“The Power of Decisions”

December 8, 2011

My teeth are miniature mountains

The valleys running deep

Stained with sweets and treats and greets

“Hello,” and a solemn repeat

I am under the influence

Of having reached my fifteenth birthday

Hormonal

Hardly normal

Uncontrolable

Oh, no, I’m growing up.

Why would I let you choose for me

A path with which I don’t agree?

I’ll pick my way to steer my feet

Know that I’ll never retreat

Cause I am not athletic

And I’m scared white of the sea

But I

Don’t need

Protection

From a person

Who

Will

Never

Know

Me.

My future is in

my

own

hands.

Categories: I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

The Eater of Flowers by Hades

December 6, 2011

A story I wrote last year, but never thought to post until now.

Welcome to the Growing Land. The sun is high, and the earth is rich. The Growing Land BLOOMS. Not just during the spring like the Bright Land or the Red Land, but year round. The trees drip flower petals like clouds drip rain. No matter the season, there are at least two dozen different types of blossoms you can name, and probably twice as many you can’t. Welcome to the Land of Constant Spring.

But where there is wealth, there also is greed. Meet the Eater of Flowers. The Eater of Flowers lives in a cave, and ventures out once a year on New Year’s Eve. The Eater of Flowers is ancient, so ancient, and so hungry for the people that live amongst the blooms and blossoms and endless garlands. So hungry.

Once a year, on the night before New Year’s Eve, the people of the Growing Land select the best of their youth: the strongest, cleverest, most promising young man or woman to face the Eater of Flowers. None had ever returned.

This year, it was Chess’s turn. He was not looking forward to it. The walk itself was enough to kill, he thought. The path wound up the mountain, up and up, and up, between the flowering trees and bushes. And at the top, there was the cave. He could see it now: dark, but glowing dimly with some faint illumination.

At fifty feet, the smell of was cloying. At twenty, it smothered. Now, at the very lip of the cave, Chess was positively retching from the reek of flowers. Sweet odors wafted from the cavern’s dark recesses. Holding a cloth to his face, Chess edged into the cave.   

Hello Chess, said the Eater of Flowers. I have been waiting for you a very long time. Suncycles. Mooncycles. And you are here, today. Chess didn’t say anything. Cat got your tongue? I had hoped for some conversation. Chess was too busy to respond. When you’re face-to-face with the legendary Enemy of Your People, it is hard to engage in witty banter. This wa especially true when you were trying to draw a dagger from your belt without being noticed.

“Er…”

Er? It purred in a voice like rose petals. Er? You are inarticulate, and that is displeasing. Put the dagger away. Just because I only have one eye does not mean that I cannot see.

Chess scowled. The dagger clattered to the cave’s floor. Good boy, Chess. I don’t like games. Unless, of course I win them. I am a poor loser, you know. But, that is of no consequence. Today, I want to talk about your future. More specifically, your future in the next five minutes. The Eater of Flowers straightened its great, tree-trunk legs, and took a step toward Chess. It was directly between him and the mouth of the cave. He could smell its breath, faintly scented with honeysuckle. You see, Chess, every time the Growing Land sends a champion to face me, the same thing happens. I crack open their bones and suck out their soul flowers. Do you think this will play out any differently, Chess?

Chess did.

“I do.” he said.

And why is that? the rose petal voice was very low and sweet. Above all, it was close. Chess took a breath. The smell of flowers was overwhelming.

“Because I am different.”

He ducked under the Cyclops’s arm, and hurtled out of the mouth of the cave. Chess wasn’t brave, but he certainly wasn’t an idiot. He ran away, down the mountain path, dooming the Growing Land to another fifty years of terror.

Chess changed his name to Dreufus Duckweed, grew a beard and moved away to the North. There, he won an inn in a game of dice, got married, had five kids, and lived to the ripe, old age of ninety-seven.

The End

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Short Stories, WORST.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

In Praise of Selfishness by Hades

December 6, 2011

What are virtues? Hands shoot up across the classroom.

“Kindness.”

“Cleanliness.”

“Being thoughtful of others.”

“Being nice.”

And what are some vices? Again, hands rise like mushrooms after a heavy rain.

“Slovenliness. Wait, that’s a word, right?”

“Unkindness.”

“Rudeness.”

“Selfishness.”

I raise my hand.

“I disagree. Selfishness in not a vice. It’s a virtue.”

And the objections begin.

In our culture, the idea that selfishness is a vice is deeply ingrained in our collective psyche. Small children are reminded ‘not to be selfish’. When they are a little older, they learn the second half of this lesson: one ought to be selfless. I was taught this lesson by adults since before I could think. But today, I am going to question this creed. Today, I am going to be selfish.

It is generally undisputed that selflessness and altruism are good, and one ought to work for the benefit of society. Although all of these values are slightly different, they boil down to essentially the same idea: one’s individual needs and wants are not as important as the needs and wants of other people. This value is demonstrated frequently in modern culture.

