If you're at all interested in theology and religious questions, this will probably be an interesting book to you. Richard Dawkins is a crusader for atheism and what he essentially sets out to do in The God Delusion is to encourage people to embrace atheism, chiefly those who either aren't quite sure about it, and those who feel atheist but fear admit to it.

I should say from the beginning that if you are religious, you should read this book with an open mind. Dawkins is aggressive, and at times arrogant. He basically calls out agnostics as a pathetic fence sitting bunch that should just get with the program already. And he doesn't stop there, with phrases like "an imaginary God" he is sure to ruffle feathers. I can't say I enjoy this type of expression, it is divisive and negative. But he certainly is a lot more than a troll. And that's why you shouldn't let this aspect of the book deter you. His approach as a scientist is still for the most part completely scientific, quoting results of studies on the various topics that are being discussed.

However, his belligerence towards religion does raise one (of many) very important point. As it is, religion lives a very sheltered life in our society. You can criticize and condemn just about anything you please, but you may not say a bad word about religion. This is such an ingrained part of our culture, and no one will think to question this. I think Dawkins is absolutely right in saying that religion should face the same scrutiny as everything else, and precisely because it is so important to people. Why *should* religion be the sacred cow?

What I see as the main value of the book, however, is that many claims that are made about religion in general and specific religions as well. For example, religions like to claim morality. Religious leaders like to say that it is through religion that people are moral and that without religious rules we wouldn't know how to establish our ethics. Dawkins disputes this violently, by saying that scripture is extremely ambiguous on morals and that studies have shown that people with no exposure to religion whatsoever have the same values as religious people do. This to me is perhaps the single most interesting point made.

Another fascinating point is a theory about where religion actually comes from. In terms of evolution, Dawkins suggests that religion is a cultural artifact, a byproduct of our evolutionary process, that has proven sufficiently attractive for us to cultivate it.

In what goes more towards advocacy, in his quest to promote atheism, he is eager to show how religion is destructive in all sorts of way. This too may be instructive, as it brings out how there are a lot of things about religion that we do not notice very much. In particular, Dawkins makes a point of saying that moderate religion is indeed dangerous, because it fosters an environment in which extremist religion is possible.

One final issue that makes Dawkins's blood boil is the indoctrination of children into religion by their parents. This is essentially how religion is perpetuated, and it's a pretty thought provoking issue when you think about it.

I've never read a philosophical argument before I started Plato's The Republic. The book is basically one long argument, it's quite interesting. Socrates is debating (or explaining, rather) his thoughts on justice to his friends. That's the core of the argument. From there on, he touches on a plethora of other issues, all of which is tied together to fit his rather succinct argument.

For the most part it's quite straightforward reading, you just have to make sure you have a clear understanding of the terms that are used, because they are meant in the full capacity of their meaning. In parts, especially when he explains what is good, it's harder to follow and it takes some concentration.

What strikes me about this kind of argument is that it could easily be criticized on its lack of completeness. I suppose it is inevitable that if you want to pursue a philosophical argument, then you have to agree to accept certain claims in the argument to be completely true, even though you wonder if you could find counter examples. This is what Socrates's friends do, they accept every claim to be true in its full meaning, even when sometimes I don't necessarily support that conviction.

Plato writes with a great mastery of expression. He repeats things once or twice, for ease of recollection, but never more than that. He always uses words exactly to their meaning, never having to digress to explain something that could have been said in one word. This kind of succinctness (but at the same time broad enough to follow easily, not cutting too much) is quite remarkable to witness.

In terms of practical results, Socrates describes facets of man, like justice, wisdom, knowledge, and how they interrelate. He uses many comparisons to sketch the similarities between a just man and a just city. These characteristics of man are examined on the scale of a city, and then applied to man. In this way he describes different forms of government, and the perfect form of government (and by implication - of man).

It's a book that contains a great richness of thought, knowledge, and wisdom. So for a complete appreciation I believe it should be digested and analyzed piecemeal.

Funny story. I read an excerpt from this book back in high school in English class. And although we weren't going to read the whole book, there was something in that one chapter or one section that strongly appealed to me. What I don't know is what it was. At the time we were doing a lot of reading, so although I was interested, it wasn't practical to pick up the book then and there. Then I forgot about it, and as it is with memories, you never know when you'll remember what you once forgot. So over the years the idea has returned a couple of times, and I didn't act on it. Until a couple of months ago when I actively started looking for it.

The book is Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man. And the odd thing is that as I was reading, I kept anticipating that I would remember what it was I liked about it, that "aah, here it is" feeling. But.. it didn't come. So I had the strange sensation of searching for what it was that was supposed to strike me about the book.

