‘Twilight’ Book Review

A dear friend of mine, knowing my love for ‘I Am Legend’ (the novel), gifted me
another vampire novel, Twilight.

I had not seen the film when I decided to read it, so I went into the story unaware that it was, I think it safe to say, largely a love story.  (My
gifting friend was also unaware of the romantic nature of the plot).

Having said that, I have no qualms about saying that I enjoyed the read.  It was
a well paced story with believable characters and engrossing conflict.
Additionally, I think that the author did an excellent job of attaching us to
the main character’s safety.  With some stories, we, the readers, get the
feeling that our protagonist is invincible.  We know that ‘red shirts‘ may come
and go, but the captain is invulnerable.
It is emphasised, naturally but consistently, that this is not the case with our
main character.  She is anything but infallible, and her fragility is
believable and endearing.

As for the romance, while I tend not to read love stories (at all), this one was
acceptable, even for this lover of post-apocalyptic fiction.  Personally, I think this is
because the relationships move like real ones.  This doesn’t feel ‘hollywood’ at
all, with spires of white and braids of gold let down.  The excitement of the
relationship is in the anticipation of it, complete with arguments and
misunderstandings.  And yet, this was accomplished without making the reader
feel like they’re watching East Enders or As the World Turns.  The relationships
aren’t melodramatic.  Just dramatic.

Finally, I have to say that it was rather different for me to sit for the duration of
my reading in the brain of (I assume) a well-portrayed teenage girl.  It was a
bit like listening in on your sister’s conversations with her friends, and
somehow getting the thoughts as well.  While I might not pick up a book
explicitly for the purpose of seeing a female perspective on life and events, it
was refreshingly different from what I read normally, and for the time I was
reading, I did tend to notice events around me in a different light than I would
normally perceive them.  And if I ever need to write female characters
at length, I’ll probably immerse myself in Twilight and the sequels first.

In conclusion, it’s a good read, self contained despite the existence of
sequels, with nice tension and drama.  On the whole it was satisfying, despite being
outside my normal genres.

 

Leader of the Free World

A phrase is thrown around quite a bit in reference to the President of the United States. He or she is often referred to, interchangeably with his or her official title, as The Leader of the Free World.

I have my suspicions that this began as a hyperbole. The role comes with an incredible amount of responsibility, no doubt, and makes waves in the happenings of not only the western world, but of the entire globe.

It is my firm belief, though, that even as a hyperbole (which it is no longer), this title is beyond a misnomer. To use The Free World as an equivalent to the United States of America is simply rude. Do the borders of the continental United States really mark the end of freedom’s homeland? Does opression abound just off-shore? Or I suppose where international waters begin, if one is being technical?

Let us then assume that I’m misinterpreting this title, and that freedom is not synonymous exclusively with life in the USA. That would then denote that the title Leader of the Free World is not saying that freedom is exlcusive to the USA. What it is saying, then, is that the reach of authority of the President is far beyond that of the executive branch of the United States.

It reads a bit like a superhero introduction, doesn’t it? “Wherever there is freedom. Wherever there is peace. Wherever justice abounds and the voice of the people is heard. There you will find… Super-President!”

To be frank, it’s preposterous. This mentality is part of why the United States is criticised globally for world-policing. Not only do many of the inhabitants actually believe that the rest of the world is subject to US law and policy, but one gets the impression that the Office-holder himself/herself has taken to this belief.

To illustrate the fallacy, I hereby dub myself the Leader of Central London. Why? Well, I am actually in charge of a small portion of central London. (Namely, my own personal space.) But the ramifications of my decisions are widespread. If I, for example, were to strip to nude and cover myself in maple syrup before sprinting down Shaftesbury Avenue, I could stop traffic, cause congestion in crowds, and leave a very sticky trail for the space of a mile or two. (I’m that fast, even sticky. Don’t ask me how I know.) But does that really make me the Leader of Central London, just because my actions are capable of affecting the area? No. And so it is with the United States. The US policy will no doubt affect the rest of the world. And financial ties and military strength certainly carry quite a bit of weight. But I sincerely believe and hope that if Mr. or Mrs. President ever tells Britain to close all of her pubs under the antiquated Eighteenth Amendment to the Constitution, Gordon Brown or whomever is in charge would tell the Leader of the Free World to stuff it.

In short, with all respect, I wish that the leader and citizens of the United States thought of themselves as members of a global community instead of 1st class passengers on spaceship earth, the rest of the world hanging back in coach.

