Gardener of Thoughts

The novel

Hopefully, I will write one day a science-fiction novel, called Gardener of Thoughts. The bad part is that it will probably take years to be ready.

Why is it "Gardener" and not "Gardeners"? Because it is a praise to the individual, because each individual must become a Gardener by his own efforts.

Below are some teasers, none with stuff being blown up or anything like that, yet :) I don't know if these excerpts will actually be part of the novel, or if they will remain unchanged, but it's likely so.

Anyway, just because of these excerpts, you should not believe that the novel is closer than a bunch of years :)

Warning: some excerpts may include sexual content. These excerpts are so marked. Artistic or not, you might not want to read sexual content.

Software

I am writing the novel using myBase. This is a note management software.

Although there are many of this kind out there, I chose this because it has:

Tree for node (= note title) management.
Links to tree nodes in the text of a note.
Tree nodes may have related items which are links to other tree nodes.
Navigation history for nodes.
Color and font face customization for both the tree and the text editor.
Global formatting settings for writing plain text, in particular paragraph spacing.
Ability to customize the user interface down to a basic window, for a clean view.
It's missing: docking for the window with items found during an advanced search, (real-time) spellcheck.

License terms

The novel name ("Gardener of Thoughts") and the novel itself or excerpts from it are exclusive property of George Gabriel Hara and may be used or reproduced only with express approval. None of them is released under the Common Sense License.

The novel excerpts published below may be reproduced only accompanied by the author's name: George Gabriel Hara.

Excerpt

Excerpt from "Gardener of Thoughts", by George Gabriel Hara, published on 08.08.2007.

Slowly, the Democracy has insidiously infiltrated its control over virtually all aspects of society's and of an individual's life, suffocating choice.

Slowly, the Democracy held higher and higher the claims of do-goodism in whose name it plucked its claws into the choice of the individual, it ripped its heart out and exhibited it as pray of war against the things which threaten the flock's control.

Slowly, have individuals lost control over their own lives.

Slowly, have individuals ignored or watched powerlessly how the Leaders of Democracy robbed them of privacy and choice. Little by little, have individuals thought that tiny things do not matter, and chose not to fight to preserve their natural abilities against those who wanted people stripped of power.

They have watched how Leaders were taking away one choice at a time, each perhaps irrelevant to most individuals, but when you compare the Freedom of an individual from a few decades back with that of a today's individual, you can see the difference between a wild horse and a cattle.

But what can an individual do to preserve control over his own life, what can he do against the Leaders who want to control his life, who want his obedience, who want his money to finance their machinations, who want his body striped naked and caged, who want his mind reprogrammed.

How can an individual vote these Leaders out of their jobs? How can an individual vote these Leaders out of His Life?

What can an individual do when these Leaders have the rhetorical ability to convince most people that Freedom is irrelevant?

What can an individual do when these Leaders have the ability to spread fear of the unknown in people's minds so that the flock would not fight against them, but would obey instead?

The flock eats individual choice alive and spits it dead in disgust.

What can an individual do when the flock thinks that the theft (through taxation) of half of what billions of people produce is the right thing to do, for there is only One Moral to enforce? Yesterday it was considered theft when the aristocrats took their share from the peasant's production, today it is considered a duty to pay taxes. They say to you: we have to protect you from yourself. And they shout at you.

What can an individual do when the flock thinks that the dogmatization (through state regulated schools) of billions of children's minds is the right thing to do, for there is only One Truth to enforce? Yesterday it was considered an honor to learn and a privilege to be taught, today the "right to learn" is shoved down your throat or through whatever hole you have available, until your mind is full of it. They say to you: like it or not, you must remember whatever we tell you. And they growl at you.

What can an individual do when the flock thinks that the rape (through extorted medical examinations) of billions of people's bodies is the right thing to do, for there is only One Way to enforce? Yesterday rapists were rammed or castrated, today it is considered shameful to protect your body from the eyes or hands of another. They say to you: you have nothing that others don't have and we haven't seen. And they laugh at you.

