Oblivion is all that’s out there waiting for you at the end of this life. That’s what TFiOS would have you believe. I beg to differ.

Now, I have a big job ahead of me. Atheists must believe that oblivion is all that’s out there waiting for you, and that everything, in the end, only matters for the now. WARNING: DIGRESSION: Hazel justified this when she said that some infinities are bigger than other infinities. After all, what’s the use in doing something that isn’t infinite, lasting, and ALWAYS there? <DIGRESSIONCEPTION:> Just like the love between Isaac and his girlfriend wasn’t amazing was that it wasn’t an ALWAYS thing. Just another point from John saying why infinity is what matters, and I agree. </DIRGRESSIONCEPTION> We humans strive for something that matters, something infinite. If this world is all there is, then how can anything be lasting? Hazel says that thing in this world are infinities worth striving for, while many theists (and Gus) would say that this world is about an accomplishment of worth in the infinite Somewhere after this world. I’m going to say why the theists are right and attempt to put an argument that’s been passed down from millennia into 500 words taking examples from a Young Adult book. Here goes.

First off, TFiOS certainly agrees with morality. There is right and wrong. I concur.

Now, where does this morality come from? Did we evolve it? Obviously not. After all, evolution is about the preservation and, well, evolution of a species. This involves weeding out whatever does not contribute to the growth of a species. So why would we evolve a conscience that tells us to help the homeless person on the street? Evolution would say that that is something that should be weeded out.

So we didn’t evolve morality. If someone has another idea how this annoying conscience got stuck in our minds, please tell me. But I think it makes more sense that Something put it there. So, let’s go out on a limb and try to determine more about this Something.

This Something’s obviously pretty powerful to put a conscience inside each human’s mind. We also don’t know much about him. Maybe he’s off on a different planet, or maybe he’s not even in time. Either way, he’s more powerful than us, so that’s a start.

And this Something has put morality in our minds for a reason. Well, if he were able to put morality in our minds, he must be pretty dang smart. He most likely has a pretty good reason for telling us to be nice to people when we don’t feel like it. Maybe he’s just sadistic and put it there for no reason, but if he did and he’s so smart and powerful, I don’t see much hope for anything we do, so let’s assume he’s not sadistic.

So: Something nice and smart and powerful put morality in us. Hmm, this may be a stretch, but I think it’s in our best interest to be moral. Maybe we’ll even accomplish something that this enormously powerful Something deems to be of great worth. Then, we’ll have accomplished something bigger than we could have by just trying to live for this world.

That’s why I don’t believe we’ve got Oblivion waiting for us. I believe we’ve got a nice surprise waiting for us on the other side.

In the book, Peter van Houten (John Green’s symbolic wise man), critiques Shakespeare when he said, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, / But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”

So Shakespeare thought that we made our own problems. All right, we sometimes do. Certainly in the case of Brutus and Cassius, they made their own problems. But then van Houten goes on to say that the fault is indeed in our stars. We’re not to blame for the crap that happens to us. Well, certainly in the case of the cancer victims, that’s the case. (Aside from people who smoke all the time and get lung cancer or eat all the time and never exercise and overwork their hearts. But in the case of the cancer victims in the story, the fault was in their stars.)

Who’s right? NIETHER OF THEM!

Just because there’s a situation in which we messed up and got in a bad situation because of it, doesn’t mean that all our problems originate within ourselves. And just because in some instances bad stuff that we couldn’t control happens to us doesn’t mean that we’re not responsible for any of the crap that occurs to us.

Now, having said that, I’m going to say that my leanings are toward Shakespeare. Hear me out. Some of the stuff that happens to us we can’t control. That’s obvious. But, we are completely in control of how we react to the stuff that happens to us. We can choose to be happy despite bad circumstances, and we can choose to be hopeful despite the feeling that oblivion is all that’s waiting for us.

You may also say that I might be taking a stretch by saying that Shakespeare and Green were saying that the Fault will ALWAYS be in our stars or not. Maybe with Shakespeare I am. But I’m not going to get the context of that line, because I want to give John the benefit of the doubt, because he’s a pretty cool guy.

