Nelson Lowhim's Blog, page 112

Why I Write: "Politics" in One's Fiction and All Art is Propaganda

I shouldn't read reviews of my books. The bad ones knock me down, and the good ones also knock me down. The latter making me relax, the former forcing a refractory period that doesn't help my writing.  From http://banksy.co.uk/ But there have been a few points made about some of my books : that they have "politics" in them, when, ostensibly, they shouldn't have any such thing. Let's leave aside the fact that if my writing is obvious enough to be seen as political (in one way or another, I suppose), it will sell less [1]. Let's instead focus on what it means, actually, for a book to have no political leanings:


Simply put, it's not possible book not to be political. If a book does indeed say nothing about current policies or other matters, then it is being political with a tactical silence. That this silence might be more comfortable than an overt attack is besides the point. As Orwell said: "All Art is Propaganda".

And to paraphrase what that Banksy tag (in the photo above) says: in all conflict it is impossible to remain neutral. That applies to books created as well. [2] I will note that this isn't an accusation, for being silent is also being safe, no small task for many people in the world. But in more stable countries in the world, it's almost sad to see people react as such to ideas in books that they don't agree with. [3]







[1] I'll explain, but take note that the bestselling books, especially the ones within certain genres have readers with certain preconceptions, and so these usually come with a love for the status quo. To be certain, hard-headed rebels as protagonists sell well. But that comes with certain caveats. There can be corruption up top (usually in a single figurehead or cabal) in many of these books as long as it doesn't interfere with a basic "goodness" in the over all mission and system. In other words, it accepts the status quo as gospel, or close to it. Closest I have seen to questioning the status quo (in more literary books) is really just whining about a situation and throwing up one's hands and saying "it was always thus" or "there is no better choice" etc etc (nihilism for suburbanites, I suppose I would call this).

Finally, perhaps it's still a mark of what I write and my skill level that those ideas should be better packaged so as to slip past the reader unnoticed. A big reason as to why scifi is able to make such political points more so than realistic fiction: it allows for plausible deniability (or  perhaps people simply suspect it less when there's so much new to the world being shown).

[2] Where much of what is considered neutral is really tacit approval, while much of what is considered "political" or soapboxing is not much more political (though perhaps taking a stance that is not part of the status quo, and thus it stands out). I will also point to the fringe essay I wrote, on how humans naturally feel uncomfortable with ideas not of the status quo. This obviously plays a part in all of it.

[3] Again, don't think I'm so naive as to not understand the cultural phenomenon in the US which claims that fiction is not the place for a political (is ideological the right word?) argument. I think I heard George RR Martin say this. So there's that wall to climb up against as well. But I'm of the mind that even if it's accepted, it's merely accepting the status quo in your fictional-world (probably why sci-fi still manages to say something these days, while literary fiction does not).
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On Ministry of Bombs & downloading for free

Well, the writing is going, and as I've mentioned before, it's been mainly shorts. I will focus on prose and a long piece soon enough, though. On that matter, here's a pseudo-essay on reactions on earth when sign of alien life is spotted on a distant globe. Hope you enjoy it. Now, on to other matters, such as me and my book, Ministry of Bombs . If you haven't read it yet, I recommend that you do. It's my take on a thriller, so not like any that you've ever read.

But this post is about the consequences of one of my Google-selfies (pardon the wrong term and the swift transition). I recently found a discussion in the darker reaches of the Internet about me. In it, a prospective fan was lamenting that despite all their attempts to find Ministry of Bombs, they were still without a book. How then, the user asked, to get one? Immediately a chorus of users pointed out a site where he could download the ebook for free. The user was ecstatic and left to do just that.  
Now, I'm not exactly sure how to feel about this liberation—to use a colonial and neo-colonial term—of my paltry royalty salary. Sure, the user had gone through some serious pains to get the book and his bookstore and library both said they wouldn't order it! [1] And even though I'm confused as to why the user couldn't find the book online [2], the quickness with which others—some of whom loved the book, said it changed their view of the world—told him to get it for free was saddening.
This book has barely cracked any sales barriers and here were ostensible fans making certain that this remained that way. Of course, after that initial reaction, I wondered if I was being hypocritical. Perhaps I did this in other mediums. I try really hard to buy music that I like, but in the end it's mainly youtube videos I listen to. I think books are different, but that's a morally self-serving position, isn't it?
So it goes and all, but at least there was some good from this Internet-eavesdropping of mine. Two people on the thread claimed that the book was a world-view changing one (something I try hard to achieve). And even if another claimed that I was overconfident [3] and that the book was no masterpiece, my ego was still stoked—as my monetary situation worsens by the day. 
And for anyone else out there who has not had any luck in finding a copy of one of my books. Please email me at nlowhim [at] gmail [dot] com and we can work something out. Of course, if you're in a bad place monetarily, I understand that why one would use torrents. But that's it for my rant.