How can an individual defend himself against the religion by which such atrocious crimes, like theft and rape, perpetrated against billions of people are considered the right thing to do in the pursuit of... what? ... of happiness?... of whom?... of the robbed and of the raped?

How can an individual vote to have these monsters shot dead and their cadavers burned so that not even a single molecule with their ferocious DNA could survive to spread their crimes against humanity?

But most importantly, how can an individual watch still how these Leaders spread their tentacles throughout the Galaxy, and out... there... in Infinity? How can an individual not break down convulsively and watch in tears, gasping for Freedom, how Evil becomes Moral?

... There is a Way... a way which doesn't drown the mind in hate... a hard way... for harsh people... people who either hide the crimes of the Leaders in the back of their minds in order to protect themselves from Pain, or are conscious of the crimes but are also able to confront their suffering... This Way is to survive against all odds, to build in spite all obstacles, to create enough Freedom so that the individuals of the future could have different paths to choose from. This Way is called Evolution.

Excerpt

Warning: sexual content included.

Excerpt from "Gardener of Thoughts", by George Gabriel Hara, published on 08.08.2007.

A dark, thin stream of blood. A pelvis. Thighs. A woman's thighs. Her thighs pushed wide open by a man's thighs.

The Pain was traveling at an infernal speed through his neurons and dendrites. Chemicals colliding, smashing pathways, axons and synapses collapsing under the pressure of countless explosions of ions.

Defloration. The man's penis thrusting into the woman's engorged vulva, rhythmically and strongly, feeling to him like canon fires pounding against a fort's walls.

The Pain was so great that his mind was gasping for relief every second, like it was on the brink of suffocation. Time flew backwards to rewind The Moment. One fraction of a second suspended in Eternity: Defloration. The hymen being torn and bleeding, the pain deaf to the woman's suffering. Neurons breaking apart while billions of synapses were flashing, triggered as an avalanche by the unuttered cry to stop The Universe, overwhelming any sense of Reality, threw him into the web of delusions.

But Time doesn't stop for just anybody, and cracks were surfacing on his cortex, scarring his emotions.

History faded, the future turned into history, the lovers' bodies turned to dust and fed the embryos of galaxies. Was there a woman in the past? Was there a Lover? What for? For bones turned to ashes? Was it two seconds ago, or was it billions of years ago? Or was this the future? The Moment flashed again into his mind as he crumbled spasmodically, but his eyes were too old to see it clearly through the mist of the never-ending, burning Pain.

Galaxies, clusters of them... Life... all connected... yet so unimportant when faced to that... that Symbol... that pitiful instinct to be with someone, to be with a woman, to blend and procreate... not his child, but THEIR child.

Pain... Desperation... Anger... Hate... No! Why should She belong to another man? Aaaa...! Her thighs lusting for another man! For nobody! But no, that was the man she wanted, the man she had given herself to, the man who took away from him The Moment, his moment with her.

Resignation. She was lost forever, The Symbol was lost forever. Emotions were bouncing against his wounded mind. Why must he lust for women? Why must there be men and women? To bind the species, of course. It's so clear now, but so painful to understand, so painful to live it consciously.

Work is better, work doesn't betray, work is rewarding... but it is not Lustful... ahhh! How can humans survive the lack of instinctual fulfillment, how can they survive the Pain?

Is there any purity left? Any at all??? Yes, it is coming and going, without stopping, without caring for an individual. But the individual cares about Purity. An individual can choose and chase Purity. But at what cost? Aaahhh!!! There is no way out except surviving Pain!

The loss of a Dream. The Death of a Symbol. The image faded. The pain withdrew. The mind adapted to suffer less. The first sign of its degradation: care less and less so that it would suffer less and less. But what could be done? The pain is just overwhelming. Better this than hating Her.