My Favorite Authors Thus Far, and Why I Read Them

Fiction to Non-Fiction: My Influences and Motivators

"Take the liberty of thinking for yourself. Much more truth, beauty and wisdom will come to you that way, I promise" - Christopher Hitchens 

Not much time has passed since I finished my university degree and left academic institutions. However, I feel compelled to mention something that may seem to be counter-intuitive upon recognition. I only began to appreciate the written word and reading for its own sake, once I had completed my school studies. To some, this may seem perfectly logical and even something with which they can sympathize; others may feel that this is fundamentally incompatible with academic requirements and success. My explanation is predicated on the chore-making of one's passions by the university, and the suppression of genuine curiosity in favor of mass production of assessments. In short, university commodified my interests. This lead to misdirected resentment and bitterness, giving me the false impression that literature and classical history were rigidly insipid. Once I had distanced myself from the center of examination and bureaucracy, I began to experience what seemed to me to be, the true consolation of print. 

I hold a myriad of titles in my personal library, ranging from political science and philosophy to thriller-fiction and biology. I have started about 30 of these works (about ten percent of my total collection) and completed none. At first glance, that would appear to be unfortunate and irresponsible. I have even tried to reconcile my penchant for lack of completion with science, hypothesizing that my inability to finish a title is correlated with a lack of patience, fostered by excessive instant gratification and its ensuing dopamine release. Plausible, to say the least. However I would now like to focus on the positive aspect of this tendency, seeing how I have thus far neglected it - reverence. My new found love has rendered me ecstatic at the mere consideration of how many books I own, let alone what they have to offer and the education that could result. Although Seneca warned against this type of behavior in his Stoic letters, arguing that one is not truly valuing knowledge per se if they are simply enamored with the multitude of their library, I use my contentment as motivation to study and safeguard whatever information I can recollect. Perhaps the native Spaniard was right, but only time will tell.

To the part we have all been awaiting - who has influenced me personally and textually, and whose works I cherish and recommend so early on in my literary career. I will try to be terse, but brevity has never been my strong suit. Here is a tentative list: George Orwell, George Eliot, H.P Lovecraft, Saul Bellow, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Christopher Hitchens, Marcel Proust, and Honoré de Balzac. I will attempt to provide short explanations for a few of them. 

George Orwell was an unbelievably honorable man of average education. He fought in the Spanish Civil War for a leftist army and was even shot in the throat; after which he wrote Homage to Catalonia. Orwell's Road to Wigan Pier has been my first in-depth encounter with him since the prolific 1984, and gives a detailed, sympathetic, and culturally humorous account of the tragic squalor and living conditions in which the working class of England subsisted in the mid twentieth century. His travels, experiences, and records remind me of my fortune and incense me to be just as bold and courageous as he was. I cannot wait to read Coming up for Air, A Clergyman's Daughter, Burmese Says, Shooting an Elephant, and anything else he has ever put to paper. 

George Eliot's Middlemarch is a work through which I am still ploughing, and with which I often have difficulty. This is exactly why (aside from the literary beauty and profundity) I appreciate her work. It is a constant reminder to maintain humility (almost to the point of ceaseless self-deprecation and insult) and a source of authentic feminism in fictional form. As Virginia Woolf stated "(Middlemarch) is the first novel written for adults." She also pushes at an open door for me with characters like Casaubon, and his propensity toward a classical education. Chronicling the journey of one Ms. Dorothy Brooke and her suitors, her impertinent sister Cecilia, and the rest of the Middlemarch town, it is a true exhibition of genius with an alluring female protagonist. Silas Marner, Daniel Deronda, and The Mill on the Floss are next on the docket. 

H.P Lovecraft is very special to me. I have never been a very big fan of horror or even thriller type movies, let alone books. I own two anthologies of his short stories that never fail to stimulate thought and, at the very least, anxious apprehension. Alright, I'll drop the macho act. Within 12-15 pages his words percolate my mind, spark insecurity, and fulminate paranoia - a night owl's kryptonite. The Temple had me a little on edge the other night, with a crude account of a calculating and cold Nazi submariner. Each one of his comrades consecutively fall into a maudlin and then schizophrenic stupor over an ivory image taken from an enemy captive. Forced to murder some of his men (some commit suicide), he plunges into the deepest fathoms of the ocean with dwindling power and supplies. He encounters a derelict underwater city, comprised of fanes, friezes, and ornate architecture. He spies the same ivory image, just before he himself succumbs to madness and hysteria. All the while recording this message in a vessel, hopefully to be retrieved one day. As you can see, time of day is key with his stuff. 