[1] Why?! Because it was published by a division of Amazon? Createspace, the company claims it should be available through all channels. Why is it not?
[2] Or go through me as I'm more than willing to get the book to people who don't have it. All they have to do is email me or contact me through my website. 
[3] Come on, me? Always thought I was pretty humble, but goes to show how one can come across online, I suppose.

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An iPhone 6 cover

Looks like there's a sale at Zazzle. To those who like the Ministry of Bombs cover, I think this is pretty cool. You?


Ministry of Bombs iphone cover Barely There iPhone 6 Case by nlowhim
Browse for iPhone 6 Cases at Zazzle

Want something else with this design? Just go ahead and let me know!



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Youth and Creation

We met at work in Alaska, taking a break between rushes to suck down some nicotine. That she was an artist surprised me, that she said nothing more, didn't. This was Alaska, after all, and the last frontier made for fresh starts. But I digress, we did complain about work and the hours we had to pull. I said so it goes and she fell silent on that note. 

Oh, I'm sounding like a fool, but the statement perfectly encapsulates that time, that beautiful belief we both had in our art. Of course, her skills were more marketable. I wrote. She created animation. That creation was something else and I dare say she wrote better than me in many ways.
We watched her creation that night, a five minute short where two men challenge each other, all slap with glove, then sit down to a game of chess. As they play, the chess pieces take a life of their own when pieces are traded, each color of pieces piercing the air with wails of lamentations-old and imploring their masters (players) to get revenge. 
White's pawn stabs black's pawn, mutilates the body. All of white's pieces cheer. White's player grins, happy to see black go down. But soon a tit-for-tat melee breaks out on the board.
The two players cheer on the pieces, but as blood starts to blot their shirts, and onlookers gasp, they exchange glances—the players—of worry. When one reaches in to stop his side, a bloody finger is all he receives. His opponent does the same thing, suffers the same consequences.
Suddenly, silence breaks out. They look down and realize that all the pieces are staring at them, angry. The scene ends with the pieces tying up the players and walking off, hand in hand. Obvious work, this, but the imagery was gorgeous and we drank to her creation. Hours later, I was consumed with jealousy. The film was a derivative of something I'd shown her—and she had thanked me for that—but had somehow managed to be better than anything I had ever created. 
That fact alone was too much for me and I left. Off to find a muse, I said, and though that was true, it was more a matter of that jealousy dousing my muse. We didn't talk at work after that. It was only when she was fired for trying to unionize that I was glad that I didn't. I needed that job more than she did.
I would meet her several years later in a full-suit-gear in the City, that spark still in her eyes. Her time with me was merely a fluke—the pity in her eyes told me that. Meanwhile, here I was still trying to write a story as good as the one I watched that night.
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The next email is coming out & more

Done writing and polishing the next email. It will be out soon. If you haven't signed up, do so, as you don't want to miss out. Here is it. On that note, things are still slow on the sequel writing and novel writing front, though I should have a few short stories coming out. I will link them as soon as I can. Good times. 
I do want to ask a question on Climate Change and the coming wars from that. Of course a drop in water tables will certainly add fuel to fire, the droughts also affecting crops and thus pushing more strife into the world. Furthermore the increase in storms and the increase in sea levels will all add to people moving around and these refugees (which will make the current crisis look like a picnic) further destabilizing the world. So it goes. 
My other thought is that the increase in temperatures will add another variable to contend with. It has been shown that an i ncrease in temps leads to an increase in violence . But I wonder how much of this will lead to more tribalism even in areas that aren't so affected by the worse parts of Climate Change. In some ways, if it makes leaders who should be trying to avert the crisis and help neighbors more violent instead, will this just increase the violence in the world.
In fact, I wonder how much of this is the reason for the already increasing tribalism we see in the world?
Some further study: Does an increase in temperature in lead to: 1) decrease in altruistic acts? 2) Increase in tribalism? One can be studied by simply looking at charities helped etc. 2 can be looked at in social dilemma games. 
Thoughts? I would dare say that my novel has some good points on all these matters .
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On the fringes, a lost post and spring's soft touch

It's almost spring here in the Pacific NW, and that gray smeared  cold weather is slowly losing a few battles here and there to patches of blue sky—that relief whose sharp edges are crusted by bright white clouds. One can feel the earth opening up again—with that staph-soil smell filling the air, people chattering in the streets, instead of just stumbling about drunk—for a beautiful spring. Let's move from that weather talk, though and to the theaters, where a movie called The Witch [1] plays to much acclaim. 

