...and then there's the Kindle

While I'm on the topic of technology, here's another one that I was initially resistant to (though far less vehemently that the cell phone stuff). I love having a hardcover book in my hands to read. I like the weight of it, the feel of the paper, the smell of the book (I actually smell my hardcover books as soon as I open them, yes), the silk bookmark that often comes with them, and the sight of them on the shelf. Definitely a bibliophile!

Even so, when I first saw the Kindle on amazon.com, I was very intrigued. After all, part of being a bibliophile is that I do not like my books to get all messed up. Paperbacks I could care less about, even 'high quality' paperbacks. But the idea of packing a hardcover or taking it to the beach? Gives me the willies just thinking about the potential scuffs, worn corners, and stains. And then, of course, you really have to commit to a book to bring it along. What if you change your mind? So the idea of Kindle - a durable device that holds hundreds of books - was very appealing.

Still, I know would miss the hardcover book. And there are other objections I had: being able to mark where you leave off, the quality of the reading experience (I stare at screens all day), will anything I want to read be available or will it all be trash like Stephen King and Danielle Steele, etc. etc.

The more I investigate Kindle, however, the less the objections seem to weigh on me. You can download direct using the Kindle and get the book right away, so there's the convenience factor. You can 'dogear' pages and type notes, which I honestly cannot bring myself to do in my hardcovers. So this is actually an advantage for the Kindle. To me, the display looks pretty easy on the eyes and you can make the text bigger or smaller. The Kindle can hold 1,500 books now, which answers a prior concern I had that I would fill up the Kindle pretty quickly. Books are still very reasonably priced, and I've found a lot of stuff for sale (like novels in Emile Zola's Rougon-Macquart cycle) that are fairly rare. The price of $299 means it would quickly pay for itself too.

I still hesitate because there's no clear indication of how you recharge it. Is it going to take two days? Is there a docking station I can set it in so it is always charged? I also wonder if, once I buy the Kindle, am I stuck buying books only from amazon, because that would be a deal killer. No outlet offers everything, and I want to get what I want to get even if I have to go elsewhere. I'm also not aware of whether you can move books off the Kindle and onto your laptop. I would see myself keeping only stuff I like or may come back to on the Kindle and place other works on my laptop.

Bottom line, I guess I can still have hardcovers, but perhaps I would only get them for absolute faves, or if I find a rare/old edition, or if it's something specially made (like my hardcover edition of The Agony and the Ecstasy which is in a box slipcover and has color plates of Michelangelo's art inside). These sorts of lovingly created books are so enjoyable to have.

And the big question is, of course, where is all this going? At some point, I'll bet the iPhone will develop a Kindle-like function (maybe they already have one!?). If so, I'd hate to buy a separate device for reading and have it become obsolete within a year. I'll have to keep pondering this one. In the meantime, I am still on my Herman Melville kick, and I'm about a third of the way through his fifth novel (White-Jacket).

Seduced by the iPhone

I don't hate cell phones, blackberrys, palm pilots, bluetooth or any of that stuff. I'm just disgusted with how people become enslaved to it. Bring back the second hand smoke, I say. It's much preferable to the zombies running around glued to their inane digital chattering devices.

I hate that I can no longer be anywhere without some asshole's ringtone going off. I hate idiots who speak into their phones in something akin to a bellow so that everyone around them has to listen to them prattle about nothing for ten minutes. I hate soccer moms holding up traffic because they can't steer their SUVs while yakking on the damn cell phone. I hate riding my bike on a stretch of nature trail and seeing someone stomping along, ignoring the outdoors and staring at a cell phone and texting. I hate people that play with their phones and call people without having anything to say whenever they find themselves at an airport or alone with nothing to do. I think people are already afraid to be silent and do nothing because they might reflect on their lives and not like what they see. Cell phones make it easier for people to avoid themselves by keeping 'busy'.

I love technology, but I hope I am someone that uses technology and does not let it use me. I actually turn my cell phone off and leave it off for days - even weeks - at a time. When I went on vacation and my boss asked for my number in case he had to contact me, I said 'NO!' I do not twitter, because I do not give a crap what anyone is doing every minute of the day. It's all I can do to keep myself interested in what I'm doing every minute of the day! So, in short, I am not interested in being 'connected', and my efforts remain unconnected have done nothing to hamper my relationships with friends and family or to hurt my career.

So now that I've outlined my gripes about the misuse of technology, let me make it clear that I am not a Luddite. I love the iPhone!!!!! I have two friends who have one, and I want one. Mind you, based on the above commentary, it's clear that I do not need one. This is sheer Veruca Salt styled consumer acquisitiveness. I want an iPhone! I want it now!

I love how the Internet, GPS, cell phone, .mp3 player, photo album, (to an extent) your computer, and who knows what else can all be held in your hand in one device. I love how you can use your finger to move stuff around. I love the look of it, the ease of it, and the convenience of it. In short, I am being seduced by the iPhone. Of course, I may yet realize that I do not need this toy and that buying it is a waste of money, but I think this is unlikely. Once I glom onto a bit of technology, I go all the way immediately. For example, within a few weeks of getting my iPod I got the speaker to go with it, trashed my stereo, almost never bought another physical CD, and fervently championed that people should be free to burn or share or steal music because it's a form of free advertising for the artist.

Who knows what will become of me if I heed the siren song of the iPhone. Probably nothing, now that I think of it. For no matter how entranced I become with the iPhone (or anything else), the spell will undoubtedly be broken when the latest Black Eyed Peas ringtone goes off to announce that my second cousin's aunt just fed her cat!

April 2010: St. John, Virgin Islands

With London scheduled for the Fall, we set our sights on where to go in the new year. We went to St. John's last year and loved it but, when Jim mentioned going back, I kind of resisted because I preferred to go someplace new. But the more I thought about how much we loved the villa we stayed at, the number of beaches we haven't seen there, and the great snorkeling, the more I thought "Well, why not?"

St. John's was the first time I saw squid in the water while snorkeling. There were three or four of them and each was about a foot long. Colors were rippling up and down their bodies from their chromatophores, and they were just hovering there. Totally cool! They like aliens on Earth! The best snorkeling I think I've had was in the Turks and Caicos Islands, but St. John's definitely was very good too.

The picture is me while we were hiking around the island (you can click on it for an even larger view - and then you can see my unattractive squinting, as well). Check out that empty beach! It's empty because we went in April and, although the weather is beautiful at that time, there are hardly any cruise boats or tourists. So we'd get up early, and I'd drive us in the 4WD jeep to a beach like the one above, where we'd be practically alone for much of the day! The villa had a hammock along the patio with a commanding view of the sea so, each afternoon, after a morning of swimming and fun, I could read and nap there in the shade and stare out over the water.

