Opposite of Regret

Lately, I've had this phrase mulling about in my head: "When I look at you, I see the opposite of regret." This phrase isn't direct to anyone in particular.  A friend of mine recently got me thinking about writing poetry, and this phrase came into my head. I haven't had a chance to work it into anything yet. But I wonder what it means. Have you ever had that happen to you? You'll say or think something and have no idea what it means? So, instead of writing a poem around it, I've spent a good bit of time trying to break the phrase down.  I'll post what I've thought of so far, as well as work as I type, so that perhaps I will come to some conclusion before the end of this post.
First comes the phrase as a whole.  The question is, do I mean that the person I'm looking at feels the opposite of regret? Or do I feel the opposite of regret in regards to him/her/it? Or, is this individual "the opposite of regret" personified?  (I'd love it if it were that last one—it's very much my style). Somehow, I suspect it is the first.  That's the impression I got when it first came to me.  But it really could be any of these.  I suppose it will ultimately be determined if I ever do write that poem.
Second comes the really interesting part, because I'm utterly clueless about it.  As far as I can tell, these are the options for what "Opposite of Regret" could mean (in the second person, because I feel like it):

1. You not only do not regret anything you've done, but you embrace it.  Every decision you've made is looked upon fondly and with excitement.
2. You feel the same way that people feel when they say they regret something, but you feel that way about the future.  It is a sort of infinite pessimism, knowing that the future is going to turn out in a way that disappoints you.
3. You feel absolute optimism and joy about the future, combining 1 and 2.
4. Something I haven't thought of at all.

Personally, I like option 1 the most. It's an incredibly positive thought.  However, if I were writing to someone about them feeling good, it seems odd to even bring up regret.  The inversion certainly makes a difference, but not enough. Besides which, I feel too melancholic about the phrase for it to be this.  Or, for that matter, option 3, which I didn't care for anyway.  It seems to me that if something is the opposite of something, it only gets inverted on one axis.  If on the temporal axis, the emotional axis should stay put, and if the emotion is inverted, it should stay in the same time.
That leaves 2 or 4.  2 Doesn't feel quite right.  I like it a lot. It's very evocative.  But it seems off. Also, it seems complicated in a way that I'll need to spend more of the poem explaining it.  So perhaps it is 4. Would it be dishonest of me to write a poem with only a vague sense of what this thing is? When the whole poem will clearly be about this phrase, to one degree or another, can I really leave it in a way that tells the audience nothing? Is the confusion part of its meaning?

It seems I'm no closer to a conclusion than I was at the beginning, save a few eliminated possibilities.  In consolation, I offer you this picture of me in a bow tie.

Happy Cheap Chocolate Day, everyone!

Rebranding

So, at one point, I changed the name of this blog to "The Gadfly." It seemed appropriate, in part because I was a philosopher, and it was a semi-fun reference to Socrates. The bigger part of it, however, is that I was trying to invent myself as a sort of reformer, decrying the wrongs I saw around me.  I just looked at the world and thought "maybe I can't do better, but I can at least point out where there's room for improvement."  I still do, sometimes, but that's not really who I am these days.

For these reasons, I've renamed my blog "The Raven's Writing Desk." In all honesty, I doubt I'm the first person to use this title.  It is, of course, a reference to Lewis Carroll's impossible riddle. It is also based in the fact that I'm hoping to do more writing about writing (which, of course, will necessitate me actually writing from time to time).  Lastly, it is to more publicly acknowledge myself as "the Raven."

What do I mean by this? Well, have you ever played that game where you and your friends try to pick an animal that suits you? Of course, everyone needs their own animal: you can't all share.  For a long time, I thought of 'my animal' as the fox.  Problem being, so did a lot of other people with whom I associated.  And of course, the majority of them fit the bill better than I did, for one reason or another.   A couple years ago, however, someone pointed me toward another animal that I felt fit me even better.

