Greenery: Why I Enjoy It

As I have grown older, I have felt more frequently drawn to the natural world than in my previous years. I suppose this is because it offers an escape from the constrained world that I experience. Nature is simply present. She harbors no expectations towards my success or failure. As C.S. Lewis once wrote, "Nature simply hearkens: Look, Listen, Attend!" This lack of expectation gives me a feeling of freedom. I know this is an illusion. In reality, I am bound, ironically, by the laws of Nature. If my wits do not allow me to survive, then I will die. More importantly, I am bound by God's law, as Nature is His Creation. So this freedom is not complete. But nonetheless, the lack of restraint which I feel when I am in Nature is an addicting sentiment, and despite the questionable nature of freedom itself, I seek this release from the "fetters of modern life" at frequent intervals.

I am attracted to beauty, as all people are, and nature provides that in abundance, which forms another draw for me. I don't simply refer to an aesthetic beauty. If that were my meaning, I would immediately be shot down by the sheer ugliness that shares the same space as the beauty. The deeper beauty of nature is in the pattern of predictable change, such as that of seasons. The beauty is found in birth and death in all its manifestations. All of nature is in a constant state of growth and decay. There is always change. Even the very plates composing the earth on which we stand is moving, albeit slowly enough that the total change will be less than a millimeter within a human lifetime. Bacteria, which are themselves a few orders of magnitude smaller than a millimeter, will travel much greater distances during their allotted time of existence.

Nature offers a multitude of pleasant sensory experiences. Let me note again the caveat that any biologist will not hesitate to offer a multitude of severely unpleasant sensory experiences to complement any list of the former. Personally, I love the smell of the air after a snow, the shock of a mountain lake or river when you dive in, the warm glow of a sunset in any environment, and the lushness of an evergreen forest. I enjoy a good fog, find the prospect of a downpour tantalizing, and find that this makes the warm light of the sun all the more pleasant.

Now, I don't live in Nature, which is evident by the fact that I am writing in a blog. But I clearly find many of my metaphors and analogies there, which is as it should be. What better way to help understand our existence than the very creation which God has given us? Yet again I must add that this is not the only tool that has been given us for understanding our existence, and the use of Nature alone as a tool for the interpretation of our existence has led, at best, to terrible mistakes in our past. But it is an interesting point that much of Nature's beauty is a result of change, much of which involves death and pain. It is the same way in human relationships. With great love comes great pain. We must die to ourselves to become ourselves. Now I don't want to seem trite by saying that the beauty of our relationship with God can only come with death and pain, but I am saying that. If it seems trite, then perhaps I should edit this later and say the same thing in a way that seems new. That's what all the genius authors do anyways. ;-)

image from http://pictopia.com/perl/get_image?provider_id=207&size=550x550_mb&ptp_photo_id=147108

Some Fiction (Part II)

“Yeah... you, Mom, and a whole bunch of MGC’s!” Brennus remarked with an ironic chortle.
“Hey, would you rather have a proclivity towards macular degeneration, or maybe prostate cancer? How about social anxiety disorder? Then you wouldn’t be so anxious to go out every night, which by the way, I imagine you plan on doing tonight?”
“Yeah... my friends and I are planning on meeting at the forum.”
“Always the forum. You should stop wasting your time there, and money for that matter... I can’t tell you how much time I wasted there when I was a kid, but they didn’t have all those exclusive domains back then either. Can’t you just go to a regular domain once in a while, like the, I don’t know, school domain perhaps? Anyone can visit that one.”
“But that’s the point. If you can afford it, why not spend all your time in primary domains?”
“Because the people in those domains consist almost entirely of people that you have known since you were young. It’s time you met other people besides those that fall in your socioeconomic class.”
“You’re starting to sound like the faculty at school, Dad!”
“Well, I say this with all seriousness. I think the more exposure you get to people that aren’t like you, the more secure you can become in your own identity.”
“Fine Dad. You know what? I’ll ask my friends about it tonight, alright?”
“Sure you will.”
“Well what do you expect me to say?”
“I don’t know. Just go and have fun, eh?”
“Alright Dad. See ya later.”
“See ya.”
..............................................................................................................................
Well, I’m feeling pretty lame today. I wanted to go out with my friends tonight, and Dad told me that I needed to help out with farmwork. I asked him why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, and he got all mad at me. Man, I don’t know what he’s thinking. It’s this kind of thing that makes a kid rebellious in the first place, forget genetic proclivity!
You know it’s weird, but this writing down your thoughts thing actually does help. Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on Dad. It’s not like this is unusual for him. He never was very good discussing things with my sister and I. He’s not the type you can really discuss things with. If he decides to tell you something, great. But you’re not getting anything that he doesn’t choose to tell you. I think that might be why I remember the story he told me about how our family got to Mars so well.
The whole thing just sticks out in my mind, actually. I was in fifth form, and Dad had his annual month long vacation, and so we decided to visit Xianluu, New Asia. We had just spent the day at the beach and it was beautiful, especially the sunset over the Pax Ocean. As we sat there, watching this amazing sunset, a sunset that kind of bathed everything in a fiery glow, he asked me what they had told us in school about the origins of Martian society.

