Well, The Man Had His Priorities Straight

Movie Night Narratives

Yesterday was Movie Night again, so John picked us up at 4 PM (a couple of hours later than we’ve been leaving lately) and we picked up a box of 25 tenders at Chicken Express. Once settled in at Babeloth we began watching two DVDs of my choosing. They were a little quieter than our usual fare, perhaps, but I think they still engaged the boys. There was enough action and oddity for that.

First up was Big Fish (2003) directed by Tim Burton. Edward Bloom (Albert Finney) is dying, an outsize storyteller famous for spinning outlandish yarns about his life. His son William (Billy Crudup) who has grown disenchanted with his father’s tales (which has led to a falling out and a separation of three years) is soon to be a father himself. He and his wife return to Alabama, where Will hopes to finally learn the truth of his father’s life and come to some terms before he passes away.

Edward’s life is told in a series of fantastic flashbacks, involving witches, a giant, a lost town, a circus, a heroic army career, but most of all a romantic quest for the love of his life, Sandra (Jessica Lange). Will desperately struggles with trying to find the truth, but finds odd, ambiguous, conflicting accounts from various sources including his mother.

Edward has a final stroke and is lying near to death. Will takes up a final vigil in the hospital. When everyone leaves, Edward wakes up, obviously struggling. He has lived all his life by stories; now he requests his son to tell him a story to help him die, to ‘tell me how I go.’ In desperation Will weaves a final fantasy, a somehow joyous reunion of Edward with all the figures of his life story. In the end, he does not really perish. ‘You become what you always were, a really Big Fish.’ Edward breathes out his last word, ‘Exactly,’ and satisfied, passes away.

At the funeral, Will is astonished to see figures from his father’s tales turn up to pay tribute. There is a giant, but not as huge as Edward had him; there is a pair of twins from his army stories, but not conjoined. It seems there was truth in all his stories, mythicized, but true. Finally seeing that his father was not simply a liar, Bill becomes a happier man when his son is born, passing on Edward’s tales.  ‘A man tells his stories so many times that he becomes the stories. They live on after him, and in that way he becomes immortal.’

Our second movie was The Wind Rises (2013) from Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli.  It was one of Miyazaki's several farewell films. It tells the story of Jiro Horikoshi, who dreams of flying. Because of his nearsightedness he can never be a pilot, so he becomes an aeronautical engineer. He is spurred on by the thought of his idol, Count Caproni, an Italian airplane designer, whom he meets several times in his dreams. The dream Count tells him ‘The wind is rising. How will you live?’ Jiro knows that all his work on airplanes will be used by the government for military purposes, but what can he do? They are the only people who have the resources to fulfill his dream of beautiful flight.

Jiro is a student in Tokyo when he saves Nahoko Satomi from the Great Kanto Earthquake. But in the aftermath, he loses track of her. He struggles with designing planes after graduation; Japan’s ‘allies,’ the Germans, refuse to share technology. His project fails testing and is rejected. For a rest, Jiro goes to a summer resort, where he is accidentally reunited with Nahoko. She has been searching for him all these years. A German tourist, Castorp, witnesses their growing romance and warns Jiro of Hitler’s plans for another world war.  In the end, Castorp flees from the ‘Special Higher Police’. ‘The wind rises.’

Jiro wants to marry Nahoko, even though she has been diagnosed with tuberculosis. Their love is a beautiful dream, that, if undertaken in reality, comes with tragic consequences. ‘How will you live?’ Jiro accepts that love, and Nahoko goes to a sanitorium to try to recover a little, and Jiro, because he is wanted as an associate of Castorp, goes into hiding at his boss’s house. From there, he can still work on planes. When Nahoko suffers a ruptured lung, they decide to go ahead and get married and enjoy the fleeting time they have together.

As Jiro goes to the final test of his prototype, Nahoko quietly tries to return to the sanitorium. At the height of his plane’s success, his spirit is suddenly darkened by a premonition of Nahoko’s death, a rising wind.

After Japan has lost the war, Jiro again dreams of Caproni. He laments that his work was used for so much war and death; Caproni comforts him with the thought that at least he finally fulfilled his dream of a beautiful plane. Nahoko’s spirit also appears, urging him to live on. Jiro and Caproni walk off into their shared dream of beauty and flight.

