Earth Hour

March 27, 2010 is Earth Hour this year. At 8:30, I intend to flip off all unecessary lighting. Please sign up at http://earthour.org and do the same. Also, please be sure to tell your friends!
I look forward to seeing all those flipped off lights from satelite photos, so please, don't be the one to spoil the picture.

Gregor the Overlander

Gregor the Overlander, by Suzanne Collins, is the first book in the Underland Chronicles series.

It follows the title character, Gregor, as one day, in a strange incident involving laundry, roaches, and a complex ancient poem, he finds himself and his two year old sister far underground. To make worse, they've unintentionally triggered a war, between the humans (and their mounted bats) of the Underland, and a vast army of rats.
As fate would have it, according to The Prophecy of Gray, Gregor is supposed to be a great warrior, destined to save the Underland from being run down by the vicious army of rats.
There is, however, a problem; Gregor is not interested in fulfilling this prophecy; in fact, he'd like nothing more than to grab his sister and leave the Underland. But, upon hearing that his long lost father has been taken prisoner by rats, he realizes that he must take up the quest if he is ever to see his father again, and thus begins his quest.
I found this book to be excellent, and though it was geared towards younger readers than Collins more recent books (THG and CF) it was still briliantly written, and a still has that element Collins consistenly seems to deliver: surprise!
As usual, she's managed to capture my attention with yet another brilliant book. I think that readers both young and old will be able to enjoy this book. I recommend it!

Notes on The Pirate's Dilemma

Instruments of Piracy
by Jourdan Cameron

A salty breeze cuts across the golden sand as I flare my nostrils wide open, so ready to recieve it. I sharply inhale, feeling invigorated, full of life. I'm locked, loaded, and sitting atop the world.
Suddenly however, shouts break the calm, as shots fire, and screams begin to fill the air.
"A ship! A ship!" I can hear the people shouting madly, and I see the running across the beach in a grand melee of panic.
I begin to wonder just what's going on as a woman grabs me by the shoulders. Her eyes are wide with shock, and a mad, uncertain fear.
"Child" she begins gasping "if you know what's good for you you'll run!"
Deciding that it would be a good idea to leave, I dash across the sand for the shelter of the forest. Stopping at it's fringes I watch the wild panic ashore. What could be happening? There are men with guns aimed, poised for the water, and ready to fire upon whatever emerges that could be so horrible.
I spy the ship.
It's a lovely craft that I can tell is built for speed, with a hull that cleaves the water clear in two, and massive white sails, billowing heroically. This ship is truly a marvel, but now a dread sweeps over me; what's it here for?
I catch the glint of an object onboard a man begins pulling out of nowhere. It looks like some sort of weapon. I reach for the spyglass my father gave me, and I realize it's not the instrument of destruction I was expecting:
It's some sort of brass wind instrument.
As the ship draws nearer I begin to wonder about their intentions again as I catch another glint, and upon further examination, it's another man with a horn. A third man appears as well, this time with a drum.
The boat is now quite close, and the shore is now clear, save the men and their weapons. I rush back to the beach.
"Wait!" I yell, gasping.
"Wot?" asks a tall man with a shotgun; he was balding and wearing grey slacks, shirt, and anything else that seemed to be lacking in color.
"Did you catch that glimmer off the ship?"
"Yes, you mean the glare from his lens?"
"Lens?" I'm a little confused now.
"For his rifle!"
I realize there must be some sort of mistake; these guys aren't here for some sort of fight, and I have the feeling I should inform the fellows on the shore about this...
"That wasn't a rifle! It was a horn!"
"So? Listen, who says these guys are here to make music?" he said, spitting out his last words with foul sarcasm.
"Ask the chap with the drum" I spat back, as the ships anchor splashed overboard and the musicians began boarding smaller boats to reach the shores.
"Out of my way, punk."
He shoved me aside.
"Men!" he shouted arrogantly, as the others turned thir gazes on him.
"Prepare to fight!"
I looked on in disbelief as the first boat hit the shore, the man in charge fired the first shot, splintering the shocked oarman's paddles.
"We know who you are!" the tall man sneered.
Surprisingly though, they kept paddling towards us.
I decide to run out to the boats.
"On five" The man shouted "we fire together!"
"But sir" I heard one woman begin to protest "we'll hit th-"
"Never mind the boy, we have pirates to kill!"
A wave nearly knocked me over as I froze dead in my tracks. Pirates? I stopped and thought about the remote possibility that they were. How could they be? They hadn't fired shots, or done anything vicious, I thought. No. They couldn't be.
I turned back towards the shore. I was proud to see that everybody had their shotgun facing the sand. Except for one, which I regret to inform you, was pointed directly at me.
With a bang, I feel searing lead tear down my shoulder as I double over in agony, crimson pain running the gold sand red. I really begin to wonder how soon it'll be before I'm dead, as a strong pair of arms lift me off the the damp sand and continue towards the shore. Just about everything else is now a blur. I remember, fading into the background, were the screams of the man who shot me, as he was dragged off into the woods. Presumably for a stern talking to, or possibly something a bit more... severe.
I soon fade past the belt of conciousness and reawaken in my bed. I feel some pain in my shoulder where they took out the bullets while I was out. Things start coming back to me. As I get up, I head for the kitchen.
My father is thrilled to see me up, and tells me what I missed. Nothing much, really, once I was taken to safety, he explains, the 'pirates', as was thought, turned out to be traveling musicians at sea, and they put on a free concert at the beach after the news came in I'd be alright.
"Dad?" I asked "Why did they attack?"
"What? They came and- Oh, you mean Allens?"
I nodded. He was the one who shot me.
"Remember that story about the pirate attack? When they came in, burned the town and left?"
I nodded again.
"Well Allens heard that- he also heard something else. The pirates came in on boats."
"So?" I asked. "Allens has a small rowboat, why didn't he shoot himself.
My dad chuckled a bit at the notion.
"Because these pirates" dad said in a psuedo-sneaky voice "had sails!"
"You don't say!" I said in a total state of mock-shock.
"And of course, if they have sails, it means that any other ship with sails is a-?"
"Pirate ship." I chimed in. Now this whole thing felt rather stupid, really. All over a simple technology to make the ship faster. Sails.


