Jack's Twisted Kingdom
There are seven sins in the..
There are seven sins in the world:
wealth without work,
pleasure without conscience,
knowledge without character,
commerce without morality,
science without humanity,
worship without sacrifice,
and politics without principle.
- Mahatma Gandhi
Now if that aint just fucking profound, I don't what is
strange really, didn't really,
we are educated, verbally able in other respects, interested in
ideas and people and that thing old-fashioned writers called
beauty. We live above the subsistence line, and are not so
consumed with invading Iraq or adding to our sexual conquests
that we can't set aside 30 minutes a day to monitor ancient
And yet, against the hopes of our parents and teachers and
spouses and friends and sons and lovers, we don't read. Not
the real stuff anyway. We are, as the experts like to say with a
horrified sense of wonder, aliterate -- able to read, and read
well, but disinclined to do so. We can blame time and
tiredness, changing technologies and altered priorities; still, a
reluctance to read is not all that different from an inability. As
Mark Twain observed, in that terribly trenchant way of his,
'The man who does not read good books has no advantage
over the man who cannot read them.'
I had nearly stopped reading books, for two reasons, I think:
most of my reading time was being spent reading on the Web;
and the books I felt I should be reading consisted of
non-fiction that seemed important or interesting, but that
wasn't compelling enough to inspire me to sit down and read.
One thing started me reading again, and I got through many
more books this year than I had in the previous two: I started
reading fiction again, in bed before I go to sleep.
I'm still not up to a book a week, I still enjoy the idea of
reading many more books more than I enjoy actually sitting
down to read, and I still have a long shelf of books that I
'should' read. But I believe I have re-discovered the secret,
which is simply reading what you enjoy, not what you think
you ought to be reading.
instead of the constant drivel of non metaphoric and
completely worthless writings of a slightly deranged loser with
no life, whose constant complaining belie the truth of my own
existance and who simply refuses to accept the possibility that
he is responsible for his own actions.