The Weight of a Lighter

They sat next to each other quietly. The wood that they both rested upon had cooled from contact with warm flesh that had affected it earlier. It was not to say that the surface was tainted. There was no such thing as that amongst the furniture of the room. Any touch was always shined away by the hand of cleaning, allowing no touch to become permanent of the physical sense. There might have been some that ingrained themselves into the physical being, but coming across one of them was rare. It was usually the sense of the object's soul where the imprints remained.
A lighter. It should have been an ordinary object. History has deemed otherwise with a judgmental hand, uncaring of what turbulence it had created with the action. It has sent it to the hands of a famous man, a powerful man. One who was given the ability to weave the destinies of many lives. This man had touched the lighter, carried it in his pocket. Such an importance it carried with the ability to light the end of cigars on fire.

There had been blood. That had left a physical mark on the surface. Such a small amount had drenched the essence of the lighter. The one moment had given it worth. It gave it a definite mark within history, not allowing its existence to be without such a thought attached. There was a meaning to it. So many humans had wanted possession of it. They had bought the unknown lies in the shopkeeper’s truths, each replica pure of all blood except for the one of belief. There was even a scratch that pretended to be part of history on each fake. The weight of imagination was a tricky sprite playing at the humans’ mind. Only one of the lighters had any real weight, pulled down by history’s timely murder.

That is, of course, if such a lighter had existed.

The two lighters in the hotel room sat in complete silence. There was no fake history to weight them down while there were no humans in the room.

(This is a piece that reflects back upon the lighter that WM was trying to make a case with. As I still have trouble believing that there was an original lighter in the first place, I treated both lighters as fake. It contemplates how the lighter supposedly got meaning and how all of the replicas have meaning to the person who owns them.)

This blogpost was meant to be posted late

Rachel and Sabrina stood outside of Bradford Auditorium.

Undecided, they were undecided.

Their friends tempted them to forget about schoolwork, to indulge in the freedom of Friday nights.

Sabrina voiced, “But we have a lot of work to do. Like that paper…”

Rachel nodded in agreement.

Their friends urged them to abandon their obligations.

Sabrina turned to Rachel and said, “If you leave, I’ll leave with you. If you stay, I guess I will too.”

“I don’t know what to do!” Rachel exclaimed.

“Let’s flip a coin,” Sabrina proposed. “You flip. Heads will be no.”

Rachel gave the coin a mighty flip, and it fell to the floor.

Sabrina bent down to observe the results. Abraham Lincoln stared back at her.

“It’s heads,” she announced. “I guess that means we’ll be working tonight.”
Rachel paused. Here came an idea.

“Or we could watch the movie.”

Sabrina objected, “Didn’t we say we would flip a coin?”

Rachel shrugged. “But remember what we spoke about in class about the I Ching?”

The two looked at the doors of the auditorium longingly.

THE CONCLUSION---a half-hearted haiku:

WHAT SHOULD WE HAVE DONE?

BURDEN OF DUTY AND FATE

FLIPPED COIN, WATCHED MOVIE.

Religion is the way

Let's look at the facts: In Cat's Cradle the San Lorenzans live in a lower class area faced with hardships, poverty, and unfair laws. Similarly in The Man in the High Castle people live in a society that is cruel and unjust, especially for people who are not of German, Italian or Japanese descent. What do the people turn to in each novel to help cope with their difficult and overbearing lives? They turn to religion. In the case of Bokonon it is different verses that explain how to deal with certain scenarios as with the I Ching it is a dependency on a sort of cosmic belief. Even though these are contrasting religions the basis of them is not so different. More importanly the impact they have on their followers is very much the same. People rely on their religion not when they are happy, bur more so when they are faced with hard times; when they are faced with despair. When one looks for guidance they can find the most comfort in the answers they are given from their respectful religion. Regarding the I Ching, its not always about getting the answer that makes you happy but simply getting an answer. When the characters in The Man in the High Castle pass the stalks from hand to hand they do so knowing the answer they receive may be far from they would like, but that does not stop them from completing their hexagram. The whole idea of the I Ching, along with Bokonon, is to satisfy the follower even if its not happy satisfaction that is in store for them. When in times of turmoil these practices are most important for the reason that people need more than physical objects to comfort them; they need a higher power to show them what may be in store. Even if the "predictions" one receives from the I Ching turn out to be completely false it still success in its purpose. When a person wants to believe in something it is extremely difficult to break them of their beliefs; in knowing that people who practice the I Ching, or Bokonon for that matter, do not care if they are steered astray it is merely the fact that they are being steered and not driving themselves.