Once again, a bonus feature of our viewing was Actor ID; in Big Fish, Ewan McGregor, Helena Bonham Carter, Robert Guillaume, Steve Buscemi, Danny DeVito, and Deep Roy; in The Wind Rises (English dub), Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Martin Short, Werner Herzog, Stanley Tucci, William H. Macy, and Mandy Patinkin. And (we learned later) Elijah Wood and Ronan Farrow, though we didn’t identify them while we were watching and only learned later.

I only thought later that there was a sort of connecting theme between such diverse films: the thought that dreams and narratives give shape and meaning to our lives, beyond mundane and observable facts, beyond compromises with the world. 

 

The Lord of the Rings: The Houses of Healing (Part One)

‘A mist was in Merry’s eyes of tears and weariness when they drew near the ruined Gate of Minas Tirith.’ Devastation is all around, fire and reeking smoke, dead bodies abound (some half-burned), even those of mumakil (‘shot through the eyes by the valiant archers of Morthond.’).  All the lower city is ‘wrapped in a smouldering reek.’

People are already trying to clear the way in, and a line of litters are bringing in the dead and wounded. Eowyn is brought on soft pillows, but Theden is covered in a great cloth of gold. These are brought in with extra respect and are shown due respect; but Merry follows on foot, treading the winding stony ascent in a sort of daze. ‘A meaningless journey in a hateful dream.’

To Merry the torches of the procession seem to flicker and go out and he walks in darkness. He imagines the road is a dark tunnel leading to a tomb, where they will stay forever. ‘But suddenly into his dream there fell a living voice.’

It is Pippin! They are alone. Merry rubs his eyes and asks where Theoden and Eowyn have gone and learns that they have been taken into the Citadel. Pippin says Merry must have fallen asleep on his feet and taken a wrong turn somewhere. When Gandalf saw that Merry was not with them, he sent Pippin to find him. Pippin asks if he is hurt.

Merry says his right arm is numb and useless ‘since I stabbed him.’ ‘And my sword burned all away like a piece of wood.’ Pippin said they should not have let him walk all the way back. But so many dreadful things have happened, one little hobbit on a great battlefield is easy to overlook. Merry says sometimes it’s a good thing to overlooked. He was overlooked just now by – but he can’t talk of it. Just the remembered thought of the Witch-King makes him grow colder and his mind darker.

Pippin wishes he could carry him, but all he can do is have Merry lean on him and head back. ‘Are you going to bury me?’ said Merry.’

‘No, indeed!,’ said Pippin, trying to sound cheerful, though is heart was wrung with fear and pity. ‘No, we are going to the Houses of Healing.’

They struggle along until they reach the main street. Pippin wonders if there can possibly be anyone to help them; they’ll never get there at the rate they’re going. Then suddenly as if in a moment of miracle Bergil, Beregond’s son and Pippin’s friend, comes running by. He is doing errands for the Healers. Pippin asks him to bear a message to the Healers and especially to Gandalf, that they have a wounded hobbit on their hands and need help. Bergil agrees and speeds on.

Pippin decides they’d better wait there and sits down with Merry in a patch of sunlight, his friend’s head in his lap. Merry’s right hand, the one that struck the blow to the Nazgul, is ice cold.  Before long Gandalf himself appears, checks Merry out, and lifts him carefully. He should have been borne into the city with great honor. Merry has well repaid the trust Gandalf had in him. He recalls how Elrond didn’t want the younger hobbits to come; if they hadn’t, the day could have been even more disastrous. ‘And yet here is another charge on my hands, while all the time the battle hangs in the balance.’

Bits and Bobs

A litter is a framework for carrying the wounded or dead; nowadays we would probably say stretcher.

Morthond (black + root) was a region in central Gondor, where the Morthond River runs near the southern entrance to the Paths of the Dead. It was a green valley carved by the river. Shooting an elephant in its eye, as its one vulnerable spot, is a classic motif.

I can’t help but think this section of nightmarish fatigue was informed by Tolkien’s war experiences, too.

