All about those plants

Let's take a break for a moment from my big Russian project for a moment, shall we? Because I want to talk to you about this book:

This book has got me hooked.
And it was a perfect read on a sunny day.
The plant in the background is Oxalis triangularis,
which is also known as false shamrock.

I've always been fascinated by plants, probably just as equally as by animals. I don't understand why many people are more interested with animals, ignoring these photosynthetic organisms and never realizing how important plants are to the ecosystem. That air we breathe? Its oxygen probably came from the Amazon rainforest. That burger patty? They're from cows whose whole life has been spent eating grass.

I still haven't finished Lab Girl though, but I am really enjoying it. I feel a certain affinity for Hope Jahren, as she's one to promote the importance of science. Scientists don't get much recognition, no? It's only now with this pandemic that we appreciate how invaluable their work is. I love how Jahren talks about how she started her laboratories. I feel her struggle. I know of a few friends who work in a laboratory, and they can attest how thankless their jobs can seem sometimes.

This is a tree from the bf's place.
Love how the sun shines through its branches
in the morning.

Jahren's passion for the study of plants really comes through in this book, which is enough to make me ponder about the plants around me. It's also made me think how fortunate that I live where there are plenty of green spaces. People always complain that our mall culture trumps our liking for parks. Unfortunately, yes, I agree. Because one, there aren't that many parks and garden in Metro Manila. It's a concrete jungle through and through. And two, the outside heat can be punishing, and malls do have air-conditioning, which is de rigueur for a tropical country.

But a well maintained garden is a treasure, and if the weather's just fine, staying in it could be the thing that gives our minds a repose. We should bathe our bodies in more greenery. I know we really need it these days, as our mental health has probably suffered because of lockdowns. To be surrounded by all these organisms—ones who take in sunlight, water, and carbon dioxide and then magically transform them to food—is blissful. To be in the company of a hundred-year-old tree is wonderful. To walk in a field of grass that's actually just one single plant is calming. That's why I love Lab Girl, because it celebrates plants and the people who study them.

The bf and I have been taking walks along the village lately.
I love these walks because trees and plants are plentiful in the
village. And it's quiet, although we do bump into a few hikers
every now and then.
Anyway, every time we pass by this house, I just have to take
a pic of this life-size brachiosaurus. So random.

A night talking about sci-fi books

A few SF novels beside my bed

The book club recently concluded our online read-along for science fiction. You can check out the online discussions here. As traditions go, we usually have a sort of meet-up to officially close the read-along. And compared to the monthly official discussions, the read-along meet-ups are pretty casual. We don't prepare discussion questions, we don't have any giveaways. We just talk about the books that we just read.

This time though, we decided to give the meet-up a little spin. Of course, we would still be talking about the 4 SF books that we've tackled: Jules Verne's Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea, Isaac Asimov's Foundation, Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, and Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash. But aside from that, we asked people to bring 1 SF book that they want to talk about with the rest of the group. So, we had a SF book pimp night!

Here are a few pictures that R. took during last Friday night's meet-up. It was great to meet Flippers again, even though we just met up last week for an official discussion. Our venue was Tutto Domani, a quaint restaurant in the heart of the business district. With its odd collection of weird thingies on display, Tutto Domani was perfect! The place was a bit noisy though, being a Friday night, but it was all good. I believe everyone had fun. I know I did.

During the discussion, one hot topic was the difference between SF and fantasy.
I think this statement says it all:
Science fiction expands our world; fantasy transcends it.

Blooey especially loved Fahrenheit 451.
The novel's beautiful language struck her.
She even likened Bradbury's writing with that of a classic author.

Me, in Tutto Domani, while waiting for people to show up
I loved the place's weird vibe. Everything's up for sale!
And the food's very, very good too.

I pimped John Wyndham's The Day of the Triffids.
Here I am showing Wyndham's illustrations of the predatory plant.
I wished I brought all my Wyndhams to show to the gang.

Arthur moderated the discussion for Foundation.
But he does have a bone to pick with other SF novels.
Such an SF geek, Arthur is.

Joko pimped the SF novels of Kurt Vonnegut.
Actually, Vonnegut's SF novel, The Sirens of Titan, is the book club's
official book for September, which Joko will be moderating.

Darwin moderated the discussion for Verne's novel.
He pimped one of my favorite SF novels ever—Dune! 
And Michelle, seated beside him, showed a very interesting book.
It has men with abs! I like! Hihihihi.

The guy in blue shirt, Anthony, is the owner of Tutto Domani.
Such a gracious host!
The bottom panel has Mitch, Gege, Marie, and me.
Marie moderated the online discussion of Snow Crash.

The SF gang
Last Friday's event was very nerdy indeed!

We did end up going home past 12 mn already. We couldn't stop talking about the SF books that we loved and hated. And we somehow managed to find ourselves from one restaurant to another restaurant during the night. Talking about SF books works up your appetite, I guess.

