Kurt Brindley's Blog, page 149

The Writing Hand

Filed under: Art Tagged: anatomy, art, drawing, photo editing, sketching, writing

#RIPKurtCobain (#27)

“Dumb”

I’m not like them

But I can pretend

The sun is gone

But I have a light

The day is done

But I’m having fun

I think I’m dumb

Or maybe just happy

Think I’m just happy [x3]

My heart is broke

But I have some glue

Help me inhale

And mend it with you

We’ll float around

And hang out on clouds

Then we’ll come down

And have a hangover

Have a hangover [x3]

Skin the sun

Fall asleep

Wish away

The soul is cheap

Lesson learned

Wish me luck

Soothe the burn

Wake me up

I’m not like them

But I can pretend

The sun is gone

But I have a light

My day is done

But I’m having fun

I think I’m dumb

Maybe just happy

Think I’m just happy [x3]

I think I’m dumb [x12]

Similar Articles You May Enjoy:

About a Fanboy

leverage

we pull the lever

because

the lever is there

because

the lever is there

we pull the lever

because

we pull the lever

we receive that which we desire

we desire that which we desire

because

the lever is there

Similar Articles You May Enjoy:

Regress Me To Nothing
Leave it to me
Short Verses And Other Curses #5
Untitled, for no particular reason
Short Verses and Other Curses #4

My Crime, My Punishment

BOOK | FICTION | LITERATURE

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

RATING: ★ ★ ★

Fyodor Dostoevsky

My crime?

Posing myself as a Fyodor Dostoevsky fanboy for just about all my adult life.

Why is this a crime?

Because, in all honesty, I never really read Dostoevsky…until recently.

Well, I did pass my eyes over all the words of his NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND (some editions translate it as LETTERS FROM THE UNDERWORLD) back in my early twenties.

But as an early twenty-something, I didn’t stand a chance with Dostoevsky seeing that research has proven at that age brains aren’t yet fully developed. For all intents and purposes, according to science, someone in their early to mid twenties is still an adolescent. Which, in retrospect, explains many things about my life. And which begs the question, how can someone without a fully developed prefrontal cortex truly appreciate or fully comprehend something as complex and nuanced as Dostoevsky’s writing?

As I’ve come to find out, even with a fully developed prefrontal cortex Dostoevsky is still rather overwhelming and abstruse.

Unlike Franz Kafka, who I also first read in my early twenties, I never went back to Dostoevsky over the years. I don’t know why. Perhaps my adolescent twenty-something self did understand more of what he read than I now give him credit for. But over the years, I did revisit Kafka’s work – often – and his writing has been, and continues to be, what I consider a foundational pillar of my intellectual being (for better or worse). There are other writers, too, whom I consider foundational to my being. Writers such as Vonnegut, Hemingway, Kerouac, Camus (yes, all the stereotypical white male authors one would expect a stereotypical white male dude like me would admire), among others.

But even though I never went back to Dostoevsky, and even though I am quite sure my twenty-something adolescent self had no clue what the NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND was about, all throughout the years in my mind I regarded him to be just as fundamental to my core as the writers whom I just listed.

Again, I do not know why. Probably because, like I already confessed, I was just a poser who enjoyed thinking that he knew what the hell Dostoevsky was about.

In my defense, I don’t think I ever made a public spectacle of myself with any obnoxious proclamations of deep knowledge of his writings; nor did I ever engage in any self-righteous debates or arguments with someone who did know and understand Dostoevsky’s works.

No, I believe my fanboy-dom was not a public lie, it was more a self lie. Somehow, somewhere deep down in my subconsciousness I came to believe that Dostoevsky was important to me when in fact he wasn’t.

Only the idea of Dostoevsky was important to me.

That is my crime.

So what, then, is my punishment?

Guilt.

I feel tremendous guilt. For, after a lifetime of self-deception in believing that Dostoevsky’s work was deeply meaningful to me, I find that after rereading NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND (twice now) and finally reading CRIME AND PUNISHMENT, perhaps Dostoevsky’s most acclaimed work, I really do not enjoy his writing as much as I thought I did…or should.

What is wrong with me?

Much.

