Digression

I was originally going to post a review of a series I had been reading. However, the depth of the series demanded more attention than I was at liberty to find time to write about. (I could be doing it now, but that is not where my inspiration lies).

I love to read, but now am relegated to textbooks for the main part of my life. I read a lovely essay by George Orwell called 'Politics and the English Language.' His thesis is that Englishmen feel that their language is somehow inferior to French, Greek, Latin, and other nations' dialects. Orwell defends the English language as having a charm of its own, that its death is spelled out through meaningless metaphors and foreign foolery.

The ways that English makes use of foreign phraseology only causes both grammars and syntaxes to be misused. The English form of communication is a proud tradition, and not a shameful burden upon the Western world. It is time that we cleaned house of all the useless conjunctions that we toss around merely for the affected connotation rather than literal meaning. When something needs to be communicated, do so in the simplest terms and definitions available. Take a direct route rather than a scenic meandering that loses your intended audience. I laughed at the silly, superfluous people who made such mistakes. My attitude was quickly sobered by the candid confession of Orwell, "Look back through this essay, and for certain, you will find that I have again and again committed the very faults I am protesting against." If he who has written and railed against the downfall of the English language is capable of lapses, everyone else is as well. However, in the future, I will no longer be ignorant of the faults of my oral and written information skills. Orwell's warning should breed a healthy sense of self censorship and caution when communicating.

There are a majority of fools and dreamers in this world, the knack is for discerning which is which.

Good fortune to all

And Understanding more so

Where you fall, you grow.

Dark Days

Dark days is the fourth book in the Skulduggery Pleasant series. I was put on the road to reading it by a unique person who answered, "Skulduggery" when queried about his favorite detective.

For a good reason - The main character in the series is Valkyrie Cain, a mortal who stumbles upon the realm of magic. She quickly decides that the rabbit hole of magic is worth the price of admission. She must change her name, as each human has three names - one given (limited control), one chosen (to seal the given from control), and one true one (granting absolute control when called). Valkyrie's original name was Stephenie She found that her bloodline traces back to an ancient race of power who bound the Faceless Ones. (Otherwise known as the evil gods of the universe, happens every time). Her mentor is the matchless, grinning, undead detective, Skulduggery.

He is a one of a kind character; he carrying himself with an offbeat sense of humor, unique sense of style, and biting wit that draws him as many enemies as admirers. Valkyrie is quite taken by him, trailing behind him as a sidekick to his adventures.

Valkyrie uses a simple form of magic to create a double, this reflection goes about her daily life while she studies magic. Skulduggery warns her repeatedly that she should use caution - the spell was not designed to be abused in this method. She ignores his counsel, finding magic much more fun and important than living out a normal school life. The consequences of this abuse have not yet manifested into something noticeable, but smells of a plot point yet to be revealed.

Valkyrie and Skulduggery have many allies in the magic community. Tanith Low, a leather clad twenty-something monster slayer. Tanith and Valkyrie have a sister-in-spirit relationship of mutual respect. She is the sword and muscle of the group, providing back-up in time of need.

Ghastly Bespoke, his scarred face testifies to his former career as a boxer. He now is the official tailor for the magical community at large. His clothes are imbued with subtle designs that are wrinkle-proof and ever comfortable, as well as blocking against rudimentary magic. He is reluctant to reenter the realm of actual fighting, preferring to be a support of last resort.

Fletcher Renn is the last known teleporter. He is a handsome, teenage, and has a major crush on Valkyrie. Fletcher has a high opinion of himself and his abilities, but is regarded by Valkyrie merely as being useful, and not as a serious interest.

China Sorrows, she is exotically beautiful and manipulative. I am never sure of her motives or alliances. Her special abilities are symbolic tattoos of power that cover her body. In touching them in sequence, she can access a range of abilities and effects. She is the guardian of an extensive library of ancient tomes of wisdom and curator of mystical artifacts. She feeds Valkyrie and Skulduggery information on people and places of interest.

Those are my favorite characters on the side of angels. On the opposing end there are also some intriguing characters...

Vaurien Scapegrace, Killer supreme. He is both pretentious and pathetic - in his quest to make murder into an art form, he has neglected to successfully kill one person. He is determined in his odd ideal. Valkyrie has managed to handle his escape and assassination attempts easily. He resents her for halting his spree before he even got to begin.

Springheeled Jack, this Cockney villain is intriguing because of his tendency to follow his own interests. He has a thing for killing infants and innocents. His adversary is Tanith Low, she captured him last time and he feels it is his professional duty to kill her. He hates being manipulated and will turn against anyone who tries.