One obvious example of the promotion of selflessness is modern day fictional heroes. For example, most superheroes, though motivated in part by a need for personal revenge, are fixated on saving people they have never met, usually at immense personal cost. Often, the hero will question their obsessive quest, but come to the conclusion that the greater good is more valuable than their individual needs. In real life, the individuals a society reveres are often those who are considered selfless. For example, firefighters, soldiers, doctors, and activists are often considered to be altruistic heroes.

Emphasis on selflessness and the insignificance of the individual is also found in Christianity, and other popular religions. In fact, Christianity’s most sacred individual, Jesus Christ, is worshiped in part because he ‘died for our sins’. In diverse religions, one is required to humble one’s self before god, exalting this powerful being while giving up one’s pride.

A potential counter example of this is Buddha. Although he was born into a royal family, he abandoned his responsibility to grow up to rule the kingdom, and his obligations to his family to pursue his goal of enlightenment. 1 His actions can be construed as selfish because he put his own personal quest before duty to other people.

Finally, social interactions place high value on people who are selfless. Those who are willing to sacrifice their individual wants to make the group happy are often well liked. This is especially true of those who ignore their need for solitude, privacy, and personal space.

Many of these examples of selflessness may seem purely good. After all, what could possibly be problematic about a personal philosophy that results in societal acceptance, as well as the positive feelings associated with doing nice things for others? Ultimately, the question is this: does one value societal acceptance over personal integrity? Most would argue that these options are not mutually exclusive. I, on the other hand, feel differently.

Contrary to what I have been taught, I believe that selflessness results in lack of self and lack of identity, while selfishness allows one to become independent, pursue one’s goals, and find true joy. When one is selfless, one is working for the happiness of others before one pursues one’s own goals. However, when one is working for the good of another selfless person, and that selfless person is working for your good, it is ultimately more efficient to put one’s own needs first. After all, you know better than anyone else what you need and want.

When I promote selfishness, I do not mean that one ought to work solely for one’s self at the intentional detriment of others. I merely suggest that one ought to pursue his or her goals, and seek that which brings him or her real happiness, not instant gratification. Essentially, I am talking about long term life goals, not hedonism. Whether this true joy comes from water color painting, or tinkering with car engines, one ought to do what makes him or her honestly happy. One would think that pursuing these goals with a passion would not result in societal rejection.

Although these cases are somewhat rare, there are examples of selfish heroes in literature. The best example of a selfish literary hero is Howard Roark, from Ayn Rand’s novel The Fountainhead 2. In this book, Rand discusses her philosophy on individuality, using Roark as the ultimate example of the independent man. Although I disagree with some points she makes, the novel is an excellent demonstration of the true meanings of selfishness and selflessness. Other literary examples of the selfish hero include Yossarian from Catch-22 3, and the title character of Jane Eyre 4.

In addition, many historical heroes epitomize selfishness. This is especially true of now famous artists. Vincent Van Gogh is an excellent example of a selfish figure from history. Although people disliked his paintings, he did not change his personal vision to better suit the popular style. Modifying his paintings to be more acceptable would have brought happiness to the people who saw them, and it would have financially improved his life. However, Van Gogh pursued his artistic goals. This quest ultimately resulted in his insanity and eventual suicide due to the social pressures working against him. 5

Interestingly, many times selfishness or selflessness is merely a matter of perspective. For example, great artists who sacrifice everything for their art can be seen in one of two lights: they are selfish because they pursue their own goals regardless of everyone else, or they are selfless because they give up their personal happiness to make incredible creations for humanity to enjoy.

There are immense social pressures exerted against those who are truly pursuing their own goals. Others will attempt to coerce, intimidate, or frighten them into conforming to social expectations of selflessness. If only they would compromise, just a little! If only they would tweak their artistic vision so that it would appeal to more people! However, the truly selfish will not sacrifice their personal integrity for anything. It is the driving force in their lives. Although the world frowns, those who are selfish will follow their own path.

I cannot promote selfishness as a way to write laws or govern a country. It is, instead, a way for an individual to live their life. It is the pursuit of personal goals, goals that truly matter, despite the disapproval of others. It is the unwillingness to settle for anything less than real, honest joy that comes from the actualization of one’s inner vision. Selfishness is the realization of the self.

In my class, I argued until the teacher cut us off. Perhaps there were one or two people who quietly agreed with me. Perhaps some people doubted, for a moment, the dogma of selflessness. Perhaps not. Nevertheless, I walked out of the classroom feeling warm inside. I walked out with dignity.

1. Rupert Gethin. (1998). The Foundations of Buddhism. Oxford University Press.

2. Rand, Ayn. (1943) The Fountainhead. Random House Inc.

3. Heller, Joseph. (1955) Catch-22. Random House Inc.

4. Bronte, Charlotte. (1847) Jane Eyre. Random House Inc.

5. Unknown. Unknown. Vincent van Gogh: Biography. Retrieved from http://www.vangoghgallery.com/misc/bio.html.

 

Categories: Creative Nonfiction, Must Reads, Nonfiction.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,