And in addition to my punishment of guilt, I fear I am about to feel the wrath from Dostoevsky’s worldwide, extremely devoted fan base (which includes amongst its global army none other than Pope Francis! I’m doomed…) for what I’m about to write.

Before I get into it, I’ll confess that I am quite certain any faults I find with Dostoevsky’s works are more than likely due to my lacking intellect than with him lacking any skill as a writer. (Hopefully that confession will subdue the wrath somewhat…but I doubt it.)

I’ll start out by saying that I truly enjoyed reading NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND, at least much more than I did CRIME AND PUNISHMENT. In fact, to me they are very similar in content and in feel — psychologically tormented, self-righteous, megalomaniac protagonists disillusioned by societal norms fall in love with young ladies of ill repute and take it upon themselves to attempt to reform the young ladies but in the end its the young ladies who reform the psychologically tormented, self-righteous, megalomaniac protagonists.

Okay, I admit that is a very superficial synopsis of both stories. And I also admit that it’s debatable whether the NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND protagonist was actually reformed at the end (but we do know he felt remorse for his behavior toward the young lady of ill repute and regretted denying her love).

That being said, it seems to me that NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND is what would be left of CRIME AND PUNISHMENT if CRIME AND PUNISHMENT had only been properly edited.

Now, I have no idea what the editing process was for the book; however, I do know that Dostoevsky was in debt for much of his writing life (due in part to an unfortunate gambling addiction and taking on the responsibility of caring for his brother’s family) and in an effort to make a quick buck he would whip out his books as fast as possible. Is this the cause for the book’s excessive use of words? Who’s to say?

However I will say CRIME AND PUNISHMENT is too long, much longer than it needs to be.

The beginning starts out great, though. The protagonist Raskolinkov is faced with a crime he feels compelled to commit: rid the world of an evil person through murder, steal her money and use the money to better himself, thereby bettering the world. He justifies his warped philosophical outlook on community service by comparing it to the actions of men like Napoleon. He believes that great men are not bound by societal norms, such as regarding murder as a crime. Had Napoleon not killed to meet his goals, he never would have been able to conquer Europe, assume the title of emperor, and implement the liberal reforms as he had. Raskolinkov believed that, like the Great Men of History, his act of murder would be justified by the great acts he would eventually perform.

Ends do justify the means.

The writing used to set this scene and to take us within the turmoil of Raskolinkov’s psychological debate within himself as he worked up the courage to commit the crime was both beautiful and genius.

It’s after this initial burst of beauty and genius that things get convoluted and overly expanded. It’s as if in the first one hundred pages or so Dostoevsky was channeled by Camus and displayed his exquisite tendency for existential starkness, and then for the next 350 pages he channeled Balzac and displayed his unfortunate tendency for excessive adornment.

In addition to being overly psychological and rambling, the book has too many characters, each overly psychological and rambling who, naturally, make the book even longer than it should be.

In my view, if Dostoevsky would have focused mostly on Raskolnikov and his psychological torment as a result of the crime he committed, as well as the trials and tribulations of his relationship with Sophia, the young lady of ill repute, then we would have a much better, less cluttered, far leaner book.

Instead we have to listen to the ramblings of ridiculous characters such as Porfiry, the story’s ridiculous detective — of course in a book dealing with murder there is a requirement for a detective but this guy has way too much dialogue, with too much of it not making much sense at all.

And he was strange, like he was trying to be Sherlock Holmes…but while performing as a circus clown.

I could go on listing characters who I believe could have been axed but I think my point has been made:

The book needs a good thrashing with a red pencil.

And what was with all the names? Do Russians really call a person by three different names all within the same block of narrative? If so, no wonder they seem so smart.

Speaking of names, I really like the name Raskolnikov. I have a habit of naming my pets after writers I like, but I think I’ll change up my convention a bit and name my next pet after him. Of course the pet would have his complete name: Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov (which it seems in the book can be used in any order, or even each as a stand alone, if desired). But I would just call him “Raskol.” As in, “Here Raskol! Raskol! Bad Raskol!

Get it? Raskol, as in rascal?

Anyway…

Aside from its need for a trim, perhaps the biggest beef I have with the book is the ending.