The very idea of witches has always interested me, though for different reasons, off late. When I was younger, I accepted the trope that out there in the edge of the woods something evil lurks, and that evil can be the witch. My affinity for Macbeth also hinged on those sisters three. But since youth has faded I look to witches as a description of something else, something more good than sinister. 
Mainly, that they're the scapegoat for any peoples or society. I wrote earlier about a great book I read on Africa and how colonial (and post-colonial governments) treated those who threatened to usurp power as those who were mad or on the fringes [2]. So it goes, but it's not hard to see that witches, some possibly driven to some level of madness by the society they were living in, would leave it and live apart, in the forests.
But what is interesting is the fact that the society would always use them, use witchcraft, as a scapegoat. And I see it in today's society. Sure, there are no accusations of witchcraft, or few that we take seriously, but there is still the underlying heuristic in the sense that we have the conventional way of doing things and unconventional way [3]; and the unconventional way is usually frowned upon and also used as scapegoat when things go  wrong. On the other hand, the conventional way gains way too many reprieves when it doesn't work. So for many leaders, it's better to fail conventionally than risk unconventional means. [4]
I see that many people with regard to Iraq and Syria state that not enough was done, that perhaps more bombing would have helped. Nevermind that bombing hasn't helped yet in any of these situations (not without some good political and ground game... this conventional view is less view and more a fetish). And yet, those who talk about peace are blamed for much of the bad that happens in foreign policy. [5]
A joke, almost, but it's one that must be confronted. Any society, if it's to survive must always balance the conventional with the unconventional, and should have a way of shouldering those ideas without punishing the messenger. Certainly it cannot only be tied to the powers that be. 
And make no mistake, an uphill struggle this is. As the ubiquitous witch story shows, it's something ingrained in our brain and something that the powers that be take advantage of. But we should still try to fight it, to take upon the Sisyphean struggle, because that way lies the light. 



[1] And I might watch this film because it seems to be a good psychological thriller, but I do know what happens in the movie and it too plays to the trope of evil in the woods. Whatever the hell that really means in the film and in the director's mind, it still plays to trope (and maybe horrors need to do just that, as an accepted trope that leads to fear is easier to tap) and platitudes that make up our national myths (for one, if anything set in frontier country doesn't show the horrors of the general population and only of the fringes is damn near propaganda, like it or not) {a}
[2] As well as the circular fact that those who dared to confront the status quo would either be driven mad or driven to the fringes and labelled mad. 
[3] I think society has certainly improved from the past and in many fields to day people are willing to listen to the unconventional way if it proves itself to be extremely more fruitful. Of course, this doesn't mean that initial bias isn't there or isn't there for the more complicated fields (or especially those tied to the powers that be). So I'll be more specific here and say that this is extremely pronounced when it comes to confronting national myths and other powerful, harder to discern mechanisms in society.
[4] Again, I don't mean to sound naive. I understand perfectly that for any organization there will be an entrenched way of doing things and it stands to reason that the new way will face more resistance as it usually will have more initial costs and no real way of proving itself (yet). There will, as always, be more people with much invested in the old way and they won't want the new way. But even with all that, it doesn't mean that there isn't a point where doing things the old way is more of a bias, a belief, than a real opportunity cost calculation.

[5] With the entire national state apparatus, one can see something like a faith creep up and the high-priests (NSA etc) demand not to be questioned and people who do are blamed for anything that goes wrong. So note that this is different than merely an opportunity cost of switching and more about the powers that be using the bias against the unconventional for their monetary and status benefits.
{a} Oh my, should I even get into the rabbit-hole this takes me down, that of all the interesting fringe characters of Colonial New England, random forest-women with specific rituals labeled as "witchcraft" would be the least interesting (and if one were to focus on that character, what societal actions actually drove them there would be more interesting my half than some ode to "evil"). There are French priests who were willing to help the natives while the "non-evil" slaughtered them for being the proclaimed opposite. And so it goes.
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40k!!

Not exactly a neat number, but the blog has finally passed 40,000 page views (most of that coming since 2014 [1]). Yeah, I'll toot my own horn when it passes 50,000 too, but it's a good feeling to know that some of you out there are enjoying the short stories and the essays. So thanks and glad you like it. If anyone is interested, here's a free coupon (will expire tomorrow February 21st, 2016:  Use this code CL52D) for Ministry of Bombs . Read it and review it. If you like it, tell others to read it as well!



[1] I'll also note that the process of counting page views can be an alchemy (with varying results from different algorithms conducting analytics), but I'll take it for now


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Algo, a piece by.

I recently stumbled upon a short written by Algo, that infamous writer, whom I first wrote about here . This one was surprisingly found in a middle-brow magazine. You know,  one with all the affectations of the upper middle class (without much substance, usually). Though I'm surprised to find the author in such pages, I suppose I should have seen it. That author's latest forays into more experimental fiction has lost him many friends. That being said, I look to this as a regression and I would dare say one out side of the author's strengths. [1] With express permission, I include it below. I think you too will be surprised by what you read.