2021 Diary: Dreaming Days

2/1/2021: First day of February. Woke up from dreams of magic dueling with vicious enemies.. It was in some larger context that I can’t remember and was followed by something I felt was significant but can’t remember either. So. Fully awake a little before 7 AM and remembered Kam goes back to school today. Prayers. Got dressed. 7:30 AM, and about to start Bible then ready to go see him on his way on the bus. Read some more “Herland” on the Kindle. On my way out the door at 8 AM when Kam calls me to remind me. I go out and meet him halfway up the driveway. I ask him if he has a mask, and he tells me he forgot. I loan him the spare mask I have in my pocket, crip back to the house, get the key, get in the garage, grab his mask, and crip back. We have a minute or two still, then the bus comes. I go back and as I already have the key, start my wash, and come in and start Perry Mason about halfway in. Now 8:30 AM and time to make breakfast.

Had a ramen with eggs, and a couple of turkey sandwiches. 11:30 AM, after getting wash in and folding it, lay down for a nap. About 12 Susan calls me and tells me (quite reasonably) that I forgot to boil eggs and make egg salad. D—n it! At 1 PM I go in to make cucumber salad, and Kam gets home. I let him in.

At 4 PM I go in to make couscous and fish rings. At 5:30 PM I lay down to nap, getting up and 7:30 PM and going in to clean up. Rosary, then bed again at 11 PM.

 

2/2/2021: Groundhog Day. Up at 6 AM. Prayers scattered over the morning. Shower. Catch up diary. Bible. Go out at 8 AM to wait with Kam. Bring in the bin. At 9 AM go in to boil eggs and make egg salad. My HEB order came in while I was boiling. Took it to the guest house, then finished cooking. Had 6 spring rolls for breakfast; they are pretty good, almost better than egg rolls, but smaller. Wrote a bit, then e-mailed John.

At 1 PM I went out to wait for Kam; started my rosary. Let him in and finished rosary. About 3 PM I went in to start cabbage etc.; Andy called at 4 PM and asked me to watch for the exterminator and let him in. Saw 3 strange cats while waiting, which explains the yowling: 2 are obviously male in quest of the 3^rd. I sat outside till 4:30 PM, then ran in to tinkle and turn off the oven. Got back just in time to meet the bugman. Afterwards I took my supper in and ate. Some TV and cleaning.

Back in at 7:30 PM to clean. Andy had just got home and was starting to eat. I made Kam some Tx Toast and a grilled cheese sandwich, then washed up. Came inside, watched GA, then to bed.

 

2/3/2021: Woke up at 5 AM from some extraordinary dreams. In one I was captain on a magic “pirate ship” galleon that could outrun and outmaneuver any modern ship, and that was just what I was doing, teasing any navy ship that was trying to stop me. It could even run on land, which I did and found myself in a field, a sort of Jurassic Park place, being chased by 3 T. Tex. Outran them, too, but the big one, infuriated by chasing me, jumped their barrier. In another I was browsing an enormous “Yesterday’s Warehouse” where there were plenty of interesting books but in rather incomplete and damaged condition, from comic digests to Penguin books to crumbling old obscure classics. I wanted to call John’s attention to a stack of multiple copies of “Witches, Witches, Witches” but he was elsewhere in the store. I began to wander the grounds which was bigger than I thought and the books only part of the enterprise with gardens, kitchens, etc. It was rather like a monastery, in fact. I passed Alec Guinness, and then Jean Stapleton, who was lost too. We seemed to recognize each other and be glad to see the other. We were out back where the utilitarian tin buildings turned into fields. I offered her a drink from my little flask of water, but she emptied the warm contents out and filled it from a nearby faucet.

Got up and wrote down dreams. Now I think I’ll do “prep” then lay down to see if I can sleep for a bit more.

Couldn’t. Up at 6 AM. Prayers, Bible. Watched some cartoons, then worked on HF (?) for a while. Made beef stroganoff for breakfast, then went out and waited with Kam till the bus came a little after 8 AM. Went in and ate and didn’t go in the Big House at all.

Didn’t take a nap all day; instead wrote on and off, reading Thomas Mann’s “Royal Highness”, snacking, and using my newly batteried clicker to search the TV. The writing on HF was fun and engaged much of my time. I sent it off to John later.

Started my rosary. Kam home a little after 1 PM. Made him cinnamon rolls, and myself some chicken nuggets. At 3 PM went in to start chicken breasts, rice, broccoli, and mushrooms. Made myself some chicken, cheese, flour taquitos. Back to the guest house about 4:20 PM. Wrote. Sent all I had written to John about 6 PM.

At 8:30 PM watched GA, then bed not long after 9 PM. Up about 11:30 PM, so cleaned a bit and caught up diary. Now 12:15 AM. Back to bed, I guess.

