half past nomad

HPN-

I wasn’t tired yesterday, rather I was fatigued on top of being tired and a little left of being fully exhausted. Tired and Fatigued aren’t lineaer, they’re a haphazard motion of left right and the ever famous, “look out! it’s right behind your 2nd year college room-mate!” (that one never really caught on with Fatigue though Tired tried experimenting with it in the late 80’s).

Anyways I digress. Whilst bending a curve at the usual high speeds (there are only 5 gears in Red Bullet – Oh !!!, Dum De Dum, Common Already!, Why World Go Fast Outside Window and Reverse), I tried to sum a few words to collect some stranded thoughts.

I believe that a writer’s responsibility is a large one. It carries with it the role of educating or enlightening the reader. Foolish speech is not encouraged by Islam; foolish words I believe are even more dangerous for they carry with them the risk of transmission outside your scope of control. When you speak to someone, you speak to them directly and can atleast work at conveying your idea in its entirety. Words, they flow away, fly away, float far far away at times.

Every post of mine has a message in it, a lesson contained in it, a quick thought-provocation hidden in it. Sometimes, I’m good at it, these words dash out … dashingly and other days these words get out of bed, and pass out against the nearest neuron wall they find.

These words are hard to write. These words aren’t mine to write. These words are heavy on my mind. These words are foreign to me. These words are close to me. These words, oh I could tell you stories about these words.

I don’t know about you. I do know that my words are precious to me. I know that because there will come a Time when I Will Be Asked of each one I ever uttered in my entire life. Then, pray tell, what should I do with my web stats, with my comment count, with my domain name, with my blog-

Pray tell then, what shall come of my words?

Since I don’t have an actual blog update, I figured I could just mention two books I read recently:

Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions

“I call our world Flatland, not because we call it so, but to make its nature clearer to you, my happy readers, who are privileged to live in Space.”

Beggars in Spain

“A girl” Elizabeth Camden said. Ong hadn’t expected her to speak first. Her voice was another surprise: upper-class British. “Blonde. Green eyes. Tall. Slender.”

Ong smiled. “Appearance factors are the easiest to achieve, as I’m sure you already know. But all we can do about slenderness is give her a genetic disposition in that direction. How you feed the child will naturally -”

“Yes, yes” Roger Camden said, “that’s obvious. Now: intelligence. High intellgence. And a sense of daring.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Camden, personality factors are not yet understood well enough to allow genet – ”

“Just testing” Camden said, with a smile that Ong thought was supposed to be lighthearted.

Elizabeth Camden said, “Musical ability.”

“Again, Mrs. Camden, a disposition to be musical is all we can guarantee.”

“Good enough,” Camden said. “The full array of corrections for any potential gene-linked health problem, of course.”

“Of course.” Dr. Ong said. Neither client spoke. So far theirs was a fairly modest list, given Camden’s money; most of his clients had to be argued out of contradictory genetic tendancies, alteration overload, or unrealistic expetations. Ong waited. Tension prickled the room like heat.

“And” Camden said, “no need to sleep.”

Back to Flatland. I know the excerpt from Flatland is rather short, but the book is brilliant. It’s about a two-dimensional world, and the narrator is a triangle. A TRIANGLE!! Yes, I know what you’re thinking:

You: “AKDS I <3 TRAINGLES!!! OMG!!!”
Me: “OMG! ME TOO!!!”

But seriously, the narrator is a triangle (Do you understand the excerpt now?). And the king of Flatland is a square. The book is actually deep and akin to Animal Farm in that there are many subtle messages, despite the simple verbiage and setting of story.

-akds