Why Pasternak is a bad writer

This may represent the only time I want Ruskovich to read this blog.

In all seriousness, Pasternak is an extremely bad writer - the only thing that makes him even partially interesting is his subject matter, which is the story of a man versus the system. Haven't much better writers covered this same topic, though? Isn't this one of the key conflicts they teach you in elementary school? It doesn't matter whether the system is Communist or Democratic or whatever label you want to slap on it (like a fool) - any system can and will hurt some people. That doesn't mean we should read some 600-page atrocity just to get a heavily overdone message.

Do you know why Dr. Zhivago sucks? Because of the heavily descriptive writing style and the flat, boring characters.

I'd say more, but I think this quote says it better than I ever could; seeing that it comes from a famous writer that we're studying, I think it's especially appropriate for discussion in English.

I think descriptions of nature should be very short and always be à propos. Commonplaces like "The setting sun, sinking into the waves of the darkening sea, cast its purple gold rays, etc," "Swallows, flitting over the surface of the water, twittered gaily" — eliminate such commonplaces. You have to choose small details in describing nature, grouping them in such a way that if you close your eyes after reading it you can picture the whole thing. For example, you'll get a picture of a moonlit night if you write that on the dam of the mill a piece of broken bottle flashed like a bright star and the black shadow of a dog or a wolf rolled by like a ball, etc. ... In the realm of psychology you also need details. God preserve you from commonplaces. Best of all, shun all descriptions of the characters' spiritual state. You must try to have that state emerge clearly from their actions. Don't try for too many characters. The center of gravity should reside in two: he and she. ~Chekhov

Leaving Religion Behind

Not only does a conversion to atheism make a good college essay topic, but it also provides great blog fodder.

For example, today I skipped church and went to a bookstore instead - what an experience! It confused me - my head called out for a Holy Sabbath, but my heart enjoyed the freedom of a bookstore. Before today, it was the opposite: my heart told me, "You are Mormon, you are Christian, you should be a better person" and my head said, "Screw that!". But today, that feeling changed, and my heart lusted for the freedom of a secular world.

Could it be that, before, I was so trapped within religion that I couldn't see the joys of a normal life? I am always afraid that someone within the church will find out that I no longer care about their point of view; today, I couldn't care less. I feel peaceful again, something I haven't felt in years.

Buddhists are wrong - peace doesn't come from our inner feelings alone: it is inherently tied to our surroundings and the way we deal with them. By going to church, I was in turmoil because I felt I was living a terrible lie, and by keeping the Sabbath Day "holy" I supported the same myth that I make fun of every day. Why should I force myself to do something I disbelieve? To appease my parents? To see if I'm wrong? Or was it because I was so terrified of change that I refused to do just that?

I used to go to church merely to spend time with my best friend, Ben Olvera, but then he went off to college - the church no longer had anything I wanted. I don't want your hate-filled speakers, or your cult-like rituals, or your "sacred" buildings, Mormons - I just don't give a shit about you all anymore. I'm moving on with my life. By severing one of the four relationships I have with the church, I have freed myself from the pain of coercive belief.

Those relationships were the following: my friendship with Ben, my regular attendance of church activities, my friendship with Steve, and my dependence on my parents. My friendship with Ben, thankfully, is not based on religion, but I fear that my friendship with Steve is. For that reason, I hope he never reads this - I'm already discovering that the only connection between my parents and I is the church, and I get the feeling that they no longer care about me, my experiences, and my thoughts.

Anyway, you can summarize this whole post with one sentence: "I don't give a shit about Mormon ethics anymore, and damn am I happy about it!"

Not your average Kantian paradox

There are ethical considerations in screwing someone over.

At least, that's what philosophy tells us. For example, Immanuel Kant, the adoptive father of modern philosophy, would say that everyone has to keep their promises, no matter what happens. If we break a promise, even if the intent is good, we're still treating peoples as means to an end, and that's not cool.

Or, at least, that's what Kant would say. On the other hand, Kant also said that we have a moral responsibility to do what is best for the world. And, then, we make promises to ourselves, as well - what happens if our promises to ourselves conflict with later promises to others? Are we supposed to use ourselves as a means of advancing morality? The worst part is that Kant never tells you how to weigh two moral imperatives against each other, such as justice and mercy. Or, self-interest and other-person-interest.

For example, do we have any moral obligations to ourselves? I guess I'd call this a "reflexive" imperative. Reflexive imperatives would include a moral obligation to keep ourselves alive and to do what we would be best at. (Yes, Kant does promote this in his essay A history of the world with a Cosmopolitan Intent.) Sadly, Kant never discussed the implications of his work in this area.

Well, I'm going to, damnit, because it disproves everything he worked so hard to create.

When you start to consider yourself as an object with morals attached to it, every moral becomes fuzzy, because now you have to consider your own desires and wants. Plus, at that same time, you have to consider every person around you. Notice that Kant's moral system looks pretty bad here - what if I made myself a promise to stick with Lincoln-Douglas debate, but then made a promise to someone else to do Policy? Well, then, the latter promise must be illegitimate because I made the other promise first. On the other hand, the second promise effects two different people - surely, it must be more important than a promise made to yourself, right? But what if your first promise effects even more people in a positive manner? Or, what if keeping both of the promises cause negative effects to oneself?Or, what if keeping ANY of the promises causes negative effects to everyone? What if you just straight up made a terrible, terrible decision and promised something you couldn't give? Promises make things difficult. :(

So, when you're screwing someone over, there are some important considerations. First, are you simply using the other person as a means to an end? For example, if you hurt another person only for your own benefit, then you're a jerk. But, if you have their best interests in mind, too, then it should be okay... maybe. You can't treat them as a utility monster, though - you can't just hurt someone to make them happy. Okay, that's not true, either, because doing what helps other people, even if you initially hurt them, is a moral imperative. But, on the other hand, that's also only effectually moral.

The moral of this story is that Kant's morals only work under a utilitarian framework as soon as you start considering yourself as someone that you have to be nice to. This also means that hurting someone else for the "right" reasons (whatever those may be) is sometimes good.

What a terribly convoluted way to start a self-reflection blog.