Lies and Survival

Lies play an intricate (yet crucial) role within The Man in the High Castle. Although lies are embedded everywhere in the text, the introductions of each character present significant lies that largely effect their individual characterizations.

At the beginning of novel, the reader meets Robert Childan--the owner of American Artistic Handcrafts. Childan lies while he conducts business; he puts on a fake facade to greet customers and pretends to be interested in their lives and culture. In reality, Childan has resentment towards his buyers. Childan concealment of his ethnocentrism plays a large role in this story; when he shows the truthful pride for his culture and his people through defending Edfrank's Jewelry, the reader sees a change in Childan's attitudes towards this post-WWII world and his role in society.

The reader immediately learns that Frank Frink (Fink) is Jewish with his introduction. Frank's whole identity intertwined in one huge lie; in a post-axis-winning war, it is illegal to be Jewish. In order to survive, Frank must function with a new, fake identity. When his true identity is reveled, Frank's life is in serve jeopardy and the reader believes that he faces certain death. In this instance, one lie makes the difference between life and death.

Lies are also intertwined with the relationships of main characters. Specifically, Mr. Tagomi relationship with Mr. Baynes, another main character, is a complete lie. Although Mr. Tagomi believes Mr. Baynes to be a Swede business partner, Mr. Barnes in reality is a Jewish spy looking to communicate with the Japanese forces. Fostering this lying relationship means that the Japanese are prepared for a potential potent German attack--one that would shake the careful balance of power in this post-war world.

Juliana Frink's relationship with Joe, the driver, is an equally important lie. Joe conceals his true identity to take advantage of Juliana's appealing looks. In turn, Juliana is the key to Joe's plan to murder Hawthrone. When Joe's true identity is revealed, the plan is completely unraveled and ultimately leads to Joe's death.

Overall, all these lies speak volumes about life in a post-WWII distopia. For each character, lies are essential to survive. Whether lies are used to conduct business, push political agendas, or live in an un-accepting culture, deception helps to promote life rather than end it. Without these lies, we see each character’s life begin to change and in many times, for the worst.

Identity

In The Man in the High Castle, when Childan finds out that one of his rifles was a forgery, it throws everything he thinks he knows into question, and he compares it to a question arising about the “authenticity of our birth certificate. Or our impression of Dad” (p. 142). He is worried about losing his identity. In a world where it is often hard to distinguish between authentic and fake, we like to believe that we at least know who we, ourselves, are. We want to know everything about our background: where we came from, what our heritage is, to whom we are related . In this way, we form communities with other people who we can identify with. We base our lives around these identifications, so that when we find something about ourselves is different from what we thought, everything is thrown into question. If we do not even know ourselves, can we know anything for sure?

That is why we cling to our identities. Though Baynes had to change his name, his face, his entire life to save himself from being executed by the Nazis, he still lets loose, at great risk to himself, that he is Jewish to the German artist. He will always cling to his Jewish identity. Though Frank Fink changes his name to Frink to attempt to hide his identity, he can never truly forget that he was born Jewish. That is why when the police start suspecting, his reaction is to bolt. Childan also has to pretend to be something he is not all day every day. He takes solace in the fact that he is an authentic American, while no matter what the Japanese do, they will never be authentic Americans. Childan takes pride in his ethnic identity. While at the Kasouras home he thinks to himself: “Only the white races endowed with creativity…And yet I, blood member of same, must bump head to floor for these two” (p. 112). His heritage is so important to him that when Paul Kasoura criticizes American art, Childan breaks his façade to defend it, telling Paul that “the men who made this…are American proud artists. Myself included. To suggest trashy good-luck charms therefore insults us and I ask for apology” (p. 183).