“Sheridan, what do they tell you about... well... have your teachers talked at all about the history of Mars?”
“Yes, they told us that the three Martian colonies of New Asia, Americana, and Europa were founded in 2403 by pioneers that wanted a better life for themselves... and then a little while after that... I’m not sure exactly when, they decided to form a loose union that would allow some independence...”
My dad interrupted me.
“Alright, that’s enough. Why is history always taught so inadequately? No wonder it repeats. Sheridan, have you ever wondered why they wanted a better life? Why a loose union was needed, rather than a more unified government?”
“Not really.”
“Well... there you go. I honestly don’t know what the worlds are coming to.” He paused and sighed. “but anyways, they don’t teach you these things at your school, because they are afraid of offending people. If they taught the whole story, a lot of people would complain, because people are terrible at dealing with pain. But I think it’s time that I told you about your history, because you are probably going to hear a lot of different things as you grow older, and I want you to know the truth.”
I waited for him to continue.
“Anyways, about 300 years ago, when Mars had first been terraformed, the government wanted to administer the tests to decide who could settle the planet, and who would stay on Earth. Your great grandparents several generations back were part of a group of people in the government who thought that this was wrong, and that the basis of who went and who didn’t should be chance alone.”
“A lottery, eh?” I remember chiming in.
“Yes... in a way. So, there was a great disagreement about this, and eventually a civil war broke out among the pro-chance, and pro-test factions. To make a long story short, the pro-chancers won, and as a result, the people that inhabit Mars today are here purely because of a throw of the dice, with no genetic bias whatsoever. Nobody on this planet will ever be deemed fit or unfit based solely on what their parents gave them. Aye, we do use the tests, but only to diagnose and prevent possible disorders, and even then, it is optional. But that is the story, son. You’ll probably hear all manner of falsehoods as you grow older, but just remember that times were tough, and a lot of people were dying. They were looking for someone to blame.”
Right there, that was my Dad. He would always get that funny accent when he got worked up. More frustratingly, you never could get anything more out of him than what he told you, and what he told you was often so cryptic that you wanted to know more. I tried to pry further.
“Is that why we’re so well off?”
“What do you mean?” he responded
“Well, because we were on the right side.”
“Sort of. Your ancestors were really just lucky enough to be one of those chosen to go to Mars. Most of the people in government didn’t want to leave. Some of them would even bribe officials on the selection committee to be taken out of the drawing. Your grandparents were one of the few that ended up going, and they were given much honor and respect among the lay people for that, but nothing in the way of money. No, you have just had some extraordinarily talented people in your family.”
“Really? Tell me about them, Dad!”
I can recall that at this moment, my father’s face flashed stone for a second, and then he turned and looked at me with a somewhat forced smile, and said “Well, Sheridan, I think it’s about time we head on back to the hotel, eh? Your mom and sister are probably waiting.”
You know, it occurred to me that the psychologist never said anything about this diary being private. I think I’m going to have to ask him about that tomorrow.
-Tyler Landrith
image from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:MarsTransitionV.jpg

Some Fiction (Part I)

