Apparently, Sunday is accident day. Last week, I, my person, almost collided with a car if it weren't for my reflexes and calm thinking (I almost got into an accident a decade ago and I panicked then... it's good to know I've learned from that experience). Today, going home from church, our car was hit by a truck from behind.

Of course I was sitting at the backseat of the car, at the left side, just where the truck happened to bump us. It's a good thing that the truck wasn't traveling at high speeds or else I would have been dead. I mean I was sitting in the car, leaning my shoulder against the door when I suddenly felt a rumble and some shaking. It couldn't be a speed bump since it happened too long. Before I knew it, a truck was beside me, nearly squishing the door. The driver didn't really notice it. He felt something and asked me what was wrong. I said that we were hit by the truck.

People are now fussing over me: the maids, my mother, my brother. They keep offering me water as if I was in shock. I wasn't. Heck, after the accident, I walked home since I didn't want to waste time with the police report. After all, it wasn't me driving the car. Of course three hours later, mother comes in asking me if I wanted water and if I'm okay. There I was, sitting at the sofa, reading Stephen R. Donaldson's Illearth War. What does it look like?

Thank God that our cable is working again. It was probably down for twenty four hours so I wasn't able to watch TV since yesterday. People are anticipating today's match between DLSU and Ateneo. Who will win? *shrug* My only consolation is that if Ateneo wins, our Philo quiz will be about a subject matter we've already discussed.

And just to clarify, I'm really not anti-Tolkien. Anti C.S. Lewis maybe, but not anti-Tolkien. Garrick, let's face it, Tolkien's work is several years old. I'm not complaining about the world or the plot as it's evidently good. I'm complaining about the writing and how it didn't really appealed to me. Read it and found it so-so. Writing evolves over time. You don't see us reading Old English work without some agony. I mean sure, Tolkien's Lord of the Rings might end up as a classic but even classics aren't as enjoyable to some people. I mean in the horror genre, we can talk about Bram Stoker and Mary Shelley (haven't read the novels so I can't really comment on the work) but horror readers enjoy the likes of R.L. Stine and Stephen King. Similarly, for all of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's stories about Sherlock Holmes (which I've read and enjoy, FYI), mystery fans love Agatha Christie. That's not to say Doyle's work is less significant but there is an evolution that makes new, imaginative ideas more appealing (and factually accurate as Doyle makes an error in one of his works, like Holmes deducing from a hat that the owner is smart because the circumference is big and a big head must contain a big brain... intelligence is measured from the folds of the brain as well as the size).

Then again, since everyone is different, this is just my opinion and my take on it. You're probably a product of Tolkien's time and so really enjoy it. I guess I was just raised in a period where I only got to read Tolkien in my teens (dammit, the Xavier school library only has a copy of Fellowship of the Ring and the last few pages have been torn) and find other styles more appealing. I won't be surprised if ten or twenty years from now, my favorite writers will be considered obsolete by the next generation of fantasy readers.

I guess the irony here is that a creative concept eventually stops being creative after a certain amount of time because it's potential is already exploited. Which is why if someone does another Blair Witch, it probably won't be as successful as the original unless there's an innovative or enticing characteristic.