Knowing where we come from is part of knowing our identity. We hang on tight to our roots because if we lose our identity, then how can trust that anything is true?

In class, someone wondered what made The Man in the High Castle different from the many historical novels that depicted these radical scenarios of altered history. I believe that what separates works of literature such as this novel and 1984 is the larger subcontext that both works develop. While many alternate history novels are plot driven, these novels consist of characters finding themselves in these radically different worlds and not attempting to explain all the historical changes that have taken place. Instead, the work can attempt to search and explore greater meaning than the rather simple question of what if the U.S. had lost World War II.

The situation regarding the forged Americana goods really struck a chord within my mind when I was reading. The question it raises for me is the idea of whether or not the truth really is needed in society. As we witness, everyone is happier when these forged goods are manufactured as the real thing, the Japanese buyers, the sellers and the producers. When this balance is upset, the situation is doomed to go to hell. A society based off ignorance thus seems to bring greater happiness to individuals than one where the truth is known. Unfortunately, the situation will not last as the replicas that are being created can not continue to provide for an economy forever. Similarly, in Cat's Cradle, the people of San Lorenzo attempted to live off this ignorance by pushing the truth downwards.


The inclusion of the fictional novel The Grasshopper Lies Heavy provides for an ironical look into the nature of mankind. When we first observe the idea that this author has created a book that depicts what we initially take to be reality, the U.S. and the allies victorious in World War II. However, what is instead created is a depiction of a society that has eery parallels with the reality of The Man in the High Castle. Instead of depicting our world, the world that Dick would know, he creates a new alternate history in his novel.

Deja Vu

When I read the back cover of The Man in the High Castle, I assumed I would be reading a story about how different the United States would be if the Axis Powers had won World War II. But you know happens when you assume… About halfway through the book, I realized this constructed society was actually quite similar to the society we live in today. The facts and details of the US in The Man in the High Castle are certainly different, but elements of the “fictional” US continue to remind me of elements of our own world.

First, I cannot help but notice the similarities in class structure between the fictional and real US. Class in the fictional US is structured with much more emphasis on race and ethnicity, but the idea of strong class structure is certainly a concept well-known to Americans today. Currently, America is facing one of the biggest socioeconomic class inequalities in history. The rich keep getting richer, while the poor get poorer, and the middle class slowly disappears. In our society, similar to the society in the fictional US, class is a large determinant of social status. Those at the top of the food chain in the fictional US can get away with murder, (probably literally), and our Wall Street businessmen can receive quite controversial bonuses, despite our failing economy. Class, though formed in different ways, plays a key role in both the fictional and the real US.

Second, a major focal point in The Man in the High Castle is the relationship between the real and the fake. Often, in our society, we deal with the same problems of distinguishing between what to believe and what not to believe. In particular, both societies contain very fake human relationships. In the fictional US, people hide their true thoughts and feelings out of fear from not meeting the demands of their predetermined class. On a similar note, people in the real US forge superficial friendships and act fake in order to attain certain benefits for themselves, whether it be to move up in status, to attain a significant other or to get a certain grade. I am faced with the realization that regardless of the events that occur in society, human nature does not change; people will often act fake to avoid repercussions or to reap benefits.

The final similarity I noticed between the fictional society and our own society was that some people are always power-hungry. Even though both fictional Japan and Germany have immense power, the governments are still not at peace with each other and often clash. Additionally, officials at the top of each government encourage the degrading classification of citizens based upon race. This determination of inferiority automatically renders those at the top of the system to be superior. These government officials place so much emphasis on being superior so they can stay in power. Similarly, we deal with many power struggles in the US. The main struggle that comes to mind is the struggle in Congress between parties to pass only bills that abide by a particular ideology. We sometimes need to give up on the power struggle and focus on other, more important agendas, like ensuring the well-being of citizens by restructuring our social security or healthcare systems. Both governments neglect many important tasks, because each are too caught up in a struggle for power.

