Anthem – by Ayn Rand
First published in 1938
147 pages
30 pages daily
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It is my second time reading “Anthem” and it is still just as amazing as when I read it the first time.
Reading Ladder
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Cold
Cold. It’s not a curse, it’s a gift: it graces you with its feeling when all else is lost. It brings neither love nor peace, but it is evidence that both remain in your heart after experiencing loss.
How do you know?
Because it means you care. If you were indifferent, you would feel nothing, so if you don’t feel cold you never really cared about what you lost. There is only one acceptation, if you forget… but in order to forget you need to stop feeling cold, which means that you didn’t care enough to endure through the memory.
Hey!
Of course it sounds bad when put like that, but we do it in order to cope: no one deserves to live through the pain of a memory forever, it is degrading. Keep in mind that forgetting is still better than creating a lie for yourself.
Why would someone lie to themselves… and how is that a bad thing anyway?
Lies create an illusion that clouds reality. Instead of living in reality you are in fact living in a parody of reality, which was originally an illusion to begin with.
What?
Life, its an illusion. Everything is an illusion. You see but do not observe. You have sight but no vision.
So what is life?
I cant answer that for you. You must look beyond what is seen and grasp reality for what it is, only then will you see the illusion. You must accept truth. Look at everything for what it literally is.
Your “literally” confusing.
And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Society? Non existent.Family? Nope, zilch. There is only you, and the world. The same goes for everyone else.
How about love then: what is love?
Well that is up to you, or rather what you think is you, and what you think love, should be. Love is the result of emotion, but emotion doesn’t really exist either.
…
Life, and everything you think you know is what it is because of what you think you know, usually because of what people thought they knew before you and which you now think you know as a result of their teaching: you’ve accepted a reality.
How can that be? Everyone all over the world has the same “reality”.
Have you ever looked at history? It doesn’t have an order; there never where any stages in development towards reaching what life is like now. People of every day and age, every society, and every place on earth throughout time have had their own ideas on reality and what they think they know. The globalization of ideas is what brought about this global reality you see today.
What? But what about all the eras? You know, the middle ages,Bronze Age, BC-AD…
No, they never existed beyond the text book. You know, when Europe had its middle ages, people in China, Africa, Canada and virtually everywhere else in the world were far different. The history of the entire world can not be categorized into eras or stages. The perception of reality has simply constantly been changing at every place and at every time. Globalization has simply spread one universal reality across the world and changed concept of “history”.
You have given me allot to think about.
Creative Story
Liberty
It was a particularly cold day of winter. A time when fires are used in just about every society. Candles are a very useful way to get all the benefits of fire. They can be used to light dark spaces, provide warmth, or serve as decorations. Liberty knows this, so one night she decided to light a candle. It was both bright and aesthetically pleasing, but it lacked in warmth. My candle must be too small, thought Liberty as she wore a tutu and balanced a candle from an umbrella while also balancing on a tightrope that happened to be suspended fifty feet in the air during the middle of winter. I know what you’re all thinking, if there is one thing a candle can’t do it would be balancing on an umbrella, held by a girl on a tightrope in the middle of winter. Therefore it is no surprise when the candle fell and burned her entire house to the ground. Just right, thought Liberty as she made her way to the convenient fire her house now provided.
Her satisfaction was only temporary. Liberty spent the next morning in a tutu carrying an umbrella while balancing one foot on the streets.
Since the day she lost her house Liberty was devastated. She ended up continued her balancing acts to earn a living. Every day she risked everything, and eventually the inevitable happened. She lost her balance. It could have ended all there, but the thing about streets is that they are particularly level with the ground. Well, enough is enough, Liberty decided it was time to change the course of her life, so one day she stepped off the edge of a five story building.
It did not take long for everyone below to rush to the scene, or to begin cheering. She knew just the right moment to step off the edge of that building, said one particularly pleased bystander; there wasn’t a single person who didn’t laugh…. after seeing her step onto a clothesline in a tutu.
And so began a long career for Liberty as a circus performer; her actions changed the way people thought and opened up new opportunities. Soon everyone was dressing in tutus and walking on tightropes. With this sudden change in professions circuses where opening up everywhere…. as where fire departments. In 1812 a Canadian was tightroping over the white house and like always, the candle fell. The same thing happened in 2016 when someone was tightroping over Fort Mcmurray.
As liberty moved from one place, the movement spread to another. The whole world began to worship her, some even thought she was a god. But eventually the inevitable happened. She lost her balance, and died on the cross… of the church she fell on.
In remembrance, the USA erected a statue of Liberty with all of her most iconic features: a tutu-dress, umbrella-torch, and also (for some reason) a crown with thorns.
