2013 Highlights – Book selection, #1

As I promised on Twitter (and in private, to myself), this is it, one new post to delight you all!

2013 has been a full year for me, so full that I have barely managed to reach my goal of 100 books (which you can check out here). Now, I don’t consider it a shame in general to not read a certain number of books because frankly not all of us have the dedication or the time to achieve that. It’s mostly that I feel I could’ve read more. Actually, I know I could’ve read more. I’ve slacked off and stopped reading for like two months of my summer. How ironic is that? I stopped reading during my school break, because I didn’t have enough time for it! That is why I consider this year, from a literature point of view, a bit lost.

However, I have managed to read more good books (classics, by all continents) than I have ever read. This happened because having so little time to read, I picked mostly books that mattered, so as not to spend time (I won’t say lose time because I am a firm believer you never lose time when you read) on works that didn’t matter for my culture.

The books are not ordered randomly, but in the sequence in which I read them, starting with the beginning of the year and ending about a week ago. I didn’t plan for it, but when browsing through my Goodreads records for them, I picked exactly 10 without noticing it in the beginning.

So, here we go! Top 10 books read in 2013 are…

1. 1984 – George Orwell

Read from 8 to 11 of January 2013

Original thoughts as found in my review on GR:

1984 is pure, cruel imagery. I don’t know if it’s just because of my imagination or I’m the only one who felt this, but it’s a powerful book not just in terms of “what-could-be”, but also in terms of “what-is”. Not just “what-ifs”, but more like coming to terms with the fact that some of those “what-ifs” are already here.

I’m not saying our world is 1984esque. But it’s not that far either. It’s already started on that slope and if we start going faster and faster, who can guarantee we won’t end up like that?

Along the book, I met tons and tons of greatly written lines, of thoughts that were also mine, but in different shapes. As Allan Bennett says in one of his plays, “The History Boys”: “The best moments in reading are when you come across something – a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things – which you had thought special and particular to you. And now, here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out, and taken yours.”

Now:

So, I was pretty impressed. It scored a 5 star rating from me with a standing ovation. Now, almost a year after finishing it, I still remember the plot and the force of the character and just how complex the writing is. Sometimes books like these lack in good writing, even if the subject is worth writing for. Orwell doesn’t do that. He is a perfect photographer of human emotions and thoughts and how we react to stimuli under different circumstances.

One of the classics that deserve this title, a powerful story of deceit and fear, and a clear incursion into the human mind.

Quotes I liked

Talking to her, he realized how easy it was to present an appearance of orthodoxy while having no grasp whatever of what orthodoxy meant. In a way, the world-view of the Party imposed itself most successfully on people incapable of understanding it. They could be made to accept the most flagrant violations of reality, because they never fully grasped the enormity of what was demanded of them, and were not sufficiently interested in public events to notice what was happening. By lack of understanding  they remained sane. They simply swallowed everything, and what they swallowed did them no harm, because it left no residue behind, just as a grain of corn will pass undigested through the body of a bird.

Power is not a means; it is an end. One does not establish a dictatorship in order to safeguard a revolution; one makes the revolution in order to establish the dictatorship. The object of persecution is persecution. The object of torture is torture. The object of power is power.

He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past.

The best books… are those that tell you what you know already.

To die hating them, that was freedom.

2. Delusions of Grandeur – Jason Najum

Read from 21 to 24 of January 2013

Original thoughts as found in my review on GR:

Yeah, we have them. These delusions, these unstoppable thoughts about our world, the one we inhabit without a permit, oh yes, we know all the facts. But then comes a man that decides to write about this, to write the truth. And, what’s even better about this, he does so in our time. This book wasn’t written 50 years ago, when Kerouac was telling the truth. This book isn’t created in the times of liberation. It’s actually created when we are becoming more and more sure of our imprisonment. Jason Najum kind of reminds me of Palahniuk. Palahniuk is a phenomenal writer, but he goes a lot on the dark side, he chooses to gross people out and remind them of the beasts they are, acting like they are not. Kind of like gorillas dressed in ballerina gowns. Najum doesn’t go there. He keeps it positive, he keeps it calm and decent and still delivers the same ideas: it’s time for a fuckin’ change.