Billy Ray Sanguine, he is the quintessential southern American with a lazy chip on his shoulder. He hates Valkyrie for hurting him and foiling his schemes in the past. He enjoys fighting, and with his charmed straight razor which wounds permanently its victims.

Dusk, a vampire. This is not a nice and suave character - at night, it changes form into a bloodthirsty creature that hunts and kills compulsively. Not very romantic as much as bestial.

All in all, I am waiting for the next book to come out in my local library system... The Mortal Coil. A note, I am also briskly anticipating the next Bartimaeus book in Jonathan Stroud's series.

lateness is excuse

Though hardly a lovely one

Labyrinth escape?

Chronicles of a Sojourner #3: Need an anchor

In my short and enjoyable time on earth, I have been vaguely aware of time's workings at certain points. Like Delirium in the Sandman series, I am not always conscious of the truth when I ask, "What is the name of that thing that tells you time is still working?" and her older brother, Dream, says simply. "Change".

I am given just as much of an allotment of time as anyone in this world, yet I hear myself complaining about the way I seem to lack initiative to spend it well. I am like a child expending energy in precarious situations that are a thrill, rather stop to analyze and learn from my surroundings.

As I grow, I only begin to realize how I could have spent my efforts in more fruitful areas. While others feasted on the bread of education, I chose to be distracted by the shiny treats of the temporary. Only when I use them as a supplement to my diet, rather than gorge myself greedily, will my efforts bloom into a healthy mind. I am ever lifting my head to the heavens, forgetting that I do not walk among the stars. It adds a perspective on my journey, but needs to be taken as experience to enrich the plodding of my earthly path.

For if I merely dream, I shall have no imprint or impression in reality. Opportunities will pass me by, offering themselves to more aware and astute people who would seize them eagerly.

My family is an encouraging base, but they have their own journeys to navigate, younger siblings that need a guiding hand. They may offer their support on larger obstacles, but also know that if I am to mature, I must devise my own means of surmounting challenges.

I need to commit to doing something, and follow through on its completion. This blog is a discipline, I took a month off to adjust to the transition points that I was facing in starting a new semester of higher education.

I have stated repeatedly that I thank all who read my written thoughts. I borrow a lot from my absent-minded research in my readings and observing of the brave fellows who have paved my way. Pioneers have it hard, but the knowledge that someone will learn from your thought questing adds a sense of purpose.

I hope that you enjoy reading these musings, for that is what they are, and are spurred to planning, preparation, and execution. I want to learn, and, as it is unavoidable that my journey can not be paused, I will press on. I will strive to post something every two weeks, it is a period that is wide enough to find something worth saying.

Time has passed quickly.

How was this for an August?

Thanks for readership!

Not finished yet.

I am quite aware of my irregular posting, but I have been enjoying investments I have made with my time. The multimedia that I have been sampling has been Joseph Delaney's Last Apprentice series (on the fourth book currently out of the six part series, more on that later...), Sarah Prineas's Magic Thief (loads of fun for me to visit! Also deserving its own space.), and have been listening to two Keane projects - Hopes & Fears and Night Train. My favorite from each album has been Somewhere only we Know and World goes Round (You have to help yourself), respectively, but there is hardly a mediocre song on either disc. In truth, I know little of Keane's background, and admit that their hard to find status appealed to me. Keane is not indie, technically, but is just not readily seen and heard in my experience with the mainstream. Their sound is percussion and piano overlaid with smoothly accented vocals. It holds a laid back intellectual poetry kind of feel, likened to a thoughtful stroll in a park on a day when the grass appears particularly luscious.

Now, for the Last Apprentice. The protagonist is a student of an elderly, yet strong Spook. The spook's task is to bind malignant supernatural forces that plague the county. Each apprentice must be the seventh son of a seventh son, a child gifted with the ability to see things other mortals cannot. Thomas J. Ward is the seventh son of a farmer, and, as his father is out of better options, has to be the Spook's last apprentice. Mr. John Gregory is the toughest and best spook alive, having trained all the other spooks in the county. Thomas is awed by him, but sometimes his curiosity to know about Mr. Gregory eclipses his better judgment. Thomas's only other friend is Alice, a young girl related to some of the more unsavory witches of the county. She is skilled in herb lore and getting Thomas in some tight positions. Mr. Gregory doesn't trust her fully, Thomas feels a kinship to her in feeling and often confides in her about what he learns in his training. She in turn, helps with his education in latin and witchy wisdom. Alice is not a witch... yet, but its influence pulls at her. That knowledge, combined with her willful and adventurous personality allow her to be an interesting contrast to Thomas's cautious tendencies. So far, so good with this series - I pick up an installment and it quickly hooks me each time.

