Saturday 14 November 1998

Yess! A phone call from Germany. She's got a new phone number after she moved, of course. She's been very occupied (obviously) with moving in, so hadn't thought of giving me her address or anything. I was a tad worried there. ("She", of course, is my best friend, the Supergirl, mallrat extraordinaire, cutter of corpses, torturer of languages, the Nynaeve Reborn.)
I've finally added a new approximate truth, this time about the Flynn effect, the amazing increase in human intelligence during most of our century (and seemingly still going on). You can find the link to both of my articles so far on my home page. I hope someone finds this interesting, and I hope it is written so easy that even the grown-ups can understand it. ;)
As I've told already, I feel the ground somewhat warming under my feet. If I am to share anything while I still live, I have to cast it as wide as possible, hoping that something may lodge in another brain before my time is out. I doubt my Internet Service Provider will let this monument over my tiny little personality stand as a cybermausoleum after my passing on - like everything in this new world, it is both fleeting and permanent, but the latter only in archieves rarely or perhaps never again visited by humans.
One central concept in my science fiction / fantasy writing (another unborn aspect of my ageing mind) is the idea of the Soul-carrier. The soul-carrier is a human (or other intelligent being) who has the duty and function of copying a reasonable part of someone else's soul into his own, where it will continue to live on after the original body is gone. Certainly this happens naturally to most of us. Indeed, most of what we are can be said to come from others who have taught us. Our language, our culture, probably much of our morality and general outlook. And in turn we give something back into the fabric of society: By our example, and by our teaching for those who have children or pupils.
Still, I miss something like the Book of the Soul which existed in one of my stories: A recording device that was sort of like an expanded diary, securing away part of a creature's soul during his life. After his death, the Soulbook was absorbed by one of his friends, or another designated Soulcarrier, and so part of him still lived on.
In this tradition, I tend to read other people's .net-diaries with all the intelligence and empathy I can muster. The custom has not had a breakthrough yet, but perhaps it still will. And if so, I wish I could stay alive and be a part of it.
This page made without chemical additives, but with continuous playing of Richi M: "One Life To Live".