For two societies that should be so different, it is awfully scary to notice so many similarities between them.

Nujood- A Girl Wise Beyond Her Years?

I recently purchased a book titled I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced, which I found on a “Books That Make You Think” table at Barnes and Noble. I have now finished it and realize that this class is helping me to view it in an entirely different light. After spending countless hours in and out of class attempting to dissect the truth in the novels we read, it has become second-nature to look for the line that separates truth from lies. I’m starting to understand why the two will never be able to be separated and how sometimes this line is not meant to be found. Kurt Vonnegut begged and seduced us to search for this line in an attempt to make us understand his view on the obsessive need of man to find a purpose behind everything. Tim O’Brien teased us with this line, keeping it just out of our reach, to make us understand why finding the line isn’t necessary. Nonetheless, as I read Nujood’s ‘true’ story, I find myself still searching for the line, but simultaneously wondering if I need to find it.

I guess what bothers me the most is that the book is supposed to be told by Nujood, a ten year old girl from Yemen who was married off to a man three times her age, beaten, and sexually abused before she ran away to ask for a divorce. The book is sold as a memoir being told by this young girl, in a first person narrative, and then written down by Delphine Minoui. Nujood has never received a proper education, she was pulled from school in order to marry her husband after learning only to write her name. Yet the story is told in the voice of an educated adult. It is obvious that the writer tried to ‘authenticate’ the story by writing in a voice that may be used by a young girl, but the ideas she voices are those far beyond the intellect of a child. The narrator speaks of the implications of religious, social and cultural norms as a way to spread awareness to the reader and anyone else who may hear Nujood’s story through other means. The inferences made by the narrator cannot possibly originate in the mind of a ten year old girl who cannot read or write, has half a year’s worth of education, and no access to a television where she can view the news. This forces me, as a reader and analyst, to separate Nujood the person from Nujood the narrator, just as we did with Tim O’Brien in The Things They Carried. As a result, I must also question the truth in her story and wonder how much of it originated in the mind of Nujood the girl, and how much was the exaggeration or commentary of Delphine Minoui, interposed and made to look like the story of Nujood.

The psychological dependence of the characters on the I Ching is incredible. Through Frank we see that they (or at least some of them) realize that investing all of your beliefs and efforts into the I Ching is a tad far fetched. In a way the I Ching is counterproductive in the sense that it blinds them to making conscious, logical decisions of their own. For example, they look way to far into the outcome of the I Ching and completely forget about reality. In some ways that can be good but the way I see it is that more often then not, its better to make a decision on your own. It does give the people of Dicks horrible version of the world hope and something somewhat tangible (your own throwing of the coins) to believe in. I think it also lets them make a decision from a safe distance. This meaning they make the decision based off of what the I Ching says which allows them, if it were to go badly, to have something to blame other than themselves. It gives them something to justify their decision.

In some ways its no more ridiculous to believe in the powers and correctness of the I Ching as it is to believe that there’s a bearded white man that lives in the sky who creates and controls everything on earth. When you reduce things to what they literally are, they sound absurd (which is probably why not too many people do that often).

A Day in Chinatown

Before every vacation I spend in Brazil with my family, my grandmother calls a week in advance with a list of items that she wants me and my mom to bring from New York. Although the products change from dresses to perfumes to teas, she always asks for a designer bag from Chinatown. So, last summer, before leaving for Rio de Janeiro, my mother and I ventured down to Canal Street on a hunt for a medium-large sized Goyard (french designer) handbag.

For those of you who have never been to Canal Street, trust me (I know it’s hard to do after this class) when I tell you that it is an anomaly to the rest of New York City. Right after the cobble roads of Soho that are lined with beautiful, high-end stores and before the quiet, family-style neighborhood of Tribecca, you have Chinatown, which is famous for Canal Street. The noise level is always a few notches above the rest of the city as the inhabitants shout at you, “Gucci bag. 50 dollars, 50 dollars. For you 40!” and “Real Chanel watch. Look look!” while thrusting the goods in your face. When you look down to avoid the hubbub, you can barely notice the sidewalk as it is covered with tourists’ feet and forged items laying out on tarp. If you look up, I Love NY shirts and backpacks are hanging from store ceilings. When I usually cross Canal, I take a deep breath and shove my way through the crowds until I finally emerge at a Starbucks on the next block. But, on this particular day, I had business to attend to.