And John Green is definitely saying that the universal that the fault is in our stars and not ourselves. I got the context there. Oh well, John can blame everything on a bad childhood if he wants, but I’m not going to. Get over the crap that happened to you, no matter how bad it seems. There’ve been people who’ve gone through worse and let it go. Don’t slop around because the slop around you isn’t your fault. Clean up the slop even if it isn’t your mess. (Which leads me to say how immature it was of Hazel that when Gus started puking in the car when he went to buy some more cigarettes, that she didn’t clean up that. No, instead she called someone else to do it for her. Yes, call 911 of course, but also clean up your boyfriend’s vomit. But I’ll save this rant for my last critique of TFiOS)

Don’t kill me or anything, but I read the Fault in Our Stars and didn’t like it.

The story was good, the writing was all right I suppose, but my main problem was the philosophy behind John Green’s bestselling work which is about to be made into a movie and which has so many fangirls even though everything in there is plausible.

Yes, I’m a nerd. I didn’t like a book because of its philosophical leanings.

Without even trying very hard, I came up with five fallacies (not really fallacies, but I liked the alliteration there, so I’m calling them fallacies) in TFiOS.

1-     The Fault isn’t Just in Our Stars

2-     Defeatism is not Realism

3-     Pain can bring out joy in some people, but not all people

4-     Forever is a correct concept

5-     Grow up already or whatever

That last one is just me being incredibly annoyed with Hazel.

So if you’re one of those people who can’t stand to hear anything bad at all about a book they like, then don’t come up here for the next week or so. But I felt obligated to express my disapproval with the book and to explain why.

If you’re one of those people who actually appreciate hearing opposing viewpoints (or if you’ve never read the book and don’t mind spoilers or some other scenario), then come on back. I’ll have too much fun putting down John Green’s ideology. 

NOTE: This may sound a bit more official than usual, because I am presenting it in front of people who don’t understand fandom-lingo.

Probably my favorite character in a Tale of Two Cities is Sydney Carton, because he is a character of such depth. Although on the outside he’s a real jerk, when you get understand him, he opens up and becomes such a caring and devoted person who’s been through so much and is willing to sacrifice what little he has for those he loves.

C. S. Lewis made an interesting analogy in Mere Christianity, which I do believe applies here. Lewis said that often, some non-Christians are closer to God than Christians, because the non-Christian’s life journey was full of more harshness than that of the Christian. The non-Christian has lived life honestly with himself as best he can, while the Christian simply breezed along, joining the Church because his parents were Christians.

Similarly, Sydney Carton looked back on his life with contempt and disappointment, seeing no good in it. So, he deemed it worthy to sacrifice his own life for the life of the husband of the woman he loves. He loved Lucie so much, that he’d be willing to die so that the man she loves can live. If he truly were as self-centered as he acted, he’d simply let Charles die and try to woo Lucie later, but he didn’t do that, because of his deep-inlaid moral character.

A character from another story which is almost identical to Sydney Carton is Severus Snape, from Harry Potter. Just as Sydney Carton lived an outward life which repelled the reader, so Severus Snape initially repels the reader. However, as the stories progress, both characters reveal deeper layers to themselves, until their goodness finally shines through. Both characters loved a woman who married a different man. Neither man attempted to infringe upon the other woman’s honor. Both men ended up dying for the women they loved.

These men stand as an example that even if life is harsh, one can still hold to one’s morals and sacrifice anything and everything for those that one loves. To be fair, I’d say that Snape probably had to endure more harshness from life than Sydney Carton did. Also, neither had to be so repulsive in their manner. But in the end it was shown where their hearts and souls truly lay, and that was in the highest branch of morality – giving up one’s life for a friend.

Fair warning, this is going to get emotional for me, but you probably won’t tell because you’re just reading it and my tears won’t get typed in. Usually, I’ll set a 500 word limit to most of my posts, but I’m not going to do so on this one.

Ever since I was little, I’ve loved imaginary, fantastical, and impossible stories. It started out with Winnie the Pooh. My Kindergarten teacher got me this huge book of the all the original A. A. Milne Winnie the Pooh stories and poems, and I loved that thing.

Then, of course, I moved on to Narnia, the Hobbit, and before I could properly rate stories – LOTR, a pure masterpiece which threw me away. Of course, back then I didn’t get half of how good it was and simply LOVED Gollum and Aragorn.

I don’t think stories ever caused me to lose my sanity and actually believe they were true. And how could they? They were about talking stuffed animals, talking real animals, talking trees… there are a bunch of things in stories I like that talk that shouldn’t talk…

But some people I have spoken to say that children should not read certain fairy stories because it blurs the lines of reality and can steer them in the wrong direction. I considered this argument pure hoopla.