Ravens, like Foxes, are tricksters in mythology. Not necessarily malicious, just wily and clever: attributes I prize.  Their color scheme fits me better (though I don't wear nearly as much black as I did in High School) and the bird thing seems right somehow too.  Shortly after the assignment of Raven, I actually designed a crest for myself, using heraldic symbols.  My coat of arms. A Raven, flying upwards in front of a blue sunburst, all on a field of white.  Based on my research, Black can indicate constancy, Blue represents truth and loyalty, while white represents peace and sincerity. All of these are virtues for which I strive. The sun can represent a whole host of things, and the Raven, my personal symbol, represents Divine Providence.  One could take this in a very arrogant sense. It could be me trying to claim that I am destined for greatness. I'll be honest: there are few things that would make me happier.  But it's not what it means here.  I depend on it.  I need God's providence. Without Him and His plan, I'm lost.  The Raven reminds me of that.

So, that's my reasoning.  Oh, that, and Ravens just look cool to me.

Magic, In Tiers

I have long thought about magic. What it is, what it isn't, how it may or must not work.  Some months ago, perhaps even a year in my past, I came up with this system of ranking magic.  I haven't come up with a final name for it yet, but for now, it's "The Tiers of Magic."  The principle is that there are three basic levels of magic, and all possible magical systems fit into one of these three. I both believe that every account of magic in the real world fits into one of these systems, and would probably overtly use these categories overtly if I ever get around to writing my own fantasy story.

First things first though; we need a definition. Going to Merriam-Webster, I found a few definitions. I prefer to use 2a of the noun form, which is as follows: "an extraordinary power or influence seemingly from a supernatural source." This works nicely for my purposes. Not too vague, not too narrow. Now, on to my categories.

FIRST MAGIC
Also called "Deep Magic" or sometimes "True Magic"
This is the magic that supersedes the natural laws to which we have become accustomed.  Most fantasy magic fits into this category. I also believe that miracles and dark magic in the real world fit into this: miracles because that's what the laws are for, dark magic because no power can break those rules.  Many of my Christian Brethren take offense at the idea of calling miracles "magic," but I have always felt that Miracles are, strictly speaking, the ultimate example of true magic. The reason I call this "Deep Magic" is because of a passage in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, where the White Witch calls on the magic that made the world to demand blood, and Aslan *spoilers* calls on the deeper magic from before the world was made to redeem it.
The idea behind deep magic is that you appeal to higher laws. For example, the law of man says that you can't crush another man's head. The law of gravity says, "yes you can, you just need a big enough rock and a roof from which to drop it." This does not mean there won't be consequences in the lower laws (you'll still go to prison for head-smashery). It just means that the lower laws don't control the higher laws.  Here is an abridged hierarchy of laws: Laws of Man are inferior to Inherent Moral Laws are inferior to* Physical Laws are inferior to Logical Laws are inferior to (or perhaps the same as) the Nature of God. Nothing can truly defy God's nature: you can only rebel against it, just as jumping in the air doesn't break the law of gravity.
For atheists, skeptics, and the like, this category is entirely fictional. But I am not at all an atheist, hardly a skeptic (in the philosophical sense), and very little like either of them.

*Note, this is a hierarchy of influence, not of quality.  I consider moral law to be superior in quality to the Physical and Logical Laws.

SECOND MAGIC
Also called "Science," "Illusion," or "Prestidigitation," along with a host of other names
This is the magic that abides by the natural laws, and seeks to go no further. It exploits little-known quirks of perception and reality to dupe and amaze.  For those who think "science is just magic, sufficiently explained," I concede to you the Second Magic.  It is my least favorite system, when used on its own.  It saddens me.  It feels like a cheat when someone shows you something wonderful, and then you find out there's very little wonder in it at all. And in fiction, save perhaps Science-Fiction, it has no place. We are forced to live in a world where no one accepts real magic: why would you create a world that is the same in this way? Still, this is the magic most people see. It's the awe of a meal cooked in under a minute in a small box without the use of fire, and the spectacle of pulling a quarter out of a child's ear. Some might call these things two different categories, but I do not. If science is a type of magic, it is nothing more than a trick, and I will say no more on the subject at this time.