I can't wait to go back! Maybe this time, I'll convince Jim to go deep sea fishing with me. Someday, though, I have GOT to learn to scuba dive!

Thomas Cleary - Zen Essence

The most useful book on Zen I have found is, so far, this book of Zen sayings. Compiled and translated by Thomas Cleary, who apparently has spent many years translating a great deal of Eastern thought into English, Zen Essence is a terrific book. I don't think you need to know much about Zen to find this book useful as an introduction yet, at the same time, the more you do know the more you will be able to get out of the book.

What I especially value about Zen Essence is that the sayings are pulled from ancient Zen Masters only. I usually prefer material like this, rather than material created by contemporary 'Zen masters'. Too many contemporary writers come across like New Age gas bags rather than actual practitioners of Zen. Plus, I think there's more validity in getting as close to the source as I can, rather than reading someone's interpretation of someone's interpretation of what someone else wrote.

Many times, before I meditate, I read one of the sayings in this book. While I'm calming my mind, I don't actively think about the saying. However, once I'm all quieted down I find that the saying resonates a bit in my mind and my awareness of its meanings seems to just come naturally. I've had some real epiphanies while meditating in this way and, of course, I keep track of all this in a journal dedicated solely to Zen.

Perhaps, in addition to the Emerson nuggets I'm sharing, from time to time I'll pull some of these thoughts into the blog. My only fear is that what I learn through Zen is usually pretty personal or, more accurately, is most relevant to myself. So it may not be at all useful to anyone else. That's why I usually keep it to myself, not to mention that makes it more likely I'll actually apply what I've learned and profit from it. I've found that people who preach about other people's failings tend to spend a lot less time acknowledging their own or doing anything about them. Plus, if I went around spewing what I've gained from Zen, I have no doubt my friends would find me insufferable pretty quickly!

Rank Test!

I'm approved for the yellow belt rank test! The test takes place on August 28th, which scared me at first because we're leaving for London in late August. Turns out it's the night before we leave, but I don't care. I'm going!

I think the test will consist of the basic punches and kicks, the wrist escapes, the first two throws, and teasing moves. I think I've got this stuff down pretty well, though there's always room for polish. In any case, I've certainly got loads of time to practice.

Peteradio

On my iPod, I have a playlist called 'Peteradio' that I limit to 50 songs. As I get new songs, I pull them in - along with a song or two from each new album I buy - and move out the older stuff. To keep the listening interesting and somewhat smooth, I rarely include classical, jazz, US pop music, rock, or any rootsy stuff and keep it to trip hop, afro pop, chill, trance, ambient, pop from overseas, hip hop (not rap), deep house, brazilian, IDM, etc. This gives me a nice long mix to listen to, and it never gets stale. Here's some of what's currently on Peteradio:

Always - Gabrielle -Awesome pop song. She's been huge in the UK for a decade.

Indian Fever - David Starfire

Borderline (radio edit) - Michael Gray f/ Shelly Poole

Divine Idylle - Vanessa Paradis - Johnny Depp's babymama makes great music in France.

The Fear (StoneBridge radio edit) - Lily Allen - Great critique of the darker side of US culture.

Illuminate - Latrice - Top notch deep house track.

Manifesto - Vanessa Daou - Smoky, sexy, with a trunk throbbing hip hop beat.

I Was Made For Lovin' You - Kate The Cat - Lounge, lounge, lounge. A cover of a Kiss song.

Manifold (morning edit) - Aes Dana

Stars - Erika Jayne

Justify - ATB

Beija A Mim (Saudade) - Zuco 103 - Fun-kaaaayyy!

Me Cai - Pacifika

Love's The Only Drug - Ultra Nate - She's been the queen of house for a decade at least.

Take Off The Blues - The Foreign Exchange

Entoto Dub - Dub Colossus - Cultural mish-mashing at it's best: dub reggae, chill, and Ethiopian music.

Pretty Wings - Maxwell - He's back!

Indigo (Androcell remix) - Tripswitch

After Party - Ozomatli - Mostly sung in Spanish, but the party vibe transcends language.

Give The Drummer Some - Nickodemus - Interesting artist from Soul Seduction.

Sirens - Carmen Rizzo f/ Kate Havnevik

Mirror - Supreme Beings Of Leisure - Slammin' trip-hop cultural commentary.

I've Given Enough - Blue Six - Ultra-sexy sax, Aya on vocals, and from the Naked Music label.

Ishq - Niyaz - Sensual groove and Azam Ali singing 18th Century Urdu poetry. Wicked!

Vampires - Thievery Corporation - From Radio Retaliation. See my review here in the blog.

Fire On The Mountain - Asa - French/Nigerian artist on a great protest song.

Azul - Bebel Gilberto - If you can't chill to this Brazilian import, then you just plain suck.

Long Life - Dela f/ Talib Kweli - Real hip-hop, not fake-ass bubblegum shit like T.I. and Cam'ron. And you have to get it from a French producer. Sad comment on US music right there.

Mind Wall - Towa Tei f/ Miho Hatori - This Japanese/Korean DJ always twists my ear. I love him!

NYC - Kasema Kalifah Caines - Spoken word to a nasty-dirty beat.

Right Now - Samantha James - Smooooooth! From the deep house diva on the OM label.

Change - Joy Denalane f/ Lupe Fiasco - Soulful R&B from a German/South African artist.

Night Train - Timewriter - Renowned German deep house producer on the Plastic City label.

Siegecraft

poem 4 from The Ancient Elm

Outcast of the Untamed Wood,
I shine myself.
But willed or unwilled
such light draws eyes:
illuminating some,
blinding others.

For to be
is to sharpen the sword,
don battle armor,
and light the bonfire
enemies and allies
array themselves around.

The Castle Keepers
hear of me from oracles
of entrail and ash.
They contrive war -
the Wizard of the Ancient Elm
in their eyes a Knight of Swords.

Powerful in my mythology,
armored of myself,
outside of illusion,
my gaze blasts their walls,
shatters every gate,
scatters them before me.

Invincible Wizard-Knight,
I gallop into the Castle
to the people's adulation.
My banners flying proud,
trumpets, streamers, and flowers
bless my armor.

For the art of siegecraft
is to be...
and watch the world
wrap around you,
turning
wand to sword to scepter.

