#5 If I ever get around to my novel...

Like everybody else in the world, I'm working on a novel. (actually, i'm writing a couple -.-;)
The story has many plot twists so it's difficult to explain, but it's about another dimension in which science is a highly guarded luxury. For instance, most people live in wooden or straw houses, they ride horses or other animals for transportation, but a small group of people have guns far superior than our own. Teleportation is possible, and so is the ability to cleave whole worlds in two. Although this secret is closely guarded. And before I forget, there are also elves who can cast magic (this speeds up the advancement of technology a great deal). In that world, humans have dissected magic into a science. The title has morphed from my original idea so severely that i've decided to put it's construction on hold for the time being. Let me feed you the prologue before I continue rambling... (I had so much fun writing this :D)

      She clutched the baby closer, as if any minute, the infant would vaporize into thin air. The woman's gasps came out in short, jagged breathes.

Every wave of air sent a spasm of pain into her body as it scorched her throat. She couldn't stop, not now, not when the end was so close. Another blast of adrenaline surged through her body as she caught a glimpse of light up ahead.

      She had been running for hours in the mercilessly dense forest. The pitiful amount of light that managed to seep through the crevices of the canopy above could barely illuminate the forest floor, and a few feet in any direction was shrouded in darkness. The sound of faint hoof beats made her stop in her tracks. She listened intensely through the silence of the trees, and her heart sank. She had hours of a head start, and yet they had gained ground quickly. She whipped her dress around, time was of the essence, and she needed every second to get out alive, or at least, to save the child. She sprinted towards the opening. 

     A village laid on the other side, and the woman knew they were her only chance of survival. She put on another burst of speed. Suddenly, the forest erupted into flames around her. The conflagration swallowed the surrounding trees- it's roar tremendous. She balked as the heat licked the hem of her dress. The wails of the infant spiraled through the air. The woman rocked the baby gently, and willed herself to be calm. The sound of hooves became louder and soon, the silhouettes of bulky riders came into view. They stopped their horses and looked down at her with black, beady eyes. There were three of them. The woman stifled a scream. Ogres. 

      The monsters were as big as the horses themselves, with ram horns protruding from the sides of their diminutive heads. They wore black armor and a helmet with specially crafted holes for their horns, which were twisted and were about a yard long. She straightened her shoulders and faced them with more courage than she felt. They did not speak in the human tongue as they conversed with each other, but she knew they were incapable of casting magic, their tiny brains allowed little more than grunting and movement. Her eyes darted around, searching for the spell caster. The roar of the flame was deafening and she could feel the sweat pouring down her back. A slight shimmer of movement on her left. Perfect. She closed her eyes and started to mutter words rapidly under her breathe. The beasts looked at each other, confused. Enunciating, she raised her arm out in front of her, flicked her wrist and shot her palm out. A sickening crunched split the atmosphere and a diaphanous amount of water exploded into the forest, rapidly smothering the fire and crushing the ogres. She couldn't see the mage, but he couldn't get out of this alive. Hurriedly, she drew the infant to her chest and darted out the forest. 

       She arms and legs were badly burnt, but she ignored the pain. Her vision blurred and she could see the darkness invading from the corners of her eyes. She didn't know if she was losing consciousness or if it was her eyes attempting to adjust to the harsh light. She crashed into the nearest doorstep she could see and flung herself against the wooden door. She didn't know who opened it, or when the unconsciousness settled in, but she heard herself whisper as the ground rushed up to meet her, "protect the child, protect the child..."


The whole story revolves around one idea "be the change you want to see in the world". Directly contrasting to SH 5, I believe acceptance is important, but so is the will to change things for the better. To attempt things beyond one's own scope. I don't remember where I read this, but Oscar Wilde once said: Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination. 

~ceci

#2 - Laughter or tears?

"Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward."
Vonnegut has been through a lot, and for many veterans, having an optimistic outlook on life is the only means to put the horrors of war behind them. I quite admire Vonnegut and his courage- not many people can witness disfigured and tortured bodies and still see the bright side of life.

Through slaughter house 5, many events in Billy's life reflect this ideal. The Tralfamadorians hold on to the thought that dead people are only dead at a specific moment. They focus on the memories of when the person was alive.

