April 1, 2004


  • Ariel:  We have free will.


    Caliban:  Can you prove it?


    Ariel:  If we do not have free will, then this debate and all our future debates are futile.


    Caliban:  That is no proof.  God may be cruel.  Maybe we are predetermined to examine the nature of our existence, even though we do not have one iota of choice.


    Ariel:  I offer no proof.  I offer only a Pascal’s Wager type of argument.  Our debates are more fruitful if we assume it is the debate between two separate beings, instead of two puppets acting out a predetermined script.


    Caliban:  Or maybe we are two sides of god’s being.  We are his internal dialect, acting out his opposite nature.


    Ariel:  If god exists, I hope he is the one entity in this universe that has enough answers so that no internal dialects are necessary.


    Caliban:  You were meant to say that. 


  • ‘Farewell, Aragorn! Go to Minas Tirith and save my people! I have failed.’


    ‘No!’ said Aragorn, taking his hand and kissing his brow. ‘You have conquered. Few have gained such a victory. Be at peace! Minas Tirith shall not fall!’


    Boromir smiled.


    ‘Which way did they go? Was Frodo there?’ said Aragorn.


    But Boromir did not speak again.


    Boromir is by far my favorite character in Lord of the Rings.  If I were given the responsibility of protecting my people, I would try to take the ring from Frodo as well.  God (or fate), if she exists, has not given me any indication that she is actively involved in the business of saving mankind.  I can only trust my own two hands.  Power corrupts?  Yes.  But it is better to have it than not. 


    Be not the wolf or the sheep, but the shepherd.


     


  • *LOTR spoilers*


    “Behold! upon the foremost ship a great standard broke, and the wind displayed it as she turned towards the Harlond. There flowered a WhiteTree, and that was for Gondor; but Seven Stars were about it, and a high crown above it, the signs of Elendil that no lord had borne for years beyond count. And the stars flamed in the sunlight, for they were wrought of gems by Arwen daughter of Elrond; and the crown was bright in the morning, for it was wrought of mithril and gold.


    Thus came Aragorn son a Arathorn, Elessar, Isildur’s heir, out of the Paths of the Dead, borne upon a wind from the Sea to the kingdom of Gondor; and the mirth of the Rohirrim was a torrent of laughter and a flashing of swords, and the joy and wonder of the City was a music of trumpets and a ringing of bells.”


    This passage from The Return of the King is the most exciting bit of fiction I have ever read (yes, even more exciting than Henry Miller and Anis Nin).  I literally jumped out my seat when I read this.  No, I’m not an idiot.  Of course I know Aragorn will make it in time to save Gondor.  But the manner of his return was a surprise, and it was nice to see that Arwen was good for something after all. 


  • “Only the mother tree remained in the middle of the clearing, bathed in light, heavy with fruit, festooned with blossoms, a perpetual celebrant of the ancient mystery of life.”  – OSC, Children of the Mind



    “The difference between raman and varelse is not in the creature judged, but in the creature judging.  When we declare an alien species to be raman, it does not mean that they have passed a threshold of moral maturity.  It means that we have.”  – Demosthenes (OSC), Letter to the Framlings.

    These two quotes sum up my mission on Xanga.  Blogs are often an exercise in vanity, true.  But they are also a celebration of life, an outcry into the void, seeking understanding without judgment, attention without responsibility.  I am willing to endure ((((hugs)))), blogs pinker than a Victoria’s Secret store, and deliberate spelling mistakes (wuz up peeps?) to partake in this philotic twining.