In this poem, I wanted to explore the idea that finding your true essence and 'shining' that can lead to you creating friends and enemies, because some people will like or dislike what you are. Some even see you as a threat (seeing the Wizard as a Knight of Swords). However, I've found that so long as you remain true to your essence discovered while meditating that you ultimately prevail. It doesn't mean that you win every battle, but that you ultimately find a place of peace and happiness. This is why I characterize the Wizard-Knight as invincible; it's possible to deter a person who has been enlightened but you cannot stop them in the long run. I also feel that when you are freed of illusion, there is a confidence that you exude that people are drawn to. So the speaker in the poem lays siege to the Castle merely by being and is embraced by the people he once ran from. Also, when you are enlightened, you are in control of yourself and your life, so the 'world wraps around you' (rather than you conforming to cope with the world). This turns the power of enlightenment and truth (the wand) to power (the sword) and ultimately to control over your own destiny (the scepter). At base, this is the idea that you do not need to contend or fight or strain overtly to prevail. You simply have to be and hold to that. All else follows.

Herman Melville - Redburn (1849)

Herman Melville had quickly achieved renown as a writer with his first novel Typee in 1846. Just over three years later, his success as a novelist hit a brick wall when his attempt at a more ambitious project (his third novel, Mardi) was a resounding flop, critically and financially. Once it was clear to Melville that his glorious experiment was a failure, he quickly produced another book to recapture his public. Written in a style that had more in common with Typee and Omoo, Melville's fourth novel achieved little notice. In fact, Melville would never again enjoy even modest success as a writer.

This is unfortunate, because Redburn is his best book to this point. Although his writing returns to the crisp style employed for his South Sea adventure tales, the focus has shifted to recount his experiences as a greenhorn sailor on a ship going from New York harbor to Liverpool and returning with a cargo of immigrants. Like Typee, Melville uses the story to alternately entertain, inform, and communicate a particular point. Unlike his colorful first novel, however, Redburn is much darker in tone.

The protagonist, Wellingborough Redburn, is a young man of good birth who, due to reduced fortune, has decided to ship as a sailor. Redburn's sometimes florid expectations regarding etiquette, as well as his lack of experience with the sea, make him the perfect narrator for a modern reader who likely knows as little as he does. Melville's knowledge of sailing ships helps him set the stage as he shows how even in words, a greenhorn can get into trouble, and this also tinges the story with a realism that is bracing. I found myself very engaged with Redburn as a person, for he is easily Melville's most fully realized character to this point. Even when I could see poor Redburn was making a big mistake, I could relate to him as he tried to make the best of his situation. I keenly felt his homesickness, his loneliness, and especially his joy at the end of his voyage.

Melville also does a good job depicting an array of secondary characters which really come alive as people. There's the pretentious Captain Riga, ill-fated Harry Bolton, the sinister Jackson, and a romantically sketched Italian immigrant named Carlo. This helps color the tapestry of experiences Redburn meets on his voyage, including learning how to get by as a greenhorn, the rampant poverty he finds in Liverpool, seeing an Indian vessel, and the realities of immigration at this time. This last is most interesting as an eye-opening dose of reality about what it took for many of our ancestors to come to America. Not a pretty picture at all.

Melville has several themes that he explores in the pages of Redburn although he does so without sacrificing his plot or without resorting to the pompous overwriting that sank Mardi. First, there is the painful consciousness Redburn has of his former station in life and his current poverty. This flows easily into his experiences with the poor of Liverpool and the exploitation of immigrants. He is also sympathetic to the sailor's life, with some hair-raising episodes relating to the drinking and dissipation that overtakes many of them. Lastly, there is the coming of age of Redburn himself. At the start of the voyage, he is as green as green can be and a bit of a snob. By the end, he has a lot more common sense and is even a guide for his friend Harry. One definitely feels Redburn has learned from and even is glad of his adventures and that he will meet his situation in life with more success because of his sea voyage.

Altogether, Redburn is Melville's tightest and most rewarding book yet. The darker tone does not depress or overwhelm the material, but rather renders the narrative more true-to-life and thereby enhances the dramatic tension of the story. Unfortunately, Melville couldn't appreciate his own creation and only reluctantly retreated from the pretenses of Mardi. In his letters, he was quite open about how he only wrote Redburn to make money.

This suggests to me that Melville's weakness as a writer was that he had no sense that simply written prose does not equate to simple-minded prose. Instead, he apparently linked pretentious, ornate text with art. If only he had realized the soul of a book is more important that the words it's wrapped in, he might never have ruined his career with Mardi and maybe he could have better appreciated the excellent book he created with Redburn.

Michael Jackson RIP

Okay, let's get this out of the way: Michael Jackson was definitely a few sandwiches short of a picnic. I get that. However, that doesn't change anything. The guy was a musical genius with historic impact, and his passing is a very sad thing.

As for the allegations against him, I think they can be ignored. Remember: being weird is not proof of being a pedophile, and Michael was found not guilty in court. The LAPD never made anything stick (and we all know they tried like hell!). Plus, if I remember correctly, many of the alleged 'victims' were from scam artist families so, unless some actual proof comes up, I'm willing to give Wacko Jacko the benefit of the doubt on the Jesus Juice stuff (even though his 'sharing your bed' confession completely creeped me out).

When I think of Michael Jackson, I think of how much he changed music. I think people forget that, when Thriller was released, the cards were totally stacked against black artists. Billboard and the whole music industry segregated music with a pop chart and a 'black music' chart. MTV straight out refused to play videos by black artists. In fact, most white people hadn't heard any music by black artists since the Disco Sucks movement, because the radio stations played either pop/rock or 'black music'.

Michael shattered all of this. After Thriller, you couldn't talk about pop music without talking about him, and MTV had to drop their racist programming or become irrelevant. Radio soon followed. With Michael paving the way, the door was opened for Madonna, Prince, the rap crossover, and - ultimately - the end of the odious 'black music' charts. Given that this musical segregation didn't end until 20-25 years after the civil rights movement got us all drinking out of the same water fountain, it was clearly Michael's talent and success that led to its demise. Every white person should take a second and imagine their iPod without any black artists, dance music, R&B, or hip-hop/rap on it. Before Michael broke these barriers down, that's what the musical landscape was like. Whitebread.

Plus he was a star if ever there was one. Every video Michael released, especially from Thriller, was a huge event. A gather-round-the-TV kind of event. Of course, videos aren't anywhere near as relevant now. When Michael did the moonwalk, or wore the zippered jacket, or did anything, everyone was talking about it. Fashion changed because of him. He also brought dancing - real dancing - into music and music video. As for live shows, with few exceptions, a rock or pop concert used to be a bunch of people standing on a stage, barely moving, playing instruments, and singing their stuff. After Michael, you had to put on a SHOW. It was all about a mixture of fashion, dance, special effects, and music. The big production tours of today got their start with MJ.

