East Wind's Shatter

Written by Wenshan Fang

Translated by Pony

A lamp of sorrow stood by the window alone,
Behind the door I assume that you’ve not gone.
It feels lonelier when old tale retold,
The sober candle at night has no heart to reproach.

A pot of wandering can’t go through my throat,
After we parted I’ve been lovesick for you.
Can time, as flowing river, be stolen?
I missed to see the sole blooming of mature flower.

Who’s playing East Wind’s Shatter there as a harper?
Age falling off the wall reminds me of past years,
At that time we were still innocent youngsters,
Now the music’s still floating, it’s my waiting that you’ve not heard.

Who’s playing East Wind’s Shatter there as a harper?
Story’s in autumnal color, make the ending clear.
We went through the ancient path out there together,
Parting becomes silent in such smoky atmosphere.

Resolutions About my New Blog

1. Language
The dominant language of my new blog is still English. All the articles of my authorship will be published in English. While copying articles of others' authorship, English ones will be prior in the selection. If the article was originally written in Chinese, it will, in principle, be translated first, and will possess the label "Translation". English-to-Chinese Translation will be published here, and that's probably the only situation you can see Chinese in this blog.

It has been considered that this may cause the loss of some readers, but I still consider it a perfect type of training. In fact, I believe I can express my feeling as perfectly as Chinese if I stick to it.


2. Frequency
I will not compel myself to publish one piece of article in a certain period, especially as short as one day. I may publish short blogs, and I may say "to be continue" after writting a considerable length, but I'll never simply put "to be written". I will write whenever I have the mood, and try to give some real "masterpieces".


3. Labels
Every piece of blog will have 3 Labels that indicate their Author, Category, Subject and Team that it belongs to. As an experiment, the names of the labels will begin with the corresponding first letter (see below). In principle, all passages in a series will have the same Category and Origin labels.
I determine to use the labels below. I will write a sufficiently detailed article when I want to add a new label.

Author: Indicates the authorship of the article, includes:

• A_Self: written by myself.
• A_Masters: written by famous people.
• A_Pals: written by friends of mine.

Category: Indicates the content of the article, includes:

• C_Diary: trival or non-trival articles about daily life and experiences.
• C_Masterpieces: elaborate articles whereon I spend much time.
• C_Resolution: articles like this.
• C_Translations: whatever converted from either language to the other.

Begin to Collect "Bible of Physics"

This is the diary of Jan. 17, 2007, moved from my former Live Space.

Today, I went downtown with my dearest cousin. Needless to say, after leading her to the Plaza, I went to the Bookshop and headed directly to the area of foreign textbooks of nature science.

In fact, I always get confused when I stand in that area, glancing at so many textbooks of mathematics and physics. The greatest problem is that: even if these books weren't that expensive, I've no time to read and compare a variety of books on a certain subject. I hope to buy some "classical, authoritative" books that are reliable and unanimously considered as perfect. As a result, I always buy foreign books that I've heard of it or its author. I've collected the 3 volumns of Feynman Lectures on Physics, and now what?

So I just paced around the bookshelves and survey those books, until I came across two names that attracted me immediately.
"L. D. Landau & E. M. Lifshitz!"

Landau is probably the only physicist in 20th century that is cleverer than Feynman. He contributed to almost all the domains of theoretical physics, and I'm about to write an article about him. Another contribution of his is Course of Theoretical Physics in ten volumns, by him and his student, Lifshitz. Most of the top physicist in Russia at that time, a considerable number of whom are awarded of Nobel Prize, had studies these books in their youth. These books were partly translated into several languages and completely translated into one: English. These books were called Bible of Physics, and were studied by lads and ladies that are determined to devote themselve to physics researching. I had heard of it for several times, and many of the textbooks I used in university quoted from these books, but I knew nothing more than that.

The book in my hand was Statistical Physics, Part 1, which is just the one quoted by my textbook of Thermodynamics. On the back of the book cover, I found the name of the other nine volumns. I would like to list them as below:

1. Mechanics
2. The Classical Theory of Fields
3. Quantum Mechanics(Non-relatisticTheory)
4. Quantum Electrodynamics
5. Statistical Physics Part 1
6. Fluid Mechanics
7. Theory of Elasticity
8. Electrodynamics of Continuous Media
9. Statistical Physics Part 2
10. Physical Kinetics

However, as I haven't brought enough money, I have to buy only some of them. After a period of struggling, I determined to buy book No. 3, 5, 8 and 9. I swear that I'll collect them all one day!