Being a genius is so overrated

Let's go back 50 years, shall we, dear reader? Back in 1959, Daniel Keyes wrote a novella entitled Flowers for Algernon, and it won the Hugo. A few years later, in 1966, Keyes expanded the storyline of this short fiction into a full length novel. That novel won the Nebula. Reading Flowers for Algernon for the first time this year, I am completely in awe how such an SF novel could still feel relevant.

Some SF novels don't hold up too well after several years. Besides appearing charmingly dated, they don't have that edge to them anymore. Flowers for Algernon is an exception, I think. With its themes of bioethics and one's place in society, it still makes for fascinating reading. I guess one major reason for its apparent timelessness is that it doesn't have heavy SF elements -- no flying saucers, no society on the brink of intergalactic warfare, no technological breakthroughs that are hard to swallow.

The novel focuses on one Charlie Gordon, one who has a neurological condition that resulted in his having an IQ of only in the 60s. For most people, Charlie is an idiot, and they take advantage of him because of it. Things start to change when Charlie decides to take part in an experiment that aims to increase his intelligence. This experiment does sound promising, after a mouse named Algernon was given the same treatment with remarkable results.

So Charlie is given the treatment and pretty soon, his intelligence soars! First he learns to correct all the spelling and grammatical mistakes in his journal. Then he learns more than 10 languages and delves into a wide variety of disciplines, from linguistics to the hard sciences. It's only a matter of time before he even becomes more intelligent than the scientists who conducted the experiment on him.

I feel that the novel's thesis has something to do with the sum total of our experiences and our natural abilities that make us unique individuals. Charlie becomes highly intelligent, but he's awkward at having relationships with women. He also finds it difficult to make moral decisions. It's as if his intelligence has now become a burden.

Things suddenly go bad when Algernon's condition declines. If Algernon can suddenly lose all its intelligence quickly, then surely Charlie would lose his too. It is this downward turn that makes Charlie look for his parents who have abandoned him to a mental institution when he was just a child. His meeting with his father is bittersweet. And when he meets his mother and sister in his childhood home, it is heartbreaking. Yes, Flowers for Algernon, can be one of the most heartbreaking novels that you'll ever come across.

I am glad that I finally picked this book up and read it without any expectations whatsoever. While it did win both the Hugo and the Nebula, I'm not at all familiar with the SF genre for this fact to have any significant merit. I admire Keyes for having written such a timeless novel. A lot of people consider this work a classic, and I think this thinking is justified. Call it a cliche or whatever, but Flowers for Algernon is one novel that tugs at your heart.

Read this book if:

1. You have a particular attachment to small mammals.
2. You aren't afraid of crying buckets.
3. You're comfortable with your IQ level.

Age is not just a number

If there were such a thing as a cure for aging, would you take it? Imagine yourself looking exactly the same for several years, unhampered by wrinkles, age spots, back pains, etc. Sounds tempting, right? Such is the premise of Drew Magary's Arthur C. Clarke-nominated novel, The Postmortal.

In 2019, a gene therapy process has been perfected, one that allows your body to stop the aging process. This cure for aging does not guarantee that you'll live forever though. People who have the cure administered to them can die from fatal diseases and gunshot wounds. One John Farrell decides to take this cure and write about his experiences.

In The Postmortal, we get to read the entries written by Farrell. I guess that's why Christopher Priest lambasted this book for being backward looking, which isn't common in the SF genre. Farrell's entries begin at the time he got the cure to several decades after when society has broken down because of the ramifications of the cure.

So Farrell, a lawyer, gets the cure, specializes in divorce law, witnesses a terrorist bombing that kills his roommate, and ultimately becomes an 'end specialist'. Cut to several years when basically everyone has had the cure. Of course, population has increased, and the government has employed people called end specialists who are tasked to kill people with death wishes. It's a dirty job that Farrell excels at.

It's not just the plot of The Postmortal that makes it a very interesting read. I got hooked because of the many situations that it presents and the questions that left me thinking. If I got the cure and was married to someone, would I also get a divorce after a few years? After all, one couldn't imagine living with the same person for several decades, yes?

And what about if I know someone with a death wish, would I be willing to do the deed myself? After all, that overpopulated world would surely benefit from one less mouth to feed, no? And if I were a doctor, would I be giving the cure to someone who is, say, 80 years old, knowing that that person would stay 80 forever? Or would I just give him a placebo and let him go through his natural course of life?

The world that Magary conjures in The Postmortal is fascinating in a disturbing kind of way. Even though no one younger than 26 is allowed to get the cure, we know that there will be deviations. Here we see babies who will forever be in liquid food just because their mothers don't want them to grow up. We read about 'barely legal' prostitutes, the Chinese government which has never allowed the cure and opted to tattoo on babies their birth dates just to monitor if they do get the cure, and over-the-top parties to celebrate one's getting the cure.

I loved The Postmortal. Aside from being a thriller, it's also a thinking novel. It made me reflect on a lot of issues such as what happens if society gets whatever it wants and if people did really live for a long time. I hope it wins the Arthur C. Clarke award.

Read this novel if:

1. You like your thrillers to be thinking novels too.
2. You'll read anything that's nominated for an Arthuc C. Clarke award.
3. You know that age is more than just a number.

