The boy with the white hair pointed out not too long ago that I become heavily influenced by whatever book I am currently reading. I argued at first, but let’s get real, he was absolutely right. Last month I was ready to start a cult after reading A Very Minor Prophet. The month before that I was cursing the use of plastic and paper towels after reading No Impact Man, and the month before that I had a huge crush on River Phoenix after reading his biography. Now, more than ever, I want to spread the word of the evils of the white man. We fucked everything up. The world now needs to understand that just because we don’t understand a certain way of life, does not mean that it needs change. We all just need to leave each other’s cultures and civilizations alone.
I don’t discuss books much on this blog, but I’m not sure why. I am constantly reading and I always have to stop myself from writing an entry about whatever book I just read because I know that none of you care about my passion vomits. But today, I don’t care that you don’t care. I’m about to passion vomit all over you. And for Christ’s sake, start reading books with me! I just read The Poisonwood Bible, and here are some quotes from it that heavily influenced me, along with my commentary that you won’t care about:
“Hunger of the body is altogether different from the shallow, daily hunger of the belly. Those who have known this kind of hunger cannot entirely love, ever again, those who have not.”
This passage made me think about how little the world understands each other. This lack of understanding is really what leads to wars. But bringing it back to the topic of hunger, if you were someone who has honestly starved, been plagued with a threat of not being able to eat day after day, you could never honestly love someone like me. Someone who has dieted and thrown food away and shops in grocery stores that holds more food than some villages see in generations.
“Like Daniel she enters the lions’ den, but lacking Daniel’s pure and unblemished soul, Ada is spiced with the flavors of vice that make for a tasty meal. Pure and unblemished souls must taste very bland, with an aftertaste of bitterness.”
Cody and I were talking recently about being weird. He is definitely weird, and I am as well, though sometimes I camouflage it better than him. I think. Actually, I think I have gotten more weird with age because in the last couple of years I have heard people declare me as “weird” quite a bit. I think people who have this characteristic also have a certain level of inner darkness in common. The weird ones tend to have the most demons. My point to him however was, I think it’s cool! I would take a weird person over a “normal” person any day. Weird people are much more interesting. Hence the quote. Pure and unblemished souls are boring and bland. Maybe that’s why the lion didn’t eat Daniel.
“Green mamba, mistress of camouflage, agility, aggressiveness, and speed. The experts claim in the library book of snakes: In this serpent the diabolic genius of nature has attained the highest degree of perfection. What had passed before us was a basket of death, exploded.”
I’m now obsessed with green mamba’s and want to get a tattoo of one.
“…by the grace of hell.”
That just sounds badass.
“To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know. In perfect stillness, frankly, I’ve only found sorrow.”
If you can find peace in stillness, you have found enlightenment and are far stronger than me. If you’re like me however, you have to keep moving or else go insane.
“The power is in the balance: we are our injuries, as much as we are our successes.”
Be equally as grateful for your failures as for your successes. In the end, it’s all the same thing.
“The loss of a life: unwelcome. Immoral? I don’t know. Depends perhaps on where you are, and what sort of death. Hereabouts, where we sit among such piles of leftover protein we press into cakes for the pets, who usefully guard our empty chairs; here where we pay soothsayers and acrobats to help lose our weight, then yes, for a child to die from hunger is immoral. But this is just one place. I’m afraid I have seen a world. In the world, the carrying capacity for humans is limited.”
Leave Africa the fuck alone. Those people have survival figured out. Or had at least. We may have fucked it up beyond salvation now. Sure, a lot of kids die there, and yes, it’s sad, but that is the way of life that they have known for millions of years. Just because it is different from ours, doesn’t make it wrong. They have nine kids in the hopes that one or two reach adulthood. There, they only have one word for all things living and passed. Villages only had one word to refer to those living and those dead. To them, death is company, not an enemy. This brings me to the next quote…
“If you could for a moment rise up out of your own beloved skin and praise ant, human, and virus as equally resourceful beings, you might admire the accord they have all struck in Africa.”
This is believing in all things equally. Believing in the fundamental right for a plant or a virus to rule the earth. Maybe it sounds that I have no heart for humans, but I think I have too much. I see what we have done and what we deserve. We should really stop fighting death and all walk together into the heart of darkness and let nature take its course. But we are selfish and the unknown is scary and death is a mixture of selfishness and the unknown, so we avoid it at all costs. I say that death is selfish because what mourning is, is mourning our own loss.
“All the noise in my brain, I clamp it to the page so it will be still.”
Why writer’s write.
“Conquest and liberation and democracy and divorce are words that mean squat, basically, when you have hungry children and clothes to get out on the line and it looks like rain.”
This goes right along with what I have been preaching for quite some time. That us people in the First Word have the LUXURY of whining about democracy, divorce, liberation, etc. because we don’t need to worry about survival in the way that people in some other places do. I rant about this more in …Annoying First World Problem.
“I have lost all the words to my childhood prayers, so my head rings with its own Grand Silence.”
I think that one of the first signs of losing one’s inner peace and innocence, is when silence becomes an enemy.
Passion vomit concluded. The lesson to be learned here is, read The Poisonwood Bible.