 A day like any other—the sun filtering at angles low, that meek light only caressing one's skin, like old age creeping into an overused joint, like the tepid kiss of a lover no more, like the sting of  nameless deaths across the ocean—Jan walked into the lukewarm air. The leaves on the trees twinkle towards the heavens, then like some great awakening all start to flutter skyward. And no matter how much the gods up there had or would punish them, those leaves kept looking skyward, for not logic pushed them that way but wholly unrelated forces that cared not for which way they turned.
Jan noted this and pulled her light jacket tighter around her body and waited for the deluge, smiling at how others were taking cover. Fat drops of water filled the air. Then slap, slap-slap the sidewalk glistened wet. A flash: rolling thunder punched through the soundscape of horns and murmurs.
The skies opened up and rained a river, and not some navigable European river. No. This was a twisting, turning class 4 river with a vicious undercurrent and enough foam to cover the awnings of stores, the current sweeping some hapless pedestrians . 
Jan ran, almost fell from the flow of water, then walked, all stutter-step feet close to ground, to the cafe and burst through a small group of refugees who stared at her, then looked back out to their homeland of sidewalks and endless window shopping, their eyes vacant, yet lusting, like stoned teenagers, or rather like battle-weary soldiers suddenly upon a set of relief soldiers, or like other soldiers, now back from war, unleashed upon a brothel with all its fruits of delight (the socioeconomic slave drivers of said fruits being something that we shall over look for now). 
Now Jan moved though the staring-at-the-deluge baristas and shop goers and asked for a coffee—what she had originally come out for. But there was no response. The people kept staring outside, for the rain was now an ocean, the windows cracking. Then sploosh. The water entered, ravenous, hungry, soldiers on a rampage and they all floated until in their lungs air was replaced with water.



[1] That in of itself could fill a book; the muses that drive an author one way or another. As it stands, it's not for me to judge. I do feel that this is his weakest work, even when compared to another piece of his which was heavily critiqued . (What then to make of an author who has created works of art and then fallen backwards? Assumes it's part of a larger arc they see and know and I don't? Even with Rushdie I feel the same way . I suppose it's a matter of not taking the text or the creator of the text as sacred, and treating it as a medium less so than something final)
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Intransitivity and history

Intransitivity is an interesting matter to study, especially as it pertains to social choice. I have also found it as it pertains to studying history and when assigning blame, or cause for an effect. Intransitivity is essentially the case where with 3 or more choices (usually three), one would choose A>B, B>C, C>A. Thus showing that there is no true choice. [1] This is something that's not unique to humans. Birds have been to shown to have this as well [2].
What then is the solution? Is it the Condercet voting system a way to wade through it all? Not that one needs to pick a winner. It could simply be a proper formula and weighing system is needed. Thoughts?

[1] Now, this not something wholly original. I'm merely applying a thought in one field to another. Oh, and here it is. 
[2] So no, it's not just humans out thinking themselves. 

Future work: Will need to study intransitivity in social choices, but especially in cause and effect and how others have dealt with it. Obviously it needs more than the usual "gut feeling" for that's what causes such issues. I do wonder if historians deal with this and how they parse such situations. Same would go for those in the geo-politics field.
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Life as Art

And the saga continues. The artist's art show came through town the other day. It was quite a revelation and I have to say, a very beautiful one. For all that she spoke about trying to find a new way to express what life is, the piece of work that was on display was grandiose and beautiful, though I don't know if it had much to say about life. 

When I say grandiose, I mean it. The size of the entire facade of the largest building in Spokane, the piece was unfurled (with proper checks taken to protect it from the weather) down the side of a fair Bank building and left there for viewing. For a few hours everyday, a large scaffolding was placed in front of the painting and viewers were allowed to climb up and see every part of the painting up close.
I took this opportunity to do so and was very impressed [1] with what I saw: the entire piece was some sort of fractal city street map. If you remember, she started out with edge-node art, some of it representing real or imagined cities [2]. This, however, was composed entirely of real cities. The maps of them, that is. Five major cities and their main streets made up the larger lines. But as you moved in closer, the empty space was painted with even smaller lines of other cities, until there is no very little space. 
From afar the effect is of an interesting collage. As you walk in closer, more familiar lines come through (those grids, those plazas), until finally, your nose pressed up against the painting, you can barely make out what city you're looking at. All in all, there are supposed to be over 100,000 cities represented in this painting (hence the international tour). Like I said, I was impressed, though I'm not entirely sure what to make of the painting itself (being impressed does not always correlate with loving and feeling for a piece of art).

[1] Though still confused how this was the result of that previous interview she did.
[2] Some of those imagined street grids are now being examined by urban planners to see what wisdom can be gleaned off them and used on real streets. Again, life as art.

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