Magic Thief is quite different. Its main character, Conn, has an instinctive connection to the magic of his hometown of Wellmet. His master, Nevery, is gruff and reluctant, but helps Conn out of many a scrape. Nevery is respected for his abilities, but never quite safe enough for the council of Wellmet to consider him a proper member of its inner circle of politics. Conn is a former pickpocket expert with wires - he teaches his master his trade in exchange for the room, board, and training he recieves. Conn is a quick and eager learner, Nevery likes his spunk, even though it sometimes outweighs the set view of the natures of magic. Each wizard controls and focuses his magic through a special stone by which magical energy is released. Conn is friendly and self confident, it wins him many friends as well as enemies. Among his friends are the duchesses' daughter Rowan, and Nevery's brawny housekeeper and bodyguard, Benet. It is delightful to follow Conn through scrapes and escapes as he saves Wellmet from losing its magic supply. I will start on the third book soon, just borrowed it from the library today.

I am enjoying life most happily. Hope that you are thrilled with the gift of living breath as well. You only have the present, the future is going to be shaped by what habits and actions you make and take. I have no fear - I am blessed with a patient and supportive family, and a vivacious group of friends who inspire my respect and admiration, and hold the honor of your time and attention while reading this. You are most appreciated!

Chronicles of a Sojourner #2

I find life and its participants to be a great source of amusement and fascination. Sometimes to the point of objectifying those around me, just to see their actions from a different perspective. The friends that I hold to be the most dear are those who listen and smile as I rant and muse about my stream of consciousness.

I am unique, just like everyone else. I keep on absent-mindedly returning to the phrase -"We are not physical beings in a spiritual world, but spiritual beings in a physical world." It is a curious and intriguing frame of thought for me. If I am a spirit, then the logical consequences of my actions could be defined as spiritual interaction. The way I choose to invest my time will reflect and shape my spirit or soul.

There are some moments in life in which I find that an emotion appeals to me at a deeper level than usual. At these spaces in time I am faced with a decision - do I want to savor the intricacies of such a mood, or should I pull back in a show of self-control and root myself in reason. Such self discipline will be needed as a part of the character that I would emulate to become.

However, the times when I feel moved cause me to passionately pine to do more with the skills and time given to me. I am in a formative time in my life. Will I build a practical foundation for my future, or merely enjoy and exercise my freedoms to amuse myself in the present. (To live in the moment.)

The ideal is for a balance of both measures in an attitude of moderation. Today, I find the greater temptation is to spend what you are given while you still are in the condition to do so. To trade your money for time, rather than your time for money. Both of these routes have their pros and cons. Both are allowed freedoms that, taken to an extreme, can become a subtle form of bondage.

Your habits can form a cage around you that is comfortable to your needs, you may even be unconscious of your captivity. The bars serve to protect yourself from the aspects of life that are unpleasant or exhausting to consider. Their function is to keep the world at an arms length until you feel like inviting others inside the boundaries your personal realm.

Unfortunately, all it takes is one observant person to see through your absorbed view of the world and find it to be false. That the exorbitant price to pay for your perspective is not worth the price of admission. Cages will collide, damages will be sustained, and the repairs can be either forgiven or used as an excuse for a pity party.

I try not to fall into this caged frame of mind that has been re-branded as a "comfort zone". I do not always succeed, I am at fault more times that I care to admit, but that is not a deterrent from skirting the issue. I do not want to be either mediocre or self-important.

I want to have the ability to see the truth of things as they are, not as people try to shape them to be. I have not mastered the art of discernment, it will take years of concentration and dedication. The motivation for this is not to mock the world for being, as Holden Caulfield put it, "Phony". I want to be able to understand and coax others into being freed of their constructed filters and to see the wonder of life as if through the eyes of a newborn.

This earth has so much to offer, and I take too much for granted. It gives me a delightful chill of gratitude to realize that I have all that I need before me. Money will come in time, it need not be a worry. My family loves me unconditionally, whether I merit such favor or not. My true friends will treat me as I deserve to be seen, their eyes see through my facades that I instinctively raise as part of the everyday. What I really admire about my friends is the undisguised joy that they exhibit when encountering the everyday existence of life.

