Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Why blog about Fahrenheit 451 on my political blog? The 1953 Sci-Fi novel is about government control over citizens lives. Author Ray Bradbury was 20 when he wrote it. A writer who loves reading and writing, he wrote about a future with books being forbidden. He points out that the law did not come from the top down, it was the people themselves who started the censorship and eventual doom of books. Much of what he wrote or pondered via his novel is stuff I have said myself. In the words of a song I did not like, because I did not understand it, "teachers leave those kids alone"~"we don't need no thought control".

Some adults never outgrow that early 'brainwashing' done to us by church and state. Parents and older relatives to a lesser degree. Most parents do not teach a child to put their hand over their heart and repeat words that have zero meaning to them, pledging loyalty to a country. Gee, what does a 5 year old know about what a country is? Parents do however baptise a child into a religion. Catholic Godparents recite the infants vow for them, promising to worship a God. Then it is off to Religious instructions. Being a child one simply believes what those big people tell them to be true. Can mess up a person's entire lifetime. Acting on blind beliefs. So, yes, I liked Fahrenheit 451. (And if I type it enough may learn how to spell fahreheit without looking at the cover of the book.)

Before my nephew's wife trashed my journals, had this quote in one of them:

"We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over."

I used to believe that. Not sure if I still do. "Kindness in giving creates love," might be another one.

"All's well that ends well" is a common phrase. Bradbury quotes it as "All's well that is well in the end." I think it makes more sense, how Bradury has it.

I like this idea:

"Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you're there. It does not matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away."

Bradbury notes in "Coda" (part of the Afterword, I think):

"For, let's face it, digression is the soul of wit. Take philosophic asides away from Dante, Milton or Hamlet's father's ghost and what stays is dry bones. Laurence Sterne said it once: Digressions incontestably, are the sunshine, the life, the soul of reading! Take them out and one cold eternal winter would reign in every page."

So often as I ramble, I start to type, "but I digress". I do not do it, because many bloggers or AC article writers use the words. Instead, I start over; at the point where I started, um, digressing. Kind of like why I ended up with three "Fahrenheit 451" blog posts. Perhaps I should just write a book review for AC or Masbiz instead.

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