 

2/4/2021: Up at 7 AM. Prayers, Bible. Showered and dressed and took medicine and ate a can of fruit cocktail. “Destroy All Monsters” on in the background. Went out a little before 8 AM to wait with Kam. Oh, Lordy, I feel weak and my right leg hurts. Morning cloudy, windy, and in the 60’s.

Watched most of “5 Million Years to Earth”. For breakfast made a ramen with eggs. Finished off the cherry pies. At 1 PM went out and prayed my rosary, waiting for Kameron. Had some beef, cheese and flour taquitos for lunch. Watched a lot of Babylon Bee Reads the LOTR, then DW shows. I think I’m heading into the down cycle of my bipolarity. Sluggish and sleepy, anyway.

Went in at 4 PM and started supper (chili, corn, rotini). Finished and out at 4:30 PM. Ate. About 6 PM or so Susan came out and told me that there had been COVID shots at the Coliseum that were supposed to close at 5 PM, but as they had a surplus they had to use, they would be open until the shots were used up, and did I want to go? After hemming and hawing a bit, I said yes, and we bundled up quick and left. I was lucky enough to be in the last group let in, and after going through the rigamaroar I was out at 7:10 PM. Andy wasn’t home yet (had to do wheels; there’s crushing soon) but I made Kam chicken nuggets and cheese sticks. I went in after GA and cleaned up. Nothing much to do now until I go to bed. Probably read a bit.

 

2/5/2021: Wrote one page of HF. Everything else pretty rote for a Friday, except in the evening I felt fatigue and some pain in my right arm. Went to bed about 8 PM.

 

2/6/2021: After a night of up and down every hour or so, I got up at 7 AM and slowly got dressed. Some prayers. Went in at 8 AM and made omelet. About 9:20 AM Andy took me to HEB Pharmacy to pick up my medicine. Went back to bed about 10 AM, then woke up about 2 PM. Finished prayers, read Bible, washed dishes. Ready for supper (I guess you’d call it) at 4:30 PM, one of those cans of Wolf Brand Chili and Beans (beans mashed by me). We’ll see how that works. They were OK. Spent the rest of the evening kind of lurching around. Had some chicken nuggets for supper. No rosary. Bed when?

 

2/7/2021: Up at 6:50 AM. Had a bit of a struggle whether I should go to church today; finally reconciled myself to watching Mass on EWTN. Afterwards at 8 AM finished my prayers and acts (contrition, etc.) and read the Bible.

Feeling a bit brighter in spirit, took a shower, dressed, and had ramen for breakfast. It’s now 10 AM, and the day looks sunny and clear. Prayed a rosary at 1 PM.

Posted on NOT 4 times today, in an effort to catch up, using old diaries to fill the niches. For a meal about 2 PM I had the other can of Wolf Brand Chili with beans, then later for supper I ate the chicken pickings from the garippe Andy brought in with cocktail sauce, a banana, then the rest of the chicken nuggets. Had a few chocolate chip cookies through the evening.

Watched some Phineas & Ferb over the day, and other Disney shows. Made my WWF goal. Feeling less fatigued from my shot.

A real trip back through time with the diaries, especially as they are exactly 40 years ago, and through January and February. Only had to edit them slightly. Now 10:30 PM, and I think I’m ready to shut down for the day. Rosary at 11 PM.

 

2/8/2021: Woke up about 4 AM from a dream. It was like I was in an alternate history; the time was NOW, but the past was very different. A woman connected with the making of a big movie adaptation of “The Hobbit” (all the Jackson Tolkien movies hadn’t been made in this timeline) had gone to McQueeney as a child (let’s call her D’layne) and as a stunt was premiering the film at her old school. I was there as an old classmate. What she either doesn’t remember or doesn’t want to confess is that we saw the Hobbit play in 3^rd grade and that she didn’t like it but that I became an enthusiast for Tolkien. When we meet for a brief moment she realizes I know too much about her past and about Middle-Earth for her comfort. She doesn’t really know a lot about it and left it to her cohorts; she also doesn’t want me to show her up. I am hustled away for the premiere, which includes the actors putting on a short play/recreation before the film. There is an auditorium where the curtains part to show that the stage is actually on a real riverside out back. The actors are there, and Bilbo is fishing, or pretending to fish. He actually catches a little perch, but none of the actors known what to do or are too nervous. To their relief I actually come up and take it off the hook and throw it back. Applause, and the band starts playing a riff of hillbilly music as a tribute to my … rustic skills? But everyone is nervous as something still appears to be lurking in the water. Is it the real Gollum, or another water monster drawn by the activity?

