Over the hills and far away...

That is a wonderful song. Obviously a Nightwish song, for those of you who are not into symphonic metal. Quite an interesting genre, definitely one of Nightwish's better pieces. Anyway, this is not the topic with which I want to bother you with today. I have quite an abundance of knowledge to dispense henceforth, for I have desired to blog for some days now, but have been otherwise occupied or unable to do so. Mostly this is due to homework, or on occasion this beautiful girl that I know who requires frequent attention, and who's absolute beauty and charming personality I can not help but give that which she requires. Yeah.

So anyway. On to more important matters, for the time being. I would like to briefly mention that I am indeed writing again. Coincidentally, or possibly not - depending on what you believe, it coincides with my reading again. And my language, both talking and writing, has picked up as well, again linked somehow to my reading. I think the language is in its turn linked to the reading of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. And later I will have a quote from that novel to further prove a point I wish to make amongst my rantings. As for the general writing, I believe that is linked to the rereading of Dune by Frank Herbert, which I actually have not picked up in several days due to my own writing and the stressful pressures of homework.

I must catch up and stay ahead of my homework for I am soon to be in possession of a job, which will require lots of labourous hours from me. But the advantage will be that I will have money and then can save up for those items which I mentioned in a previous blog.

However, I digress. I guess I don't need WoW (World of Warcraft), or anything else related to video games. I do relish in the fact that I have again picked up on MTG (Magic: The Gathering), but I don't need that either. All I need is the company of a good book, and my own writings. I think what is so special about Jane Eyre is that it is so remarkably simple. An essay by Virginia Woolf on the novels of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë and Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, simplifies this for me. Woolf states that in her opinion these two women writers are poets, not novelists, however they both attempted to write novels. This fact engenders a simple minded story. Now I mean this in no offensive way, quite the contrary I enjoy this aspect. These novels are very poetic in language, actually often using nature to lend themselves to descriptions of many things. This simple aspect, this elementary nature of characters and problems, does not require vast amounts of attention to over analysis of human nature or human problems. Conflict and resolution rise and fall in the most "mundane" of ways, but in fact are the most realistic and natural of all. The story is not over laden in masculine need to over think every situation. It is so nice to be able to read, and enjoy, an assigned work. Even though the language is still taxing and complicated, it is because it is rich with poetic details and vivid imagery. It is so nice to be able to take this work and understand its undercurrents because of its simplicity.

Some may recall that I am a person of pronounced simplicity. There are those who disagree, and say that I have depth and that depth is complicated. But I say that true depth is simple. I say this because so many read too deep into things. I care about the emotions presented on the surface, the initial reactions, not that which requires deep thought and great education. I don't care if one can pull out references to this and that great work of mass obscurity to the general public. I care to reach the masses with references that everyone know, which is not to say that I want to mass produce crap or that I want to use only pop culture references, but I want to strike deep into the cord of the middle class man, which in my view is still a very uneducated class. It is filled with those who do not try, who do not succeed, who are oppressed, who use excuses as the crutch of existence, and it is these whom I value above all others in the world.

So as you can see this novel has had a profound effect on my thinking. It really makes me think about all the praise I got in HS about my poetry. Up until this point I took slight offense to such statements, for I wish to write prose. However, these new thoughts, and in particular Jane Eyre and Charlotte Brontë have given me new cause to rejoice. I can indeed write my prose, and incorporate the poetic language, and be satisfied. I can write simply and effect the appropriate masses with my style.

And because I feel like quoting and further proving a point I have always cared to make, I will.

"'No; I know I should think well of myself; but that is not enough: if others don't love me, I would rather die than live - I cannot bear to be solitary and hated, Helen. Look here; to gain some real affection from you, or Miss Temple, or any other whom I truly love, I would willingly submit to have the bone of my arm broken, or to let a bull toss me, or to stand behind a kicking horse, and let it dash its hoof at my chest,' -
'Hush, Jane! you think too much of the love of human beings, you are too impulsive, too vehement: the sovereign hand that created your frame, and put life into it, has provided you with other resources than your feeble self, or than creatures feeble as you. Besides this earth, and besides the race of men, there is an invisible world and a kingdom of spirits: that world is round us, for it is everywhere; and those spirits watch us, for they are commissioned to guard us; and if we were dying in pain and shame, if scorn smote us on all sides, and hatred crushed us, angels see our tortures, recognize our innocence (if innocent we be: as I know you are of this charge which Mr. Brocklehurst has weakly and pompously repeated at second-hand from Mrs. Reed; for I read a sincere nature in your ardent eyes and on your clear front), and God waits only the separation of spirit from flesh to crown use with a full reward. Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness - to glory?'"

Now I must discourse some wild accusations first. I am not saying that I require the love of mankind to make me happy. No I am not partial to the ways and teachings of Jesus and God. Both of these things are mentioned here, but I take a different stand, and my message is somewhere buried here. I would gladly sacrifice body and mind for others. I also believe that requiring happiness to be based on the fleeting whims of mankind is an artifice of the worse kind. It brings the greatest beings to their knees, as seen in this scene of Jane Eyre. I believe that one should rely on oneself and what one believes in for happiness and only use mankind as a way of sharing that happiness with others. I will not lie and say I do not get depressed and that I do not require the advice and solace of friends and companions, but I also maintain that my solitude is important and can make me equally as happy in a dire situation. It is a good balance of knowledge and beliefs, and it shocks me to see how many falter in this capacity, even some of the most pious.

Now to bring this rather lengthy rant to a close, I would like to mention some things which also occupied my mind after a discussion in my other Literature class. Taking into consideration some of the beliefs of Gilgamesh my teacher dispensed knowledge like a fountain. He is quite a remarkable guy, but one thing in Tuesday's class stood out. It made me think of a phrase I have often found myself repeating, not only to myself, but to my father: It is not about the money. I have maintained my position and found it a struggle against my fathers, to say that I do not attend school for the money. I do not choose CCNE for its price, neither cheap nor expensive, nor do I attend an art school with the illusion that I will make money. I do not over burden myself with options so as to make sure that I can come out of college with a steady possibility of monetary earnings. There will be plenty of time to return to school, or pick up one or two classes here or there to fulfill any future desire for education. For that is why I am truly here: learning. I wish to learn. I wish to tap into fountains and other forms of dispersion of knowledge. I would take everything I can from this college. While I am here I will not seclude myself to my major, I will take advantage of every opportunity.

But opportunities may not lead to a steady income at a later part of my life. And I do not fear this. I still do not make my decisions based on money. I will not succumb to that which has corrupted and ruined many a great part of society. I know money is necessary to live, but in reality it is also not necessary to live. Doing what I love to do and what will make me happy is the only thing that is necessary to live. I know money is necessary to support a family and to support expensive items and luxuries. But those things are not needed. And if at some point I do require those things, I will make the decision when I get there. For if I have indeed amassed as much knowledge as I can, I will present myself with enough opportunity and skill and resources to find a way to manage enough money to make ends meet and provide for luxury and family. So no father, it is not about the money. It never was, and never will be. It is about learning. It is about filling my brain with all the information this world can offer. It is about one day instilling that into a form which future generations will hopefully appreciate. And that is what I shall endeavor to do.

Thanks for reading, as always. I hope this wasn't too much, or overly cute for those whom these statements apply.