Now:

I remember how I took up this book. The author direct messaged me on Goodreads to ask if I would be available to review his work and I of course said yes. I don’t say yes to everyone who asks me that (and, shamefully, sometimes I say yes but don’t come through due to lack of time), but I liked Jason and I thought why not give it a go.

I didn’t expect it to be this good. Honestly. I thought I would read it and maybe review it at 2.5 or 3 stars and that would be it. But I was instantly hooked and finished it pretty quickly.

For a debut book, by an unknown name in the industry, this was well written. Sure it has flaws and sometimes you can feel it’s been written by a novice but it has “heart” and a lot of substance to begin with. Well deserved 4 star rating from me!

Quotes I liked

I too have a secret identity. I too burn with an innate belief that I am meant for something more, for something big and beautiful. But I stop there. That is as far as I’ll go with the comparison. Because no matter how epic I wish my story was, no matter how much I suffer and struggle and hope, I know that Superman was not this much of a pussy.

Peel the layers off until you get to its core. And you will find us. We live and suffer in a world of our own creation. The systems that cause so much harm are built by our hands. The structures that confine us sit on foundations that we have laid. The corrupt political systems, the greedy corporations, the empty culture, the wasted lives. All of it made of people, by people. Almost any part of our misery can be reduced down to us. Choose something, anything, and if you reduce it down far enough you will find us sitting there, blood on our hands and dumb looks on our faces.

3. When We Were Orphans – Kazuo Ishiguro

Read from January 27 to 28.

Original thoughts as found in my review on GR:

And seriously, after I left it on the little table next to my bed and went to sleep, I felt good. And it’s when books manage to leave me with this sort of feeling that I know it was awesome.

From my perspective, the main character was wonderfully crafted. His flaws, his qualities, his laugh, his lines, his thoughts, his story were all so well integrated in his image that I had trouble realizing I don’t actually know this man, when I started comparing him to people!

In search of his parents, Christopher realized he never left the childhood period and is only now beginning to peek a different way of thinking. As a detective, you’d expect him to be extremely evolved on all fields, but turns out he missed on a couple of things from when he was a kid. And those couple of things were his own parents.

Now:

This was my first Ishiguro book and I became a junkie for his work. He writes poetry. His lines are perfectly balanced. His syntax is just flawless. He comes through as an amazing artist, playing with different wording styles and giving off emotion through every page. It’s one of the few works in the last 20 years that speak loudly to the public and demand their attention.

It was a 4.5 star rating on GR but a perfect read in general.

Quotes I liked

Perhaps there are those who are able to go about their lives unfettered by such concerns. But for those like us, our fate is to face the world as orphans, chasing through long years the shadows of vanished parents. There is nothing for it but to try and see through our missions to the end, as best we can, for until we do so, we will be permitted no calm.

It’s all right. I’m not upset. After all, they were just things. When you’ve lost your mother and your father, you can’t care so much about things, can you?

4. Brave New World – Alduos Huxley.

Read from February 17 to 18

Original thoughts as found in my GR review:

How is it that in the case of some authors, like Huxley, I can take one book of theirs, read it, hate it, and I can then read another of their works and love it? Aldous Huxley is a good example for that. I hated Point Counter Point, but I loved Brave New World. How come!? I can’t explain it..

Kind of like that famous quote: bread and circuses, that’s what you give them in order to maintain the low level of understanding. As long as they are fed and entertained, their bellies full and their minds blank.. they’re fine. You’re fine. Everything is fine.

Now:

This book I loved so much that I reviewed for my History class. It’s the opposite of 1984, if you will. While in 1984 the population if controlled by a repressive and demanding dictatorship, here you have none of that. The people are happy. They don’t need anything, they have no cravings, their wishes are constantly fulfilled by the drug they are given, the soma, and their fighting abilities are inhibited with the use of happiness. It really is the perfect system. Their minds are so empty that they are incapable of revolting. Not out of fear, as in Orwell’s book, but out of commodity. That is way scarier than any other totalitarian system.

