There are things in life we do not get to choose. We can choose our response to a given situation, but fate has a major hand in deciding what situations we will encounter in the first place. I say this because I have recently rearranged my thinking on an old idea.
(Note: this is not a cheerful post. It’s not for children, either.)
The first thing I have noticed is the light. In the late afternoon the sun is low in the sky. Its light streams in through the window, and from where I sit the sun will traverse the gap between the top of the window frames and the top of the outer wall outside. The window frames, an elegant bit of fancy woodwork, hold dozens of panes of glass, and throw convenient shadows for my eyes to hide behind.
It is summer in Afghanistan, and the sunlight comes right through the window, directly onto me. I should cook, and yet through some architectural magic, the light is soft, cool, and diffuse. There is a notebook in my hands, and if I hold it one way, it is bathed in light. Tilt it slightly, and it plunges into shadow. Balance it just in between, and the texture of the paper pops up into high relief. Every fiber stands out, and the graphite letters all but glow. Continue reading
In an obscure corner of the Humanities, they study a place called Serindia. Serindia appears on no map, as it had no political identity. It was a region defined by a common and very unusual artistic culture. It was a fusion of two great cultures, actually, and it produced some stunningly beautiful artworks. Serindia had no definite geographical boundaries, it was just a curious borderland.
Meeting aggression with aggression, I have gone out every day to tear up the dandelions that want to conquer my back yard. We all know that dandelions must be removed root and all if they are to be defeated, but usually the roots stick stubbornly in the ground. Nevertheless, if I pluck off the leaves and flowers every day, I think the root must eventually die. But my dandelions are learning…
“…There is a profound irony in what you are asking from me… it hinges on the truth that when a man sees evil and does nothing, he becomes a part of it…”
Did Jesus really exist, or is he just a rehash of older myths? Check out the debate I’m having with my new pal xenlogic over at The World According to Xenocrates, where we’re scrutinizing the Metternich Stele and studying star charts…
…In one dimension, a number has only one square root (√1 = 1). But in higher dimensions, there are multiple possible square roots…
…Corrigan insisted that in the dark, he couldn’t tell that he’d been following the wrong end of the compass needle. By the time the sun had come up, it was too late for him to turn back…
