is in an  abundance.
    Because I adore astronomy so (along with other genres of non-fiction) I've been thinking that perhaps I want to devote this blog to my discoveries. Because the books are usually a bit dense, I can dedicated 2 or 3 posts to a book and can explain things as I go along so that I can feel like I'm making an actual connection with whomever may give my posts a glance. If anybody else is also interested in astronomy, I would like to know, we could swap information and that would be very, very pleasant.

The Collapsing Universe- A Legitimate Post

     The thing that triggered the Big Bang is often referred to as the 'cosmic egg'. There was an absurdly strong explosion which most likely took place due to nuclear reactions. As you know, the universe is expanding. Planetary bodies and black dwarfs have their own center of gravity, all of which influence the things around them. This gravity will (supposedly) slow the outwards movement of the universe and, after the velocity reaches 0, the universe will snap back inwards, creating another cosmic egg. The thought that I'm about to propose is extremely hypothetical, due to the fact that the density of planetary bodies and black dwarfs changing the order in which particles were originally heading after the Big Bang, but, I cannot help but wonder. Imagine if, somehow, things (everything within the universe) compressed themselves into the exact order from which they were shot out from the cosmic egg. Then, when there was another nuclear reaction which would result in an explosion, everything would would eventually reach where it had been before it 'snapped' back after losing its velocity. In other words: what if every single molecule making up the earth, every human, every star, was identical to the stars and molecules and humans that had been there before them; that the universe just goes through infinite cycles of identical rearrangements of everything?

     It is a very amusing thought... everything in history would continuously repeat itself, no, infinitely repeat itself. Just as Earth has its history completely erased, it begins once again. Txai lives, she dies, she's recreated eons of years later. I do not view this hypothetical situation as an example of fate, but a presentation of the ways in which everything abides a mathematical formula.... which is beautiful.

     I am not so naive as to believe that many people read my blog, but, regardless, I do have a question that I would like to be responded to in the comments. Would you rather have the universe repeat itself endlessly or never have come into existence? I cannot choose, I find for both of the sides to the question posed are embarrassingly pathetic. Instead of choosing to watch a dog endlessly chase its own tail or having aborted it as a fetus, I must say that I'd rather sit and watch. Laugh at the stupid dog, cry at the waste of its life, be unaware of the dog because it had never been born, reach in and hold its tail to prevent it from running in circles. 

The Collapsing Universe

     I've decided to pick up another book that's about black holes. Over the past few weeks, I've noticed my reading habits and interests changing. I liked run of the mill novels before but I recently started to read Cassini, who writes extremely abstract works of fiction. Then, my interest in fiction started to deteriorate and I found myself  absorbed in non-fiction. Currently, I'm reading both The Collapsing Universe and Disease of Cattle. I like these two books a lot because every single sentence teaches me a new thing. Whether I'm learning about the nuclear force or how cows have epilepsy, I'm just cramming raw information into my mind... which is bus-loads of fun. Well, it's a short post, but I just wanted to share y developing love for non-fiction and if I were to go into depth about either of my books, I truly wouldn't be able to stop typing...