Quotes I liked:

“All right then,” said the savage defiantly, I’m claiming the right to be unhappy.”
“Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat, the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen tomorrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind.”
There was a long silence.
“I claim them all,” said the Savage at last.”

…most men and women will grow up to love their servitude and will never dream of revolution.

5. The Magus – John Fowles

Read from January 4 to February 24

Original thoughts as found in my GR review:

How I got to get this book? At my friend’s house, I was, as usually looking through her library when I saw this big, fat, fluffy book with a big title, “The Magus” (though in Romanian it’s different), by John Fowles. Evidently, my eyes sparkled as they do at anything longer than 500 pages that seems serious enough for me to read, as I love long stories; the longer they are, if it’s well written, the better for me. And my friend, Ana, told me that “oh yeah, I didn’t read that, but it’s my mother’s favorite!” And I thought “hmm.. Long book, seems to be serious, and it’s her mother’s favorite”. Yep, I wanted it.

The characters. I really liked all of them. This rarely happens for me, to like every character and to feel that they are there with a purpose and that if one wouldn’t exist, everything would be dull.

Now:

It’s really nice letting a masterpiece like this settle into your soul. It’s only when you remember random stuff from the book by just looking at its title that you know you loved it. John Fowles writes complicatedly, but this intricate syntax was not enough to scare me. It’s a pleasure to decipher what he wanted to say, what’s the motivation behind this dialogue, or that description or this interior monologue. I find it hard to understand why people didn’t like this book as it has qualities that make it both commercial and off-marketed.. But then again, I can’t criticize people’s tastes in literature for that is not my job.

Quotes I liked:

“The human race is unimportant. It is the self that must not be betrayed.” “I suppose one could say that Hitler didn’t betray his self.” “You are right. He did not. But millions of Germans did betray their selves. That was the tragedy. Not that one man had the courage to be evil. But that millions had not the courage to be good.”

“I acquired expensive habits and affected manners. I got a third-class degree and a first-class illusion: that I was a poet. But nothing could have been less poetic that my seeing-through-all boredom with life in general and with making a living in particular. I was too green to know that all cynicism masks a failure to cope– an impotence, in short; and that to despise all effort is the greatest effort of all. But I did absorb a small dose of one permanently useful thing, Oxford’s greatest gift to civilized life: Socratic honesty. It showed me, very intermittently, that it is not enough to revolt against one’s past. One day I was outrageously bitter among some friends about the Army; back in my own rooms later it suddenly struck me that just because I said with impunity things that would have apoplexed my dead father, I was still no less under his influence. The truth was I was not a cynic by nature, only by revolt. I had got away from what I hated, but I hadn’t found where I loved, and so I pretended that there was nowhere to love. Handsomely equipped to fail, I went out into the world.”

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time

it’s hard to believe time flies. but it does. there’s really no better analogy for it than the fact that it “flies” – time finds its freedom and we die caged, without it.

i think that is the most important currency we’ve been given to trade on this earth – time. it weighs infinite more than its weight in gold, and it’s a bitter coin, one which tastes like rotten hope. you can give time away, but never get it back. it’s a no loan situation, where even if you wanted to, you don’t want to let it go.

and the weirdest things about it is that we realize its importance too late. it makes us confused: first, we have all the time in the world, then they tell us it’s not exactly like that, than they tell us time isn’t a human’s tool, and then suddenly we have no more of it left.

so this currency.. use it wisely. buy only the friends that you need and the happiness you know you can get. greed not over other unimportant goods, for those come along once you have the first two.

and be careful. because one day, you might want to purchase another thing and realize the wallet of your life is empty..

don’t lose it. don’t lend it. and don’t spend it foolishly.

just thoughts

how is it that we are so afraid of change and yet crave for it so badly? is it inside of us, to make ourselves suffer through this type of thinking? why do we lust and reject at the same time? are we.. wrong, in some way? need we be fixed?

or is it that which defines us, the need to hurt ourselves in order to achieve happiness?

we’re not complicated. we just haven’t given ourselves enough time. after all, we’re new to this world. we’re just babies, just born, still covered in our mother’s blood, screaming and crying after that first hurtful breath of air that will unplug our lungs.

mindless creature that we are.

so much knowledge in us, so much opportunity humanity has but..

we’re so young.

so, so young.

