Death is Eternal #385

Sunday. January 28, 2024. 1,723 words.

I desired to write this Death is Eternal yesterday (Jan. 27, 2024), but out of the blue, there was a Real Madrid game on the television (it was supposed to be today instead of tomorrow), and since live games are only fun live while writing can always wait, I decided to change my plans. So that’s why the subtitle read “Sunday” instead of “Saturday.” The good news is, Real Madrid won! And the second best news is that despite changing plans, Death is Eternal is here to improve your Monday!

Contents

1. Robert Guiscard (1072)

2. Writing: On vacation

3. Bye!

4. Life (from January 22, 2024 to February 4, 2024)

5. Death is Eternal review #263: Superpowered: The DC Story

6. The end

1. Robert Guiscard (1072)

Robert Guiscard traced the contours of his garments with desperate fingers, each wrinkle and stain a testament to the relentless onslaught of battle. His linen shirt, once a canvas for imported dyes that whispered tales of conquest, now clung to him like a shadow, its elegance drowned in the muddy aftermath of triumph.

The victory, palpable and unassailable, had cast its dark veil over Palermo, presaging the inevitable fall of Sicily. Guiscard, a phantom of destiny, had risen beyond the expectations of those who dismissed him as the sixth son of Tancred of Hauteville. Yet, the weight of accomplishment failed to lift the sombre expression etched on his face.

Amidst the ghastly tableau of the battlefield, where the moans of the dying mingled with the stench of blood and excrement, Guiscard moved with a singular purpose. He sidestepped fallen comrades and enemies alike, his attention consumed not by the carnage but by the once-luxurious fabric that clung to his frame.

Vanity, an insidious companion born of conquests and ambition, now tormented him. The dyes, meticulously chosen and imported, had succumbed to the chaos of war. The shirt, a symbol of defiance against the destiny that awaited him in Normandy, lay transformed into a garment of despair.

His fingers, stained and trembling, sought to undo the irreversible. In the battlefield’s aftermath, where time seemed to both stand still and rush forward, he attempted the impossible – to unravel the threads of time and separate the hues that had merged in the crucible of conflict. Yet, the elegant clothing, once a declaration of defiance, now stood as a silent witness to Guiscard’s perpetual failure.

Amidst the ruins of Palermo, as Sicily teetered on the precipice of change, Guiscard’s reflection in the murky sheen of his attire whispered the irony of his fate—“Black Shirt Robert,” a title etched not in the annals of conquest but in the indelible ink of futile resistance.

In the end, the battlefield told a tale more profound than any uttered by his elegant clothing; it spoke of the inexorable march of time, the ephemeral nature of triumph, and the haunting legacy of a man whose ambitions, like the once-vibrant dyes, faded into the abyss of history.

The end

2. Writing: On vacation

Credit: Substack (a lobster using a typewriter in the ocean)

Ah, remember when I mentioned my plans to write during my vacation? And more importantly, do you recall me expressing the hope that my mindset would effortlessly transition from “you have to do something” to “do whatever you want”? Well, it was a close call.

Not in the sense that I felt compelled to write, but instead because I found myself writing willingly, and yes, I did manage to pen down some thoughts while in Brazil! Surprisingly, it wasn’t due to self-imposed pressure. However, I must confess it wasn’t an immediate occurrence. It wasn’t like a switch flipped, and suddenly, I thought, “I’m on vacation, I’m feeling rested, I want to write.” Quite the contrary, in fact. It took me nearly four weeks to reach a mental state where I felt rested enough to be inspired to sit down and translate my thoughts into words. This process led me to ponder the significance of being mentally well to derive pleasure from writing and how challenging it is to feel rejuvenated enough for writing to be a delight rather than an obligation.

Writing, at its core, is a mental exercise. Not in the sense that you utilize your brain instead of your body, but in the sense that you engage your mind—both your conscious and unconscious thoughts. All mental cylinders must be firing for words to come alive on paper. Yet, while you can coerce them into action, you can’t make them work harmoniously if your mind isn’t in the right place.

But why is that the case? To find enjoyment in using your brain, you must sufficiently rest not to view it as work or a task. In today’s world, where the mantra seems to be “live to work,” achieving this seems nearly impossible. Work is incessantly on your mind—bills to pay, things to consume, places to go—and the mere contemplation of money invariably leads to thoughts of work. In the digital era, work even infiltrates our pockets—be it a Slack message, an email notification, or a project idea that beckons you to jot it down. Work never truly leaves us, preventing us from fully relaxing and switching off our brains. Yet, demanding our minds to work for pleasure becomes a paradox when we deny them the respite they need.

I’m undoubtedly not the pioneer in making this connection. However, what hadn’t occurred to me before was realizing just how fatigued my mind was. It took almost four weeks of deliberately avoiding thoughts about work (I even went so far as to delete the Slack app from my cellphone to escape its clutches) to give my brain the rest it needed. It was only then that I reached a state where I felt comfortable using it purely for the joy of writing. Isn’t it disheartening? What’s even more troubling is that once I started writing, I couldn’t bring myself to stop because the sheer delight of the process had eluded me for far too long.

Writing on vacation is not only possible but immensely pleasurable, provided you have ample time to rest your brain genuinely. Sadly, living in a part of the world where extended vacations make people give you the stinky eye of disapproval makes attaining this mental reprieve a considerable challenge.

PS: That was what I planned to write about last week...

3. Bye!

Because of the reasons that I’ll detail in the “Life” section of this Death is Eternal, I decided to lower the price of the paid subscription. The monthly subscription went from CAD 10.00 to 5.00, the yearly subscription was 100.00, and now it’s only 50.00, and the biggest discount is for the “Founding Members.” Before, you would’ve paid 200.00 yearly; now, it’s merely 60.00. So, if you were considering updating your subscription, now is the perfect time to do it!

Here’s where we say our farewell to the free subscribers. If you want to read the rest of Death is Eternal, consider becoming a paying subscriber. If you already are a paying subscriber, first of all, thank you very, very much! And second, I’ll see you on the other side of the paywall.