It's no exaggeration to say that if Michael hadn't happened, that the history of pop music since the early 80s would have been completely different (and a lot less interesting). Although I didn't buy his albums after Thriller, I loved most of his songs and it wasn't until Invincible that I got any sense he was resting on his laurels. I would have been very interested to see what his comeback would have been like, and what his next set of music would have sounded like. With popular American music having spent the last ten years circling the drain, maybe someone of Michael's stature could have pumped some talent, energy, and creativity back into music.

Bottom line, I think he was a great performer, writer, and singer, and I'm sad the guy isn't around anymore.

Another goal? (part 2) & other threads

It looks like none of the schools near me offer any kind of Masters in English or English Lit. Well, that kind of stinks! My only option is to check out degree programs online, though I wonder if they'll let you get a degree like this over the Internet. I would imagine many English academics are anti-Internet hippies. I'll keep investigating.

On the plus side, the weather has gotten a lot better and I've been biking at least 20 miles a week. Going out this AM and hope to do 30 miles. Of course the weather didn't improve enough to avoid a pile of rain on the Fourth. That was pretty depressing; had to stay inside all day. Well, at least I got a lot of reading done on my current Melville novel (Redburn), which is much better than that mess (Mardi). Hapkido also continues to go well, though I've taken a week off while my parents are visiting.

Lastly, I contacted an old friend (Ray) from out of the blue and we'll probably meet up for dinner sometime to catch up. So fun! He's been in a relationship for about fifteen years, and we used to do all sorts of cool stuff when we hung out years ago. I remember one time we went into one of those queerboi clothing stores that line the streets of most pink ghettos and went around making fun of all the dorky clothes. The salespeople glared at us the entire time but, because we were gay, there wasn't much they could do about it! I suppose we've probably matured by now...maybe?

Thievery Corporation - Radio Retaliation (2008)

I've been listening to Thievery Corporation since their 2000 album The Mirror Conspiracy, and I really enjoy their work a lot. As the years have gone by, there has been an increasingly political bent to their work, mainly around the concept of globalization. However, I felt that some of this was more suggested (i.e., in the photo book that came with 2002's The Richest Man in Babylon) rather than making up a big part of their actual music. At the same time, I was beginning to find a sameness and overly chilled approach in their music that was making new releases non-essential for me. For example, I checked out 2005's The Cosmic Game, but ultimately just bought the Versions EP.

The duo's newest CD, Radio Retaliation, is for me not so much a return to form as the Corporation taking their music to the next level. The chill tracks are still there, but they are offset by a surprising - and welcome - number of faster tempo, gritty pieces. In addition, almost every track is overtly political and addresses the pains of globalization head on. The unique CD package includes the lyrics on a huge poster intended 'to convey a transformative political and social message' including quotes, both insightful and controversial, from a host of thinkers and activists.

What's especially admirable about Radio Retaliation is that it does not substitute the fact that it's 'political' or 'making a statement' for the need to deliver great tracks. Too many CDs with 'messages' spend too much time being pseudo-hip and not enough making listenable music. Not so on Radio Retaliation. The Corporation delivers a surprisingly varied set from slamming jams like 'Mandala' and 'Vampires', to mid-tempo stuff like 'The Numbers Game', to the chill vibes the Corporation is so well know for ('La Femme Parallel'). The closer 'Sweet Tides' is like a dose of balm after the hard-nosed reality of much of the music and is a great way to close the CD.

This album is destined to go down as one of the best trip-hop/lounge albums ever. It's ambitious, well-written, impeccably produced, and delivers a hard-hitting message wrapped in great music and never gets preachy or whiny. Come to think of it, an endorsement like that means Radio Retaliation is one of the best releases of the last year, period. Get it!

Emerson (from 'Self-Reliance')

'Whoso would be a man, must be a nonconformist.'

This is one of my favorite Emerson quotes and, like many quotes from him, it is attacked without an understanding of what he in fact means. I suppose this is a danger in pulling any quote from its context. The response to this quote is really sad and usually goes something like: "Yes, but people have to conform to some degree because if everyone just did what they wanted society would collapse."

The reason I find this reaction sad is because it is based on two absolutely horrific assumptions that I think people would reject if they knew they were assuming them. First, the reaction assumes nonconformity (i.e., freedom) means everyone disagrees with everyone else and ends up becoming ax murderers, thieves, or sex fiends. Second, the reaction assumes that the continuation of 'society' is a higher purpose than individual freedom or happiness. Both are absolutely false assumptions.

First, just because you disagree with people as a rule doesn't make you a nonconformist. Nor does being a criminal or habitual law breaker make you a nonconformist. I would argue that a society of nonconformists would find common ground on basic things like the sanctity of life or the value of cooperation because doing so is natural and leads to mutual benefit. As a result, society would not fall apart. If anything, society would be more cohesive because it would be based on things all people can agree on. It would also be open to people questioning themselves and each other rather than being forced to adhere to inflexible (and usually unnecessary) 'rules' imposed on all by a few.

Second, the perpetuation of a 'society' is not ever more important that the happiness of its individual members. Anyone who thinks it is should check out Nazi Germany or Soviet Russia, because this is where that idea is played out openly. It's not a pretty picture. I'm willing to say categorically that any society that might fall apart because people pursued what they wanted based on the integrity of their minds isn't a society worth saving.

Here's some context around Emerson's quote that clarifies his position: 'Whoso would be a man, must be a non-conformist. He...must not be hindered by the name of goodness, but must explore if it be goodness. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind.' So he's not tossing out 'the good' with conformity; he's saying we should always question what is 'good' and not just accept what a president, priest, or figure in authority says is good. We must question, argue, and if necessary defy the 'good', if it does not seem to be good to our minds. If something is good, it should be easy to convince people and get them to go along with it. It is also easy to defeat people who fight the 'good' by appealing to people's better judgement and self-interest. In contrast, people get ugly and violent when touting a 'good' when they don't know why it is 'good' or - worse - a 'good' they know isn't good and are fighting for just to conform or preserve 'society'.

Ralph Waldo Emerson - Great American Thinker

One of my favorite periods of literature - perhaps my absolute favorite - is early American literature (I should probably say 'early US literature'). I've always been fascinated with what people were like at the beginning of the nation. There was a lot of high idealism (utopians, transcendentalism, the Revolution) mixed with crushing inhumanity (i.e., Native Americans, the slave trade).