Then later the action seems to drift back to Loop Drive. Apparently, I have secret mind powers that I have only used to enhance my life at home rather than trying to rule the world, and D’layne is amazed and annoyed that I don’t use them to greater scope. The Gollum-monster is creeping around in the dark and terrorizing everyone. We hear an awful howl in the dark as he kills a dog. D’Layne asks me: “You’ve got all these avatars; why don’t you do something?” And I do have tulpas of all kinds of characters, from LOTR, Marvel comics and Dragonball Z, and so on. I get Vegeta to send up an energy ball to light up the darkness and drive him away, but then we realize there are plenty of dark places for him to creep into and hide, so everyone must go and search for him, perhaps in hiding places that are even inside the house with us.

Up at 6 AM. Prayers, Bible. Then cartoons. Meh. Got dressed, fleshed out dream from notes. I realized that the “riverside danger” feeling sort of echoed the ancient Creature from the Black Lagoon dream. Monsters from the id?

Little before 8 AM went out, noticed package on porch. Kam came out and we waited for bus, which came at 8:10 AM. I brought the package over to the kitchen porch. Went in and prayed the rosary; done at 8:30 AM. Wrote a couple of paragraphs on American Fantasy. Now waiting for Susan to leave to start wash. Then groceries … cottage cheese fer breakfast!

So all that came to pass, along with fetching the postal packages as well. Boiled eggs and made egg salad. Groceries missing only Little Debbie Cherry Cordial Valentine Cakes and included 2 unordered bags of HEB Corn Chips and some Ritz Chips – which I am keeping, as per the store directives. Changed the wash at 11:15 AM (2 loads today) and was waiting on the porch when S&A drove up. Was listening to GGACP when the connection pooped out. Ate a can of ravioli.

E-mail to John: Tomorrow I am having a carrot cake for Mike’s birthday – his 59^th, I believe. I don’t think he was too fond of carrot cake, but I am, and he’s not getting any anyway. If you could, it would be nice to have a visit and talk and eat cake and such. If you can’t, a good phone talk would be nice as well.

At 12:30 PM started the cake. After Kam came home at one (and Andy ducked in to change clothes) I started making the broccoli salad, which I finished a little after 2 PM. My afternoon seemed kind of cursed: my green shirt ripped, the handle fell off my new water jug, I kept having to do everything the hardest way possible. I laid down a bit, but Kam called me at 3:30 PM to make him corn dogs and cheese sticks, and cinnamon rolls to boot (but there were none). I iced the cake and started supper (fish cakes and couscous). Fed the pets. Finally, all was done, and the garbage put away and I returned at 4:45 PM. Ate my couscous and broccoli salad, took my garbage out, and I’m ready for a nap. 

But I did not nap. Instead posted on NOT. John replied that yes, he would either come or call at 11 AM tomorrow. Washed up at 7:35 PM and made Kam supper. Had cheese and olive loaf sandwiches. Watched a little TV but couldn’t concentrate on any one program. A little after 9 PM and I think it’s off to bed now.

Notes

I was kind of surprised with how many things seemed to be recurring just now. Before I ever looked this entry up, I had ordered spring rolls again (I don’t often) and cottage cheese (I haven’t for months) and the stuff for a stew (not surprising, given the cold weather). Also, I’ve been having a series of vivid dreams, which I haven’t for months.

I haven’t yet figured out what HF is; His (Something?) or (Something) Fantasy? I couldn’t find anything in last week’s entry; hopefully I’ll eventually find out in later entries. WWF = Words With Friends (haven’t played that in a while); GA is Green Acres (I don’t think I could stand watching anymore for another 30 years).

D'Layne was the name of a girl I went to McQueeney with; the character in the dream was not her. I just plugged the name in as a likely stand-in when I was writing it up. The dream about the magic ship ties in strangely with my current project.