Reading Ladder
Harry Potter and the Philosophers stone – by J. K. Rowling
First Published in 1997
309 pages (~10 pages per day) __________________________________________________
A great book. I have read many great fantasy novels but this one definitely is among the best I’ve read. Rowling incorporates many diverse characters into this story while also having the skill of maintaining a vivid image of each throughout. I would recommend this book to anyone.
Liberty
It was a particularly cold day of winter. A time when fires are used in just about every society. Candles are a very useful way to get all the benefits of fire. They can be used to light dark spaces, provide warmth, or serve as decorations. Liberty knows this, so one night she decided to light a candle. It was both bright and aesthetically pleasing, but it lacked in warmth. My candle must be too small, thought Liberty as she wore a tutu and balanced a candle from an umbrella while also balancing on a tightrope that happened to be suspended fifty feet in the air during the middle of winter. I know what you’re all thinking, if there is one thing a candle can’t do it would be balancing on an umbrella, held by a girl on a tightrope in the middle of winter. Therefore it is no surprise when the candle fell and burned her entire house to the ground. Just right, thought Liberty as she made her way to the convenient fire her house now provided.
Her satisfaction was only temporary. Liberty spent the next morning in a tutu carrying an umbrella while balancing one foot on the streets.
Since the day she lost her house Liberty was devastated. She ended up continued her balancing acts to earn a living. Every day she risked everything, and eventually the inevitable happened. She lost her balance. It could have ended all there, but the thing about streets is that they are particularly level with the ground. Well, enough is enough, Liberty decided it was time to change the course of her life, so one day she stepped off the edge of a five story building.
It did not take long for everyone below to rush to the scene, or to begin cheering. She knew just the right moment to step off the edge of that building, said one particularly pleased bystander; there wasn’t a single person who didn’t laugh…. after seeing her step onto a clothesline in a tutu.
10 Poems in One Sitting
It
A daily journey, around it goes
if it stops, nothing grows
fits locks with phantom keys
boils all the seven seas
Unblinking stare,
piercing glare,
Without mouth it eats the air
Seems charming, surly
but do not look, or all goes blurry
for even the slightest-shortest stare
will quickly end a fast-paced fare
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Creature
Short is the time till it reaches greatness
all start out small and faceless
but out of such things all must grow
it does not stop till its a crow
Found Poems
1
Dark has not seen the nightfall
sworn word may strengthen quaking heart
or break it
Good hearts
stuttering with the cold
keep a diary
a full account;
no laughter and no song
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2
Down the slope
After some miles
In front of them
trees melted away
The road wound
them
like a piece of string
The road goes on forever
he had spent his life
he had never seen a new horizon
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Mind’s endless weave
Misty clouds of thick-rich sound flow in rhythm past black shuttered sky,
each clasping on to strings of thought
and guiding them together into a tight weave full of loops and knots,
so not a strand is left to die
in mind’s endless weave
——————————————————————
Flame
Flames lick at the feet of many
flickering in delight at suck fantastic flavors…
branches,lawns,walls, floors.
tows too
Licking,
savoring,
devouring,
utterly consuming.
Flames, much like people,
leave the best for last
—————————————————————
Its life
Dust settles as it must,
air takes up a sower musk
til land yearns for life and flower,
but neither will come without shower
so blood rains from end of knife
but what can be said, life is life
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No Honor
The long hours spent
Oh lord I repent
for I have no honor
have not made a dollar
The lives I have spent
Oh lord I repent
for I have no honor
have drained men of color
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Go!
Move along sir
you feeble-mumbling cur
one has no place
so leave without a trace
here’s the door
go beg with the poor
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The ant goes on a-march’n
The ant goes on foot-by-foot,
The ant goes on a-march’n
If It be rain’n, or there be soot,
The ant goes on a-march’n
If it had lips, they’d be a-parching,
The ant goes on a-march’n
Because
No more than a minute has passed and he can already hear the sirens echo from outside. He remembers the back door to the Office and sprints there as fast as his stiffened legs would take him. He twists the knob, but to his dismay it is sealed tight. The Desk! He thrusts open the drawers with great speed, searching frantically for the key. No keys. It’s inevitable now. The pistol he just found will serve him well in defense against the cops, and not a moment too soon. The front doors to the store slam open so hard that the glass shatters. Dylan hears two sets of feet clapping against the floor at a hasty pace. He secures a clip and as the first man comes through the opening Dylan goes all-out, killing the man in a matter of seconds. Dylan is horrified by his actions, but wastes no time. He flips over the desk so that the top lies on its side and faces the door. The next cop doesn’t take any chances. He comes in and shoots several times, hitting Dylan in the shoulder. The pain is excruciating and Dylan drops the gun. The cop comes storming in but before he had a chance to do anything else, Dylan surprises him by picking up the gun with his other hand at an incredible speed. He pulls the trigger and the bullet sinks into the soft flesh of the officer’s left cheek, splattering the wall with a thick coat of red.