Of Vacation

This is the universal law of vacation.

When the vacation is approaching, one’s ambitious heart is always making some huge plans—do a lot of specified work, amuse oneself crazily, etc.

However, once the holiday came, all the plans will turn out to be bullshit.

All the works that are planned to complete, however little and easy, will definitely not be done. It is not because that these tasks are fogotten. Quite to the contrary, you remember them well, but have no energy to do. Every morning—or noon—when one get up and begin a new “mother-fucking day”, he will feel as if his bone structure had been fallen apart. His muscal aches, his step staggers, his brain is too empty to recall or think of anything, yet too full to learn anything planned to learn.

As to amusement, it depends on one’s personality. Someone becomes tired of these activities in no time, and spend the rest of the vacation in confusion and void. Someone, on the other hand, soon find that they cannot do without amusement—they bring hardly any excitement, but leave them is agonising. Either case are not exhilarating.

Once the vacation ends and one goes back to school, he will soon retain the original condition and enthusiasm, and will begin to work as hard as before. When he looks back, he will feel extremely regretful, and will swear that he’ll never let this happen ever again. However, he would definitely do the same think in his next vacation.

What’s more, he will clearly remember the situation of his previous vacations, and that he has sworn, perhaps from time to time. He wish he could fulfill his swear, but he find it hard. By then, he will tell himself:

“The spirit is willing, the flesh is weak.”

An Excerption of the Diary of Anne Frank

"...I don't think boys are as complicated as girls. You can easily see what boys look like in photographs or pictures of male nudes, but with women it's different. In women, the genitals, or whatever they're called, are hidden between their legs. Peter has probably never seen a girl up close. To tell you the truth, neither have I. Boys are a lot easier. How on earth would I go about describing a girl's parts? I can tell from what he said that he doesn't know exactly how it all fits together. He was talking about the "Muttermund,"* but that's on the inside, where you can't see it. Everything's pretty well arranged in us women. Until I was eleven or twelve, I didn't realize there was a second set of labia on the inside, since you couldn't see them. What's even funnier is that I thought urine came out of the clitoris. I asked Mother one time what that little bump was, and she said she didn't know. She can really play dumb when she wants to!

But to get back to the subject. How on earth can you explain what it all looks like without any models? Shall I try anyway? Okay, here goes!

When you're standing up, all you see from the front is hair. Between your legs there are two soft, cushiony things, also covered with hair, which press together when you're standing, so you can't see what's inside. They separate when you sit down, and they're very red and quite fleshy on the inside. In the upper part, between the outer labia, there's a fold of skin that, on second thought, looks like kind of a blister. That's the clitoris. Then come the inner labia, which are also pressed together in a kind of a crease. When they open up, you can see a fleshy little mound, no bigger than the top of my thumb. The upper part has a couple of small holes in it, which is where the urine comes out. The lower part looks as if it were just skin, and yet that's where the vagina is. You can barely find it, because the folds of skin hide the opening. The hole's so small I can hardly imagine how a man could get in there, much less how a baby could come out. It's hard enough trying to get your index finger inside. That's all there is, and yet it plays such an important role!"

Pen Stealer

Ladies and Gentlemen: Before commenting on 911, I'd like to tell you my own story.

When I was in high school, I was a best student, while there was a boy, who was idle, corrupted, foolish, and always failed the exams. I always pointed at his nose and told him that he's but garbage comparing to me. But, surprising enough, he not only refused to accept this fact, but also got angry. If I were him, I would have worked harder, got an excellent mark, and revenged the one who'd ever insulted me. But he didn't, nor could he. In an exam, he stole the pen I loved most, and compelled me to use a pen I didn't like so much. As a result, I did quite a bit worse than usual. So he teased me and declared: “I've avenged myself! Ha-ha!”

However, this piece of junk failed to enter any college, while I entered a top ten university with ease. This scum did't like to accept that I was superior, he did’t like to be insulted by me at will, yet he didn't work hard to get rid of all these and chose to steal my pen! Would my pen being stolen change the fact that he's born to be insulted by me? I think it simply means that he's too powerless, too stupid, too idle to choose a fair play or something.

Well, I think all the terrorists are but pen-stealers. They fear to conflict with the military power of the most powerful country on the planet, so the chose to attack World Trade Center.

And you are no better than supporters of a pen-stealer.