Another concept this quote reminds me of is tolerance. If you choose to be tolerant instead of intolerant, then you're choosing to be content over disatisfied. The first example from the book that I can think of is probably Billy's marriage. There is, if any, a very, very shallow kind of love between he and his wife. Or rather, his wife (maybe?) loves him, but those feelings aren't reciprocated. In fact, I don't think Billy can reciprocate any feeling, let alone love. Anyway, this nonchalant indifference towards her physique (which Kurt describes as less-than-pleasant) has lead to a balance. Billy doesn't dwell on her shortcomings and so they have a stable marriage.

Living this way leaves you happy, so why not?

-ceci

#3 The Definition of Good Literature

It's absurd that books that invoke strong sentiments should be banned...isn't that what defines good literature to begin with? If the book provides no message, invokes no emotion, and takes no stance, what would entice a reader to pick it up? By banning books that come off strong, you're banning the books that should be read, and leaving the meaningless literature on the shelves. What kind of logic is that?

As for slaughter house five and it's potential to offend: at any street corner the feeling of absurdity can strike a man in the face (Camus). I seem to have been struck. It reminds me of Baglole saying, "Happy Winter-Holiday-Festival-Season" or how people on youtube have to apologize to mac users for using a PC and to PC users for using a mac. It's tragic both on the flaming end and the apologetic end.

On top of that, all the parts that were deemed inappropriate were things that really happen or happened or clearly opinion. If Vonnegut was lying through his teeth or committing some heinous, calumnious act, then fine. But he has a right, like any of us, to spout opinion (sensical or otherwise). Banning or censoring his book on the basis that his doesn't correlate with the public or the government is absurdity in itself.

Besides, in a book that delivers truth, banning it only further proves his point.


-ceci

#1-Timelines and Blind Time: Fate, Free Will and Human Expectation.

I’ve never been one to pick a side.
Don’t worry.  This is no exception.

Though I may not believe in, concretely, either fate or free will, I do believe in luck, circumstances and the power of human character and perseverance. Billy , as detatched as he is (mixed with the influence from the Tralfamadorians) simply accepts life and life events for what they are. I believe that this is the least helpful stance that could possibly be taken. You may be born in to certain circumstances, but, like branches on a tree, every decision you make alters where your path may lead you.

It has been said that character is fate. In that regards, trying to take control of your own life and do something on your own free will could, in itself, be a form of fate.

Can life be said to have any meaning if nothing we do matters anyways?

 If everything is meant to be, why even try?

 I refuse to take that outlook.

 If you, right now, decided to drop out of high school and run away, I can guarantee nothing good would come of it.

Did I just tell you where fate would lead you?

No.

Are you likely to decide something like that?

No, but that’s personal character making an executive decision on dumb ideas. It would be a decision, but the outcome would be pretty obvious. The problem that arises is that the small decisions that you make at every moment don’t have obvious outcomes, and that’s where the human factor comes into play. There are endless possibilities stretching out in every single direction, and we have no clue where any of them lead.

Life is a labyrinth, and there’s nothing we can do but amble around, trying to figure out what the hell to do next.

#1 - Fate or Free Will?

As pathetic as it sounds, I can't let myself believe that my life is predestined. I want to work hard, and I want that hard work to pay off.
 A fish has the entire expanse of ocean- of possibility- before it. But it may swim against the current or with it, and expect varying results.
Relatively, success in life seems to directly correlate with laziness. If our paths are predestined, how is it that the indolent masses tend end up with the same one? Arguably, our degrees of slothfulness are also predetermined. Then woe to the ones who change for the better and end up with worse. Which leads me to my original point.
Even if the plans of our lives were laid out before we were born into this world, it's much healthier to believe otherwise. As humans, our lives are pretty much devoid of meaning anyway. Living while knowing that any action is futile and will result in the same consequences regardless strips the color out of life.


We'll probably never know whether or not our fates are decided, but we should at least gives ourselves a chance to believe that our effort will bring us to a brighter outcome than our laziness.


The idea of our futures being predestined almost angers me. If it's true, who decides it? Is it random? Is it mass production of human souls on some godly conveyor belt or does genuine thought and concern go into our "programming"? There's just too many variables and I'm too lazy to consider them all :)


Edit: As I was going back through the question I realized I had to use some example from the text to support my idea.I find this particularly distressing since the whole planet of Tralfamadore believes that fate is etched in stone and Billy just accepts this fact. So I will take the stance that Billy should filter the Tralfamadorians' advice carefully. Take the happy ideas such as the notion that when people die they are simply in a bad condition in that moment of time and live contently in other moments, and disregard the idea that you have no control over your life or your future. Futility shackles man.


-Ceci