Christopher Hitchens is by definition the most influential and paradigm shifting writer for me. He did not write fiction, for as he said "I could not move people in that way."  He also is much younger than any of the aforementioned scribes, having just passed in December of 2011. I try my best not to have heroes or heroines, but it is difficult to resist the charm and eloquence of this well-read former-Trotskyist polemic journalist. Anything I attempt to write to describe his valor, intellect, integrity, or enlightenment would be a miserable failure. In fact, it may be an injustice and do anyone who reads this a disservice. He has had an enormous impact on my personal development and growth (despite being deceased) and redefined the term "independent thinker". Hopefully that doesn't sound too grovelling or smarmy, it's simply sincerity and honesty. His command of the English language, knowledge of history and literature in multiple humanities disciplines (politics, economics, language, religion, philosophy etc.) and charisma blow any reader away. There isn't a page, word, interview, or statement that he utters where I don't learn a new term or fact. To conclude, his writing is too captivating and entrancing to really be considered a read, it is best described as a revelation. A term which he would ironically contemn. 

There you have it, a brief synopsis of my top-tier scribblers. I'd imagine this is subject to change with time, but I certainly hope that progression won't lead to abandonment. 

Yours truly, a primate who couldn't lace these writer's jockstraps. 

Does Scientific Discovery Diminish Life's Treasures?

Why Science Inspires Beauty & Doesn't Eliminate Transcendence:

The Source of Distaste for the Natural

I have often heard it said that people find scientific discovery to make life's mysteries rigid and mechanical. I am befuddled by this claim, and not surprisingly, I strongly disagree with it. While I fundamentally concur that there is a certain mirth drawn from the mysterious and unknown, I do not think that attempting to clarify and improve our understanding renders the beauty non-existent. To the contrary; the more I begin to learn about the intricacies of the brain and the source of consciousness, the elements and characteristics of a black hole, or simply why I am failing to provide a good final example for this sentence, the more emotional my response is. I have been known to weep upon recognition of the discoveries and lessons taught by Mr. Neil De Grasse Tyson on Cosmos, or by reading the awe-inspiring words in Darwin's record about the finch speciation event in the Galapagos Islands. Of course, I do not even consider myself to have a layman's comprehension of the noble discipline, but whatever meager amount I can register, I treasure the ensuing feeling. 

For centuries, the notion of not knowing and not questioning what was unfamiliar or frightening to us was expressed and endorsed. This was either due to a desire for ideological advantage or insecurity of one's integrity and stature, or, both. Religiously political regimes have repeatedly and unfortunately retained the authority to disclose and impart ground-breaking and enlightening information, and as such, human understanding of the cosmos has been slighted and filtered to suit personal agendas. It would be churlish and dishonest to say that many great discoveries were not made by men of holy robes (e.g. the Big Bang Theory), yet censorship and corruption of education are still rife in modern culture. If you do not agree, I would urge you to research some of the Trump administration's efforts to exclude the teaching of the theory of evolution by natural selection to children, in favour of Bronze Age mythological theology. In other words, the state-financed and subsidized stultification of American children, attempting to generate new I.D proponents and making them out to be the laughing stock of the rest of the world. If the schools insist on offering equal teaching time to an unscientific hypothesis of our origins, then Sunday schools and madrasas had better be willing to reciprocate during their sermons. However, I do want to make it clear that I think Bible comprehension (even Quranic) is justified for cultural and literary purposes. Without this, John Donne, John Milton, William Shakespeare and many other's works would be unintelligible to us. A conclusion that would provide me with grief rather than satisfaction.

I would argue that pseudo-mysticism is one pertinent and cogent reason for so many people's penchant against scientific inquiry. Resorting to previously unfounded and cliche assertions of metaphysics, and how love cannot be reduced to chemical reactions in the brain and body. This to my mind is not a reduction, rather, it is an expansion. The more knowledge humanity acquires about the physiological provenance of meditation and the bliss experienced while listening to music and admiring art, the more we have to revere. This is an opportunity to produce more poetry, write new symphonies, and create innovative masterpieces on a canvas. It is not a sacrifice that one has to endure, but a gift that one ought to not spurn. To paraphrase Richard Dawkins "We shall never know what could have been produced, if Michael Angelo had been commissioned to paint the Museum of Science, or what Haydn's Mesozoic symphony would have sounded like." This was due to the institutions who offered patronage, and mankind's well warranted preference for sustenance and prosperity.