One of the best things about the period is Emerson and his essays. For me, they represent the best of the early American spirit: being a pioneer in act and/or thought, skeptical of authority, idealistic but very pragmatic, and self-reliant. There's a lot of wisdom in his words, and his transcendentalism has a lot of Zen to it. It is often that I think of my thick paperback of Emerson essays the same way Christians think of The Bible. It's where I go for fuel, and I always keep a copy of his writing in the nightstand next to my bed.

I love hardcover books and always get them for anything I like to read. However, I can't ever have a hardcover for Emerson's writings, because I just mark up the margins and underline things as I read too much! Part of this is to help clarify what I'm getting out of him, because he can write some pretty long, winding sentences. Part of it is that he is just so 'quotable'. All throughout his writing are phrases that you can pull out as rules to live by.

Anyway, I thought that in my blog I would every so often share some of my favorite Emerson nuggets. Sort of my way of proselytizing on behalf of good old Ralph.

Zazen

poem 3 from The Ancient Elm

Deep in my Untamed Wood,
I gaze into a volume
of late autumn sky,
close my eyes,
become my breath,
vanish into seas of air.

echoes of wind in
Antarctic Wastes…
endless grasses tossing in
Great Plains…
bottomless blue of the
Caicos Deep…

In sympathy
I connect all places
and create…Nothing.
It is there I can
shine
myself.

Original light,
cleansed prism,
souvenir from my mythology
brought back
to this world
like a newborn star.

'Zazen' is the term used in Zen for sitting in meditation, so this poem is about what the speaker does when he goes 'outside' into the Untamed Wood as described in Wizard of the Wood. The Untamed Wood for me also represents escaping the place where things are ordered or structured based on illusion, which makes it harder to figure out what you need as opposed to what you are supposed to do. It is here that the speaker finds a clear sense of himself and a clear purpose. Meditation can give this because it is about reaching a place of quiet and peaceful reflection. At the same time, it's reaching a place where you are not thinking about anything per se.

The best way I heard it described is that ideas and thoughts come to you, but you only acknowledge them before letting them go. Sort of like if a helium balloon came near me. I would glance at it, softly tap it away, and go back to what I was doing. I usually think something like "That's interesting; I'll think about that later." If I think about anything it might be a koan I read.

In any case, reaching this point - called 'samadhi' - is a place that I find realizations and knowledge just come without effort because I've cleared my mind of clutter (illusion): 'am I going to get that promotion?', 'what is she saying about me?', 'what should I do about [insert current drama]?' etc.. Finding this knowledge is what is meant by 'shining myself', because so much of taking control of your life is just being true to yourself.

The last stanza explains the power of coming back from samadhi. I feel like I go back to my day-to-day life calmer and with a clearer sense of what is important and what is not, which includes drama I'm creating in my own head and things I can't really do anything about (and the not important stuff is most of what I - and most people - are usually wound up about). This is why Zen is so great; it frees you of illusions and lets you shine easily.

It's London

We've finally decided on a trip for the Fall, and it's London. I've never been there before, so I'm really looking forward to it. Some friends at work have been giving me all sorts of advice about where to go and how to get around, not that I have any doubt that we'll have plenty to do.

I would really like to see Hatfield, where Elizabeth I lived and learned she had become queen. There was supposedly a big tree outside the house that she was standing beneath when they gave her the news. Beyond that, of course there is the theatre and all the sights around London. Part of me would like to take a trip to see Stonehenge, but I think it's really far from London and most people tell me it's not worth it.

So that's all booked...now we have to start thinking about where to go in the Spring!

Bad Blogger!

I haven't created an entry for something like a week! Not good! I should be like that Dobby character from Harry Potter: "Bad Blogger! [smack head with shoe heel] Bad Blogger!"

Most of my first month in Hapkido went by and I had a great time, so I signed up for the six month contract! I can already feel my legs and sides are stronger and I have a heightened sense of balance.

I'm still continuing with my Melville kick. I'm about a third of the way through his fourth novel Redburn, which is pretty good so far. Jim and I are alternating between watching Farscape and The Tudors on DVD.

Did another bike ride...finally! The weather has been in the 90s for a long time, so it's been impossible to do anything outdoors. We got about 24 miles in this time, so we're working up.

My parents are coming to visit for the Fourth of July weekend, so I'm taking a few days off. Should be fun.

So I'm well aware that this is a really lame post. It's more like an amalgamation of entires on some vapid twitter page. Bad Blogger!

Another goal?

I should be a bit careful what I write about on here after experiencing the power of writing about martial arts and then feeling impelled to go do it all the more! But...I've been toying with the idea of going back to school yet again!

I got my BA in Marketing from NIU, then later on thought about an MBA for a week before I came to my senses. Then I actually started on a Masters in IS at DePaul, but realized it wasn't at all a fit for me (although I did quite well). Finally, Jim and I both decided to get Masters in Liberal Studies at North Central College right here in Naperville. It was fun because we got to share the experience, and I got to take all sorts of cool classes: writing, history of science, globalization, literature, public discourse, leadership, etc. We had to do a thesis to graduate, and I did mine on the theoretical underpinnings of astrobiology. It was terrific, and the two years went by very quickly!

I had skipped my high school graduation because...well...who cares about graduating from high school? I skipped my NIU graduation because I just wanted to move into the city and get started with my life. But I went to my Masters graduation! Jim and I both went. I invited my family, had a big party, made a major deal out of it. This was my first degree I got solely because I wanted it. It was tough, and I was proud of it.

So, anyway, I was thinking that I've always loved literature and have taken loads of classes in it. I'm always reading (note the posts on Melville!). If I'm reading this kind of stuff in my spare time, why not do it as part of getting a Masters in Literature (or something)? I have no idea what I would do with such a degree but, well, why is it that I have to do something with it? Why can't getting a Masters in Literature be an end in itself? Something to enjoy and a goal to attain?

I need to think more about this.......

Paul moves

Paul is one of my best friends (he's in the pic on the right with another close friend Gretchen), and he's moving to Austin, TX in a few days. I'm bummed about it.

Of course I'm happy for him. He's going to pursue some of his life goals (not to mention he can avoid Chicago-area winters). However, it sucks having someone who you are close to moving so far away. On the plus side, I now have a place to crash should I ever visit Austin!

I guess I feel that - as you get older - it seems more difficult to form new solid friendships. Of course, I've never been someone who wants or needs a ton of friends. I just couldn't deal with that kind of social calendar. But that means the close friends I do have are all the more important to me. There's all that history, and they know my strengths (as well as the stuff you'd rather they didn't know!).

