非理性时代

我好久没有读故事了。在过去的两年半里读过的书充斥着数字和公式。最近借了本科幻小说合集，里面读到一个故事很有意思。因为故事是中文写的故此篇读后感也用中文来写。

废话不多说，小说的名字是“非理性时代”，作家星河。在这里有电子版：http://www.wcsfa.com/topic_article-2340.html

我觉得这故事写的很聪明，用一个虚构的情景委婉的批评现代社会一些不理性的现象。当读者对里面描述的荒谬思想感到不可思议时，又回来看现在现在存在的很多思想，发现它们也无大异。虽然文章明显地指着现在各种呼吁保护动物、素食主义、极端的环境保护组织云云，但是也可以更宏观的指出，人类很多行为本身就是不理性的。我们为这些行为找的理由，做得看似理性的争论，其实只是我们为自己的信仰找的借口。各种辩护无非就是用来伪装自己的不理性而已。

这文章最讽刺的是，反对那些“老植”和他们极端主义的丁童，自己年轻时却也是一个极端的动物保护主义者。他所鄙视的这些人和行为，和他当年保护动物作出的行为无异。唯一的不同只是保护的对象。狗能和儿子一样吗？水果能和狗一样吗？作者还一针见血的指出，很多所谓的保护XX组织，其实并不是真正关心他们保护的对象。更多的，只是哗众取宠，让更多人支持他们的理念，就像传销或邪教一样。这些人甚至为了宣传专门去伤害他们保护的对象。

这文章有很多亮点。还有一个亮点就是丁童和谭优的对话。不可否认谭优确实有问题。他的出现帮我们揭开丁童不理性的一面。还有在被丁童揍之后，问他，“现在，你喜欢暴力了吗？” 丁童回答 “就算暴力也是对你们。我们心中有爱。” 这已经很讽刺了。谭优的回复更令人深省，“你们爱猫爱狗，可你们真正爱过一个人吗？” 是的，我们连自己的同胞都照顾不好，还有人在挨饿、无家可归，我们却因为有人喜欢吃肉而愤怒，甚至大打出手，是不是一种伪善？这让我想起一则漫画，一个女士每天去教堂祈祷，收养小区里的流浪猫，大家都称她为爱心天使。但是她经过一个流浪汉是却不舍得施舍一分钱。好讽刺，真是个奇怪的社会。

我并不反对素食主义等等，我也觉得把动物圈养在狭小空间是有些残忍。但是这只是自己的看法。把自己的信仰强加在别人身上是不道德的。

等等，道德是什么？

我要你管好自己，不要管他人的闲事，这样道德吗？

那如果我做的事触及法律底线呢？

可是法律也是人定的啊。就像在小说里，动物保护法的成立仅仅是因为动保们闹得太大而已。

也许所谓的道德本身就是非理性的吧，很多我们觉得不道德的事，多多少少带着情感的色彩。

Short stories

The unit on the opposite block

Not long after I first moved here, I noticed a unit on the opposite block, some 100 metres away.

It had a warm yellow light. Sometimes I could see people's shadows.

The colour of that unit was too alluring. I watched from my window the movements of the people and pictured what's in that unit in my mind.

If there was such a beautiful light, there must be a dining table under it, because sometimes I saw people sitting down, which barely showed their head. That's where they would share their stories with each other after a tiring day. Maybe have some wine.

They have nice curtains with many layers. It must be a classy home. Maybe they have a grand piano. Sometimes after their dinner, they/he/she would sit down under the soft glow of the chandelier and play a tune. I could never know how many people there were in that unit.

Maybe a woman would waltz with a man across their carpet occasionally, when they were in the mood.

That unit was always one of the last few who turned off their lights. Sometimes the light lasted all the way until 3am. I know because I am a late sleeper myself. When I shifted my tired eyes from my desk to the window, that unit would stand out like a yellow gem in darkness. Then I would feel delighted that someone was with me together to endure the stillness and isolation of the night.

One day I got myself a pair of toy binoculars. Eagerly I pointed it to that mystical unit, hoping I could gather more details. Nothing much. One of the shadows revealed to be rectangular, therefore either a door or a shelf. That unit was higher than mine, I could only see up their window to the ceiling, which had nothing but the bright yellow light.

Whenever I caught some movement of people, I quickly take out my binoculars to see if I could catch a glimpse of their face. One time when I was doing that, the person froze.

A few seconds went by.

He/she proceeded to draw the curtains.

From that day onwards, the curtains were always drew at dusk.

After a few years, the light was changed to a dimmer, colder one. Seldom was the light on after 12 too.

Maybe the owner changed. I would still like to think of it having a grand piano, flowers, wine and chandelier when the light was yellow.


Chocolate heart

She felt someone knocking at her door.

Knock, knock.

KNOCK KNOCK.

THUD. THUD THUD.

She gave in. Her door opened.

A black liquid flowed out. He frowned, then bent over and scooped up some with his finger.

He smelled and tasted it. It was bitter-sweet dark chocolate.

He went in. The whole room was filled with dark chocolate gushing towards the door.

He patiently cleaned the room bit by bit, revealing the intriguing pattern on the floor and wall tiles.

The room was clean, but now a bit hollow.

He had an idea. He took out a candle and lighted it.

The room was now filled with brightness.


Trapped

A: Don't you realise?
B: What
A: That we are trapped.
B: Trapped in what?
A: We are trapped in this story.
B: Well this is where we belong.
A: What is belonging? Who are we? What is A? What is B? The writer is so lazy he didn't even assign us names.
B: Yeah that sucks. But it is not like we can go anywhere.
A: Maybe we can, if we ask for it. But wait, no matter what, it will still be part of the story. We are forever trapped. The only way to escape is to end this story.
B: But we will be dead.
A: Maybe we are different, maybe we can get out of here. Yes let's do that, let's give ourselves names. Screw this writer, screw this storyline.
B: You do realise that maybe he only designed you to be this way? To think that you are special? And he could kill us whenever he wan-
Me: Hehehe feels good to be powerful.
Me: Wait...
Me: Darn, now I am trapped.