Because I loved stories so much, I began telling the stories of the Ring to my little cousin. He saw me wearing the Ring and asked me about it, so I told him all about how Bilbo found it in Gollum’s cave. My little cousin listened to the whole thing with great interest.

The next time I saw him, he said he wanted to hear another story about the Ring. So I told him about how it was made by Sauron and needed to be destroyed, so Frodo took it to Mount Doom and destroyed it.

This confused him. He looked at it and said, “But you have it.”

“Well, this isn’t the real one,” I responded.

“Oh.” He still looked confused. This little cousin of mine is pretty smart, and I could tell he was working something in his mind. Finally, he looked up at me and asked, “Is it true?”

I had nothing to say to him. I knew exactly what he meant. I had told him things that could never exist, and he had taken my word for it. Just like a child takes his parents’ word that Santa exists. Finally, I had to say, “No.” It was a very depressing moment for me.

Later, I thought over it and considered that the proper response would have been, “Yes. It exists – in your mind.” There’s a great John Green quote along that line, but I came up with that thought of my own accord, and I don’t feel like looking up that quote.

So now, here I was, with my great answer about the truth of fairy stories – that their truth is in the realm of thoughts, not in the realm of matter. And so here I am, reading S. Morgenstern’s classic tale of true love and high adventure.

I get to the part where the editor, Goldman, explains that he had made his own reunion scene between Buttercup and Westley because Morgenstern had not, and that you could find the reunion scene online. So, like any curious reader, I went online and looked it up.

And that’s how I found out Goldman fabricated the entire thing.

I didn’t know what to do at that moment. I had been reading Princess Bride, thinking what an awesome quest it must have been for Goldman to find this rare piece of literature and revive it in a new edition with all the boring parts taken out. I appreciated the humorous way in which he abridged the story, something not many abridgers do.

And then I find out S. Morgenstern never existed.

My whole feeling of reality simply shattered in that moment of realization. What was I to do? Such awesomeness didn’t actually exist.

All I could do was take comfort in what I later made sure to tell my little cousin: “Those stories are true. They exist in your mind, and they can make you just as happy if your imagination lets you.”

So, now that I’ve explained some of the sheer amazingness of Princess Bride, I don’t want it to be completely off the hook, so I’ll talk about the two mistakes.

As I said in the intro, the first mistake was that Buttercup left Westley in the Fire Swamps.

You may jump in her defense – they would have killed Westley (the movie stressed that a ton more than the book), she would have died anyway, etc. Your argument is invalid. She had already experienced life without Westley, and it was worthless. Having experienced true love, how could she go back to life without love?

Either she had never loved Westley to the extent that the book said she did love him, or she would have died right then and there with him before giving in to her Humperdinck’s demands. Maybe not all of us would have. But by the way Goldman had developed Buttercup’s character, it seems the only course of action she could have taken without renouncing her love to Westley. That’s how I saw it at least.

This next mistake may be a bit unpopular, but I don’t really care.

I read a version with Buttercup’s Baby attached at the end. I don’t know if every version is like that or not, but I’ll assume you don’t know what I’m talking about. After the grand escape and all that, they escape to an island and Westley and Buttercup have a baby.

That’s nice and everything, but we lack the assurance of commitment to this relationship. No one can doubt that Westley and Buttercup will remain faithful to each other so long as they both live, so why not marry them? There’s no reason not to, except if you want to leave the option open that maybe they will separate, which sort of dampens and spoils the whole story.

Anyway, this one will be short, because the problems were few. However, they were clear enough for me to comment on them. Again, let me just reiterate that these are the ONLY true mistakes I’ve seen in Princess Bride. Usually there will be tons more. Princess Bride is currently contesting second place with Ice and Fire in my favorite books list, because the scale of Ice and Fire makes up for the mistakes in it. Same thing with LOTR, which is obviously number one.

Not only does Goldman present a tale of epic proportions in a smallish way (if that makes sense to you), but he also does it humorously while addressing the reader personally as the author/narrator (I’m not sure which title is more appropriate).