I suppose this is a wussy post...after all this is the 21st Century, and there's more ways to keep in contact than ever before. And it's not like he's moving to India or something. Oh well, enough whining. Good luck in Austin, Paul! See you this winter!

Herman Melville - Mardi (1849)

After the successful one-two punch of his first books (Typee and Omoo), Melville took a little more time to produce his next novel. In the interim, he got married and contributed to journals (he wrote 'Hawthorne and His Mosses' at this time). Unfortunately, when released, Mardi was such a complete critical and financial failure that it single-handedly destroyed his newly-won success as a writer. Melville never recovered his audience after Mardi and, after reading this fiasco, it's not hard to see why.

Mardi actually starts off very well as a third episode in Melville's South Seas adventures, picking up where Omoo left off. However, the plot is much tighter than in Omoo and far more interesting. In fact, for the first fifth of the book, Melville's definitely bringing his A-game. There is some grandiose phrasing unlike his typically crisp style, but it doesn't detract much. At first.

About a fifth of the way into Mardi though, after the characters melodramatically rescue a girl named Yillah from some island priests, the plot collapses. Several chapters ensue that are, quite frankly, pale retreads of the 'island life among the savages' stuff that Melville did much better in his two previous novels. Then Yillah, who has become the main character's squeeze for no apparent reason, disappears. Unfortunately, since Melville never made her anything more than a two-dimensional presence, I really didn't care about her or the narrator's feelings for her. This left me uninterested as a reader, and effectively diffused Melville's plot. Incidentally, for those who debate about Melville's sexuality, his descriptions of Yillah are absolute proof he was gay - especially when you compare these tepid platitudes with the homoerotic, head-over-heels rhapsodies he pens for Jarl ('his Viking'). It's pretty clear who he thought was yummy! But I digress.

Not only did the plot collapse, but it was also at this point that Melville's writing turns into amateur, pretentious crap. His prose is slathered with endless mythological allusions and stilted language that strangles his narrative flow and renders anything he is trying to say laughable. He describes Yillah's beauty: 'Of her beauty I say nothing. It was that of a crystal lake in a fathomless wood.' How vague, trite, and random is that? Then there's: 'For oh, Yillah; were you not the earthly semblance of that sweet vision, that haunted my earliest thoughts?' There's page after page of this hoity-toity phrasing, and no viable plot to help you look past it. Much of Mardi, in fact, is directionless, unrelated ramblings sewn together like Frankenstein's monster.

A great example of how overgrown Melville's prose had become while he was writing Mardi is in the chapter 'Mardi by Night and Yillah by Day'. The core of this chapter is Melville's beautiful panoramic word painting of the Mardi islands at night, and the poignant emotions such a scene stirs in him. However, the brief description and his emotions are buried within a two page 'chapter' of stilted writing, overwrought metaphor and simile, and adolescent histrionics.

You want stilted writing? How about: 'obeying a restless impulse, I stole without into the magical starlight' or 'but how your mild effulgence stings the boding heart.' You want histrionics? How about: 'Am I a murderer, stars?' Or try out this little gem (and try not to laugh): 'Oh stars! oh eyes, that see me, wheresoe'er I roam...tell me Sybils, what I am.' Melville groupies - judging from some reviews of this book I've read - are able to excuse anything from the man who wrote Moby Dick. I'm sure Melville had high aspirations for this book, but that really doesn't excuse anything. Mardi is pompous, sentimental writing that would have made the stereotypical 'lady novelist' pull out her editing pen. Coming from Melville, it's just embarrassing and I felt bad for him.

Unfortunately there's more. Throughout Mardi, Melville layers on bombastic (and oftentimes trite) metaphors and similes like a baker using super sugary icing to cover up that his cake isn't all that good. In the brief two page chapter noted above, Melville references Saturn, Indian wigwams, waterfalls, Greek mythology (two or three times), gnomes, and elves sailing on nautilus shells - all in ONE paragraph! This is awful writing however you spin it and, after a dozen chapters like this with no plot or coherent thematic thread, I'd had it!

In short, Mardi is unreadable. I am not surprised it was a flop in Melville's time, nor that it single-handedly finished him with the reading public and the critics. Melville realized his error, as well, for his next book - Redburn - was a return to the pseudo-autobiographical approach he had used with Typee and Omoo. Published less than a year after Mardi, it was obviously an attempt to sweep the failure of Mardi under the rug and recapture Melville's public. Unfortunately, the damage was too great and Melville was ignored for the rest of his life. This meant there was no one paying much (if any) attention when he produced a masterpiece in Moby Dick.

Although some empty-headed academics may worship anything the author of Moby Dick wrote, the objective truth is that Mardi is every bit the debacle it is usually painted as, and only Melville's name on the cover keeps it in print. Consider yourself warned!

Wizard Of The Wood

poem 2 from The Ancient Elm

Chained by illusion
I sustain the Castle Keepers,
their gates and walls.
Until, a mere boy,
I dare the Untamed Wood –
outside…

Where trees become wands,
I live in an ancient elm.
Alone with secrets,
I can remember them.
Without twisting nature,
I gain power over it.

At my command:
illusions vanish,
the rainbow returns
to pure light,
and I reform the world
weaving my own mythology.

Now the Castle Keepers
matter not –
their gates and walls
do not signify –
for when illusion tempts me,
I go outside…
When I am chained,
I go outside…
When I need power,
I go outside…


This poem picks up with the idea of being lost in illusion, or a way of thinking and living that is not real and is not in your control. Although this is completely self-inflicted, it often seems to stem from people around us, our job, expectations, our life in general, etc. (the Castle Keepers). That's ultimately why I felt I had to get away via my Pete Retreat; it was the only way I felt I could shut all that stuff down long enough to escape illusion and think without distractions (alone with secrets, I can remember them). So the narrator in the poem becomes like a hermit/wizard and seeks enlightenment away from it all (where trees become wands). However, I also wanted to turn all that imagery on its head. There is no magic or mysticism to Zen, once you get outside of illusion by simplifying how you view things (the rainbow returns to pure light) you are able to find the wisdom you have inside and take control of your mind and life (weaving my own mythology). This is finding enlightenment. Once you experience enlightenment, you can mentally summon it at any time to center you and guide you so you can sidestep illusion. The more you learn about Zen, the easier it is to not be seduced by illusion, and this ultimately gives you serenity and power over the world around you.