The Beauty of a lily, the Music of the songbirds, the Ability to labor for their sustenance, the Sigh of satisfaction after knowing that you put forth your best effort. Friends are not given, they are to be courted, encouraged, and acknowledged as a special part of your life. With the way my friends live their lives, it inspires me to venture beyond the walls of what I know, into the glory of the untrodden soil.

This post is somehow dedicated to my friends to whom follow this project of mine, and put up patiently with my petitions for readership.

Split Ends, Twists compared.

All right, haven't posted in a while, I've been occupied reading. I just finished the Ted Dekker/Erin Healy novel Burn. I chose it because it had an eye-catching cover and Dekker consistently provides a solid thriller. Unfortunately, I always seem to feel disappointed when the twist is revealed. Dekker always has a twist, the fun part of reading is guessing what it is, then analyzing the supernatural ability's limits. His character's weakness is when they sleep, so I am guessing that he either takes a lot of naps, or at least longs to do so.
Burn takes place in a small gypsy camp in New Mexico. Janeal Mikkado is the restless daughter of Jason, the rom baro (or leader) of the camp. Her mother was gaji, and thus half-Romany Janeal is never truly accepted by the group. She loves her father deeply, but pines for an exciting life out of the kumpania. Her two best friends are kind-hearted beauty, Katie, and her boyfriend, Robert. One night, while walking the mesa, Janeal meets Salazar Sanzo. Salazar is a roguish drug dealer who is wanted by the DEA, Janeal's father is scheduled to betray him within a week. Salazar offers her a deal, $1,000,000 in exchange for her father's life. Salazar claims the money was his, but was confiscated for the sting by the DEA. Janeal finds the cash, but told Robert and Katie about her predicament. They try to convince her to ask her father's counsel, she refuses, hurt that Salazar told her of the bust before Jason. Her willfulness lands her in a situation far beyond her control. Salazar's hired men burn out and kill kumpania. He corners Janeal in the inflamed meetinghouse and offers her the lives of Jason and Katie in exchange for the promised cash. She refuses to give in to the drug lord's demands, seeing what he has already done as unforgivable. In return, Salazar kills Jason, then abandons Janeal and Katie to the conflagration. Janeal is faced with a decision that will affect her life - to save the herself and the cash, or attempt to rescue her bound friend...
Fifteen years pass, Janeal has made a new life for herself under an assumed name. She assumes herself to be the only survivor of the Mikkato massacre. Janeal is a cutthroat in the corporate world, blackmailing her boss to steal his coveted position. Janeal's past is reopened when she hears that Salazar has finally been arrested. She had made a deal with the drug lord to keep silent about that night in return for a mutual immunity from his pursuit. However, the DEA officer who apprehended Salazar was her childhood friend Robert. Janeal fears that he will discover her deception and betrayal, and prosecute her as an accomplice for the decade and a half of silence. Janeal's journeys to New Mexico to protect her new-found role as publisher of New York's most popular magazine. She expects to succeed in her mission using the same manipulative formula, playing others to get what she wants. However, Salazar's years have not dulled his cunning mind and powerful personality. He has been waiting for Janeal to return to his web, and will not be denied even in the face of his unfortunate current captivity. The game has begun, who will be burned?

As I said, there is always a twist to a Dekker novel, but that is the only high to be won from his thrillers. Another story which utilizes the same twist is Anansi Boys, by Neil Gaiman. In my opinion, this is far the superior book. (You have probably figured this already, I am quite consistently entertained by Gaiman's narratives.) "Fat Charlie" Nancy has been estranged from his embarrassing father by the Atlantic Ocean. Most children are ashamed of their parents at times, Charlie's father was an especially flagrant case of never stopping in causing this emotion. Charlie's unremarkable cubicle dwelling life and comfortable relationship with Rosie is wrecked by news of his father's untimely demise. As usual, Charlie's dad couldn't have had a normal death. He had been belting out a love song during karaoke night at a bar. In the middle of the song, he doubled over from a heart attack, groped a lady too close to the stage, and fell, ripping off the lady's top on his descent. Charlie is obligated to attend the funeral in America. And once there, he has a uncomfortable reunion with his childhood neighbors, a trio of eerie old ladies. They inform him that his father was the incarnation of the African trickster god, Anansi. Charlie also apparently has a brother named Spider, a fact that confuses him, as in his memory he was an only child. Once he returns to England, his agency job, and Rosie, he summons his brother on a whim. Spider arrives, and, like the Cat in the Hat, refuses to leave before he has a good time. It turns out that Spider is dashing, confident, and exhibits godlike abilities. In short, he is a personification of everything Fat Charlie wishes to be. Thus, Spider unnerves him and makes him feel even worse about his life. Spider is delighted to be in England, he soon discovers Rosie, charming her out of Charlie's arms and into his. Spider is even able to sweet talk Rosie's uptight and critical mother, who had been skeptical of Charlie. This is where the book really takes off - the interplay between the free-spirited Spider and the cautious Charlie is brilliant and engaging. The extreme measures that Charlie takes to get rid of his accomplished brother cause them both to be in danger. Anansi, their father and the roguish deity who stole the stories from the Sky god, is the quickest witted, most cunning, and clever god ever to exist. Will his sons escape the supernatural trap designed specifically for their downfall?