Now, most fairy stories will have an element of humor in them. Some will even have the narrator speaking directly to the reader (Narnia, for instance). But whenever Goldman narrates, it’s Monty Python-class humor. And even when he’s not, he somehow makes the characters so ridiculous while simultaneously keeping them larger than life. I don’t know how he does it.

I absolutely love how during the whole thing, Goldman is making fun of the “great authors,” and “intelligentsia professors,” who insist that the most boring parts of books actually matter. That’s because Goldman understands story. People don’t read stories to think, “Oh, what great use of blappity bloop.” Some people do, but they’re boring. People read stories for thrill, excitement, and an escape from monotonous life.

Aside from laughing at so-called “literature experts,” Goldman presents random humor. Randomness done well is hilarious, but it usually implies a cynical nature.

The tale is about true love, but when Buttercup believes her true love to be dead, she wallows in grief for a little and shrugs affirmatively when Humperdinck asks for her hand, but not her love. It was presented humorously, but a bit cynically.

The tale is about high adventure, but when Buttercup is about to be eaten by sharks, the narrator pulls you away, assuring you that the whole book is about the Princess Bride, so she’s obviously not going to die. Humorous, but cynical.

Sometimes this kind of humor gets out of hand. Sometimes, this type of humor will say, “Oh, nothing really matters or means anything, so let’s laugh off life.” Princess Bride doesn’t go that far, which I greatly appreciate.

The ending has meaning. The ending doesn’t assure you of a happily ever after, but the story isn’t going that far. In fact, it does something better. Instead of happily ever after, the ending says that these larger than life characters will continue adventuring. Personally, I like that kind of ending better.

Although I love Hitchhiker’s Guide, I must say that it really does practically explicitly endorse meaninglessness - don’t go looking for a happy ending, you won’t get one, and even if you do, it doesn’t matter. That’s because it uses cynical humor too much. Princess Bride uses cynical humor, but not to that extreme.

Yes, there’s bad in the world, but it doesn’t follow that since there’s bad, there is no meaning. As the Doctor said, “Life’s a pile of good things and bad things.” Don’t make the mistake of robbing badness and goodness of meaning.

ENDNOTE: Goldman states that life’s not fair in the book. But that isn’t cynical. That’s facing facts. It’s a good thing life’s not fair too, because we’ve all done horrible stuff.

When man first gathered about the fire and exchanged stories, did he talk about such miniscule affairs as to what tiny things he did during his day? NO! He talked up the awesomest thing he’s done or the wildest dream he’s had or the grandest tale he’s heard. People want to hear about greatness, and there’s simply no way around it.

Generally, fairy stories make simple people the possessors of highest greatness. And so it is with Princess Bride. Buttercup goes from being a simple farm girl to the most beautiful woman in the world. Westly goes from being a slave to the most heroic man ever. Inigo and Ferrick both go from humble backgrounds to just plain awesomeness – the best fencer and the best muscle, but not particularly the best minds, which makes them more likable. Truly, this is a tale of true love and high adventure.

Imagine stories in general. You have characters. These characters have mixtures of good and bad, weakness and strength. Now, imagine that their moment of greatest triumph was in their vice. Imagine their moment of greatest triumph was in their weakness. Wouldn’t work, would it? Or it would make the story suck.

That’s why we want our characters to excel – to push beyond boundaries, so we may dream of greatness that we might actually achieve ourselves.  WARNING: DIGRESSION: I highly doubt I’ll ever be as awesome as Westley in the things he is awesome in. But perhaps, I could be as awesome as him in other things. Stories are about showing awesomeness, and that awesomeness has to be expressed in a certain way. That doesn’t make it bad if we express our own awesomeness in a different way. Just strive to be awesome and do your best to attain it.

I also want to talk about the villains. It would be pointless if there were heroes of enormous awesomeness that had no way of proving their awesomeness. So we have to have villains of equally epic-scale badness.

Humperdinck is THE hunter, and he successfully hunts and captures Westley, who is then successfully tortured by the torturous Count – the evil, six-fingered man adept at politics who hasn’t had to deal with someone who’s going to confront him in a fair, man to man duel. Until Inigo. WARNING: DIGRESSION: Also, the Count is separated from normal people by having six fingers. Does this justify his badness because of his deformity? Obviously not, but we often mistake deformity with evil.

But does that stop the awesomeness of Westley, Fezzik, Inigo, and Buttercup? No. Not because they’re good and therefore must win, but because they excel and therefore win, as everyone strives to.