The landscape has changed, and faith has had to give quite a bit of ground. Now is precisely the time to capitalize, and appreciate that which nature so generously gives us - real beauty not to be taken for granted.

I humbly submit, a mammal indebted to the contributions of science

Why Millennial Politics Get Such a Bad Rap

The Tawdriness of Emotional Politics

As of late, I have come to encounter more Social Justice Warrior politicking - an inevitable occurrence if you are at all involved with social media. It is not news to me, nor do these people's campaigns ever really seem to be worth consideration; let alone impress me. They remind me of the type of schoolmates who always opposed the social consensus (in their own paltry and sniveling way), thwarting their comrades ambitions to either be allowed to watch a movie in class or have the lesson outside. You know the kind; the finks and stool-pigeons who ratted out everyone's desires to drop their textbooks simultaneously at 11:11 a.m, and to make sheepish grins and snicker at the teacher's agitated response. Immature and harmless offences that brightened our days, and allowed us to establish more credibility and solidarity with our fellow young primates. After all, one could argue that social integration and familiarity is one of the most important skills that a school can teach us, maybe even superseding the academic. 

I hope that little anecdote sparked a memory and incensed you as much as it did me. To be on the nose, I prefer the acronym SJV (Social Justice Virus) - simply because their efforts are undermining multicultural democracies, and their poisonous afflictions warrant a title that appropriately resembles a venereal disease. Don't let the plague infect you. If you ever find yourself in a deep or heated discussion about controversial contemporary topics, check yourself for these symptoms: demagogy, fear of confrontation, and consistent use of emotional verbiage. If you succeed in doing so, you may be able to salvage not only your reputation and the integrity of your relationships with others, but even prevent the epidemic from spreading to your compatriots.

I am not trying to embellish when I analogize pseudo-leftist apologetics to pernicious human diseases. To my mind, repeated appeals to pathos in rhetoric is truly nauseating and gives me flu-like symptoms. It has been proven to do so not only when I engage members of this accursed party, but when I begin to reminisce and review some of my former sympathies. I remember vividly bickering with a cousin at a family get together, barking somewhat self-righteously and ignorantly that women should be allowed to wear the burka everywhere in the U.K, because they have a right to their beliefs and you cannot deprive them of it. A position with which former disgraceful Arch Bishop of Canterbury Rowen Williams entirely sympathized. That was hard to type. I think, no - I assert, that this type of thinking and arguing is wicked and should occupy a higher priority on people's whining list; somewhere between Trump's presidency and unanswered sext-messages. It would be an improvement, I dare say.

To provide some actual insight and logos, (seeing as my ethos is in the safe-keeping of my audience - I hope that wasn't too smarmy) here is a relevant little tid-bit of information. It is illegal in countries such as Turkey and Lebanon (Muslim majority countries for Christ's sake; sorry I don't want to be blasphemous, Allah's sake) to sport such garb in public establishments due to the legal implications. For some reason, which I think may be attributable to excessive coddling during childhood and a willingness to believe absolutely anything that tugs on one's heartstrings, a large portion of Western youth still petition to the contrary. Not convinced? I'll try another, in a similar vein.

As I scoured the Instagram search page, I came across an image that depicted two scarfed women locked in a romantic embrace, and read "Who said Muslim girls can't be gay?!". I assure you, my first quarrel is with the grammar of that question, not with the sentiment behind it. The interrogative pronoun is misleading. It is not who, but what. If there were less of an emphasis on how the personal can become the political, and more on the texts from which the prohibition came, we might be able to shed some light on an otherwise Stygian issue. The Quran and equally respected Hadith specifically forbid homosexual activity; as long as these screeds are in circulation and are treated with any political influence (understatement of the year award), you madam, can't be gay. That is not remotely a reflection of my position on these matters, but rather another reason for my contempt. Know your enemy, and you can save not only precious time, but energy and ammunition.

To sum up, stop being so damn emo!