THIRD MAGIC
Also called "Chaos Magic," "Dark Magic," or "Zeroth Magic"
This is the magic that seeks to break all the rules. As I've already said, I group real dark magic into the category of First Magic, but many fantasy writers, in describing evil magic, talk about an unbound force that obeys nothing and is beholden to no rules.  This is ludicrous. If such a thing existed, the universe would not, as it could simply move through creation and undo it. What's more, it would be uncontrollable, so I honestly can't fathom why anyone would even want to use it, as they could never direct it.  Still, it seems very compatible with the aims of an evil wizard, does it not?  This is a category that is often used, but I do not think should exist, even in a fantasy world, because I prefer worlds that are internally consistent, and I do not see how any world where the Third Magic is real could be so.
As for why I call it both "Third Magic" and "Zeroth Magic," is that there are two ways to order the magics. The one I prefer is in order of power.  First Magic is most powerful because it need not obey the standard laws of physics. Second Magic can do amazing things, but not that. Third Magic, I do not acknowledge as possible, and therefore it can accomplish nothing. It would, however, be possible to group the magical types according to how many rules they follow, in which case this last magic follows none, and therefore is prior even to First Magic. The term "zeroth," I found in the wikipedia article about Asimov's Three Laws, and the less-well-known Zeroth Law.

I heartily invite comments on how to improve my system for fantasy writing purposes, or serious discussions of the real-world ideas I expressed. I will not honor inflammatory or insulting remarks in regards to my beliefs regarding miracles, magic, or God, however.

Writers' Ownership

I was recently reading an article about incredibly dangerous fictional characters, both good and bad, who also happened to be gay. The main article is here. It's an incredibly interesting article. One thing disturbed me, though, in the entry of a superhero named "Shatterstar":

​Shatterstar has been a member of X-Force and X-Factor. His past is clouded in mystery: maybe he's Longshot's son from the future? Maybe he is a genetic construct built by Mojo? Maybe he just really likes padded white outfits? Shatterstar has always had a confusing, 1990's style X-Men origin, but he's constantly been devoted to his recently depowered teammate, Rictor. Shatterstar's creator, Rob Liefeld, was not happy that writer Peter David explicitly made Rictor and Shatterstar a gay couple. But as Peter David was quoted as saying, ""I understand that some parents have the same reaction. They were responsible for their children's first appearances and, when informed of their sexual persuasion, firmly declare it's impossible, they can't be gay."

My problem is this: writers are not like parents. Writers create the entire character, from the dimples in their cheeks, to the repressed memory of losing their childhood playmate, even to their sexuality. In comics, however, if a new writer takes over, they can do pretty much whatever they want as long as an editor approves. This is a travesty.

Now, I'll admit: I've never heard of Shatterstar before this article, and I don't care much about him now. What I do care about, however, is that the original creator had expressed Shatterstar's sexuality, and it was NOT homosexual or bisexual. Wikipedia (yes, yes, I know—not a reliable source) even says that he was originally asexual: a far more interesting character. Rob Liefeld was not saying, as Peter David suggested "he can't be gay." He was declaring, from the creative perch atop which all writers of fiction rightfully sit "He IS NOT gay."

Let's look at this from another perspective: that of Albus Dumbledore from JK Rowling's popular Harry Potter series. When Rowling first made the announcement that he was gay, I responded "You can't do that! You never established the character as gay in the series, so he isn't!" But I was wrong. She didn't need to establish his character in series, because she established it before that. Dumbledore is her character, and if she wants to give him a fetish for cans of cheese-whiz, she can (and you could hardly expect her to put THAT in a children's book). So why assume that if she didn't overtly state it, she didn't intend it. He'ck, why even require any kind of statement.