(Fictional) Good, Evil, and Free Will in Ortha

Good, Evil, and Free Will in Ortha

 

The first time I considered the subject I was in high school, and approached it in a rather mythopoeic way:

“In the Eye of the Vortex [of Chaos] was formed Shyreen Morlakor, the essence and spirit of All. He sat and darkly considered Chaos. Then he reached out his hand and separated Eternity into Time and Space. So things now happen in one certain place, at one certain time. In the void that was the absence of Chaos, he shaped cosmic residue into the Earth, from which arose Orathil. But as yet he took little notice of this fellow spirit of Chaos.

Now it came to pass that as he stood on the top of the tallest mountain of Earth, terrible strife began to rage in his head, causing him pain. Two spirits, components of creation, were battling within him. And to ease his pain, he cast them forth before him. One spirit was perfectly formed and pleasing in every way, and possessed of all virtue; whereas the other was loathsome and full of all wickedness. To the first Shyreen said "You I name Aman," and to the second he said, "You I name Belg. You are both my sons; go forth through the world and do as I do."

He turned to Aman. "Because you were willing to submit to my judgement, I shall favor you. Whenever I weave the webs of Fate, you shall have a favorable thread, although I will not help you to utterly defeat Belg. In token of my favor I give you the power of the sun and the moon." He turned to Belg. "Because you defied me, I turn my face from you. No aid you shall have from me, but neither shall I hinder you. Be cunning, and the Earth may yet be yours."

There was a lot more fol-de-rol, but that was the basic set-up. It might do for a simple myth-within-the-world, a story simplified and superseded.

In Korm’s Master (2017) there was this exchange:

Korm: "Oh, well, the Ogres. What's their true character, I mean, what are they really like? This question borders both on the study of Nature and of History. Could we reach some understanding between us, in spite of what's gone before? I mean, we've had quarrels with Men, and now we're the best of allies. It would probably involve some sort of delegation going North, but the benefits should it succeed might far outweigh the danger...”

Belmok: "Every fifty years or so someone with more hope than wisdom raises the same idea as yours and toddles off North; sometimes the patrols find their skeletons. I recall the last Morg to test the idea found a young Ogre runaway and tried to raise it; it ate his baby son out of the cradle." He turned from the display and started to leave. "Those of us with long memories try to discourage the experiment."

And then I wrote this in Eye of Darkness (2019):

“Don’t give yourself so much credit,” Raksil scoffed. “Spawn of Belg, Children of Aman – you’re all half-brothers of dirt through Orathil. You’re not so different, any of you flesh-bags, even the dainty Ivra. There is potential in all thinking creatures, even the Yorn when we are in this world, to choose our way. I know what you think, all of you: that you’re the ‘good’ ones. Well let me tell you, it’s no done deal, and you’re not more virtuous than anybody, no, not even the Ogres! There have been plenty of wrathful Morgs, and lazy Men, and violent Ghamen who’ve served Norda just as well. And Ogres? You all hate Ogres. Well let me tell you something. There is in all of us, every descendant of Morlakor Shyreen from the beginning, a will, a tiny secret will. But in you physical things the will has a special place to stand. Even an Ogre has this. Even an Ogre could - if he chose – be as good as you. Oh, they have no natural bent for it, and everything is done to discourage it, what is allowed in their culture, what is encouraged for their world view, but it still remains, by some infinitesimal chance, possible that an Ogre could choose to be just as good as any of you. We [evil spirits] can’t breed it [completely] out.”

Raksil, because he is basically a demon, might be discounted as a liar, but I don’t think so in this case. He means it as a degrading fact to torment and demean Belmok.

In high school, in my naïveté, I described Morlakor Shyreen as something of a Demiurge; he is not Ultimate Being because he emerged from another source. He might be termed the Supreme Being as he is the most powerful, personal thing (being) in the Universe, but he’s not the ground of all Being.

I also now would not describe Good and Evil as equal elements. That is Manicheism. “The dark is the diminution of light until it deepens to the unseeable, just as Evil is the diminution of Good until it collapses into the destruction of itself.  Darkness depends upon the creation of light, just as Evil depends upon Good for the possibility to exist.” In the beginning, Aman and Belg must have both been created good, as must all of the Yorn.

I imagine this must have been both for companionship and for what has come to be called ‘good healthy competition.’ Their efforts were supposed to spur each other on, to complement each other’s creations, to have a sort of conversation, to encourage diversity.