My mother and I roamed the street, observing different bag styles and price ranges depending on size. Nothing called out to us and no one had any Goyards. Apparently they were not being sold anymore. After about 25 minutes of walking, one man whispered to us as we passed by him, “Real Goyard bag. 100 dollars.” This appeared to be our only chance to get one, so we spoke to the man for a minute and promised him that if he really had a Goyard bag, we would take it. Now, most people at Chinatown write one number on the price tag when they really intend to sell it for about 40% cheaper. This makes the customer feel special because he thinks, “Oh, they are selling it at 80, but for me they will make a special deal for 70.” In Chinatown, everyone is a “special” customer. However, our guy would not sell for less. Nevertheless, the bag was still much cheaper than one from the store, so we agreed to his price.

The man pulled us over into an alcove of an apartment and told us to wait there. It seemed like he was trying to keep us out of view...but from what? The only thing I could think of was the police. On his way out, the man pulled one of his friends aside and asked him to keep an eye on us. This is when my heart started to beat a little faster. I’m fully aware that Chinatown is full of sketchy transactions, but my mother and I are not the type to get involved and we most certainly have never been watched. The “friend” was so big and our alcove so small, that we were basically trapped in a 1’x3’ space until the return of our seller. My mom and I waited for at least 20 minutes. After about 10 minutes, we wanted to leave, but were unsure of the consequences of moving, so we stayed.

We had asked for a brown bag, but the seller only returned with black and red. When my mom tried to haggle for a discount due to the color mix up, he still refused. In general, I am a firm believer that all of the bags in Chinatown are fake, even though some sellers try to claim that their products are real. But, since our guy put so much effort into keeping the deal out of sight, imprisoned us while he went to get the bag, and would not settle for a lower price, I honestly believed him when he said the bag was real. And since my mom and I put so much effort in to finding my grandmother’s bag, we told her that it was real and bought at the store.

Only the seller knows the true authenticity of the bag, but my mom and I chose to believe him at face value just as my grandmother chose to believe us and similarly my grandmother’s friends will believe her when she tells them its real. So where does the authenticity lie?

Changing Ideas

Before todays class, I was planning on writing a blog about the book within The Man in the High Castle. I was planning on talking about how, like in the Books of Bokonon within Cats Cradle, The Grasshopper Lies Heavy seems to, in its own way, merge with the text of The Man in the High Castle. The fact that the author adds in a text of a science fiction novel that describes an alternate world due to the change in one event (the assassination of FDR), inside of a book which does this very same thing, creates an unstable ground for us readers. What is seen as fiction, within the novel, is what we know to be the actual truth (or similar to the truth in that the Allies win the war) and what we know to be fiction is the structure for the novel. I was going to describe how this, in effect, begins to play with our ideas of what is "authentic" and what is "fake." It is interesting how a text that we find to be "fake" is something that entices us to read on. Although we know its fake, it's this "fake-ness" that causes us to keep reading and that keeps causing the characters of TMHC (The Man in the High Castle if you can't figure it out) to read The Grasshopper Lies Heavy. This is then similar to how the text of Bokonon is accepted and read by the San Lorenzians despite the "harmless untruths" that fill its pages.

This was what I was going to focus on. Then, unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), through our knowledge of TMHC and the guidance of Chanelle, we were led to this very topic (I have to say, we covered much better then I would have by myself). At this point in time I was very frustrated that I could no longer write the blog that I had been thinking about all yesterday. Or could I? I knew I wouldn't, so the better question was why wouldn't I?