The story is told in a first person narrative. The protagonist is a youth from the South whose life story is skimmed with the crucial parts described in detail. He finds himself in New York, where the plot culminates. It is a familiar account (and in fact the character also comes to understand this at the end) of how a wide eyed, well intentioned kid, who is always trying to do the right thing, is raised up into the cold world where no one cares about him. How trying to please everyone, and never straying from the path, is itself filled with a danger of never seeing the truth behind things, of staying naive and ignorant forever. Or rather, until life forces that much more cruel reality upon you, which will happen sooner or later.

There is some kind of despair in this truth I think, because I tend to see people as one of two types. There are those who always try to be correct, to obey their parents, to do what people expect of them. Then there are those who challenge authority. And well since I was never the former, I suspect that those who always try to be correct do so out of fear that otherwise they will get in trouble, make life harder for themselves. And as long as they stay on the path, they will always be safe. And there's a fallacy in that, because there isn't always a path, the path may end at some point, and you have to make a choice until it continues again. Not only that, as long as you have that mindset of following a path set out for you, you're also vulnerable to malicious influence. Because who decides how you should live? If you don't feel up to it, and you let someone guide you, how can you be sure that they will not abuse your confidence in them?

And as a big, happy coincidence, we land right back in the crux of the story. ;) The character, whom Ellison actually does not mention by name, is led by various people in his life, diligently following that path made out for him. The baton passes from one authority figure to the next, as his life progresses. Until eventually, after many deceptions, in their various forms, he frees his mind of the notion that anyone but himself should decide how he should lead his life. In fact, this decision is made right at the end, and exactly what he decides to do is not said.

A more obvious central theme here is plain simply race. Ellison ranges from describing the most primitive notions of racial distinction, in downright vile scenes of drunkenness and complete indecency, to [which is interesting] a far more refined and sophisticated racial discrimination, among people who consider themselves great thinkers, and strong believers in scientific method. As in a cartoon, the culmination of the story is a great social breakdown as riots break out in Harlem, looting, clashes with the police, all of which is described through a fog of confusion and contrasting ideals within the character.

One very strong contrast is the character's social significance, which ranges drastically from completely meaningless, to greatly influential. And moreover this distinction is muddled through the character's own fluctuating perception of that reality.

It is somewhat difficult to offer a conclusion about the book, I'm at a loss in what it is supposed to convey if not.. everything.

I think that reading classics generally comes with a certain expectation, that since this work is so famous and acclaimed, it should be truly captivating in some way. Often this is not the case. Of course, there is to consider the time in which the work was produced, but some works have this timeless quality to them, and some do not.

"Don Quijote de la Mancha" is a superbly influential work, and apparently very "modernistic" for its time. And that is something I would not dispute, it really does have that kind of timeless quality to it. But it still falls short of the kind of work that a classic is expected to be.

The premise of Don Quixote is amusing, but the story is very long and in essence not very much more is said mid way than is said in the first chapter. Don Quixote and Sancho Panza are well spoken characters with substance, but their adventures are quite shallow and simplistic. This is amplified by the fact that through the course of their history, they encounter a host of characters whose stories sometimes are near identical.

In fact, one wonders if this is not a children's book, because the structure of the stories is so simple, and so obvious after the first few chapters, that a child could easily follow it.

Originally posted by Shakespeare:

- Claudius kills Hamlet (sr), becomes King.
- Hamlet (jr) kills Polonius.
- Claudius tries to kill Hamlet, fails.
- Hamlet kills Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
- Ophelia kills herself.
- Claudius poisons Gertrude, the Queen, by accident.
- Laertes and Hamlet poison each other.
- Hamlet kills Claudius, then dies from the poison.

Rated R for violence and strong language.

The plot is like a Lethal Weapon movie. However, the weapons are different, and there aren't any explosions.

But I gotta say the play is still enjoyable for the artistic dialog. While the plot is boring and obvious, the small talk entertains your mind, I like that.

Hamlet: Begger that I am, I am euen poore in thankes;
but I thanke you: and sure deare friends my thanks
are too deare a halfepeny; were you not sent for? Is it
your owne inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come,
deale iustly with me: come, come; nay speake

Guildenstern: What should we say my Lord?

Hamlet: Why any thing. But to the purpose; you were
sent for; and there is a kinde confession in your lookes;
which your modesties haue not craft enough to color,
I know the good King & Queene haue sent for you

The King sent him to talk to Hamlet. Guildenstern doesn't want to admit it, but doesn't deny it. Hamlet calls his bluff. What a fun way to talk.

Also, if Shakespeare's editor had done proper fact checking, he would know Poland and Norway have never been at war. Poland and Sweden, indeed.

Hamlet should be read at leisure, like a Donald Duck comic book. Anyone expecting some grand revelation is in for a big disappointment. In fact, better read Erik's play, which is more intricate.