When a writer makes up a story, the lives in that story are wholly dependent on that author. Every thought, action, and inclination comes from the mind of their creator. Writers hold their characters in an even tighter grip than God does His creation, because no matter how much people talk about characters taking on a life of their own, they do not possess free will of their own. Even if it had NEVER come up, Dumbledore would have been gay. Because his creator wrote him that way.

Twenty Three Years of Madness

So, yesterday was my twenty-third birthday. It was somewhat interesting. I don't like this blog to be about my life so much as it is about my thoughts, but birthdays tend to make people think about their lives, so I'll call this post a toss-up.

Two days ago, I took my guitar out of its case for the first time in months and decided to genuinely practice. (For those who don't know, I don't ever claim to play the guitar — I practice. I'll call it playing when I can goof off and still not sound like crap.) I spent a while working, but then I remembered that my fingers were no longer calloused and decided to stop. With luck, I'll stay with it this time and end up actually playing the guitar.

Also recently, I started telling a "Choose Your Own Adventure" story on my facebook, run by popular vote. My hope is that this will motivate me to keep up with writing more (and possibly increase my audience, and provide me with feedback — lots of pluses to this plan).

I could go on, but I honestly feel this is better left short and sweet. I feel like I'm being more productive and responsible. Now if only I could find a job...

Writing... or the Lack Thereof

I haven't been writing. I've thought about writing an awful lot. I have a stack of ideas for this blog thicker than my wrist, but I haven't been using them. I've done some pre-writing for a story I'm working on, but that project is so massive it'll be well over a year before it sees the light of day--at least. A large part of what's holding me back is probably that: the daunting proportions of the things I hope to accomplish.

Another huge detour has been the World of Warcraft trial. My friend recommended I try it, and try it I did. The account just expired today, and already I've done thorough cleaning and read half of a book I've been dying to reread (My Name is Asher Lev), as well as go to dinner and attend the Christmas Eve service at my Church with my family. Now, I'm blogging for the first time in nearly a month. All this, and I didn't wake up until noon today. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the game. And what prewriting I've gotten done for the story was, in large part, triggered by playing--it put me in a very creative frame of mind. I still haven't decided if buying the game is worth the cost, particularly with the constant influx of money it requires (subscriptions every month and, if they continue the current trend, an expansion pack every couple of years). But all of that is beside the point.

The point is, I need to write more. I want to write for the rest of my life. As a living, if at all possible. But I've been neglecting it. And talents don't like to be neglected. Trust me. So somehow, I'm going to need to write more, and more often. That said, I only have a couple more days of internet access in which I can update this blog before I visit relatives and have irregular internet access. Still, I suppose there are always word processors. Or, if I'm absolutely desperate... PEN and PAPER *shudder*.

Enough kidding around. Merry Christmas, everybody.

A Lighter Post

I'm taking a break from my criticism to repost a short essay I just wrote for a class. I hope you enjoy it:

This morning, I started thinking about the question “where do your ideas come from” when I saw one of the men from my dorm pick up a giant foam sandwich from the curb, where it had presumably been left for trash pickup. This sandwich had been sitting in the hall of our dormitory for some weeks, and I could not imagine why anyone would bring it back inside. Seeing the opportunity to ask a delightfully bizarre question, I addressed him, saying “May I ask why you just took the giant sandwich inside?” He was entertained vowed to quote me on Facebook, and explained that he planned to cut up the foam for use in his room.

What occurred to me is that we probably see dozens of things almost as strange as this every day, but don't consciously process them. While the image of a man in a camouflage jacket carrying a giant sandwich under his arm is unusual enough to have captured my attention, had I seen it only out of the corner of my eye, I may not have been aware of it. However, this could still have prompted me to write a story about giant food or tiny people. Alternatively, I might have written an essay about world hunger or about gluttony. I might have written a poem about food, hunger, or fullness. All of these things come from this single experience of a man with a giant sandwich. It leaves me wondering just how many such experiences we almost have that lead us to write what we do. So, while I cannot call it a universal or eternal answer. if someone were to ask me today where my ideas come from, I would almost certainly respond, “From the corner of my eye.”