It's funny that as we were discussing authenticity, and nonsensical problems in which it creates, I was helplessly falling into its very trap. I was so mad that I could no longer write my post. Why? It took me a while until I realized that the reason I felt that I could no longer write this blog is that, to us within the class, my blog seemed to no longer have authenticity. I would have been writing a blog that was no longer the "original", no longer my own creation. I realized that my epiphany (which really wasn't that far fetched or mind blowing) was no longer authentic. With this realization I fell into the same trap the Childan and the rest of our society continuously falls into. It has caused me to really look at our discussion today and ask myself, is the fight for authenticity really what we make it out to be?

Escaping Reality through the I Ching

During class yesterday we talked about the I Ching and its controlling and freeing effects in terms of the characters’ behavior. I agree that the I Ching is controlling but in a beneficial way. The characters in Man in the High Castle use the I Ching as a mechanism to escape the harsh realities of their lives (i.e. living under German, Japanese, and Italian rule). I think most of the characters have problems taking control of their life; therefore, they intentionally stray away from reality and let this I Ching fantasy consume their thoughts and actions even though they realize its hogwash. For example, when Frank wishes to consult the I Ching about Ed’s first selling trip he eventually concedes and says, “It can’t sell our jewelry for us…it can’t give us luck. “ This demonstrates that Frank knows that it’s silly to invest so much into the I Ching and yet he still finds the need to use it anyway. I find the characters’ us of the I Ching similar to people reading novels. We read to escape reality and to emerge ourselves into a dream world. In some cases, we may sometimes forget what is reality and what is fiction. While the characters withdraw into a private world of illusion, they find some kind of comfort and meaning in the I Ching that their semi-apocalyptic world does not offer.

Wilson vs. Vonnegut

Along with hundreds of others, on Monday night I showed up at Wellin Hall to listen to a lecture by the famous E.O. Wilson. Although his entire lecture was engaging, in terms of this class, I was especially struck by his concluding remarks. He discussed the way religion fit into his field of scientific research, claiming that science and religion could complement one another. He believes that faith in a higher being and a sense of morality, when concordant with science, will produce the most effective and beneficial research. The connection between science and religion brought me back to Cat’s Cradle, and made me wonder how Vonnegut would respond to E.O. Wilson.

Based on Cat’s Cradle, Vonnegut would likely claim that there is either truth in science or truth in religion, but not both together. In class, we discussed how Vonnegut presents religion and science; always switching in and out of the story based on the “truth” it may hold in a given situation. Science and religion becomes a chiasmus, and the reader is often left confused, trying to follow which institution is more reliable. The confusion and doubt surrounding these institutions in Cat’s Cradle is Vonnegut’s criticism of both; each institution is flawed and neither is completely “truthful.” Vonnegut criticizes us as a society for believing so easily what science and religion tell us. He constructs Bokononism, a religion based solely on the idea of man (constructed by man, instituted by man, and followed by man). Yet we know that humans are flawed, so therefore Bokononism, and religion must be flawed as well. Bokononism is based on lies, and Jonah presents this as a necessary tenet of religion. Because religion is flawed, and full of lies, Vonnegut conveys that we can no longer blindly trust what it tells us. The same can be said for science; we cannot simply trust in that institution because it too is flawed. Businesses or powerful, opinionated individuals corrupt science, and often the “findings” are biased, and are not completely truthful.

So Vonnegut would essentially be attacking E.O. Wilson’s entire way of life. Wilson makes his living as a scientist, dependent on the fact that others will trust what he finds to be true. He also values the morals associated with religion; he believes that these morals will make his approach to science more genuine and effective, leading to improved results. Vonnegut would say that he blindly trusts each institution, and that because of this, he will perpetuate what he may think to be truths, but may really be falsehoods.

Is Ignorance Really Bliss?

"Perhaps if you know you are insane then you are not insane. Or you are becoming sane, finally. Waking up." -- Mr. Bayne's thoughts

Every class we ask ourselves, "Why?" Why do we care what is real and what isn't?