So what was the point of this story, really? Well, as I read The Pirate's Dilemma (brilliant book!) I decided I'd write some notes on it, expanding on what I've learned. I came up with the above story. I hope you've enjoyed it. The point of it? Hopefully (for you the reader) a better understanding of p2p technology. Can they be used for 'bad things'? Yes, they most certainly can, just like a ship with sails. That, however, doesn't mean they shouldn't be used for anything, but on the contrary, can be a fantastic tool for getting messages and information across.
I do, however, discourage using them for illegal purposes. Why? Because it violates the law. While it's quite true, and has been acknowleged many times, that copyright law needs much reworking if it's to meet the demands of the Web 2.0, many will begin to blame these p2p networks as massive 'pirate ships' in a way, not realizing their full potential, and what they could really be used for. Thus, the ships are threatened with burning, when sometimes they merely carry something far more innocuous and possibly harmless.
Piracy, I've discovered, isn't taking as big a chunk from the music, film, and various other agencies as I initially presumed. Why? Because pirates have a tendency to download, but later purchase items that they 'stole'. I found this quite interesting, but the fact is that (some of the time) the pirating of one thing or another is simply to evaluate. This isn't always the case, but on occasion it simply is.
So what's one way to S.O.S (Save Our Ships) and not be villainized? What I recommend is refusing to download things illegaly. It'll save us much blame if we can be blameless, and instead, diverting p2p traffic towards something more harmless, like copyleft software and music.
Another is to refuse to buy movies outright. By simply ignoring them in favor of purchasing secondhand, you hit Hollywood where it hurts most- the wallet. Let's invite them about the ship for a tour of what's really going on behind the scenes- and let's make it something good. The invention of p2p technology is of massive magnitutde, and an important root of the Web 2.0, which is also known as the read-write web, which means that you, that's right, you, have the power to shift things for the better. I simply ask that you do it. It's no big deal, at least, not for you, but it could affect the rest of the internet. Forever.

