i live like this btw

thats me

thats what i look like

listened to the novella that those videos were based on while i was doing my morning chores since it piqued my interest and i wasn't disappointed. i hadn't heard of this short story before and listening to it reminded me of some of my favorite works in this genre, specifically of brave new world which is easily my favorite work of speculative fiction within the last century. it was pleasant to hear similar sentiments expressed in the pithy format this work provides, as i very much appreciate different artistic takes on similar ideas

i especially appreciated the monologue offered by kuno to his mother, the idea of man being the measure in himself rather than being prescribed a measure externally. a major reason why i've come to deny the notion of an integral self in my philosophical wonderings is this: while enduring times of absolute isolation in the elements where only self perseverance is required without any sort of social context the thin facade of a "self" quickly disintegrates and is filled only by the immediate necessity to do what is necessary to stay alive. the man who is reemo and any other man in this circumstance cannot be differentiated, their motives are identical and their intentions can be communicated without words. it is in these times where one truly realizes that man is his own measure, rather than the subject of external measures that he applies to himself during times of lesser suffering. there is no greater realization than this, the basis of all philosophy to our progenitors but something in these times of wanton excess must be sought intentionally

i distinctly remember reading brave new world for the second time while i was working as a programmer at a factory in menomonee falls before i moved here and being struck by the speech and motives of the character of the savage john. he was a bastard child of a civilized woman and a civilized man who were visiting the tribal reserves in the uncultured portion of the world where humans still lived in adobe huts and gave birth naturally. the civilized woman was left stranded due to an accident during the visit and the father left her willingly, not wanting to be disgraced in the civilized society for having a child born of natural means. their son, john savage, grew up and learned to read from a copy of the complete works of shakespeare and some excerpts of the bible that were preserved in the village, but was an outcast from both the civilized world and the savages for being a bastard born of civilized parents but raised in the savage world. eventually he gets paraded around the civilized world as a sort of oddity by a man seeking fame, and i will never forget his dialogue with the world controller when he is brought there by his handler. afterwards he requests to live on an island with a lighthouse on his own to scavenge and cultivate crops on his own, and the ending is so poignant that i will not spoil it as i think it is a work that every person should read and meditate on. the relationship between kuno and vashti in the machine stops reminds me of the relationship between john savage and the civilized world at large in brave new world

i must admit that i am a sucker for these kinds of stories, though. timon of athens is easily my favorite shakespearean play and some of the dialogue in it still echoes in my mind from day to day. i will always remember reading thoreau's walden while laying in the wild pasture with my first goats that balmy summer four years ago. it was seeing the opera nabucco when i was seventeen and first considering the notion of a man so puffed up in his pride that he would declare himself to be god, only to be humbled by the true god immediately and made to eat grass like oxen for seven years until he recognized his place. after reading the new testament for the first time, i was transfixed on john the baptist, a nazarite who lived in the wilderness and boldly proclaimed the word of god as a prophet and forerunner of our lord and savior jesus christ, himself a man tempted in the desert by satan forty days and otherwise homeless his entire ministry before the crucifixion. it would be an understatement to say that these types of characters and people speak to me on a visceral level that very few others things can

the portion of the machine stops which describes the gradual breakdown of the machine also speaks to me on a visceral level, something that is not discussed in many of the other works i've cited. in those works, men voluntarily separate themselves from civilization and conduct themselves contrary to it without any notion that the machinations of the civilization would cease; this novella, however, discusses a potent point which i've spent many years laboring over in my many idle and active thoughts doing the work i have set out to accomplish. after i nearly died the first winter i lived on this property, and having spent nearly a year meditating and reflecting on the meaning of such a thing, it is now without a doubt that i see the infinite wisdom and love of god working in my life even while i was apostate from the faith. gabe coming back into my life and us working together to buy the land when we did was no accident. my being laid off in the beginning of 2019 was no accident. gabe's wife's pregnancy around the same time and our desire to move here was no accident. my laboring to establish ourselves on the property with crops and livestock that year was no accident. the events following and the complete destabilization of all modern systems following our establishment here was no accident. 2020 being one of the greatest years of my life while so much of the world was suffering and writhing without hope while the machine stopped was no accident

it was regaining my composure after teetering on the brink of certain death that completed all of these non-coincidences. had i been given the room to think to myself that it was by my own power or strength that we were able to establish ourselves here and dodge the machine stopping by the skin of our teeth i would have ultimately learned nothing. it was in nearly dying that i was given the sober reminder that it was not my own glory, but the glory and mercy of god that gives all life and good fortune to men. knowing with absolutely certainty and assurity how our gracious lord has guided my life in these uncertain times fills me with a contentment and love which surpasses any vague, imperfect shadow of love which fallen men may offer. it is only now that i can love god with all of my heart that i truly feel that i can love men, and i am certain the distinct lack of love and affection that plagues our world now is from so many forgetting their first love, the one who loved them first, our lord and our god

it is a long term goal of mine to write a long work on the nature of love, but i've set pen to paper so many times in these four years that now i've dozens or perhaps hundreds of pages of incomplete drafts which seem unsatisfactory as i continue to grow in the love and wisdom of god. it may be that in my last years that i could possibly write such a thing, long after everyone here has forgotten me and the world will be much different, for better or for worse, but i have a feeling that at that point it would just end up being a word-for-word copy of the psalms. there comes a point where wisdom no longer can be expressed by mere words, as first-hand experience cannot often be well communicated, even by the most prolific writers of the ages. time will tell i suppose

also i already picture tensyoo as yuno in my mind

i have never seen a chick swim wtf