Christianity. Millions believe there's a light at the end of the tunnel. We believe it, yet we can't see it, touch it, hear it, smell it, or taste it. It's sort of like someone placed an infared or ultraviolet light at the end, so we can't see it. Yet we believe it's there. We have hope, yet, (excluding logical reasoning and such), no reason for it.
A Series of Unfortunate Events. Today, I thought of the main characters of ASoUE (I don't care to spell out their name, thank you very much) running down a tunnel, to a light which they could see, but the author had a switch to and decided to turn off just seconds before the trio got to it. Then, they, with eternal hope and optimism, found a (the) switch and switched it back. Then they repeated the thing over and over.
Ender's Game. This book was very, very good. It was gripping, though, for some reason, I put it down more, I think, for that very reason. The end, though, was much like this. They lived. Ever after. But leave out the happily bit. For reasons mainly leaving information undisclosed from the reader, that's all I'll say. In my mind, it's like the main character found that there was no light at the end of the tunnel, and decided to start looking for it.
Books these days are so strange. I hope mine isn't anything like them. I want you to laugh. I want you to cry. But I don't want you to get depressed. I don't want to leave you thinking there's any chance that there isn't a light at the end of the tunnel.
But, then, when I look at it from the outside, that seems to mean I've got to give up plans of killing off Jack...
Your confused, sinful, and non-generically blockheaded reporter and writer,
!Noah!
No comments:
Post a Comment