The foundation gets to you

You are in a bookstore, waiting for your dear friend who's stuck in traffic and has no way of knowing what time he'll get there. You wander around aimlessly until you reach that section of the bookstore you least explore -- the science fiction section. You scan the first few novels, the ones with authors whose surnames start with A.

You reach for that Asimov, temporarily attracted to that bright orange color. You read that it's Foundation, one of the author's seminal novels (probably one of the seminal novels in the whole SF genre). You turn to page 1. You see your friend has finally arrived. You look at the book in your hand. You are surprised that you're on page 30. You are hooked. You see your friend heading to the register, buying that book for you. You smile. You get the validation that patience, indeed, is a virtue.

You get home at the end of the day anxious to finish the book. You are unfazed by esoteric concepts such as psychohistory, polymath, and the Encyclopedia Galactica. You don't mind that sections of the novel appear dated, for they are, in a way, charming and lend a feeling that what you are holding is an SF classic. You finish Foundation in the middle of the night. You are blown away.

You quickly recall what the novel is about. You know that it has to do with a group of scientists being exiled to a faraway part of the universe to prevent the collapse of humankind. You think that this isn't too farfetched at all, given the technology. You Google. You find out that you do have to read the rest of the Foundation novels to appreciate the storyline fully.

You talk about the first Foundation novel with some of your friends from the book club. You hear the same thing. You just need to get your hands on the rest of Asimov's brilliant creation, or at least read the trilogy (Foundation, Foundation and Empire, and Second Foundation). You come up with a plan on your book retail activities, somehow channeling the foreshadowing idea in the gripping first novel.

You blog about your experience, of course. You write an entry with each sentence beginning with 'you'. You pray that your readers won't be turned off by the over-usage of the second person pronoun.

You read this book if:

1. You love classic SF.
2. You want to know what the fuss is all about and why this book has been continuously in print since 1951.
3. You're a sucker for anything Asimov.

Making whoopee in the animal kingdom

Sex is good. Every one should be having it. If done correctly -- if it lasts for more than 3 minutes -- it can be quite addicting. Of course, technically, you should be doing it only with members of your species -- males, females, transexuals, transgendereds, and what have you. Dendrophilia (dry humping on trees) isn't sex; you just can't expect the tree to achieve an orgasm just because someone is rubbing himself on its bark. Also, the assumption here is that you do it with living members of the species. Necrophilia is so not cool. No one should be doing it.

Now, if you think our sex lives and habits are totally amazing and worth writing about, you may be surprised to find out that our sexual behavior can be quite conservative compared with that in animal kingdom. We shouldn't really boast about how we can keep it up for 3 hours straight; that doesn't stand up to stick insects, which can do the dirty deed for 10 days straight. This fascinating info can be found in Olivia Judson's brilliant book, Dr. Tatiana's Sex Advice to All Creation.

This very interesting and engaging book is in the form of letters written by animals and sent to Dr. Tatiana, who posts replies that are very fun to read as much as they're truly informative. Judson's take on some of the peculiar sexual habits of selected animals are no-nonsense. You find yourself unconsciously nodding and laughing as you read. Who would've ever thought that some female insects can literally hop from one male to another, collecting sperm and then finally choosing the batch of insect male-juice that she likes?

There's just so many things to learn and ideas to take in when you read this book. Certainly, some of these can be conversational pieces the next time you attend a party and you find yourself in a group that discusses foreplay. Except among humans, foreplay is practically nonexistent in the animal kingdom. It's such a total waste of time and energy. It's either you want to boink someone or not, period. And what about the cuddling and the obligatory cigarette after sex? Bah! Some monkeys would just rather move on to their next mate than stay around and talk about when they'll be seeing each other again. It's the perfect NSA thing -- meet, mate, then meet and mate others. How European. (For the clueless and those who're pretending not to know, NSA means "no strings attached" or, umm, "never say ahloveyou.")

Insect sex (insex?)

Dr. Tatiana's Sex Advice to All Creation debunks certain myths about sex. One of the prevailing ideas that Judson has issues with is the Bateman's principle -- "men are cads, women are saints." Judson finds this thinking wrong for several reasons. Certainly, this principle isn't worth its salt when scientists observe frogs that seem to copulate as if there were no tomorrow. A significant number of female animal species definitely stand a better chance of producing better offspring if they mate with several males of their species. Who says promiscuity is restricted to males? Definitely not some female rabbits who just can't seem to have enough " throbbing carrots" of male rabbits.

Judson does make references to our sexual habits as well. In primates, for instance, the bigger the balls of the male species are, the more promiscuous the females. It's biology pure and simple. If your females are particularly fond of the "bananas that stiffen upon contact," then you should make sure that you can deliver as much of your "banana cream." Compared with other primates, the balls of human males are just average. So, yes, human females are less promiscuous than other primates. The operative word here is "less."

Why you should read this book:

1. Olivia Judson is a hottie. She has a picture at the title page.
2. You're way too preoccupied with sex that you just have to read something about it.
3. You're not getting any.