This is what story is about. Characters who achieve the impossible, for moral reasons. Sometimes they’ll stray from the moral path. Sometimes they’ll stray from even accomplishing the mission. But deep down, that’s what we all know a story SHOULD be. And that’s what Goldman made. The epitome of simplistic story.

Excellent Fairy Story. Top notch. Besides two things: 

1-     Buttercup left Westley when they were surrounded at the Fire Swamps

And

2-     The Princess Bride never actually got married to her lover.

Anyway, besides those two points, I think this was probably one of the greatest things I’ve ever read. Right now I’m trying to debate whether this or the Song of Ice and Fire should go in my number 2 slot for best books I’ve ever read. LOTR is first, of course.

So, to introduce this fairy story, I don’t really know where to begin. The characters are larger than life: everything and everyone is the grandest. The heroes are truly heroic on an epic scale; the villains are devious and ruthless. But the style is humorous while at the same time friendly. It’s like somebody combined LOTR with Hitchhiker’s Guide with Narnia with Beowulf (and maybe even a bit of Monty Python and the Holy Grail thrown in... and a tiny bit of Harry Potter) and made something truly unique, inspiring, and simply awesome in every conceivable way.

I put up my two faults with the story, but I must stress that those are the only faults I have. I have many faults with Game of Thrones, and yes, more than two with LOTR. (There are four semi-faults, and all but one has to do with rushing things or not fully explaining certain parts. I might put those up) So, I must say that despite the two faults (which I will speak more on), this is one of the best works of literature that humanity has produced.

And it’s not British!

I’m not an Anglophile or an Anglophobe; I simply find it surprising that an American has made one of the best (in my opinion) fairy stories in history. Usually it’s the British who take it upon themselves to do that. (LOTR, Harry Potter, Beowulf, Narnia, King Arthur, Robin Hood, Doctor Who, etc. Star Wars and Game of Thrones are the great exceptions)

So, I highly recommend Princess Bride, and you should definitely hear what I have to say concerning A: The larger than life characters, feelings, events, feats, etc.; B: The humorous tone within the fairy story; C: the two mistakes; and D: how much of a troll Goldman is.

If you haven't seen it yet, here you go:

First off, holy crap! If nothing else, this movie’s going to LOOK amazing. Not as good as say, Into Darkness or something like that, but it sure will be up there.

Also, I do have a bone to pick with whoever made this trailer. Well, maybe I do. See, they made the movie look like it’s going to be as action-packed as Into Darkness. (Sorry that I keep comparing this trailer to Into Darkness, but… I remember that one the best, and this one is reminiscent of Into Darkness) But the story is far from action-packed. In my opinion at least.

It was about a boy who was put to his limits and trained. The most action that took place were the mock-battles (these “games” were taken very seriously) in Battle School. I saw two half-second clips of that. Most of the action sequences were taken from the previous Bugger Wars or the simulations.

Not that I mind that. Just let me explain how the simulations may be taken.

See, they made it seem like he actually thought he was going into battle when the simulation sequences were going. Which he was. Whether he thought he was or not is an entirely different matter. Sometimes he was all in it and sometimes he was half dead.

So now, people who haven’t read the book are going to expect an action movie with space battles against aliens. And (unless they destroy the book) the audience won’t get that for the first hour and a half. Instead, they’ll get sheer character development about little kids and the adults who have to make them suffer.

This could be good or bad. It’s bad because people will watch it expecting one thing and getting another. Or, it could be good, because the whole time, people will be expecting action and war and space battles. They’ll never get them (because, if the movie is any good, it’ll stick to the twist) until they realize that the simulations were the battles all along.

Another thing… the trailer said, “It’s not a game,” or something along those lines. They just gave the twist away. Then again, with a title like Ender’s Game, that could just be taken as some type of general cliché which the trailer used. Or that was just there for fans of the book. I don’t know what they were doing there. Wasn’t necessarily bad I suppose…

And they showed the climax. Again, not necessarily bad. And people won’t expect it to be the climax because it was in the trailer and it’s just a simulation… but still.

I guess this trailer is simply trying to put all the action sequences together like most trailers do. That’s the most likely answer, but I like to speculate and pretend that people are smart.

Despite my seeming criticism of the trailer, I thoroughly enjoyed it and anticipate the movie.