New Post, New School, Old Bradbury

Well it has clearly been far too long since I’ve posted anything here. Helped by the theft of my laptop way back almost 6 months ago now (not long after I downloaded wordpress no less) and plenty of distractions. Now however the summer is fading away and the new school year is approaching, full with enough stress that my head seems far too full and I don’t quite have the words to empty it out. Perhaps if I just get started here however I will slowly discover that it’s leaking and maybe I can keep the pressure at bay for a little longer :)

Ray Bradbury’s birthday was yesterday, while there was one not long after he passed away last June, this seems to be the first one that has been taken account of, two months seemingly being too short of a period to start talking about him again the last time around. While Bradbury doesn’t hold the place in my heart that Asimov and Heinlein do, I have always enjoyed many of his books and stories, being particularly taken away by Fahrenheit 451 and Something Wicked This Way Comes. I think that the authors death who has most affected me to this point in my life has to be Kurt Vonnegut’s when I was an undergraduate. The fact that not many of my peers seemed to care when I was severely taken aback when I heard as well as the fact that I had always harbored a secret hope that perhaps I might meet him someday left me very perturbed, and I quickly gorged myself on his books that I had in my dorm room as well as any I could find in the library and bookstores that I had yet to read. But yet one of my favorite quotes still comes from Fahrenheit 451,

“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 doesn’t 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. The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching, he said. The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime.”

 

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