Starclimber

Starclimber, by Kenneth Oppel, is the final book of the Airborne series. Set in an alternate history during the early 20th century, this steampunk trilogy is, in short, excellent. It centers around a young man (Matt Cruse) and his adventures on airships across the world. He is accommpanied (and ocasionally dragged) by Miss Kate Devries, along with a couple other friends he makes across the series.
I came across the first book from a friends recommendation, and I'm very glad to say she must have brilliant taste in literature, as I found myself steadily devouring the entire series
I particularly loved the science fiction aspect of the books, which were very well constructed, and in general, had a leaning to the 'hard' sci-fi genre. Of course there was also the relationship Matt shared with Kate (DeVries) that's very well laid out, and proved my preconception about this being yet another clichéd YA boy/girl relationship wrong.
I found the entire series to be riveting, well written, and is definitely one I can recommend, especially if you enjoy steampunk, alternate history, science fiction, or just feel like mixing it up a bit.
This book in particular is the last in the series, and is about Matt Cruse heading, as you may have guessed, into space. He has been selected for part of a special sending the first "astralnauts" past the atmosphere for the first time. This one is loaded with suspense, and, just like the others, absolutely captivating. I didn't find this one to be as action packed as the first two so much as it was suspenseful and somewhat mysterious. That said, it lives up to the rest of the series and is the perfect conclusion for a series of it's caliber.



Right now I'm reading Gregor the Overlander (from Suzanne Collins of THG), I'll have a review posted ASAP.

London, 1802

London, 1802

Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour;
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
Have forfeited their ancient English dower
Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
Oh! raise us up, return to us again;
And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart;
Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:
Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
So didst thou travel on life's common way,
In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart
The lowliest duties on herself did lay.

London, 1802, is a poem by William Wordsworth, written in 1802 (naturally) but unpublished until 1807. It's about the poet Milton, and what Wordsworth believed about him. He felt that Wordsworth had a part in making England a better place, and he was wishing he could return somehow, with a pen, to once more improve the world in his own way. England, to Wordsworth, is a sick man, one in need of Milton's inky medication.
This poem, in 14 lines, is a sonnet, and a shining example of one. I found it very interesting, in part because it's a very good poem, and also because of it's content. Wordsworth was very brave to say the things he did about England at the time, and he still waited (perhaps quite wisely) for five years to publish it. Wordsworth thought of England as a nasty, rotting stagnant place (at least from an artists perspective). I previously did not know how Wordsworth felt about Milton, either, seeing as he evidently viewed him as a saving grace for the world of literature, creativity, and humanity.

Give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. -Wordsworth

Recommended Reading:

Shmoop on London, 1802
http://www.shmoop.com/london-1802/


On another note, I was recently nominated by Zella Kate as her favorite literary reviews blog.
*STANDS ON PODIUM, GRINNING* "I'd like to thank my mother for my writing ability, the Academy for this great award, and of course, Zella, for her nomination. Zella, why don't you come on up here? In fact, let's have a bloggers party on stage? *MUSIC BEGINS TO PLAY* "And I'd like to nominate Ari Collins for amazing short stories,  and back at Zella for great reviews, and,-" *O FORTUNA STARTS PLAYING, JOURDAN IS DRAGGED OFF STAGE*

Acquainted with the Night, by Robert Frost

I found this incredible poem by Robert Frost called Acquainted with the Night. It's not quite as popular as his other poems, but it's brilliant nonetheless. I'm hoping this one really catches on.

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain --and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

This poem was rather dark and brooding (I was somewhat surprised Frost wrote it!), and it leaves you with chills. It's not exactly The End of All Hope, but it's still something of a fall from grace, almost, that happens. Suddenly, you're immersed in the dark corners of life, those things that hide from the sun, the dark energy that flows beneath our feet, like the diligent editors who keep Wikipedia afloat.
The speaker here is just getting to know the night, as the title indicates, acquainted, not a particularly close relationship, i.e., just somebody to know but by no means a friend.
One of my favorite lines from the poem, "I have outwalked the furthest city light" really adds to the dismal nature of things, laying out the groundwork for things to come. It's like entering into where things start getting shaky, leaving your podunk little town for a ghost city, a place detached from everything, so lonely and ominous, yet without danger, simply because fear has packed up and moved north.
All the figures in the poem also seem very far removed and nonchalant about things, from the watchman to the "luminary clock against the sky", which both seem to hold use for a moment, because it seems that either one will bring about some sort of action into the poem.
The interrupted cry could have been anything, really, but it was everything except for a cry to him. Instead of investigating, Frost simply moves on, perhaps to jilt us somehow or to say that he's acquainted - but not friendly - with the night. I suspect it's the latter.
In all, this is a brilliant little poem I can recommend!