Self-Context and Received Texts

I am currently taking a writing class, and I am proud enough of this assigned journal to post it. Let me know what you think. (Sorry if it seems a little... off. I relied heavily on terms that came up in class.)

In many ways, self-context functions as a limiting agent in all texts we encounter (I should specify that while we established the many possible meanings of 'text' in class, I hear refer primarily to written text). No one can truly understand that which is outside one's own realm of experience, and the effect is even worse if one has an experience which seems similar to the text, but which is in fact quite different. When one knows nothing of the topic being written, the context is lacking, but if personal context leads us down a false trail, we not only fail to understand the author, we fail to understand our failure.

In other ways, this same self-context serves as an invaluable helper. This is most apparent when we share experience with the author because it shows us something we can relate to, but may say it better than we have, or vary just enough that it expands our experience by building onto our existing context. This building of context is a primary means of making ourselves bigger people—people more worth knowing—who may in turn share their experiences with others and help those others to become bigger people themselves. Through this gradual widening of experience, any member of the human race who interacts with others is advanced. This, as I see it, is the primary mode of operation for self-context and any text we receive.

There is, however, yet one more contextual effect that is as much greater than shared experience as a false similarity is worse than a lack of connection. This highest effect of context is when the recipient of a text has an experience wholly unlike that on which the author drew when communicating, but which still has a real connection to the text. Whether the recipient and author shared the author's intended experience no longer seems necessary, because the text begins to take on a life of its own. The recipient can then have a burst of truly original thought—this may, in fact, be the only time this can ever happen in real life—because the idea came neither from the reader nor the writer, but was formed through their exchange. This process is in many ways like the bearing of children, with the author siring an idea, but the new concept being carried to term and birthed by the recipient of the text.

It could be there are other ways that a context could function than these I have listed, but these seem the most primal. Either the context helps or hinders understanding. Hindering could be as little as a full stop or as much as a wrong-mindedness, and helping could be so small as to understand or so great as to conceive of something truly new. In my context, these forms exhaust all possible options.

Getting Ideas

You know what's ironic? Six days in the average week, I sit around and read, listen to music, and hope against hope one of the job applications I put in will finally call me back. On Sunday, when I was at Church, my thoughts randomly created at least five different ideas for blogging that would have provided ample reflection and spawned a moderately lengthy and (I hope) interesting post each. But I forgot all of them by the time I got home. I've tried to think of them, but no luck. Admittedly, if I went out and did things, that would almost certainly increase the number of things I had to write about, but having no money, it's hard to justify a night on the town. He'ck, it's hard to even justify driving with gas prices as they are. But I won't get into that rant, especially since I'm fulfilling the "writing about writer's block" cliche to one degree or another. I really should write more, especially now that I've decided it's pretty much what I want to do...

Return to Blogging

So... apparently, I have a Blog again, now. I deleted my Xanga after a long time of inconsistent posts, but I doubt that will happen here. The combination of a good friend being disappointed by my lack of blog and my realization that I can link blogspot directly to my Google account have inspired me to start again (All hail my Google Overlords!)

Anyway, since I'm new here, I should introduce myself. At present, I am between my Junior and Senior years of college. All attempts at finding a summer job have failed to pay off thus far, which is particularly disappointing because I'm hoping to move to Los Angeles in either January or May of next year (depending on some questions of schooling). I am an aspiring--though not particularly prolific--writer, and an avid reader. I confess with pride that I am a comic book nerd, most recently my focus being Superman (Green Lantern was my hero-of-choice for years).

Now that that's all in order, I'll take my leave until something interesting strikes me.