Me After My First Bike Ride of the Season

Technically, this isn't my first ride of the season because I biked to work a few weeks ago, but that's only a few miles so it hardly counts. This afternoon's ride was 16 miles, which is a good starting ride(I usually get up to 30 miles a ride as Autumn approaches).

There's a lot of great bike paths where we live (the Illinois Prairie Path), and they all connect up into probably well over a 100 miles of paths. Much of the IPP is wooded and not interrupted by roads much. So you feel very much that you're in nature. It's refreshing to be outside like that for a few hours, and there's often wildlife to see (on this ride Jim and I saw two deer!).

The best part of this ride was what I call 'the Cathedral'. It's a section of one path that is lined by slender trees that rise up about 50 or 60 feet, with their branches meeting above. The angular shape reminds me of the ribbed inside of a cathedral, so it's like this pagan hall of worship. It was getting dusky, and there were all sorts of black and silver greens and a wonderful sense of quiet there. Easy to forget about anything that's bugging you.

Only potential problem is that, after my Hapkido class on Wednesday, my hamstrings were aching a bit and I plan to go for my second class tomorrow. I'm hoping I'm not going to regret this ride!

First Hapkido Class

Didn't post last night because I went to my first Hapkido class. It was awesome! Really good work-out. Of course, as a white belt once again (the 'picture' at right represents my white belt!), much of the time was spent watching the higher ranking belts do their drills. The idea is that you learn by watching as much as by doing.

Just as I was getting impatient to be up again, our Master paired us with some higher belts and we did some more advanced kicks. Careful what you wish for...I wanted to sit down again, because I was so lost!

Naturally, after 10 years away from martial arts, I'm lacking in flexibility I once had, cardiovascular endurance is much lower, and just the extra coordination needed is lacking. But it will all come with practice. As last time, the students seemed welcoming and many said hi to me as I came in. Another guy was very patient showing me how to tie my belt (I completely forgot how!). Overall, it was a very comfortable environment.

The only bad thing was that I think I tied the drawstring on the lower part of my gi wrong, so I kept having to hitch it up towards the end of class. That kind of sucked! But that was the only bad thing, and I'm really excited about my next class!


One thing I should mention is that keeping this blog may have been a big part of what got me out to check out the school at all. Writing about wanting to get back into martial arts (even in a public forum like this that no one reads but a few people) somehow made me get off my butt more to make it happen. Partly so I could have something to write about, partly because once I wrote it I felt more compelled to make it happen. After the horror of that first school I checked out, I wonder if I would have gone to this school at all without this forum as a motivator.


I suppose blogging can be every bit as positive an activity as keeping those journals all those years was.

Jimmy!

For this post, I am finally getting around to mentioning my partner. I felt kind of guilty for taking this long to mention someone I have shared thirteen wonderful years with (thirteen in August, that is), but then I figured, to a certain degree, blogging is a self-absorbed activity so I can't be too hard on myself!

This painting is one that I did of him a bunch of years ago when I was way into oil painting. He's in his garden, which is his favorite pastime. He grows flowers, trees, grasses, bushes, tomatoes, peppers, raspberries, strawberries, and who knows what else. And he uses the berries and tomatoes to make his own pasta sauce and jams. Yum-my!

He is also extremely talented at just about anything around the house. He redid all the doors and trim in our house. Cut the trim with a mitre saw, stained the trim and doors, and installed them all himself. He made his own archways for in the garden, and a workbench in the garage. In short, he is what is typically called 'handy'. I am what would be called 'not handy'.

Jim is quiet and shy, very much a homebody, while I am loud and outgoing and love trying new things all the time. We're very different in a lot of ways, but we are in perfect sync on the basic things about how to live life and what makes for a good life. He's my best friend and, while we verbally spar all the time, we rarely ever argue, which is pretty odd considering how ornery I can be! He's the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I love him very much.

So, that's right! I'm gay! And I've been in a relationship longer than many straight people. So quit the hating, stop running on about the 'sanctity of marriage', and let us get married if we want to!

Herman Melville - Omoo (1847)

One year after Melville struck gold with Typee, his first novel and a colorful account of life in the Polynesian islands, he published Omoo. Melville's success with Typee, while not stratospheric, was significant enough for his publisher to print Omoo sight unseen. Unfortunately, Omoo is a prime example of the dreaded sophmore slump so feared by artists. Omoo is more of the same subject matter found in Typee, but as we all know lightning rarely strikes twice in the same place. Omoo is a pale imitation of Typee.

The main issue is Omoo lacks a unifying theme, such as Melville's captivity on a tropical island which gave Typee a core. On top of that, Melville tales (or yarns, depending on how much truth you believe are in these pseudo-autobiographical novels) this time out are not nearly as interesting as those found in Typee. I was pretty bored with Omoo for many of its pages.

Melville's writing is just as crisp and immediate as it was in Typee, but this book centers more around Melville's wanderings in Tahiti than it does on Polynesian life. Other sailors and the colonial towns are really at the forefront of this book. There's more commentary on the missionary movement which may be interesting from a cultural standpoint but it just doesn't come alive.

I found some of the items Melville touches on interesting from time to time, but the overall travelogue feel of this book - which Typee largely managed to avoid - means Melville can't develop any of them. For example, a Polynesian joins Melville on a ship as they leave the Marquesas, and this man's homesickness is touching. However, the character just vanishes at some point, and I don't even remember where or why. Another example is the author's meeting with Pomaree, the Queen of Tahiti. There's a big build up to this meeting, but the pay-off is a drab let-down.

Omoo was a modest success for Melville due to it being enough like his first book to lure readers back for a retread. Most modern readers should probably read Typee and skip Omoo.

Checking Out Martial Arts Schools Is Not Fun

About ten years ago, I took karate at the Japanese Cultural Center in Chicago. It was a great experience, and lately I've been considering getting back into martial arts.

Shopping around for schools here in the burbs, though, has been depressing. Some schools are only about advancing 'Brandon' and 'Britney' even if they stink, to make sure mommy and daddy keep shelling out bucks.

Then there's the 'tournament schools'. While I admit it takes athletic talent to do gymnastic stunts, these students are no better than show dogs jumping through hoops for applause. Some of them lack even the basic respect of wearing their uniforms properly, and who thinks putting corporate logos on the back of a uniform shows respect for the martial arts? These instructors should be ashamed of themselves; it's sad that students put so much energy into something and get none of the benefits.