In Tim O'Brien's the Things They Carried, some of what we read actually occurred on the battlefield of Vietnam. Most of it didn't. Our discussion looped around the issue, speaking of the novel's commentary on storytelling and other themes, but at least in the back of my mind there was a persistent itch that I tried to ignore. (Was this the part that actually happened?) Questions that I tried not to ask. (Would I believe this emotionally if it were written by a non-war veteran?)

Way back at the beginning, while we discussed An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge by Ambrose Bierce in the gathering rain, questions that we had not yet learned to keep submerged littered the discussion . "Wouldn't it make sense if Farquhar had actually experienced some of this despite the twist ending?" It didn't even seem to matter that the character had never existed and hadn't experienced anything. "Did Farquhar really die at the end, or near the beginning?"

So my question is "why". Why does it matter to us? I'm not just asking this to make a point about how silly we are. It actually seems to be instinctive for us to figure out where the forgeries are, and it makes us uncomfortable as students and perhaps as human beings when we simply cannot. As Kurt Vonnegut alludes to in Cat's Cradle, like how the "tiger got to hunt", and "bird got to fly" (Cat's Cradle, chapter 81), humans need to question and question and question until we have everything figured out, or in any case collapse from exhaustion.

So is ignorance really bliss? Society has its systems of fakes and illusions, just like the forgeries in Philip Dick's The Man in the High Castle, and sometimes it seems like if we pop that bubble that it is going to burst the happiness of everyone. It might even be so that, as the character Wyndam-Matson says, "the word 'fake' [means] nothing really, since the word 'authentic' [means] nothing really" (Man in the High Castle, page 60). Perhaps the entire thing is pointless.

In my experience, though, living can not be done while in static ignorance. Perhaps a sort of struggling ignorance is all that is possible for humanity, with our limited perceptions, but in the philosophical, the academic, the experiencing world, we must ask the questions.

Even if we are insane, we can not help but want to know. The answer may hurt us; perhaps, however, we will be able to wake up. That possibility will force the human race to care for a long, long time.

White Lies by Mr Hudson

1. This song reminds me of our class and...

2. I find it very easy to write to, so feel free to add this to your Truth, Lies & Lit soundtrack

3. Check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CTA9i_sI8Uk

L y i n g I still can't find the truth...
So I spin another line on you
You can't blame a fella for trying
I'm hoping you eat my every word
Doesn't it taste so good?
But deep inside I'm dying

I wanna word with you
If there's never a perfect time
It's time for another white lie lie lie lie. . .

White lies just another white lie
I did it to get close to you
And I will tell a m i l l i o n m o r e white lies

It Has Been a Few Weeks Now

I remember that first day of class, opening the door after climbing three flights of stairs, eyes wide open, a thousand thoughts swirling around in my head. The college lifestyle had not quite settled in yet, I was both overwhelmed and interested as everything was new to me. In addition to this excited, anxious, and confused sort of emotion I was feeling was a professor mention, “I am going to manipulate you, lie to you”. These confident words followed a page long introduction about Professor’s life, which I honestly had no idea what was true and what was not. During the reading of that short biography, looking back now I can say it would be fairly easy to identify what really occurred in Professor Schwartz’s life and what did not. There was a fine line between the true statements and the false.

Since moving on from day one, I believe the class has progressed and the truths and the lies have faded into a gray area and have become much harder to identify. For example, in Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle I knew that obviously the fictional tools such as ice-nine which ends the world using its’ freezing power and Bokononism a fictional religion because when considering the world of reality, none of these concepts could be applied to real life. Then moving on to Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried the truths and lies became much more difficult to distinguish. Personally, as I read chapter after chapter it could all have been “real”. Since I enjoy reading war stories, I have read many in my life; and this is the first time I have been asked to consider the truths and the lies within the text. A tough task to ask, because after reading so many for years, I have automatically convinced myself that what is mentioned in a war story is real. The stories told by O’Brien whether true or not, could be applied to a battlefield in Vietnam during the war, which makes the truths harder to separate from the lies. The struggle continues, but every text seems to bring a new investigation to really dig deep and read the text for what it’s really worth.