This is a work in progress. Basically, in a fit of ambition, I started writing a novel a couple years ago. I wanted to create an intriguing world with believable characters through the lens of science fiction, but I never finished the project. Unfortunately, this seems to be the fate that most of my writing endeavors meet. I thought I would post a portion of what I wrote for public scrutiny (or, given the likelihood that anyone will read this, I am posting for my own scrutiny). There are several plot holes and inaccuracies that I haven't addressed, and I may edit these in the future, but probably not. In particular, I would like to change the names of the Martian colonies, and research more accurate Asian names. But here is a smattering of what I wrote for your perusal and enjoyment:
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There was always that hole. It seems like as long as I can remember, I’ve had this feeling that something is missing from my life. It’s not from lack of purpose. Farming is a good profession and my parents need me to take over once they are unable to manage the facilities. My sister couldn’t do it, she isn’t meant for the farm. My sister has been marked for the medical profession ever since she was very young. My parents are depending on me. I will admit though, that I envy my sister for being so clearly gifted for a specific profession. Everyone goes into farming, if the tests don’t demonstrate that they possess a particular aptitude for another occupation.
I suppose I should explain why I am writing this. The school psychiatrist recommended that I write down my thoughts to “sublimate my discontent.” The tests have indicated that I have an 89% chance of developing a pathologically rebellious personality. I remember my advisor pulling me out of class one morning and taking me to his office. The conversation went something like this:
“Sheridan Callahan, as you may well be aware, your tests have a indicated that you possess tendencies to show an abnormal lack of respect for authority. This is not a recipe for success. You are on the verge of adulthood, and as such will soon begin your career as a farmer. Now, we have two recommendations for you. We can either prescribe medication that will inhibit these tendencies, or we can advise you to undergo non-pharmaceutical therapy by the school psychiatric staff. I would personally advise you to take advantage of the second option, as it is a freedom not offered to underprivileged students due to its expense.”
So I “took advantage,” because it would “not be prudent to do otherwise,” according to my father. The school psychiatrist recommended that I participate in the traditional practice of writing a “diary.” According to him, from at least the 20th century A.D.T. until paper became a restricted product, it was a common practice among teenage girls, used as a way of diverting their discontent with their dependence on their parents. When he suggested that I try this, I told him that I didn’t know what to write about.
“Your thoughts,” he said.
“Why would I want to write those down?” I asked.
“It will help you gain a sense of balance, and hopefully as a result prevent you from engaging in any rash activity. Try to articulate your fears, desires, angers, any emotion you feel, try to write it down, and determine the source. Sometimes it helps to pretend someone is going to read it.”
“You said that it was something that girls did.”
“Sheridan, it doesn’t matter. Writing a diary can be just as beneficial to males as to females. Surely you wouldn’t be suggesting that you would like dredge up the most hypocritical aspects of 20th century Terran cultural practices? I suppose you would wouldn’t mind the return of those reality television shows that they watched back then? Perhaps you would like us to bring back the celebrity fund-raiser as well?”
You can’t say much to that. It would be hard to live down being accused of perpetuating the worst practices of ancient Earth. In any case, I really don’t know what people are worried about. I don’t see myself as rebellious, and I certainly don’t have a desire to shirk my responsibilities to my parents. Sometimes the tests are wrong. According to my Dad, if people hadn’t ignored the tests, than this entire world would probably never have been populated. But they never seem to talk about that in school. It’s always the same old story... “In 2403 A.D.T. the first Martian colonies were established. The settlers were a brave mix of people from all walks of life, who cared deeply about the fate of the planet Earth...” But that wasn’t the whole story at all. That’s what my Dad told me, anyways. I think that’s enough writing for today, though.
...............................................................................................................................
Brennus wiped the sweat from his brow. It was important that everything be in good shape, or else most of the crops would be ruined. He looked into the microscope and with bated breath, checked the plate. The cells were growing well. He would only have to change the medium, and tomorrow he would be able to put them into the seeder. He turned off the microscope, and touched the icon on the wallscreen to move the cells back into the incubator. He set the program to change the media, and then walked out of the lab, smiling broadly.
“I’ve gotta say, Dad, you’ve got a talented farmer for a son!” he shouted jovially as he passed through the kitchen, where his father was cooking some steak and chicken in a teriyaki sauce.
“You’d better watch that cocky attitude,” he shot back, grinning “don’t forget that I helped bring you into this world.”

-Tyler Landrith
image from http://www.fao.org/docrep/003/w3732e/w3732e04.jpg

Part II is in the next post

Why I'm writing this

Hey! This is my first post. I am a fourth year student at UC Davis majoring in biotechnology and following Jesus Christ. I am planning to use this blog as a way to exercise my creative side. As a science major, I don't use that side of my brain much, so I thought a blog would be a good outlet. Plus I sort of started a blog last year, but never got around to posting anything, and I had some extra time on my hands. It'll be interesting to see where this goes.