Lusting

I somehow got to thinking about lust.

What is lust? Well..

1. Intense or unrestrained sexual craving.

2. a. An overwhelming desire or craving: a lust for power.

b. Intense eagerness or enthusiasm: a lust for life.

3. Obsolete Pleasure; relish.

intr.v. lust·ed, lust·ing, lusts
To have an intense or obsessive desire, especially one that is sexual.

After this description, we can clearly say it’s a specifically human emotion. Animals aren’t capable of “lust” because for them life is a chain of events that help them evolve in a momentary way and satisfy a “young” need in every one of them. You could say the instant gratification an animal needs is keeping them from being able to feel “lust”. In a human, lusting happens after the thinking process enters the stage. You have to think about the object of your desire and imagine scenarios that imply it in order for it to become a constant and somehow involuntary process in your mind.

The first meaning of the word that comes to mind is understood in a sexual way. When you lust for someone, you are clearly referring to the kinky stuff. You won’t lust (or won’t lust too much) for someone’s eyes or feelings; you think about their bodies and what you could do with them. The sexual element is implied – therefore, you can be ashamed of lusting after someone. But isn’t it normal? Isn’t it a factual banality, craving for one’s body? Isn’t it more instinctual for a human being to observe and dream about a physical contact rather than an intellectual one? I think so. We live in a physical world and when we meet with someone, the tangible, real thing about them is their body, whilst their mind is enclaved and present only through the eyes and words. Statistically, it’s a very small chance that someone would first observe the mind, and then the package.

So, body lust is a normal thing. Now, what has modern society done so that it became a bit of a tabu thing? It educated its members and constrained them into the idea of shame. It is, in many situations, a shameful thing to say – that you lust for someone. Society has tried to strangle the sexual content of the human being, whilst at the same time trying to portray sexuality as a sort of a weapon to be used in order to attack or defend. Example: the media relies mainly on sexual content, so they “attack” the people that use it under different forms, with images of women and men in sexually explicit positions, with lyrics or movies that refer to it. They haven’t quite figured yet that you can’t take the sex out of humanity – we’re amongst the few species that can sustain intercourse outside of the reproductional circle – for the simple reason of liking it. How many dogs have you seen humping outside of their normal period? None. Because they don’t feel the need to – why? Well, it must be that they don’t find it a pleasurable act; for them, it’s no more than a need. We do like it. Humans are champions at sex. And that’s why lust is a big component in a man’s life – it kindles the fire for sexuality and sensuality.

Now, there is the other meaning of the word: intense eagerness or enthusiasm, as in “lust for life”. If death were to come upon you without you being prepared for it, you would fight for your life as strongly as you can and hold on to the last threads of it until you’re actually dead. Now, you might think you’re not going to be able to survive or that you’re not good at it, but when the time comes, and your life is in danger, the mind goes into “wild-mode”. After the initial shock, you can still go on. You can still think and reason and find solutions to your problems, whilst giving every ounce of strenght you’ve ever gotten to keep yourself breathing. This is lusting for life – you just don’t want to let go of it.

Lust isn’t in itself a bad thing. Be it sexual or connected to the simplest needs, in the right measure it’s just like another hormone that floats around in our bodies making us want to eat something or drink a soda or maybe stare blankly at a wall. In the wrong quantity, however, you’re never sure if it won’t do you harm.. or hurt the object of it.

So, can I.. just.. you know… have you?

Back to school…

It is the most dreadful moment of the year for a student.

The time of sadness, loss of liberty and sudden multiplication of rules.

It’s time for school.