I lightly recommend the first for an intense and thrilling read. The second, I endorse highly as an engaging and enjoyable experience.

Falchion

Ah! A haiku, yes?
I need to think, give me time...
Nope, cannot do so.

Pain, will it ever subside?

I recently had oral surgery performed on me to extract my wisdom teeth. It was all over remarkably soon, I felt like it took all of 15 minutes to happen. I have been entertaining myself with various pieces of literature during my time of incapacity.

Storyteller, by Edward Myers.

This is a book that was pleasurable to visit. I love stories, folktales, and fables - this book is rife with stories within the main thread. It follows the adventures of a farm boy named Jack. This young fellow has a gift for telling tales that rapidly bloom inside the garden of his imagination. Many odd events are found to coincide with his stories, and they intersect upon Jack's journey in plot twists that the protagonist could not have dreamed. Characters such as Garth Golden-eye, a brigand who is notorious for having a gold coin placed over his left eye socket. Garth's appearance accounts for his feared reputation as a highway robber. There is also the Woman of the Woods, Celestina, who claims a heritage of royal descent. As she was exiled from her royal realm, she now rules over forest creatures from the queenly comfort of her cottage. Jack seeks his fortune by going to the capital city of Callitti, where he is hired by the King to be the royal storyteller. Unfortunately, Jack soon finds himself in a tangle of politics for which he never accounted. Jack is a simple and good natured person. He only wants to tell his stories to a willing audience, the perks of being royal storyteller were never his goal. The smaller tales are as enjoyable as the larger thread. The end is satisfying in a slightly familiar way, but its conclusion encourages its readers to create tales of our own with our lives.

The Bedwetter (Stories of courage, redemption, and pee), by Sarah Silverman.

The truth of this selection is that I knew little of Ms. Silverman before I read her tale. The title, subtitle, and stoic band member photo of the comedian convinced me that it was a book worth the time to read. I admit, I read it partially for the rights to saying I read such a curiously titled book.

What I learned by reading said autobiography... That Sarah seems to enjoy the awkward details of her late bloomer childhood. She learned to use foul language at toddler age, and became addicted to the shock value it generated. Thus, at 39, Sarah still pursues the high of her childhood profanity by becoming a wickedly taboo comedian. She had a bladder problem until she reached sixteen years of age, thus the title. Though she reveals her childhood to be less than ideal, she now seems to look back on it with the glee of having survived. In fact, she bares her depressed, bedwetting, divorced childhood in a way that scandalizes everybody within hearing distance. She delights in the theoretically grotesque and sickening aspects of humanity. She attempts to defy convention, to cause her audience to feel sympathy for her, then cynically reels them deeper into her psyche. This gives her the satisfaction of knowing that her dirty mind can contaminate others.

I don't recommend this book, but having read it, I understand such people a little better. But given the choice between oral surgery and reading it again, I'll take another extraction.



Oh yes, If this is not enough to make up for lost time checking if I posted anything.
A haiku series that I wrote before falling asleep one night.

Fearful prayers take wing
Darkness overshadows all
A storm is brewing

There exists hidden
Inside the legends of old
Whispers of a hero

Light and Shade shall meet
A battle of epic scale
Silent souls awake

Evil stands no rival
Right will not tolerate wrong
No truce can occur

The wisdom of fools
Permeates the strongly weak
Balance is disturbed

Only daylight breeds hope
Dusk slithers and snuffs out light
A solar eclipse

Great powers are at stake
Will there arise a victor?
Listen to the souls

Dead hold their peace
The living are conflicted
Time alone will tell.