 

Lunch, Monks, Money, and a Homeless Guy

Today, I did what I normally do for lunch. I walked to my book store of choice in London for some quiet reading time away from my work desk.

And like normal, while in transit, I was asked for money by a British charity. (They love their charities here, which is actually quite impressive.)

But today I stopped because I saw no clipboard, and thought the man in the nice dark coat that was getting my attention was lost. So being nice for a change, I removed the earbuds and spoke with him.

The misjudgement of a situation can only last so long, and minutes passed of jovial conversation with no question arising of how to get to Rathbone Place. I had given my first name, been asked where I was from, if I lived in London, whether I was working or attending school, and whether I was happy (to which I said yes).

The last question seemed to be problematic for the gentleman, or perhaps my answer to said question. It seemed that I had derailed him and that he was improvising from then on.

“Are you an artist or a musician?” he said, “because they’re the ones that are happy in what they do. Everyone else seems to live lives they don’t like.”

I told him that I am an artist, and he smiled, seemingly feeling back on track, or maybe just glad I was humouring him.

Finally, colloquial discussion with the stranger ended and he got to his point.

He handed me a book, very colourful, and told me it was similar to yoga and meditation and those things. He showed me the back if his shaved head, a small lock of hair situated there in the middle, and informed me that he was a monk.

Not what I expected, but he seemed a pleasant fellow, so he still had my ear.

“So this is your religious text?” I asked.
“No, it’s not a religion; it’s a spiritual experience.”

Why is it that no religion wants to be known as a religion?

“…and for a donation this book can be yours.”

The penny drops, almost literally.

I fished out my change and gave it to him, just as another man approached. He seemed to think myself and the monk were friends, so he interrupted and asked us both for money.

Myself, the only one at this impromptu meeting without a financial agenda, found the dynamic absolutely hilarious. I had to keep myself from chuckling as the kind monk stood there, seeming torn.

Surely there was some edict in his faith about helping others, or perhaps not. In either case, he didn’t know what to say to the man asking him for money as he asked for money.

I had already given my change away, so I just grinned at the two men as they stood, unspeaking, in a confused situation.

“…I’m a monk!” he stammered. “I’m asking for money, I can’t give it.” He was smiling, but there was a touch of frustration in his voice as he enlightened the beggar.

“Oh right,” the beggar replied, “I can’t spare much, but here’s this…” And be put his change into the monk’s hand.

The monk looked down, then up, then back at the money and said, “Oh right…”

The beggar went away, then the nice monk wished me a nice day and handed me the book, turning to speak to someone else before I was gone.

I kept the book (as I’m always interested in a different point of view), but I have to say that I’m not simply amused by the situation.  I’m also a little disappointed.

Maybe it’s my own past and history that gives me this slant, but I see no point in pontificating on the finer points of any faith if you aren’t helping people on a basic level.  I find it sad that the more giving of the two men was the beggar.  But then, maybe that’s why so many religions praise the financially unattached.  The poor and those that shun the cluttering things of this life.

I think I witnessed first-hand one of the most common failings of organised religion.  The monk, kind as he was, had his agenda, and because of his preoccupation with it, he missed an opportunity to show kindness to someone who seemed to need it.

 

An Old Book

Sitting on the train this morning, a younger gentleman sat across from me. He was well kept, bulky but fairly in shape, early twenties, and he had an iPod shuffle on his lapel.

In his hands, he had an old book. The pages were very coloured with age, the cover was being held on manually as he read, and the first third of the book had come unbound and was being balanced in place with his fingers.

It was such an odd contrast, (the iPod and the old book) that it stood out to me. In the daily commute I see magazines, free lite papers, and all manner of pretentious bullshit and celebrity gossip. Ray Bradbury would, I think, consider himself a prophet if he commuted in modern London. The amount of fast-food-information is overpowering.

But today, the book burners were kept at bay. It made me happy to see a book that had either been kept for years, cherished, or it had been acquired in that state. Either way, it was a testament to the endurance of a human idea. It was a steak dinner, home cooked, right in the middle of the quickie-mall food court.

And it gave me hope.

 

Guest Review on TheNintendork.com

A friend if mine allowed me to guest-review game titles for his site. My first one is up. It’s a review of Sonic the Hedgehog 3 for Virtual Console on the Wii.

Those considering picking the title up might find this useful.

http://www.thenintendork.com

 

Statistically Speaking

NOTE: This is a re-post from my old blog. I thought I’d bring it over. Read on at your own peril.