Dylan lies behind the desk screaming in agony. His shoulder oozing large quantities of viscous, crimson blood. He knows that he needs to staunch the flow before he blacks out or worse but he simply waits for the wound to take its toll. I always did like swimming, he thought as he feels it now against his back. His shoulder has soon pooled enough blood to encase him in a liquid coffin. Life is meaningless when you wake up at five in the morning every day to find yourself in the same hopeless situation as you were yesterday, its better this way. I no longer have to regret.
The Book Fellowship
The Lord of The Rings-The Fellowship of the ring-by J.R.R Tolkien – published 1954 – 535 pages
I read 306 pages at random throughout the month (not daily, at different intervals)
It was great so far. Definitely better than the movie… it has a great writing style.
The Good Earth– Novel by Pearl S. Buck- published 1931 – 356 pages
I read the whole thing. Its quite a good read and I recommend to anyone comfortable reading at a mature level.
I’ll have you know that I read other books this month…. I just cant remember which books. I only read the beginning of each one during SSR, and then all the rest of my reading was random research, so there is no point in listing it.
You must be wondering if I met my goal or not. I would say I did; altogether, I read a minimum of 500 pages this month from a variety of books.
News
The Game is on!
Playwright Ken Ludwig’s “The Games Afoot” is Vertigo Theater’s way of spicing things up for this season’s entertainment. With director Mark Bellamy’s theatrical tricks and wicked sense of humor leading this performance, you might want to make a quick stop at Vertigo before the performances come to a stop on December seventh.
The first act of “The Games Afoot” is mainly the exposition. It introduces the main plot with a mix of well established characters however, the play has the misfortune of starting off with cheesy jokes and not-so-scary-effects that leave to the beginning of the performance being a little dry. This does not last long though, as they quickly make up for it with the introduction of a murder.
In the opening seen American actor William Gillette (acted by Blair Williams) finishes his performance of a Sherlock Holmes play and is nearly killed when a man from the crowd shoots in his direction. After receiving a shot to the arm, Gillette suspects one of his cast members might have hired an assassin, so he invites them all to his mansion to find out who the culprit may be.The cast plays their cards well when keeping the identity of the killer(s) a secret throughout the performance. They manipulate the audience’s judgment by creating convincing identities, and thus establishing a sense of what each character will introduce to the plot. For example, Daria Chase (Jan Alexandra Smith) is a surprise visitor to Gillette’s mansion, and her obnoxious behavior and constant pestering makes it clear that she will not make it far in the play. Ludwig shows that Daria can be even funnier when she is dead rather than alive by bringing her back to life at unexpected moments. This is arguably the funniest joke throughout the performance. When William Gillette and his best friend Felix Geisel (Kevin Rothery) discover her dead for the first time, they provide genuine reactions, and immediately call the police. Shortly after the call, hilarious Inspector Goring (Karen Johnson Diamond) brings comedy and mystery to the show with her ridiculous laugh and lack of perception.
Costumes bring out a character’s personality even when that character has little or no lines, and I am happy to say that director Mark Bellamy made no exceptions this time around. Every costume matched the corresponding character’s behavior perfectly, and when this is combined with the set and lighting, an appropriate sense of mystery is established. The music and sound effects created drama at some moments, but were not used often. If there was music kept constant throughout the performance it would definitely improve the audience’s experience. Needless to say there were many dry moments in the play, but it was easily made up for with the outstanding character development and suspense which makes “The Games Afoot” a must see performance.
Free Choice
Tainting heat bleeds into everything. The trees, lush and green, cast shadows that bask the land before them in a comforting chill that gives the boy momentary comfort as he passes through, free from the blinding light-heat of sky’s relentless torch. Padding along behind him are his two brothers, older in years but lacking in the knowledge that writhes in the boy’s own consciousness, itching to be used and growing ever restless as he is guided forward by his mother, with no particular destination in mind.
At last they stop, his family gathering about some sort of landmark, his own interest being long since stanched within the gaping wound that is boredom. The need to stop soon becomes the need to walk aimlessly once more as the heat beats ceaselessly against his skin, threatening to turn it a puffy red.
Body and mind alike are relieved as the cooling vapors of a fountain brush against sun scorched skin. The shade of countless leafy trees cast a blanket of darkness across the soft green carpet of the garden, but there is still nothing to do and the boy finds himself growing bored once more.
Standing before a sculpture of stone, he studies its design to keep himself from growing impatient. He looks again to the rocks that line the path, but finds himself looking beyond what his eyes see, and instead to the countless thoughts of others who see that rock, who overlook it because it so ordinary, it blends in perfectly. He lifts up the rock and considers this for a moment, an idea springs into mind and he soon finds himself placing the rock on the sculpture he studied so closely a moment ago. To his satisfaction, it blends in just as it had on the path. One would look at it and give it no more thought than they would a fleck of dust, for it is now, apparently, a part of the sculpture.