Yours truly, a guy with a need for screed

On Over-stimulation: Why the Human Attention Span is Dissipating

A Tale of Commitment & Duty

 As I speak, I am exhibiting the exact dangerous habits that I want to address. Quarreling with myself over how I wish to pass the time prior to hitting the hay, and considering the myriad of options I have to entertain myself in the meantime. I hold in my possession over 300 Penguin Classics titles, 30 of which I have begun reading, and none of which I have completed. It is patently obvious that my inability to fixate on and work through one narrative is related to a lack of patience, and perhaps even entitlement. This extends to my insatiable hunger for knowledge via the online medium, and how I cannot get through a single YouTube video without being enticed by 13 other adjacent thumbnails. They are distractions, deterrents, and pesky advertisements that disallow and neutralize focus. If you can at all relate to these mannerisms, then I would imagine you too would like to alleviate the tension and pressure. Seeing as I (like many others) watch a variety of videos on different topics, (Religion, Atheism, Gaming, Dermatology, Philosophy, Comics, Neurology, Physics etc.) I already have a difficult time selecting the first video I would like to watch. Different suggestions and recommendations draw my attention and provoke thought and wonder, inducing both joy and fear. The mirth is derived from the sheer beauty that comes along with learning, while fear is begotten from the daily recognition of my extreme ignorance. A classic clash and war between pride and humility, and the ensuing spoils that never fail to amaze and intimidate. However, amidst this fray's casualties resides a noble characteristic, torn down in its prime - concentration. It would already be an arduous task to demand a human being at this day and age to absorb all the content of one video, let alone to do so while constantly switching subject matter. Add that to the facility and haste with which one can alternate topics, and therein is a monumental problem. Sounds a bit like immediate satisfaction, or...something along those lines.

However, as opposed to reiterating the same case I have previously made regarding ease of access, I would like to discuss the obverse of the coin; the overwhelming amount of information I have at my disposal, and how human capacity is far too limited to manage it. I begin to feel flustered, overwhelmed, and quite frankly annoyed with how much there is to receive. I then flounder in my thought processes, forgetting how I said I was going to navigate the internet and accomplish my tasks. I would dare say that I have just described the symptoms experienced by a hefty portion of us; the only distinction exists within how we cope with them.

Now, I am quite aware that this phenomenon cannot simply be reduced to ineffable experience, because there more than likely is a cogent scientific and neurological argument to explain it. I recognize that there have been studies supporting the emission and fulmination of the dopamine chemical during satisfying social media exchanges, and how this experience is so addictive that its affects on the body resemble the high produced by cocaine. Albeit on a much smaller scale, of course. I have not researched what chemical reaction occurs during the frustration of over-stimulation, but I would conjecture that it may involve a cortisol release - a natural fluid triggered by excessive stress. Needless to say, I am making a layman's uneducated estimation here, and no one should take my guesswork too seriously. 

Herein lies the unfortunate consequence - our attention spans are declining rapidly. This behavior and physiological response to the virtual world is carrying over to the physical and the natural, making us out to be indecisive emotional wrecks. This will not do. Yet nature is indifferent to our grievances and suffering in this way, and will force us to adapt or perish. If like myself you do not wish to have your condition exacerbated so far before change is inevitably enabled, I have some ideas. Aside from the painfully obvious advice to monitor one's screen time and to prioritize, rather than to procrastinate and lollygag, I think another answer presupposes it. If you are anything like myself, your insatiable desire to retain and accrue knowledge can be debilitating. You constantly are reminded of how much you are completely unaware of, and how there is a subject in which you need to brush up your skills or familiarize yourself with from scratch. Be that as it may, it would be irresponsible to capitulate to this attitude or even to consider it to be innately entirely positive. My first meditative maxim (an entry for another time) proposes that one should always suspect and inspect one's own motives - and that no endeavor is exempt. Why do I have this affinity for information retention? Is it simply because I wish to improve myself by being better acquainted with the world around me, or is there a trace of vanity and insecurity incorporated? In short, am I afraid of looking silly, and just trying to impress somebody at a dinner party? I humbly submit that this is the case. I find within myself a deep-seeded insecurity about my own intellect, and how others will perceive my intelligence and personality in general. One does not have to abandon their intellectual pursuits because of this admission, they simply have to be aware of it as a possible influence behind their intentions. Upon having done so, I feel a sense of relief. It is not my job to have expertise in every single facet of academia, and it is extremely presumptuous for me to have thought that I could. In other words, get over yourself and try not to maintain such a high opinion of your abilities. I feel compelled to add how boring and tiresome it would become if someone were even nigh omniscient, for that would mark the end of the journey. The only phenomenon that currently possesses that power is death - a concern which is far too distant to warrant personal preoccupation. 