The first school I actually visited was a mixed martial arts school run by a guy who came on like a used car salesman with a lemon to unload. At one point, he showed me a statue in the corner and said, "I just got that Buddha statue. Cool, huh?" Ick. I googled him later and found he had a criminal record and once belonged to a school that tied advancement to the amount of money you shelled out. Gotta be very vigilant, even in 'family-friendly Naperville'.

Yesterday, I checked out a Hapkido school and I'm encouraged. There was good energy, a great diversity of students, and the class was small. The instructor was terrific, and the work-out he put his students through looked challenging and fun. The students seemed friendly to each other, and clearly knew their stuff. I spoke to the instructor afterwards, and he suggested I come back to speak with the Master before signing up. And of course he pointed out that karate and hapkido are pretty different in their intent, which I'm fine with naturally. Even after this positive experience, I'm a bit nervous. My experiences so far really have me on my guard!

Illusion

poem 1 from The Ancient Elm

I know it's all illusion
somewhere in my mind,
delusions bleeding through the air
on wings of empty sky.

Personas wrapped around myself,
my path is doomed to err.
Running through a universe
I know is never there.

And every vision chased
will only dim my sight.
A thousand fingers beckoning,
and none of them are right.


I typicaly object to writers explaining their work. Art should stand on it's own, but this is my blog so I'll do what I want. Anyway, for the first poem of The Ancient Elm, I wanted to set up the cycle by introducing the speaker as someone who, like so many of us, is caught up in the drama (mostly self-inflicted), emptiness, and confusion of everyday life. I also used the rhyme and structure to indicate a kind of rigidity or prison. Illusion is a Zen concept that suggests this prison is self-imposed and comes from an unhappy illusionary world we each create around ourselves to the degree we are not able to control our minds and find wisdom.

The First Week

It's been a week, and I've posted everyday! This is getting to be like keeping a journal, which is exactly what I had hoped for. Well, this would make for a pretty poor post for the day so I'll have to make sure I put something else up.

The Ancient Elm

While I was on the first Pete Retreat (see earlier post), I put together the seeds for a cycle of poetry that became The Ancient Elm. The Ancient Elm started off as a kind of poetic expression of the process I experienced by going on the Pete Retreat and semi-cutting myself off from 'civilization', but eventually it got very layered and covered a bunch of things I was interested in at the time.

In addition to the Pete Retreat experience, I was exploring Zen, meditating with koans, and learning to control my mind. I was also approaching 40 and - while I certainly didn't regret it - I felt a need to reevaluate myself as a 'man' and not a 'young man'. I was really obsessed with male imagery (wizards, knights, emperors) and reading a lot of male-oriented literature (Le Morte de Arthur, the Iliad, Beowulf, Viking sagas, etc.). So there was all sorts of personal stuff going on and interesting inputs simmering in my brain. The perfect hatching ground for creativity!

The Ancient Elm ended up being about coming of age (not teen-age!), but transforming yourself from potential (a boy) into an actuality (a man). It's about becoming powerful though wisdom, but yet also embracing your physical strength...and some of the traps that lie along the way as you become your own man. Celebrating 'guyness', I guess. I'll start posting the poems, but here are the titles of the poems that make up The Ancient Elm:

Illusion
Wizard Of The Wood
Zazen
Siegecraft
Imperial Triptych
a. The Court Of The Sun
b. The Twisted Myth
c. Emperor Of Thorns
High Priest To Heretic
New Moon
The Myth Continues...

Herman Melville - Typee (1846)

I love reading classic literature. To me, if it hasn't lasted at least fifty years then why take the risk! I think I am the most happy when I am sitting in my living room all alone with a nice hardcover book, a glass of red wine, dark chocolate in easy reach, and a nice breeze blowing in the window. Bliss!

Right now, I'm on a Herman Melville kick. I'm reading his books in order of when he wrote them. Last year, I did a James Fenimore Cooper run and read all five books of the Leatherstocking Tales. We'll see how long I make it with Melville.

Typee was Melville's first book, and it became an immediate success because of his colorful handling of his (arguably) real adventures after deserting a whaleship in the South Seas and living with the natives for a few months. I'm pretty sure that, were it written today, Typee would be classified as 'narrative fiction', meaning he took his actual experiences but molded them a bit to communicate a larger idea he had in mind.

Melville's theme in Typee is the contrast between so-called civilized Europeans and the 'savages' of the South Sea islands. What I love about reading books from this long ago is that they can be a window to a time and place that is completely lost. Even though Melville can't explain many of the Typees' customs, it's fascinating to read his account and see a 'peep' of how they lived before the incursion of Europeans. While the plot is a little thin, Melville switches subjects quick enough so that you don't get bored and there is enough of a plot to keep this from turning into a travelogue.

I enjoyed Typee a lot. After I read it, I went onto amazon.com to see what other people thought and I had to laugh. There were some Melville groupies on there talking about how 'deep' and 'symbolic' Typee was. I think sometimes people think that just because Melville wrote Moby Dick that everything he wrote was some complex meditation on nature and the universe. I guess academic types have to do what they can to make it in the publish-or-perish world.

Anyway, I recommend the book as the topic is just as interesting today as it was to the people in Melville's time who made Typee - and the author - famous overnight.

Chrysalis of Fire

As I mention in my profile, I am a writer. I have had poetry and short stories published. Although not published in hard copy, I have published a science fiction novel called 'Chrysalis of Fire' through Kindle. Here's the synopsis from Amazon.com:

"Two centuries in the future, a military power called the Nexus controls a war-ravaged Earth. Science is treason, and the scientists and engineers (the 'Galileans') are exiled to harsh off-world settlements.

"Commander Aaron Drake thrived in the battle-hardened world of the Nexus - despite his scientific background - until the Nexus ordered him to destroy a mysterious probe that might represent first contact with aliens.

"Caught between ruthless Nexus agents and dangerous Galilean raiders, the probe leads Drake from a battle on the pirate settlement of Vesta to the Galileans' base on Ganymede, where he learns the truth about the Nexus, the Galileans, and his own past.

"But Drake's battle for survival really begins when the Nexus and Galileans are forced to work together after decades of enmity. As the Nexus and Galileans race to a final showdown with each other - and a power that could destroy humanity - Drake realizes he has to choose whether he is a man of war or science."

Writing a novel was something that just sorta happened, and it was a long process. While I may not sell many copies on Kindle (given that this post is pretty much the extent of my marketing efforts), I'm still very proud that I brought such a huge project to completion. A novel is a huge canvas to fill, and it was a lot of fun. Check it out at:

http://www.amazon.com/Chrysalis-of-Fire-ebook/dp/B0014CS4A6/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1243982969&sr=8-2