• Fiction,  Sci-Fi,  Story

    Story: A Sense of Smell

    The day they first sold TVs with the capability to dispense odours, they sold more TVs then ever before. Linus was sitting at home after unpacking his new pleasure device for him and his family. They eagerly watched the first program, it was a news show, and it did not support smell yet. Disappointing start. “That stinks” his wife muttered with a broad grin. After impatiently skipping the non-smelly channels, a strong sense of being in nature struck him. It was as if the stank of their appartment had vanished and been replaced by a wooden aroma, a planty vibe, he almost felt the wind, but not quite. All of them looked pleased, the light of the huge new TV flickering on their faces, nobody averting their gaze. Linus’s daughter gave a loud uncontrolled “Ewww”, and the rest of the folks didn’t look happy either when the next channel came on. Just a guy walking through an alley in a new movie, the smell of garbage was penetrating their nostrils.

    After fiddling around for a second Linus hastily dialed down the intesity via the remote. The following asian channel featured a guy in a white room, nothing going on. No smell for some reason. “They always were weird” his wife mumbeled while rolling her big eyes. Linus waited for a bit before switching the channel. “This is supposed to be a channel that supports smell, let’s give them a chance, maybe I did set the levels too low.” He turned it up to maximum.

    They never again switched channels, their rotten corpses still sit there, watching the white room 5 month later. As was the rest of the population. The only guy alive was Yun Lee, sitting in his kitchen beside a white room with his dog. After all, Yun never did like humans.

  • Curiosity,  Inspiration,  Slowness

    Take the scenic route to an answer

    How high is the Mount Everest?

    Let’s say you are curious about that question. You type it into Google and you know immediately, that it is 8,848 meters high.  Your curiosity is satisfied on the spot. You don’t even have to go to Wikipedia anymore, it’s right there on the results page. You can literally type that question into the search box and it tells you the exact answer. How very boring.

    Now, consider not having access to Google. How high is the Mount Everest? Phew…

    Maybe you have an encyclopedia lying around at home, you could look up the Mount Everest in there. I certainly don’t own one after so many years with Google helping me along. So, I guess an excursion to the library is what it takes. When you arrive, you may go to the travel section or ask the staff where they have general encyclopedias lying around, or if they happen to have a book on the biggest mountain on the planet.
    While looking up your fact, you may come across other interesting information. Maybe that the Tibetans call it something like Holy Mother. You might wonder why they call it that, and the book in your hands does not answer that. You find your fact, the Mount Everest is 8,848 meters high. And you may have found something else, curiosity. Unanswered questions. Probably three interesting looking books, you may have talked to the staff, used your legs, maybe think about travelling there sometime, think about what Mount Everest may sound like in Tibetian and wonder how they measure that height.

    It cost you more time, for sure, but sometimes you got more out of it than you expected, some mysteries that last you a long time and a few information gaps you’d like to close. So consider taking the scenic road to an answer.

    If you’d like to read more about curiosity, i can recommend the book Curious by Ian Leslie.

     

  • Inspiration,  Writing

    Run Forest Run

    The monster in your imagination is like a huge, frightening shadow of a little cute cat. That cat is reality. Now I’m not saying reality is never hard or dangerous, but I am saying your imagination, or at least mine, is, most of the time, a hell of a lot more menacing.

    What I love about writing, I think, I never tried, is something I appreciate in a lot of things of similar nature. It is easy to learn, hard to master. Given that you can read and form sentences, there is not much holding you back from flooding a page with your creations. No need for it to be interesting or even make sense, but writing something of meaning to others, that also satisfies that tiny soul sitting comfortably behind your eyes, that’s hard, or at least not easy.

    This is the easiest thing ever though, as I ramble I feel like Forste Gump shattering his prostheses while sprinting beyond his previous limitations. I was frozen, as are many of you, I am sure. But it’s actually not cool to be frozen, it’s agonizing. It’s like standing in front of a shop window, inches away from what you want, but still not able to grab it.

    This is my attempt at grabbing it, or at least pulling my hands out of my pocket.