Bear With Me -- Dan Varnish

Let me tell you about something. Growing up, I know everyone remembers picking up their first book, opening it, and slicing through it like a hot knife through butter (the thing I will say is that I am not particularly good with analogies, but bear with me). Perhaps that wasn't you, maybe that was just me. You see when I was born, I lost my capability to breathe and I was flown to the hospital. I wish I could've remembered what the view looked like. To this day, I imagine the view I would gaze down upon- seas of green, sparkling trees and the oddly satisfying look of the clouds when you're right next to them in midair. But that is neither here nor there, and I do not want to lull anyone with my mindless thoughts about that time, so I think I'm just going to move on. The one thing about literature is that it has the capability to grab you by the hand and transport you into another location, another dimension, another world. As a kid, I split my way through numerous amounts of books, spending all of my free time dreaming of what life would be like in every book I read. As a kid though, I thought I was hallucinating, and I often thought I should tell my mom that I had symptoms of a heroin addict. I apologize if that is offensive, but I was a nine-year-old kid for Christ's sake. Like cut me some slack. I've often found that just scribbling whatever comes to mind is the best form of release from the rigor and structural duress of any English essay. So, bear with me if I jump from one scene to the next, but then again, what does literature do again? Oh yeah, that's right. One moment you're enjoying the broom ride with Harry Potter, then next thing you know you end up getting hit by one of those goddamn arrows that Katniss just happens to have in her back pocket. That's the funny thing; I think the two are oddly similar. My psyche and the psyche of literature parallel one another. At least from the books that I read, my mind is completely shifted after the course that the book took me through a forest, then to a desert, then to a mountain. That's another thing: literature to me is so much like all the subjects I've taken throughout my academic career. I connect all these random things back to what I'm reading, and I think it's because I was, and sort of still am, a nerd. Like back in grade school, I wasn't the one who got picked on, but I remember little Jimmy got mad because I scored higher on the Phonics test. Sorry Jimmy, didn't mean to sound harsh. Still an awesome guy I will say, but I still hold that higher score in Phonics, and it's never going to change. But anyway, I think you get the point. And another thing, why are people damaging our environment? Like I don't understand the point of building an expansion for a company in exchange for deforestation. Back when I went to school every day, I always drove past a plethora of trees piled on top another, and I just felt sick to my stomach. It made me think of some guy dressed in lumberjack clothes, reaping the benefit of all those trees. I don't think he realizes that those trees mean something, they sprout life to all of us. At times, I think people don't come to terms with the harsh reality that is climate change. This is such a heated topic, but my stance is in full favor. I'm sorry if you disagree, but buddy, this is a free country and we are all protected with unalienable rights that promote the individuality of character (I learned that from unbearably old, yet delightfully humorous Government teacher Roland Karthan; he's such a wonderful person, although I could not see myself teaching government and being German). Climate change is such a touchy subject, but that's why I'm bringing it up, and I want you to listen. I'm not going to blurt facts out at you like the most conventional scientist there is. I'm not a scientist, environmentalist, or anything else. I suppose you could call me an environmentalist, but solely because I feel blessed by all of the natural resources the Earth has blessed me with. I just feel the urge to protect my home at all costs. Like let me give you a situation, so close your eyes, or don’t if you don’t want to, I couldn’t care less: You're trapped inside your car. I don't know what kind of cars everyone drives, but let's say it's a nice Ford Fiesta or something. Anyway, you're sitting inside your car, in the thick of summer, and you somehow locked yourself in your car. To make matters worse, you cannot even turn on the AC because your Ford Fiesta hates you for picking such a lousy car. I mean seriously, a Ford Fiesta? I hope you remember that when you’re in the midst of a mid-life crisis and wonder why you had no friends. I’m just joking, but really, back to the example. So you’re left there, drenched in your own sweat, left to muster every ounce of strength in you just to make it another few moments until the Best Buy guy comes out and breaks through your window and frees you of your misery. That’s the problem with climate change, except in this case, the Fiesta is the Earth, you are still you, and there is no Best Buy guy to let you loose. Perhaps there is a Best Buy guy, but he’s most likely an intelligent guy who never goes out at night because he is too embarrassed to aptly show everyone how much smarter he is than them. Or it can be a girl. I’m certainly not a sexist. But you get the point. Our world is in dire need of reformation and a rise of new and capable youngsters who are filled to the brim with justice flowing out of their cup. In this instance, environmental justice. And yes, there is such a thing. Just ask Google. You’ll get an extremely convenient and lovely definition provided by none other than Wikipedia. Wikipedia is like an English teacher’s best friend. So whoever is reading this, go cite Wikipedia and see how many points it’ll raise your grade. If you have any problems, it’s my fault. I just want people to know that I can write sentences like an old-style Englishman and make them sound so sophisticated and intricate that your mind would be warped into a new dimension. Perhaps that is a hyperbole, but who’s counting? But for this instance, I went for a more colloquial tone, so my readers will enjoy their reading. That’s another thing about reading, the majority of people don’t like it because they can’t comprehend or understand the context of a sentence they just read. Now don’t get me wrong, that’s a difficult task to undertake. So I think if I were ever to become an author and make Mrs. Puckett or my mom or myself proud, I want to write something that people enjoy reading. So rather than putting something like, “I shall not argue against it from the supposed impossibility of the infinite, barely and absolutely considered in itself,” I would put something like, “George drove to the store and picked up some terribly beautiful gummy bears for him and Joseph to delightfully gorge.” That was the weirdest sentence I’ll ever write, but you get the point. Reading needs to be fun just as much as climate change needs to be, in no better terms, dumbed down so the majority of us can understand. But that’s for another day, another post, another thought. I think perhaps I should end this, because it’s getting close to too long for any millennial to bear with me. But did you catch what I did? I just helped you read a book. Well, not precisely. But the point is that I took you on one of the most unconventional rides at the Varnish Theme Park, and this one you don’t even need to wait in a line. I took you from place to place without a single introduction into the next topic. Literature does that sometimes, and I don’t really know why. I do know that’s why I’m so fascinated by it, and I continue to stay curious. That’s my task from now on, to make reading fun, and I won’t stop until I’ve accomplished this feat. I just want to take time to thank Maria Ferrato for the opportunity of writing on this blog and being able to pen my thoughts (however miscellaneous) onto this sketchbook of sorts. I’ve enjoyed it, and I hope you have to. Until next time, my friends. 


Dan Varnish