Further Reading:
The text of the poem on Portitude
http://www.portitude.org/literature/frost/pt-acquainted_with_the_night.php

Shmoop, for an analysis of the poem
http://www.shmoop.com/acquainted-with-night/


There's good news regarding The Hunger Games! The third and final (as far as we know) book has been unveiled, it's called Mockingjay.
Here's the cover:


http://nmplteenblog.blogspot.com/2010/02/hunger-games-3rd-book-cover-revealed.html

Hamlet

"To be or not to be"- that's known as The Question. This question can be found within the play Hamlet, written by William Shakespeare between 1599 and 1601. In spite of it being one of the most performed, read, and studied plays in history, Hamlet still has some mysteries surrounding it. For example, why did it take Hamlet so long (up to the end of the play!) to avenge his fathers death? One possibility may lie right before us. The full title of the play is The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. All of Shakespeare's tragedies end in the death of most of the main characters, all at the end of the play. Perhaps to preserve this theme, he did the same thing with Hamlet.
Another mystery around Hamlet is the death of Ophelia, and whether or not it was intentional. Ophelia was in quite a quandary- her father was dead, the man she loved was mad (or so she presumed), and her brother Laertes was gone. I presume that she did, in fact, commit suicide, but, it wasn't entirely of her own accord. She had simply fallen into a dangerous situation, and chose to take no action, thus committing a passive suicide.
Something I did find interesting about the play was the attitude Hamlet's mother and uncle-turned-stepdad had toward Hamlet and how he mourned his father the loss of his father. They told him, in short, 'that's cute, now just get over it'!

Hamlet lamented the haste with which his mother remarried, which was so quick, the cake from his father's funeral was used for the wedding. He also considered this union an unholy one, and took it as a sign of weakness from his mother.
Early on in the story, though, the ghost of his father comes along and captures the attention of the guards outside the castle, who frighten the thing away. They inform Hamlet, who soon goes to see it. Hamlet and the spectre converse. As it turned out, his uncle Claudius usurped the old king and now father asks son to avenge his name. Hamlet, already upset by the marriage, agrees to follow through, and devises a plot to assassinate Claudius that involves feigned insanity and various other strange acts.

My Thoughts
I found Hamlet to be a riveting, interesting story, and also found out that it's the basis for lot's of modern day media.

I was a little confused (and disappointed!) with the ending, since I feel Shakespeare could have carried this much further had Hamlet lived and had become King.
But the end was really the end, and I did find it quite sad, but it carries some strange quality my words can't pin down. Of course it's timeless (a classic and one of the best plays of all time), but it almost seems to be hiding something.
It's almost like your best friend (think of your best friend, please) has been acting crazy, lately. Insane, babbling to himself, pacing, dressing in all black, and talking in riddles. Finally, you receive a letter that gives you some insight into his behaviour, but when your halfway through it, the thing bursts into flame and you're not entirely sure what went wrong.
You then pick up the newspaper and discover your friend was killed, along with several of your acquaintances, in some sort of stabbing/poisoning incident.
That's sort of how Hamlet left me feeling.

Nonetheless, I felt it was a brilliant play that's relevant today, and proof to the general public Shakespeare was absolutely not a boring old bard. Instead, he's written amazingly complex, intriguing plays and poetry, and managed to maintain his standard.
Perhaps the reason many are 'bored' by Hamlet is because they simply don't understand it. After reading his older variant of English, the words fail to penetrate for quite a few people.
I recommend Shmoop, it has lot's of guides to literature, along with various other subjects, like civics and history.

Further Reading:
The full text of Hamlet available online, free.
http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Hamlet

Zella Kate's review of Hamlet
http://zellakate.blogspot.com/2009/12/hamlet.html

Shmoop on Hamlet
http://www.shmoop.com/hamlet/