In case you haven’t noticed, it’s September, which for many students means going back to studying. I don’t exactly know how it works in other countries, but my dear Romania has set the implosion date for the 16th, current month. It’s the 10th now, so these next 6 days every 7 to 19 year old takes as precious little freedom gems. With the note that high school students appreciate this more.

I am now entering my last year of high school. This is the sentence I have been repeating in my head for about a week now, thinking about the finality of it and how … musical it sounds. These are the most amazing 9 words I have heard in a long time. I am so happy this is the last year. I can’t stand high school no more.

It’s not that I don’t like the atmosphere or having my friends around me all the time. It’s the idea of powerlessness that this stage in life gives me. I know about the whole “enjoy life when you’re young and don’t wish for it to pass” thing. But no one ever tells you about how those years are spent waiting for something to happen. Myself, I’m not the kind to like waiting around. I like working and I love being the best at the things I choose to be the best at. And I can’t be satisfied with being good at school – it’s merely a stage, it’s a phase every kid must go through, so I’m not with anything special if I’m the first in my class or I won an award for something related to school work. So I am trying to enjoy these moments – I’m turning 18 this month so I’m treasuring these last days as a 17 year old. But I just can’t help the feeling – I want to move on.

This moving on, it means taking on the world. It means me going to another country and studying and learning to manage on my own. It implies work, sweat, tears, loneliness, time, energy, thought and in the end .. happiness. It’s what I want.

And I can’t get this in school. Meaningless activities done day by day in the presence of absent teachers who don’t give a damn about you, with a principal that believes reading is bad for you, with colleagues that don’t know how to write Hitler or where is Europe on the map, with the bustling a useless school makes around you. Not my kind of place.

This year, I decided it’s gonna change. I have my friends in my class – I care about them. The rest.. too bad. I have to get a perfect 10 this year, so I’ll work for it. I have to take my Bacalaureat diploma with over 9.70. So I’ll work for it. I have to get accepted at universities in England. So I will be. Anything else besides work and cementing my true friendships is in second place – irrelevant, I think.

That’s for me, though. That’s my mentality. But I look around and I peek at the kids there and I get scared for the future of my generation. There’s no hope to ever turn them into something good. There are so few that have passions and ambition to achieve something in life without spending their parents’ money on it, so few who believe they can make a change. They’re numb and empty and they fill these spaces with meaningless socializing and day by day they get dumber and dumber and dumber. I wish I could have hope for them. But I know better – I see it around me. These kids? They’re lost. And there’s no one who wants to bring them back, we’re just settling for the best we can have – a nation of empty minded, blabbering idiots who will fill our jobs and make this shithole even worse than it already is.

You think this country is corrupted? You think it’s dumb? Wait and watch what the brilliantly mentally damaged kids of the corrupt ones now will do in 50 years.

I try and talk sense into who I can, but no one listens. And there’s two reasons for that. One: I’m just a lonely voice in a sea of screams, and no one really hears me. Two: if you ever want to show something to teenagers, you need to have an army behind you, you need to make it trendy. If it’s not fashionable, they won’t wear it. Even if we’re talking about intelligence.

Does school try to do anything to change that? My personal experience.. no. It lost us just as we lost it some time ago. MY older friends tell me their school experience was just the same. A few days ago, a good friend told me what he did in school, when he was a student, and he told a teacher that Aristotle wrote something along the lines of: “I don’t understand students nowadays.. They show no respect to the elders and they learn nothing”. That was some thousands of years ago. So it’s reccurent, I get it. It comes back and it goes away and then by miracle finds another way to affect us. We aren’t really interested in learning. We kind of lie to ourselves that we care about education and that we’re so sooo elevated. We’re not. And we, teenagers, are the worst of it, because we are precisely at that age where “life will be good” and “I don’t give a fuck right now” have the same meaning and importance to us.

School sees that and decides to lie to itself too. The ministry of education? Run my illiterate people. High school principals? Let me not start on mine… He’s a dwarfy little guy with this stubbornly stupid vacant look in his eyes that relates on money to achieve anything in life and demands respect from a hoard of spineless invertebrates.. like the teenagers in our school. Teachers? There’s few of them that are worth the time. Few that come in the class with the want to TEACH someone something. Usually they just open some book written by someone else and start reading out of that, we’re supposed to write down and learn that and then pass a useless test that evaluates nothing more than our ability to cheat on it.

