Time's Museum

If every poem
Is just a metaphor
Then why do I bother
To indulge in rich thoughts
By creating them?
Because it cleanses the mind,
Sedates the passions,
Purifies wisdom,
Caresses completeness,
Paints a resilient picture
Against the erosion of memory
By time.

Geo-certified

  I just finished my self-selected curriculum in geography. The goal was to read textbooks about every facet of geography that interests me, so that I may be an actual master by my own standards. Along with finishing my academic master's, this completes a long journey I've been on for three or four years, researching every region of the globe, analyzing most geographic topics offered at university level. The books I completed in the last three days to round out the journey were:

 Dragons and Tigers: A Geography of South, East and Southeast Asia

 GIS Tutorial 3: Advanced Workbook

 World Geography 7: Antarctica, Australia, and the Pacific

 A detailed list of the curriculum can be found on my Goodreads empire, under the geography-travel shelf. I had similar goals with history (complete) and science (to complete by December). Accounting is the final one, but it is not interesting enough to keep me going, hah! Nonetheless I will probably do accounting for the rest of my career, unless a miracle happens.

Twin Paradox

 They who witnessed the ancient marriage
 Of science and religion
 Built the 12 houses of astrology,
 Reigning supreme over all faiths
 For hundreds of years.
 But gradually, the word of Augustine
 Endured a schism 

 Between faith and reason
 By positing the lives of twins
 Are often at odds,
 As Jacob's and Esau's had been.
 If two souls are born
 At the same time and place
 Yet lead vastly different lives,
 How can astrology be true?

 The missing ingredient, Karma,
 Paused the grand rotation,
 Exclaiming that forces beyond the stars
 Govern the fate of souls,
 But that souls given astral imprint
 Were thus influenced by cosmic motions.
 And the world kept turning
 As science and religion entwined
 After being at odds for centuries,
 Twins born from the same instinct
 Writing vastly different stories
 Only to share the same ending.

Selfishness vs. the Social Contract

    We cannot be entirely selfish beings. The true measure of selfishness is a three-fold set of variables: the grand total of the things we are selfish about, the degree to which we are selfish about them, and how significant they are. For example, being selfish about needing space on the bus is not as significant as being selfish by cutting people off driving at high speeds. If a sociologist were to list every single individual and their corresponding selfishness scores, each would have a composite score representing the totality of their selfishness. It would all be relative to the mean score, sort of like IQ (intelligence quotient).
    Weighing all possible measures of selfishness, most people are far more selfless than selfish. Most of us are aware of the things that bother others, and we do our best to be nice. The optimist in me clearly sees that all the selfless behaviors we make, including not acting on our impulses, or the first thought that comes to our heads, far outweighs the selfish ones. If everyone was a 100% selfish, without making any sacrifice for the greater good of society, we would be living in lawless anarchy. This is the social contract Roussea had written about three centuries ago. People are inherently unselfish enough to keep their communities running, but selfish enough at particular behaviors to make the appearance of being it.

Top 1000 Songs of the 1980s

   Below is my compilation of the top songs of the 1980s, based on popularity, cultural significance, landmark albums, play counts, and personal affections. Play counts derived from my profile at last.fm.

Ariel's Lament

 You saw him aboard the ship
 Playing a fife in some far-off fantasy
 Where he was the prince of your dreams,
 The man who could save you
 From all the pressures of the deep.
 You wanted to come on land, with him,
 To hear him play the music every day
 While you sang along, seducing
 The land to your aquatic arias,
 A siren's love at first sight.
 He danced around on the planks
 While your heart melted,
 Sending your mind to enchantment,
 Young love dripping from a violin's bow.
 You saw the future, saw marrying him,
 Fathering your child,
 Helping you through the crass world
 After your parents refused.
 You saw in his face what the boy's father
 Couldn't give you, a steady presence,
 A loyal provider, strong enough to care,
 A transformer of fins to legs.
 The passion stormed through you,
 Igniting your fiery hair,
 Burning through every truth
 That mocked your happy ending.
 A sea witch will steal your voice,
 A tragic monster living inside you
 Thwarting all the stability desired.

Curmudgeoned by Sanderson: The Stormlight Archive Conclusion

  This review is on book 5 Wind and Truth, midway between the entire series, which is supposed to be 10 books long.

 Journey before destination. Sure, if you can live that long. And buy more books full of overindulgent wankery like books 4-5 in The Stormlight Archive. I didn't invest in 7,000 pages of intriguing, strong characters to become consumed by their grief, to be trapped in their heads while a beautiful world falls apart. I love Sanderson when he isn't damning his creation to storm ash and transforming his heroes into patients for a PTSD group therapy session. Half the time it felt like I was reading Dalinar watch the History Channel, or Shallan confusing herself for a new persona, or Kaladin getting blown further off course by his nervous breakdown. The dude's arc went from unsung hero to the sidekick shrink of someone with even bigger issues, and as far away from the main action as possible. But hey, at least he can cook and play the flute now, right? Adolin seemed like the only one who kept his head straight, yet even he had chapters serving no other purpose than ruminating on self-doubt.

 Most of the book has no relation to the core series of events. It shifts POV so prolifically, and with so much inner dialogue riddled by impossible questions, that it meanders like a teenager's diary. Despite its flaws, even at page 1,200 it still had potential to be one of the greatest series ever written. But instead of concluding it simply like he did in the first two (more successful) books, Sanderson chose to make it even more complex, a la the George Martin syndrome, where the ending should be simple, but gets confounded by trying too hard to be unpredictable. There are twists that oddly kill off all that made the heroes of Roshar great, typically through resolving an unnecessary character arc, or by introducing some weird new magic trick to move things in a more convenient direction (there is a deus ex machina every 50 pages). I was so anxious from all the repetition and hype surrounding the Contest of Champions that I found myself begging for an old-fashioned resolution but got "Retribution" instead.

 The biggest surprise though was Sanderson's attempt to justify this utterly sad ending- which Wit calls brilliant- as if he needed some way of soothing his die-hard fans or keeping their mojo going for another five books. The payoff for sticking with this, if there is one, isn't worth it for me at this point in the series. The Stormlight Archive is so brilliant that it became a victim of its own success; full of fantastic ideas that are so drawn out that they ultimately fail to keep the reader interested, especially after a dismal pause in events.

8/7

 Now that some time has passed, I have come to appreciate more where this wild journey has taken me. There is a dark ending to this one, something he is not known for. I believe I've been a bit spoiled by him in that regard. In the long run it is no less of a shattering outcome than The Empire Strikes Back, Avatar: Earth, or Game of Thrones. Though I still believe these tragic arcs should have taken place much earlier in the series, it was wrong of me to think it has lost its place among the greats. So long as Kaladin is alive, there is still time for a real retribution. I also believe that by the uniting the shards, Odium will never be the same, for the power of honor will compel him to consider better options. Odium will now be torn between what's right and what's wrong, as indicated by his last thought in the book, the one where he realized Dalinar had torn down his philosophy. Though he has more power now, I'm not sold that he'll always use it for destruction. Plus, he needs to hide from the other shards since they've been alerted to his perversion. So at least the war is over, for now. But 90% of Roshar is still scorched and run by the Fused, and many of our friends could not reunite. Still a sad ending.

 The way I see it now, two individuals who are already very powerful effectively doubled their power: Taravangian, who doubled it with the power of honor, and Kaladin, who doubled it by becoming King of the Heralds. If Taravangian attacks, Kaladin is Roshar's only hope.