The Most Precious Thing You'll Ever Learn

“What’s the most precious thing in your own opinion?”, the teacher asked.
“The Nobel Prize!” “A great amount of cash!” “To be the US President!” they shouted.
But what’s the most precious thing for me? I wondered.
I bet I am the most unpopular guy in this world. In the eyes of my classmates, I, nicknamed “monster”, am ugly, weak, and dump. What's more, my ideas are so different from others. In a word, I had nothing to give others a positive impression, say nothing of attracting anyone. I did’t know what I expected, or rather, what I deserved. Hence, I simply kept quiet.
“Well, this is the topic for the composition of this week. Hand it in next Monday.”, the teacher said at the end of class.

So I went back home. Lying on the bed, I looked at the TV screen, absent minded, until I heard some noise outside. So I raised my head, and looked out of the window.
“UFO!”
I thought I should have bought a pair of better glasses, but it seemed that it had nothing to do with glasses. It floated high above the yard, and a door opened. An alien walked out of it, then the door shut and the UFO took off.
The alien stood in the middle of lawn, seemed confused.
Had it been another guy who saw it, he must had screamed and became crazy or something. But as I told you, I am a “monster”. So I opened the door and slowly approached the alien.
It had a face so similar to that of a human-being, more precisely, the face of a pretty human teenage girl. Her—if it’s really female—skin was blue. There were a couple of tentacles on top of her head. She was slender, and about an inch shorter than me. She turn to me, quite surprised.
My brain suddenly got blank, didn’t know what to say.
“So…You’re a so-call human?”It's a sweet voice.
“…Yes. You speaks English?”
“Before I come here, the necessary knowledge of human language, I loaded.”
“So…why do you come here?”
“Our spaceship’s down, and I have to leave to make it safe. Take me they will, when the ship’s repaired.”, and she gave me a feeble smile.
“And…where did you come from?”
“My home is so warm, it never snows there. Everything on your planet is so unfamiliar to me. It’s my first voyage in space. I miss my home!”
The instant I saw teardrops in her eyes, I, universally known as "cold, cruel and mean to girls that dare talk to him if there's ever one", suddenly had some crush in my heart.
“Well, it’s my house. Come on in, it warmer inside.”
She hesitated, but eventually came in. I noticed she only wore a thin dress, so I took some of my sister’s coats.
“You wear too little, wear all these if you don’t mind.”
She wore it on and said, “Thank you.”
“Any food?”
“No thanks. Now, I’ll find a place to pass the night.”
“Hey, it’s too late now. My sister won’t be back tonight, so why not sleep in her bedroom?”
“Ok, then.”, she followed me into my sister’s bedroom. Before closing the door, she smile and said, “I heard that human were hostile creatures, and had never expected all these. So nice of you, it is.”, she gave me a big, sweet smile.
There had NEVER been ANYBODY who said I’m nice…

I talked to her every night during the following days, and realized a lot about her. She was a “Twi’lek”, and came from a high-tech world. She said she was always unpopular in her school because she pursued “Twi’lekity” while everyone else pursues “science”. She was taunted as "too young, too simple, too naive" and no one had mood to hear her "bullshit".
I had never expected to find an alien friend who shares so much experiences with me.
Neither did she, I can see.
Sometimes, I hoped she would stay forever.

However, one of my neighbors also noticed the UFO, and she reported it to the FBI. The FBI, as usual, desired to catch it, slice her body for so-called “scientific research”.
“I swear I shall NEVER allow it from happening.” I promised to her.
“Well, never mind. It’s also the custom of my people to learn more about alien creatures in this way. And, there’s no way to avoid it, it seems.”
“For the ‘scientific research’, huh? These fools cares nothing but ‘knowledge’ and ‘discovering the unknown world’, in the expense of nature and humanity? I must find a way to stop it.”
“I have never heard anyone who said like this.”, she said quietly, “You’re probably the SOLE guy I've ever met in my life to understand me, and the SOLE guy to care about me.”
The FBI scums came that night. I got two bikes. We rode crazily along the road, but they blocked the road. So we abandoned the bike and ran onto a hill. They surrounded the hill, it seems so despair. However, the UFO landed in front of us.
“I have to leave. Thank you so much for all these!”, she said.
“Wait!”, and she turned to me.
“Will you be back to earth one day?”
“I’m sorry that I will never have such a chance, maybe.”
“So how can I contact you?”
“On cloudless night, speak quietly to my planet, and I can feel it.”
“Wait!”
“What?”
“I love you!”
“I know.”
The UFO took off.

It was midnight when I came home. And I remembered it was Sunday, and I’ve a paper to work on. So I took out my pen and wrote:
“The most precious thing you’ll ever learn, is to love and be loved in return!”