It’s school, folks. It ain’t no damn smart place.

So the entire system, from top to bottom and from bottom up, is just a big mess of a thing with no hope whatsoever to get at least half right.

Am I upset about that? Yes. Because I live in it.

That is why I want to get out. I’m hoping in a more civilized country (not by much, because all of us are animals), I’ll find better educated people, smarter systems and better lifestyle. This shithole does good for no one – actually it does bad.

How many kids began like normal, smart beings and became fucked up adults with a no meaning life because they went through this kind of school? How many? Think of a ratio, any ratio. There can be some of them, and maybe they would’ve been able to change something. But because they took the same pill we were all given, they’re brain dead.

In the end, how do I feel about going back to school? Good and bad. It’s fun, having your friends around for a few laughs, chatting with your good teachers because you’re becoming old enough for them to care about your opinion. It sucks, sitting through long, never ending hours of useless subjects you will never use and having to witness bad teaching over and over again hitting heads with brainless teenagers.

I’m not taking the pill. I’m keeping it under my tongue, I’m letting them check it empty, and them I’m spitting it out as soon as the authority turns their back. I’m not their tool. I’ll never be their tool.

Social Media

After I finished “Fangirling to the extreme – One Direction“, I started thinking about how the icons celebrities represent for us, the people at home, take a toll on how we view everything around us.

First of all, I feel like I have to make a clarification: many times I have met with the expression “we, the normal people”. I feel very awkward when that comes up. If they aren’t normal people, what are they, aliens? They’re just like you and me, just like your neighbour (if your neighbour is a creepy old man who likes smoking pipe and watching little kids play I deny everything I said). They eat food, they go dancing, they have cranky morning voices, sometimes they get bags under their eyes and open pores and what not.. and yes, they do go to the toilet. (Except Matt Damon, check this out! ) I refuse to believe they are different from me in these aspects – it’s just that they have a different platform to perform their job on. So, normal they are. Glad we settled that one out.

Now, going back to what I said: this is what celebrities do – they turn their life into a constant performance. It’s an act. They’re just as real, I’m not calling them fake. They love their families, they have feelings that can get hurt. But their efforts are towards a constant show – this is what we ask of them. We, the people at home, are the ones who turn celebrities into who they are because we’re the ones giving them attention. If the “icons” would just get attention from others in the same business, this whole movie-music-artistry thing would crash and burn. They need us, and in return we need them. Imagine how boring life would become without movies or music or concerts to go to. What would you do? Read all day long and listen to Beethoven when you jog? Do you imagine that as a better life than this one now? It’s not. There’s no diversity. Nowhere to choose from if your tastes are different.

Celebrities have to “be” someone, in the deepest meaning of the word. They have to “exist”. That’s what we read about in magazines and watch videos for. So we see their “existence”. We live our fantasies through them and open our minds to different ideas that way. We are dreamers through their movies, through their music. And we like them “up there”, on the imaginary pedestal they accepted, because humans have always needed the idea of “he’s better than me”, so they can aspire to it.

Now, this whole “celebrity” thing has turned into a franchise. It is not anymore the person alone, but the team behind it, the management schemes pulled off for the person itself. This is what’s sad about the life of a celebrity. They may just want to sing or act, but the moment they become succesful, they sign up for a whole other thing: press, interviews, photos, loss of privacy. When you are truly succesful in the domain, you have no life left. For a period, at least. Nothing is important forever and neither will they be, so at one point the fuss just goes away. But as long as they’re in the spotlight, it’s like they’ve given their acceptance.

So how do they get so succesful? How does someone become so big they need security guards when they go out for a nice stroll in the park? Which.. they don’t, because they’d need security guards.

The century before, this was harder. You had to either know someone, be someone already or become someone through luck, talent, ambition or all three options above. Now, it can be summarized in two words: social media.

