sentiment I have attached to them.
In the world as it is now, we use fiction and entertainment in general less and less over time as a means of escape. Part of that is sheer necessity due to the lack of enough electricity for most folks to be able to do something as simple as watching a movie. People still read, of course, but the strain on our time that it takes is harder to justify every day. I'm not saying that we should give up our books or movies or what have you. I think that would be a dramatic gesture at best, with little sincerity to it. I'm just saying that I've noticed a trend, or rather that I realized one was happening, and it blows me away.
Think of it in terms of a visual illusion. You look at the picture one way, and see the vase. Then you relax your eyes and see that instead of a vase, it's two old ladies facing each other. The mind-blowing part isn't in the realization that there are actually two images present. It's in the fact that once you see it, you can never look at that picture without seeing both images. It's the same with the stacks of books and movies around my house.
I see them, and remember the feeling I had when I read about the heroes and villains within. How they made me feel. From Kvothe to Indiana Jones, Gandalf to Luke Skywalker, the sense-memories of late nights in dim light spent reading while immersed in my own imagination are strong. The smell of popcorn and the cool breeze of a dark theater tickle my mind when I hear the opening themes to my favorite films. These memories and sensations are so deeply rooted in my mind that I can never forget them, nor do they lose their impact.
But now a new set of feelings runs parallel with them. When I think about cracking open a book or start rifling through the DVDs in my office, I see them as antiques. Sad, old things that are shiny and new, but still relics of an era that has irreversibly passed. It's a little like living with the ghosts of old friends, seeing them when I sit down to work and hurting a little as I think about what has gone.
I've been thinking about this all morning, and the further realization just hit me: the people that died yesterday don't even have that. They made it through The Fall and more than a year of survival only to meet their end at the hands of people who would have been happy to take them in, had their hunger-addled minds not driven them to become dangerous. I grieve for them, for the potential that was lost with their passing, though I didn't know them. I wish things had been different. I would have shared my thoughts with them.
Maybe we could have taken comfort in one another as we mourned the passing of an age.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Gassing Up
Posted by Josh Guess
I'm out of the compound right now, doing a little exploring with Jamie and a squad of scouts. It's a lovely, crisp day to be out dodging zombies and enjoying the sunshine. You'd think that in all the time we've been searching Frankfort for food and supplies that we'd have hit pretty much everywhere, but that isn't the case.
We're all taking a lunch break right now, and as we're right at the edge of a cell tower's reception I thought I'd take a few minutes and post.
There are a few places around the county that we've ignored up until now. Most everything else has been easy pickings, but the need to conserve fuel and the limited amounts of things we can bring back because of that has made us stay relatively close to home. Unless we're out on a longer trip out of town, of course, but those tend to be well worth the time and effort we put into them.
Now, though, we're able to manage a little better, and we're heading out into the Bald Knob (and no, I'm not making that name up) area of the county. It's all country out there, lots of farm land and heavy woods. We're hoping to find some livestock that we can slaughter, and maybe keep some to bring back to the closer farms for breeding.
How are we able to use fuel with such casual
In the world as it is now, we use fiction and entertainment in general less and less over time as a means of escape. Part of that is sheer necessity due to the lack of enough electricity for most folks to be able to do something as simple as watching a movie. People still read, of course, but the strain on our time that it takes is harder to justify every day. I'm not saying that we should give up our books or movies or what have you. I think that would be a dramatic gesture at best, with little sincerity to it. I'm just saying that I've noticed a trend, or rather that I realized one was happening, and it blows me away.
Think of it in terms of a visual illusion. You look at the picture one way, and see the vase. Then you relax your eyes and see that instead of a vase, it's two old ladies facing each other. The mind-blowing part isn't in the realization that there are actually two images present. It's in the fact that once you see it, you can never look at that picture without seeing both images. It's the same with the stacks of books and movies around my house.
I see them, and remember the feeling I had when I read about the heroes and villains within. How they made me feel. From Kvothe to Indiana Jones, Gandalf to Luke Skywalker, the sense-memories of late nights in dim light spent reading while immersed in my own imagination are strong. The smell of popcorn and the cool breeze of a dark theater tickle my mind when I hear the opening themes to my favorite films. These memories and sensations are so deeply rooted in my mind that I can never forget them, nor do they lose their impact.
But now a new set of feelings runs parallel with them. When I think about cracking open a book or start rifling through the DVDs in my office, I see them as antiques. Sad, old things that are shiny and new, but still relics of an era that has irreversibly passed. It's a little like living with the ghosts of old friends, seeing them when I sit down to work and hurting a little as I think about what has gone.
I've been thinking about this all morning, and the further realization just hit me: the people that died yesterday don't even have that. They made it through The Fall and more than a year of survival only to meet their end at the hands of people who would have been happy to take them in, had their hunger-addled minds not driven them to become dangerous. I grieve for them, for the potential that was lost with their passing, though I didn't know them. I wish things had been different. I would have shared my thoughts with them.
Maybe we could have taken comfort in one another as we mourned the passing of an age.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Gassing Up
Posted by Josh Guess
I'm out of the compound right now, doing a little exploring with Jamie and a squad of scouts. It's a lovely, crisp day to be out dodging zombies and enjoying the sunshine. You'd think that in all the time we've been searching Frankfort for food and supplies that we'd have hit pretty much everywhere, but that isn't the case.
We're all taking a lunch break right now, and as we're right at the edge of a cell tower's reception I thought I'd take a few minutes and post.
There are a few places around the county that we've ignored up until now. Most everything else has been easy pickings, but the need to conserve fuel and the limited amounts of things we can bring back because of that has made us stay relatively close to home. Unless we're out on a longer trip out of town, of course, but those tend to be well worth the time and effort we put into them.
Now, though, we're able to manage a little better, and we're heading out into the Bald Knob (and no, I'm not making that name up) area of the county. It's all country out there, lots of farm land and heavy woods. We're hoping to find some livestock that we can slaughter, and maybe keep some to bring back to the closer farms for breeding.
How are we able to use fuel with such casual
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