“Sure, we’d faced some things as children that a lot of kids don’t. We still hadn’t learned, though, that growing up is all about getting hurt. And then getting over it. You hurt. You recover. You move on. Odds are pretty good you’re just going to get hurt again. But each time, you learn something.
Each time, you come out of it a little stronger, and at some point you realize that there are more flavors of pain than coffee. There’s the little empty pain of leaving something behind – graduating, taking the next step forward, walking out of something familiar and safe into the unknown. There’s the big, whirling pain of life upending all of your plans and expectations. There’s the sharp little pains of failure, and the more obscure aches of successes that didn’t give you what you thought they would. There are the vicious, stabbing pains of hopes being torn up. The sweet little pains of finding others, giving them your love, and taking joy in their life they grow and learn. There’s the steady pain of empathy that you shrug off so you can stand beside a wounded friend and help them bear their burdens.
And if you’re very, very lucky, there are a very few blazing hot little pains you feel when you realized that you are standing in a moment of utter perfection, an instant of triumph, or happiness, or mirth which at the same time cannot possibly last – and yet will remain with you for life.
Everyone is down on pain, because they forget something important about it: Pain is for the living. Only the dead don’t feel it.
Pain is a part of life. Sometimes it’s a big part, and sometimes it isn’t, but either way, it’s a part of the big puzzle, the deep music, the great game. Pain does two things: It teaches you, tells you that you’re alive. Then it passes away and leaves you changed. It leaves you wiser, sometimes. Sometimes it leaves you stronger. Either way, pain leaves its mark, and everything important that will ever happen to you in life is going to involve it in one degree or another.”
For this installment in “Red Pill Authors”, I’m going to take a look at a fantasy writer, Jim Butcher. His best known series is the “Dresden Files”. These books tell the story of a young wizard who sets up a detective agency to help people with supernatural difficulties, something that normal PDs or the police can’t help with.
“When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching — they are your family. ”
The Dresden Files are like noir detective novels set in modern times. I’m usually pretty good at figuring out “whodunit” but Butcher gets me more than I get him. The books are action-packed and you will want to blast through them in a frantic race to see how it all ends up, but if you slow down and soak in the message, what you will find is some red-pill truths scattered through the pages like hidden diamonds.
“For the sake of one soul. For one loved one. For one life.”
I called power into my blasting rod, and its tip glowed incandescent white.
“The way I see it, there’s nothing else worth fighting a war for”
Boobs are near the center of the universe, until you turn twenty-five or so. Which is also when young men’s auto insurance rates go down. This is not a coincidence.
“But the only way never to do the wrong thing is never to do anything.”
An interesting thing in his books is that most of the recurring villains are female. He is stark in his portrayal of them as manipulative, not afraid to use their beauty to ensnare people or distract them while they get ready to spring their trap. Sound familiar?
Left unchecked, the female spirit breeds chaos. There is a reason we call it “Mother Nature”. Let a well-manicured lawn go untended for ONE summer and it returns to a wild, chaotic mess. The female is designed for nurturing without regard for the end result. Femininity will take in a stray even if it costs them dearly. The feminine needs the masculine to tend it.
The stark portrayal of women, along with some supposedly “racist” stuff, caused Jim Butcher some heat several years ago. He was labeled misogynistic and racist. Some took offense at his “whitewashing” of crime problems in a Chicago neighborhood. This led to the following exchange on Twitter:
Butcher was also passed over multiple times for a Hugo Award, which are awards given to outstanding authors in the fantasy genre. Despite his books being perennial best sellers, he wasn’t “aristic” enough or maybe he didn’t have the right pronouns in his books or something. This led to Sad Puppies, a group of authors concerned with the direction the awards were going, to publicly call for transparency in how the awards were determined. Of course, they were shouted at by the SJW crowd as being “old white men who were threatened by women and people of color”, even though the only white man in the group was himself married to a woman of color.
I already liked Butcher’s stuff before. This only solidified my support for him. Check him out. I think you’ll enjoy him.