It is the most powerful tool in 2013’s world.

No, seriously. If nuclear bombs wanted to destroy the world, they would need a Facebook Page for it, not an airplane. Hitler could’ve given his “kill them Jews” orders on his Twitter account, through a very cheeky tweet, and grammar Nazi’s would’ve probably attacked him. You don’t even need to ask about the Cold War – that could be easily won on Instagram.

Yes, it’s that bad. Presidents have Facebook now. Fuckin’ presidents.

And we’re okay with it. It, apparently, makes them more “human”, more reachable, we can relate to them more. The hell we can. How the fuck can you relate to Obama better if he has a Facebook page? He is the president of the USA and you’re a bussines accountant. Puhh-lease.

And it’s our making. It never would have gotten that big had we not chosen that. We wanted Facebook. And Twitter. And Instagram. And Flickr, and Pinterest, and Omegle. And websites. And this and that.

Now, I’m not saying this is a bad thing. It can be very much a good thing or a zero. But it can also do harm.

And this is where it comes to the harsh reality – the ones most affected by social media are always the young ones. Kids. Your kid.

He’s growing up, right? He’s what, like, 9? What does he do all day? Goes to school, maybe to some sports practice afterwards.. then lunch, because his mother made him pizza. And then.. he watches TV. He has a computer, because you decided he should get familiar with the Internet and all that. Oh, and a smartphone, because he pleaded and cried for weeks to get one, after he saw all his friends had one.  He picks that up and God knows what he does with it so much time, you don’t understand. All these weird-ass website names and all the socializing your kid does on Internet with his friends… You don’t understand why your kid doesn’t simply walk out the door, crosses the street and bangs on his best friend’s door and he chooses to Instant Message him.

You know what I did at 9 years old? I climbed a cherry tree in my bathing suit, until I reached the top, and I managed to fall from three m high on a carpet of nettles. In my bathing suit. And I rolled over. I fucking rolled over on the other side. I couldn’t move for hours and I cried so much because I was in pain. And then I laughed throughout my life of that moment – and I still do. You know what else I did at nine? Played tag. Hide and seek (more like hide and disappear for me). You know what I didn’t have at 9? A mobile phone. Or a computer. Sure, I had seen a computer and pressed a few keys here and there on that white thingie, but I didn’t know what that was.

I didn’t learn to read on an IPad, whilst checking my hundred long friend list on Facebook.

Yes, social media has this bad part. Some can tolerate it, and maybe even forget about the effects it has – but I can’t. I see it in my friends, in my class, on the street, in me. It takes advantage of human traits and inflicts damage back.

Celebrities have it worse than me, in my opinion. They are not only the cause of social media, but also their weapon. Without wishing it, they still are.  It’s what public opinion wanted and we are attacked by it. You’re not as smart as x? Shame on you! Not as thin as y! You are disgusting!

This is the ugly face of social media.

As I said, though, there’s a good part to it. We can help people – donations, awareness, aid in different matters, world spread of vital information. Its possibilities are infinite and it has potential to change. Unfortunately, we seem to need/want it in trivial matters and in no way use it to change things on a massive scale.

I’m just sayin’, there’ll come a day when an earthquake alarm will get to you through a Tweet.

Yes. We will get there.

 

Old fuck

There is one man I have been talking a lot about. I quote him all the time, I am an avid follower of his preachings on every website.

He is dead, but it doesn’t matter at all – after all, all the great people of our world are dead or dying.

Joking here, I’m not dying. Yet.

George Carlin would probably beat seven ghosts out of me if he saw this article, but fuck it. I love him.

He was a TV person, a comedian and over all, an extremelly inteligent, blunt and loud – mouthed man who wasn’t afraid to verbally express his dirties, filthiest and cruelest opinions. He spoke about important things – politics, the planet, human paradoxes, criminality, youngsters, science, history, anything, everything. And his jokes.. He makes you laugh and want to cry at the same time, because he tells you the truth and there’s nothing funnier or sadder than that.

This is his last show, before he died in 2008. It’s bad for ya!