Belg, in time, must have ‘wanted all the blocks,’ to envy his brother’s creation. This caused him to fall into evil, and to take other Yorn with him. These produced or corrupted shadow, decay, fear; all which have their proper place, but which were tainted and tinged with evil. Having fallen, Belg ‘fathered’ the Ogres in envy of Aman’s Men, Morgs, and Ghamen. But through Orathil, the material world, their mother, they still hold a tenuous toehold in Free Will.

Why are Ogres evil? Because their origin is from spiritual Evil. Aman and the Good Yorn rue this, but they will not destroy them. That would be an evil in itself. Incarnate Beings in the Material World (i.e., Morgs and Men) are allowed to kill Ogres in self-defense, but not to hold a race-cleansing crusade; that would also be an evil.

The Ivrans hold a philosophical concept that may be of interest here. They have one of their jaw-cracking 14-legged terms for it. Let’s just say ‘goodness is diverse, creative, and original, evil is essentially parasitic, repetitive, and drearily the same. Goodness is manifested in endless, unique ways.’- C. S. Lewis. Japanese culture has the concept of wabi-sabi, of beauty expressed through imperfections, irregularities, and transience. Vulcan philosophy espouses IDIC, ‘Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.’ The Ivran term is an odd combination of all three concepts. It allows that no incarnate beings have to be perfectly good to be “Good,” that in fact their admixture of virtues and failings make them unique and interesting.

So my search for a perfectly evil mook who can be killed without compunction leads me down an interesting philosophical and ethical mode. I don’t even know if this is the end of it. All I know is that the ‘Good’ people have to give the ‘Evil’ people a chance to surrender or run away. “Do not hurt where holding is enough; do not wound where hurting is enough; do not maim where wounding is enough; and kill not where maiming is enough; the greatest warrior is he who does not need to kill.” - Stephen R. Donaldson, channeling Buddhist teaching.

 

 

Family Relic: More of Nanny's Eastern Bric-a-Brac

What really brought this to mind is that I was watching the William Powell Philo Vance films, and I saw this exact incense burner (same design; bigger, though). I got this from Mom's stuff, and she, of course, got it from Nanny. Nanny, I imagine, got it from one of my uncles from when they were overseas. I forget, sometimes, how much of Nanny's stuff we still have; how much I personally still have. There is a strange strand of aesthetic I inherited from Nanny that I don't always acknowledge. It stands tucked away on one I my shelves; it could really use a good going over with a little polish. Or would that spoil the patina? A proper dusting, anyway.

Friday Fiction Follow-Up

As I have no new writing to post, as such, I thought I’d give a little update on the writing I am doing. It’s something I’ve mentioned vaguely in the past. This is work on a proposed TV series, which I am tentatively calling The Wizard, The Prince, The Warrior, and His Son. I know, I don’t have much of a talent for titles. Something shorter and snappier would make it easier to shop around when it’s ready.

It takes place in our shared fantasy world of Ortha, in the years after the Goldfire War. It involves the efforts of Koppa, the wizard, to form a magical school for the kingdoms of Forlan. To that end he forms a company, including the young Prince Varnik, the famous Morgish General Roth, and his son Moq, who stows away for the adventure. They travel around the lands, looking for magically talented students, while their efforts are opposed by the evil sorcerer Zin, one of the Dark Lord’s surviving lieutenants, who himself seeks revenge for his master’s downfall and to further his own power.

I’m taking a rather leisurely approach to things right now, writing only a bit each day every weekday, ending each session knowing what I’m writing next, taking the weekends off, and trying to give each little segment its own due consideration. I guess I’m averaging about an episode per month; I just finished Episode Four yesterday and will start Episode Five (after some preliminary notes Sunday) come Monday.

I’ve been sending the completed scripts to my brothers John and Kenny. John, being local, gets my bits of writing every day, and I get input and suggestions from him as I go along. Working in the parks in Florida, writing and acting in shows, Kenny has less time for it, though he has been encouraging. Being closer to ‘the business’ I would be interested in his more detailed, critical opinion, especially anything that might help it get shopped around. Something I don’t plan to do until I have at least a couple more episodes under my belt.

In the meanwhile, I’m simply enjoying working on expanding the ‘mythology’ of Ortha, visiting places and peoples that heretofore have only been notes in the background. It’s also simpler and faster than doing things in prose. Still, I’m taking it easy and I think the daily progress (instead of taking things in breathless chunks every two or three days) is giving me more of a sense of accomplishment.

So I’m shaking off the cold of the past few days and getting ready for a new month. Just keep writing.