**SPOILER ALERT**

Oh my God! We go through 400 pages or so of the back and forth and back and forth and back and forth of Raskolinkov’s psychological dilemma only to find out in that last few pages of this painfully dense tome that, through the love and dedication of Sophia, the young lady of ill repute, Raskolinkov, the psychologically tormented, self-righteous, megalomaniac protagonist, magically finds God and repents his sin. And we are led to believe that after he completes the seven years he has remaining on his Siberian sentence, he and his young lady of ill repute (formerly) will live happily ever after.

I about threw the book through the window after finishing it.

Look, I’ve nothing against finding God or for repenting one’s sins, but after putting me through over 450 pages of psychological madness, don’t give me some cheesy deus ex machina plot device at the book’s end.

I mean, come on.

That really hurt.

Okay, that’s enough. I’m already guilty in this article of what I accuse Dostoevsky of in CRIME AND PUNISHMENT:

Too many words.

So, to recap…

I committed the egregious crime of being a Dostoevsky poser and for fooling myself into thinking that he was important to my self development. My punishment for this crime is a lifetime of guilt for my foolish youthful false love since I now know, after having actually read his work, that he really isn’t all that I thought he was.

But there still must be a way for me to pay off my debt to society, right? There must be a way for me to reform myself so I can once again hold Dostoevsky in high regard?

Considering that I already confessed that any fault I find with Dostoevsky is probably due to my failings and not his, perhaps what I need to do is give him another chance. More specifically, I need to give CRIME AND PUNISHMENT another chance since I already said I enjoyed NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND and I’m already halfway through THE GAMBLER.

Maybe part of my problem with CRIME AND PUNISHMENT is not so much with Dostoevsky as it is with the translator. The edition I read was translated by Constance Garnett. From what I’ve discovered through a quick search is that the translation by the duo of Pevear and Volokhonsky is the way to go when it comes to reading Russian literature in English.

Maybe.

Maybe, after giving it some time and letting the book sink into my psyche for a while, I will revisit it again, this time reading Pevear and Volokhonsky’s translation.