——

Statistically speaking, there will be 6 crimes of violence this year for every 1000 people in London right now.

Departing from raw statistical data for a moment, allow me to divulge what solidified my current thoughts.

I watched a show recently about a guy that had figured out a system to predict horse race results. The show followed one person that had been invited to participate in the system, and it was incredible. They had won 5 races in a row by picking the winning horse and putting all their funds on it.

The guy with the system, in order to prove its effectiveness in predicting results of seemingly random events, proceeds to predict that he will flip a coin 10 times and get heads every time. And he does it. Could it be faked? Sure, of course. I work in fooling the camera, so yeah. It could be faked. But without being a fiction show (which it wasn’t), the horse races could not be falsified, and the coin toss accompanying it is very validating.

But after he does the coin toss, he reveals the system to the participant. The system was this. They took the probabilities and introduced that many participants. Thousands of participants, each given a ‘winning’ horse to bet on. One group would win out of six, they’d dismiss the non-winners and refund their money, thanking them for participating. That winning group would be split up for the next race, and so on. So the group gets divided every time until you get down to 1 person that has won every race. They threw the numbers at it and statistically it is going to happen with enough participants, no matter how unlikely it is.

Improbable is not impossible.

So with the coin toss, he flipped the coin all day long and recorded it until he got 10 heads in a row. Given enough tosses, it will happen, however unlikely.

My point (solidified by this experiment) is this. It is unlikely that something bad is going to happen to my son. Or Sarah. But it is not impossible, only improbable. We see it on the news all the time. Statistically, some poor parents are going to be parted with their child in a terrible accident.

So this is why I’ve been criticised for being more cautious than the average guy. Looking both ways before crossing the street a little more diligently than necessary. Locking the doors and the windows at night, even windows off the ground floor. Reading more about a new toy online than I have to before handing it to the wee boy.

Statistically, bad things will happen, and they will happen to the average person. Therefore, I will do whatever I must to remove myself from the pool of the average. I can’t make my family invincible, but I can lower the odds of bad things happening.

 

Unsolicited Parenting Advice

NOTE: This is a re-post from my old blog. I thought I’d bring it over. Read on at your own peril.

——

There are moments in life that shift you from one population grouping to another. High School graduation takes you (for the most part) from childhood to adulthood. Marriage, parenthood, and so on.

And for some reason, each of these shifts somehow invite advice (often from acquaintances and even strangers). When I graduated, I remember all the advice I got from near strangers. To be fair, most of that advice was very good, but it was still unsolicited. When I got married, suddenly everyone right down to the grocery store cashier wanted to talk about sex. This discussion was somewhat less welcome. And when our wee bundle came, a new onslaught of subjective experiences and opinions greeted us.

That said, I have told those expecting friends of mine that I will do them this favor. I will not offer unsolicited pregnancy/parenthood advice. I have told them that they are welcome to ask, but I will not force it.

Now let me amend that statement. I will not force it in person.

Specifically, I could have been informed about the following things…

1. The spray of urine during nappy-changing doesn’t always happen right away. It sometimes is delayed until all the cleanup is done and you’re ready to re-wrap. A carefully placed baby wipe will contain the situation.

2. Baby swings are like legal infant heroin (in a good way). Battery powered ones (that you don’t have to crank) are even better. This one should be right up there with the crib on the purchasing list.

3. Baby vomit happens. Sometimes its small. Sometimes IT’S LIKE THE FREAKING EXORCIST. Like a water hose with a 4 foot range shooting milk almost parallel from the opening. And not always just for a second. You can sometimes get a good 2 or 3 seconds of flow. This is downright frightening when the baby is laying down on their back. Don’t panic and burp often to help prevent this.
4. Have about 2 more outfits than you think you need at all times. If you think you need 2 outfits for a day, have 4. Shoes included. Things that would prevent an outfit from being worn are sometimes a full body experience (see tip 3).
5. Same goes for nappies. If you think you need one while your out, take 3.
6. Sleep goes away. You think you know this going into it, but not really. Because it’s not like you just have to stay up all night some nights. It’s a war of attrition. One hour of sleep, then wake up suddenly and be ready to change and feed. Another hour and a half. Do it again. So it’s not like you just miss sleep some nights. More like you just never sleep except in one or two hour naps. That said, take breaks when your significant other gives them and sleep when you can! And be sure to return the favor and give breaks often to let her sleep through the night.
7. For all the hard work you know about and don’t know about…there is nothing in the world like making your child smile. (And not by stretching his mouth with your fingers).