In essence, education should not be a chore with which one is burdened - especially after the completion of their degree. If one approaches it with this mindset, the beautiful process of enlightenment becomes an instrument of torture and coercion. Despite the subject matter (YouTube videos on make-up tutorials, leisure reading, academic assessments, etc.), one must first reckon with their human capacity, and not overestimate their own value. I used to take the phrase "Do what you can, you're only human!" as something meant to be flattering and a profession of approval and awe from my interlocutor. I now see that this is just as much a criticism as it is consolation. There is more hope and happiness to be drawn from immersion in fewer responsibilities, than there is in simultaneously managing an overabundance of them. The effort is more honorable as well - and I will expand upon that later. 

Then again, if you managed to reach the end of this screed, perhaps you're not as badly off as you once believed.

Yours truly, a primate who stopped writing this a quarter of the way through because he was distracted by videos of Hitchens' diatribe against Bill Clinton's presidency.

Thoughts on Imprudence and Laziness: The Technological Era and its Implications

The Evils of Instant Gratification and its Triumph over the Virtue of Patience

Any millennial (a stupid word I unfortunately have to use to describe opaque generation borderlines) will tell you about the convenience, utility, and versatility of their technological devices. I am not an exception to this trend, yet I believe I am starting to see through the thin veil of false superiority that screen time offers us. Yet again, my comrades would be more than happy to utter the same - somewhat disingenuously with insincere modesty. Time and time again, we find ourselves engaging the heavier end of the spectrum in social discourse (in the very least, my friend group can sympathize and attest to this), delving into economic and political aspects of the current zeitgeist. Inevitably, the actual discourse reaches the point of exhaustion, and needless self-depreciation ensues. We take turns identifying our own vices, insecurities, and shortcomings, and tacitly approve of each other's nauseating behavior. We sheepishly propose different methods and actions that would enable us to improve, and potentially even rid ourselves of our deepest transgressions. Yet, one can see by the sheer frequency with which I have described the occurrence of said discussion, that no one really ever ventures a good old-fashioned try. No one ever broaches this part of the equation (or lack there-of); the willingness to acknowledge and introspect is enough, that is where the true magnanimity resides, we say. Nonsense in its purest form. Here is my inept attempt at making an analogy to a discipline in which I have never been too successful or intuitive (cue excessive self-deprecation). In order to render an additional equation, one must derive the sum, it is insufficient and pointless to keep reiterating the added numbers. However, unlike the somewhat instantaneous results of a simple math question, self-improvement and the resistance of immobility are not so swiftly performed. Not to produce adequate and honest changes, anyway. This task seems Herculean enough, but is even more daunting if one has never had to truly cultivate and nourish a real virtue - in this case, patience. 

The desire for and provision of immediate satisfaction are rife in Western culture, and have given us a false depiction of the intensity of navigating reality. Instant gratification yields immediate solution and relief, meaning any problem or inconvenience that arises must be hastily discarded, or that any endeavor's abandonment is justified, should it not be soluble within a brief period of time. This belief extends to and poisons the workforce, where I have neglected or abandoned projects since the standard for commitment and effort won't fulminate results to goad my interest or time. This sheds light on another pertinent subject - love. Impatience speaks volumes about the nature of our romantic escapades (I am sorry to sully romance in that tone of voice) and their frivolities. Once again, this is something of which I am guilty, because I have also lost interest early if I do not attain what I want promptly. I have even relinquished relationships simply because I had achieved my insipid ambitions, and needed a new sense of excitement. Somewhat utilitarian and insensitive, one might be inclined to say. Ironically, every new opportunity transpired in almost exactly the same way. If I had surpassed my previously shameful record in relationship duration, I may have actually experienced novelty - depth is not experienced by repeated immersion in the shallow. A fact all too plain in the immaculate vision of hindsight. An example of wisdom via experience, if you buy into that sort of thing. 

These examples elucidate one clear point - that by and large, patience is a rare and arcane commodity today. A moderation of entitlement and abjection is what is needed - simply put, a modest confidence. Although I cannot easily denote and proffer the instructions or recipe to recover this lost art, I am sure that more interfacing and human contact cannot hurt. 

I solemnly vow to reduce the technological influence in my life, and enjoy unfettered humane investigations of the natural world - without the overwhelming burden of excessive and contemporaneous online stimuli. Perhaps in doing so, this primate may enhance his quality of life.

To the best status that a close relative of the chimpanzee can, of course.

Yours truly, another hypocrite