Maybe (hopefully) their version comes with significantly less words.

~~~~

Rating System:

★ = Unreadable

★ ★ = Poor Read

★ ★ ★ = Average Read

★ ★ ★ ★ = Outstanding Read

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ = Exceptional Read
Similar Articles You May Enjoy:

Summing Up Maugham’s OF HUMAN BONDAGE
He Ain’t No Oe But That Ain’t So Bad
Guilt Calculus
A Super Sad Look at What May Lie Ahead
A Late Take On THE CORRECTIONS

Poems from the River, a free collection

You can get my poetry collection Poems from the River for free from amazon until midnight tonight (PST).

To claim the book, click http://amzn.to/1jQu50l

Thanks and Enjoy!

~Kurt

From the cover:

Just as water naturally follows the course set by the sometimes wayward and often divergent banks of the river, Kurt Brindley's poems in his debut poetry collection POEMS FROM THE RIVER follow the course set by the sometimes wayward and often divergent life he has led.

From solitary childhood reflections and isolated moments with nature, to the anxiety associated with the unrelenting passing of time and the fear of cancer's ultimate consequences, to the pleasures and pain of family, friends, work, play, love, hate, life, death, Kurt's poetry flows as does a river--sometimes with ease and quiet calm, as a river flowing through an isolated gulf's serene and lazy shallows; at other times with spontaneity and unforgiving force, as a river flowing through a precipitous canyon's tumultuous and unpredictable rapids; and at all times with undiminished resolve and pure blind faith that the end will justify the means, as a river forever flowing towards some unknown distant body of water that promises to be greater than itself.

The Human Touch

The internet cannot deliver a message as the mailman can.

It can deliver it quicker, surely; however, it cannot deliver it personably, with feeling, with the tangibility of the touch. Not with just the touch of the mailman, the mailwoman, necessarily; but with the lingering touch of the sender—his subtle scent, her wavering pen, their desperate struggle in the fold.

He eschewed technology and all its cold hard laws of exponentially expanding silicone speeds, of quantum speeds. All its qubits of progress, a maddening byting progress that lashes out at and makes extinct whatever ignorant Luddite befalls its path. All its promise of a terrifying future of a lifetime of virtually real, virtueless realities.

He eschewed it for he relished the wait. The wait, the freedom, that only the non-factoring, unaccountable emotive exploitation of the timed delay and rigorous sentimentality the aching human response can provide.

He waited with relish. Even when it did not come he knew that it could come. That it could be coming. He did not have to fret the instantaneous, lightening speed of non-receipt inflicted with precise and heartless certitude by LORAN’s many devices.

He could comfortably wait, wait for all eternity if need be, knowing that it could at least be on its way, on its way but delayed, perhaps; delayed not by neglection, and delayed certainly not by rejection…no, not by that, never by that…but instead by the heartachingly sweet, capricious unreliable nature of the human touch.

Similar Articles You May Enjoy:

Emergent
Ai Weiwei Blogging at Big Think
The Power of Money, the Money of Power
Heroes of Dystopia – A Serial Saga
The Proxy Wars

Regress Me To Nothing

Absence makes the heart grow.

So too does remorse, regret.

What doesn’t make the heart grow?

Life presumes the inevitability of growth.

What doesn’t make the heart grow?

Stockpiles

Dividends

Earnings

Data

Cumulus Clouds of Data

Empire Fantasies of Clouds and Clouds of Data

The heart grows with an unyielding yearning for such growth.

Growth.

Inherent Growth.

Growth.

Universal Growth.

Like the foreverness of the expansive expanding universe,

we inherently blister forth.

A universe of a forever expanding We.

Grow we must.

Like tumors.

Debts.

Happiness, too, makes the heart grow.

As does Love.

And Kindness.

The expectation of a kiss.

Growth.

Positive Growth?

What doesn’t make the heart grow?

Nothing.

What doesn’t make the heart grow?

Nothing.

Nothing, alone, makes the heart grow.

Nothing.

Related Posts:

From Poem Man – Petey Peter the Garlic Eater
Rise Up!
Leave it to me
Short Verses And Other Curses #5
An Abundance of Irony

If You’re Here You Must Be Sick…

(OR CARE FOR SOMEONE WHO IS)

I’d like to think that one or two of my three regular visitors (one of whom is me) come to this site to gain a deeper understanding of my creative writing by exploring my short stories, and poetry, and my insightful and sometimes witty flash fiction, and, most importantly, to buy my books.

Yeah, that’s what I’d like to think.

However, the reality is far from it.

The unfortunate truth is that, by far, most people who visit this site do so because they are seeking out information about my diseases, past and present.

The most common search terms that lead these seekers, or anyone for that matter, to my site are:

gvhd lungs

bone marrow biopsy

hickman line

graft versus host disease lungs

bone marrow needle (the article these terms lead to provide for some interesting pictures (viewer discretion advised))

prednisone and caffeine

prednisone and coffee

The most popular article on this site, which has nearly triple the amount of views of the second most popular article, is , where I discuss my frustration about finding out I have the incurable disease.

I say the truth is unfortunate not because I’m upset that people are not here to read my creative writings (although I confess my ego is a bit miffed), I say it is unfortunate because I know that if someone is here to learn about my experiences with leukemia and graft versus host disease, then he or she probably is in for some challenging times.

And that is unfortunate.

About a month after I was informed I had leukemia, I started blogging about it at a site I called Marrowish. And I blogged there regularly for two years. For two years I was consumed with wanting to know as much about my diseases (both leukemia and GVHD…of the lungs…and eyes…and liver) as I could find, and I wanted to share this knowledge with as many people as possible.

But eventually I got sick of being sick…and of having my thoughts and actions being consumed by it.

So I stopped thinking about it (the best I could) and writing about it.

That was over a year-and-a-half ago…

But, seeing how “popular” all my sick-related articles are, perhaps it’s time I began providing updates on my health again from time to time.

I’m still certainly sick of being sick, but the good news is I haven’t really gotten much sicker since my last update (which was more like a major whine-fest than a health update).

In fact, I’ve been pretty stable and have even improved in some regards. This stability and improvement may be because I have been doing some pretty cool health-related things lately (I say “may” because during the past four years of my involvement with the medical community, one thing I’ve learned is that there are not many certitudes when it comes to healthcare).

I’ll try to expand on these in later articles, but here is what I have been up to health-wise the past year-and-a-half:

- April 2011, I began a five-year Bronchiolitis Obliterans Syndrome (BOS) study at the National Institute of Health. This study is to help get FDA approval to use Montelukast (commercially known as Singulair) as an authorized treatment for BOS. Since I began taking the drug I have been able to stop taking the steroid called prednisone—which is a major victory—and my lung condition has remained stable, as proven by regular pulmonary function testing.

- January 2012, I began twice weekly Extracorporeal Photopheresis (ECP) treatments at Johns Hopkins Dermatology Center. While there is no conclusive evidence as of yet, it is thought that this blood treatment may be effective in bringing calm to all those crazy outta control T-cells (affectionately called GVHD) that we post-transplant patients tend to get. I cannot say for sure that these treatments have helped; but I can most definitely say that they haven’t hurt — except for the fact that they take a big painful bite of time out of my life. Each treatment is about three-hours long; add to that the drive time coming and going plus the system prep time and it comes close to being a five-hour-per-treatment bite of time. Ouch. But, if you’re looking for options to treat your GVHD, you surely want to consider ECP as one of them.

- May 2012, I was fitted for Prose lenses at Johns Hopkins Wilmer Eye Institute. These scleral-type lenses used to be referred to as Boston Lenses, since Boston is where they were invented and was the only place where one could get them. Fortunately, Johns Hopkins now also provides the service. These vision-saving lenses have drastically changed and improved my quality of life.

- August 2012, I had cataract surgery in both eyes. Yeah, prednisone may have saved my life, but it definitely took a toll on my body. However, after I had the surgery and once my Prose lenses were readjusted for my new vision, my eyes are now bionic.

Those are the major things that I’ve been involved with that I feel could benefit others who are dealing with similar challenges as me. Of course, there are other things I have done and continue to do (like my countertop calisthenics, for instance) that may be of use, too, and of which I will write about at a later date.

Who knows, maybe someday I might even coral all this health stuff into an easy-to-read ebook, or something…

We’ll see.

Until then please remember that whatever it is you’re seeking, or regardless your reason for visiting, I hope you find at least a little bit of solace from the words that have accumulated here over the years.

Thanks for stopping by.

