I don’t want to be human! I want to see gamma rays! I want to hear X-rays! And I want to—I want to smell dark matter! Do you see the absurdity of what I am? I can’t even express these things properly because I have to—I have to conceptualize complex ideas in this stupid limiting spoken language! But I know I want to reach out with something other than these prehensile paws! And feel the wind of a supernova flowing over me! I’m a machine! And I can know much more! I can experience so much more. But I’m trapped in this absurd body!
My favorite quote from the series.
Here I am… gazing whole hours at the Maison Carrée, like a lover at his mistress.
INTPs thrive on systems. Understanding, exploring, mastering, and manipulating systems can overtake the INTP’s conscious thought. This fascination for logical wholes and their inner workings is often expressed in a detachment from the environment, a concentration where time is forgotten and extraneous stimuli are held at bay. Accomplishing a task or goal with this knowledge is secondary.
A world that has produced a Mozart is a world worth saving.
I am an honest artist. What I write is intended to reach the customer—and affect him, if possible with pity and terror … or at least divert the tedium of his hours. I never hide from him in a private language, nor am I seeking praise from other writers for ‘technique’ or other balderdash. I want praise from the customer, given in cash because I’ve reached him—or I don’t want anything.
Turning your phone off at the door is the new taking your shoes off at the door.
There is a form of Japanese pottery called Kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired using gold dust. This kind of pottery takes what many people would consider a flaw and draws attention to it. It acknowledges a truth that our flaws create our unique beauty.
I download a lot of books, but they just sit there and get lost in my Kindle. I forget about them.
So I developed this hack: I add books I want to read to my Amazon Wishlist. Every once in a while I dump that into Fancy Hands and reserve all the books at the local library. Whenever I stop by there are invariably books waiting for me. It’s much easier to pick up and read a book when the physical copy is sitting out on my coffee table, reminding me of its presence. I rarely finish reading all the books I check out, but this little hack has increased the number of books I read ten-fold.
In the flawed there lies great beauty: Torn pages. Crackles on vinyl. Scratches over celluloid frames. The limitations of physical media become an inescapable component of the art we consume. They place the fiction within a reality, and reveal them both to be susceptible to the ravages of time. More precisely, they expose the beauty within art’s tales and emotion as being mortal—just like us.