Category Archives: writers

China Travel in Four Days

China is evil according to some of the news reports in America. I’m skeptical since agendas abound.

What I do know is that I found another author to read and he is Chinese: Cixin Liu, the award-winning author of The Three Body Trilogy. I just finished the second of the series, “The Dark Forest” and look forward to the translation of the last book in his series next year.

A book on the philosophy of Confucius is the only other book I remember reading from China.

I may have missed the author’s intentions, but here is some stuff I found interesting in his books so far:

History and evolution of communist forces in China. I started reading up on some of the incidents he mentioned.

Technology holds a positive place in the future of mankind. A different spin on the debate between environmentalists and industry. When technology is held hostage by an alien force, the world may be doomed.

Spirituality has a place. Many of the characters in his books are atheists and they wish they had the ability to believe in something. A piece of the puzzle eludes them even if it is only a comforting piece.

Love lends a hand in solving problems for some of the lead characters.

The humanities, the arts clarify reality. They are a useful tool even in a high-tech world.

A frequent refrain in “The Dark Forest” is, “If I destroy you, what business is it of yours?” Despite the harshness, it is something to contemplate. Historical, societal, and personal concerns alter the meaning of this idea.

The firefly refrain: it is everywhere in the book and thought by different characters. I just love the symbolism.

A spaceship named Natural Selection. What a fun, not too subtle reference. All the names of the earth spaceships are interesting to note.

Cixin’s description of nanotechnology, space stairs, and the potential immensity of a photon brings me a bit closer to getting these scientific concepts into my unscientific mind.

I find it harder to separate fact from fiction in the real world. Statistics lie and so does the mutable Internet. I trust well-written, solidly researched books instead. If nothing else, good fiction and non-fiction books start a conversation in my head. Unravel with a book.

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The Philosophy of Parakeets

When I was young, a neighbor friend of mine had two parakeets. The family was tired of these birds and since I always enjoyed them, they asked me if I wanted to keep them. I said yes.

These neighbors were German, or I should say they were Americans with German ancestry. They gave the birds German names: Nietzsche and Schopenhauer.

Now those were some complicated names for a kid and a couple of parakeets. My friend’s brother explained that they were named after some kind of philosophers. At the time, that explanation didn’t mean much to me.

The birds kept those names. I spoke endearing little things to Nietzsche and Schopenhauer every day.

I ended up being interested in philosophy. Recently, I read The Birth of Tragedy by Nietzsche and enjoyed it.

It didn’t start out that way. I tried to read it about two years ago and couldn’t get past the language and ideas. But if I put a book down and restart it at a later date, I discovered that not only can I get through it, I often have a good reading experience after all.

The first thing The Birth of Tragedy reminded me of was Camille Paglia. She also wrote extensively about the division between Apollo and Dionysus. And this Nietzsche guy was writing this way before her! How fun. I love to make connections between the past and present.

Also it reminded me of an English professor that taught 19th century American literature. He used to drop philosopher’s names in class in order to illustrate some point. I wanted to know more. I had already read some literature from the 19th century and loved it; his class increased that love. I still reread sections of Moby Dick as if it were scripture by just randomly pointing to a sentence in the book and going wild with the implications and deeper meaning. The 19th century Nietzsche with his deep and dark is right up my alley.

Back to reality. My mother used to force me to call my father. She wanted me to beg him to come back to her even though she divorced him. Between the calls she made and the calls she forced me to make, he was getting in trouble at work. I started to refuse to call him. After one such refusal, she grabbed one of my birds and threatened to kill it if I didn’t call him. She eventually released the bird, and I did not call.

I never knew which bird she grabbed. Was it Nietzsche or Schopenhauer that nearly bit the dust? A question for philosophy.

I must continue my readings.

It Was a Good Idea at the Time: Why I Blog

My friend told me to start a blog. She said everyone has one these days and you’ve got some crazy ideas to write about.

I figured she might be right since I had so many brilliant ideas floating around in my head. It was a shame not to share them with others or at least just get them written down. Yes, set my brilliance free for the universe to enjoy!

Translating those ideas into words on the computer is far more difficult than I imagined.

First I try to capture those floating ideas. I make some quick notes. Then, I start writing out the basic thoughts into sentences. Rough sentences, rough like a jagged rock.

images

My Jagged Blog
image from theadventureblog.blogspot.com

If I thought it would be more like a worry stone, a smooth, polished gem from the start, I was dead wrong.

Unlike the worry stone, my jagged rock blog fills me with stress instead of relieving it. Instead of soothing away troubles, it leaves my fingers a scratched up, bloody mess.

Since I can’t manage a polished gem, I try to write just one nice paragraph. Sometimes I’m happy to write one decent sentence instead.

The Blog I Wantimage from calm spirit.net

The Blog I Want
image from calm spirit.net

My great thoughts never come out quite the same as they appeared in my mind when they were unformed and only theoretical. Those ideas were far better roaming about. My problem started when I tried to make them so concrete. If only I could stop falling down and skinning my knees.

My friend encouraged me to blog; I wish she had told me that blogging is bloody work. Yet I keep clawing my way through this rough terrain. I guess it’s not all painful. I’m learning that everyone wants to be a writer, but only a few write well. Who knows, those hard edges may be on the brink of becoming a cool, green, smooth piece of jade.