~~~~

PS… Please take the time to read my Disclaimer for this site.

Related Posts:

No Sense, Whatsoever
Caffeine Therapy – Update #2
Caffeine Therapy – Update #1
Long Overdue
Caffeine Therapy

The #FREE Promotion Ends Tonight!

Your chance to get THE SEA TRIALS OF AN UNFORTUNATE SAILOR for #FREE ends tonight at Midnight (Pacific) and 3:00AM (Eastern).

Once the promotion ends, the ebook price goes back up to the ungodly amount of 99¢.

US and India can get their books here >> http://amzn.to/18ciQK0

All other countries can get theirs here >> http://authl.it/B005O1AF4G

If you get the chance to read the book, I ask that you please consider leaving a review. Good or bad, I am really interested in knowing what you think about it.

Thanks!
~ Kurt

bojiki.com

The Sea Trials of an Unfortunate Sailor – #FREE

The Sea Trials of an Unfortunate Sailor will be available for FREE at all Amazon worldwide stores (US, INDIA, UK, CANADA, GERMANY, FRANCE, ITALY, SPAIN, JAPAN, BRAZIL) until midnight Sunday, May 26, 2013, and then back to its regular price thereafter.

For my friends in the US and India, you can get your free copy here.

For all my other friends around the world, you can get your free copy here.

To my friends in India ~ if just 0.01% of your population were to get their free copy, I would be a very happy human. :)

And as always, if you do read, or if you have already read the book, please consider leaving an Amazon review. Good or bad, your thoughts about the story are very important to me.

Thanks, Everyone!

#ReadOn #Free

Similar Articles You May Enjoy:

A New Look…A New Price
The Sea Trials of an Unfortunate Sailor – FIVE DAY HOLIDAY GIVEAWAY
He Ain’t No Oe But That Ain’t So Bad
Book Update #4
Book Release Strategy