April

reading evolves: Jostein Gaarder
When I first read "Sophie's World" I was not so impressed. To me at the time, it was basically a failed attempt at putting a long philosophy lecture into story book setting. I was particularly eager to discredit it after having heard such raving accolades on that work.
But lately I have reread a little bit of 'Sophie's World' and though I have gleaned some insights in past readings, the books seens richer as I read it now. Have I grown enough to appreciate something that means to tell us something very serious under the guise of a story/ And indeed, often nowadays it seems that simple tales/novels can no longer satisfy. They must have depth, beauty, truth... some form of acknowledgement of love as a necessary part of life, for me to enjoy it.
The Solitaire Mystery, in the beginning, was vastly dull. Perhaps because I expected a story like any other, and it was going about at an extremely slow pace. Later, the pace quickened, and I was enthralled by a tales within tales. Like Sophie's World, the last part came as a great rushing Mardi Gras, with all the cards falling into place and fate playing the role of seductress and death's head. I find that I felt quite satisfied when I had finally finished the book, without quite sure of why. But I know it was not the attractions of inevitable fate that filled me, but the tidbits, here and there. The suggestions, the lovely lightbulbs that lit several times in the seam of mundanity, and the love that the author showed. The story plot, in fact, became a sort of distraction from what the writer was really trying to say. And thus beauty, failure, and adoration wove something utterly unique and mundane. A piece of driftwood from a brilliant mind. And it was love at last sight.

musings on a bus: a clear fact
I recall this piece of news a few years back about a college student who, on a dare, ran the track butt naked. He was given a strong warning by the school, almost considered for expulsion, and a wide coverage by the media.
What interested me was how upset the school - and the general public - became at this behavior. Didn't the ancient Greeks compete in athletes nude? Didn't the Egyptian children wear nothing, and the Egyptian women and early Elizabethan women go about their business bearing their breasts? Why do we make such a big deal about those places? The penis and the nipples. Perhaps the only thing it suggests to us is sexuality, and because we have gotten used to having those parts covered the idea that it may become uncovered is appalling. For the penis, we have these myths: that each person has different sizes, for example, and that size makes a difference, and the sight of the organ will inspire passion and other such inappropriate behavior in people. It would be very dismal if we were to judge our mates by their size, and also we must avoid embarrassing 'accidents'. Parts of our body have become pieces of shame rather than normal body parts. Because it is constantly covered it becomes a taboo, something only to be whispered, because it suggests 'you-know-what'. Really, it is our minds that generally wander to that area of thought. And some girls might even think the male organ grotesque and obscene because they have never seen such an organ under normal circumstances. I have, I must admit, found it extremely disgusting to be a part of a male. I have since attempted to view every piece of our bodies as something natural, for it really isn't fair to blame the plainer sex for something they can't help having.
And what are breasts but chests padded with fat? Really, these issues have become a weapon with which we can threaten others with. Our own bodies have betrayed us in that respect! Nude pictures of our ex-lovers are weapons of blackmail...
Though I am far from saying that nudity is something we should all attempt in public, I believe that there is something unnatural in a society that is so terrorized by the image of our own bodies. Things that are natural can be made evil by condemnation, and in the case of nudity this fact shines clearly.
the progress (or antiprogress) of language
It is amazing how far language has come, or receded, rather. The circumstances of the chinese language is very similar to that of the English, though varies in deatil of change. Basically we can say that for both languages in the past when education was not compulsory and literacy was low, the upper classes(excluding the women for the chinese) could play with language with prime complexity and depth. For the chinese the capability was characterized by using as little words as possible to express the most possible, which required an intimate knowledge of the various nuances of meaning and thorough understanding of past works of literature. For the English a vast repertoire of vocabulary was necessary. Both valued the beauty of structure and melody.
The first blow to this system was the compulsorization of education, which, in order to let the general public use language with ease and proficiency, generally lowered the standards until today the teachings mostly consist of what is necessary for everyday use. (for the chinese, the olde system of the language was even entirely abandoned and made way for the more colloquial system of writing which we use today, though the old system is still studied as our heritage).
The second blow was the revolution of entertainment and communication. The radio, movies, television, and telephone (not in that exact order). In some cases the devices took up most of the time that people generally spent in conversation and reading. In the case of communication systems like the telephone it allowed people instant comunication and thus less need to write - or the leisure and patience to compose a message well.
All in all, language has evolved, perhaps favorably for a conition of social and global equality. However, it comes at the lamentable price of less patience with consideration to feelings and knowledge of communication (for we get so little practice), and that is what we must strive to correct in ourselves in this age of disconnection and oblivion.