Borges. I cant come up with a better title.

What to say about Borges? Where do i start? Chronological order sounds appropriate enough. Sometime else i did it alphabetically. "The Garden of Forking Paths," this is why James Bond is English; the only thing he needs to prove is that he can shag any woman he wants. Our protagonist is no James bond, nor an Englishman, he is a Chinese man out to prove yellow is in no way inferior to white. Aside from the spy novel aspect of the story, there is something much deeper, beautiful, and, to me, personally satisfying- a book. Labyrinthine in nature, winding down paths of time that all happen at once in a way that no mortal man may truly comprehend by the nature of his personal single timeline. The story puts forth a timeline that diverges into many events that fork off into other events, converge at certain points, and lead to infinite possibilities for even infinitesimal changes. The book was not that different from my personal view on time, this would be where those who do not value the musings of a madman should turn their head till the other realities have finished intaking my views, I've always thought of time as an infinite set of timelines where there is a timeline for literally every possibility and outcome of chance, only that they are all set, as trains in a track, and these choices appear as free will to those within the timeline only because of a lack of prior knowledge. In my view, in the future I have already written this blog posting, the outcome was already set and written, further in the future, the posting will have occurred in the past; because the posting is past tense in the future, it has already happened and so was already set in the first place- only i do not know the future result of my path, therefore i still have to think of all these words to type out with my cold fingers on my warm keyboard. In another reality, I am typing on a cold keyboard with warm fingers because i live in a South American city where summer is in full blast. In another one it is just because my apartment is warmer than it is here in this reality. Will I choose to go on and talk about "The Gospel According to Mark"? In this reality I think I will. But what will i say? I don't know yet what is to be written. Ignorance scares me. Ever been near someone that can’t use a large machine that they have gotten their mitts on? The most obvious example that i encounter almost daily is that of a crappy driver in a car. Faith can be like a car, put a well knowledged driver behind the wheel, everything's fine, take someone that doesn't care to learn how to properly control their vehicle and it becomes a deadly weapon. The Gutres hit Espinoza like a strung out party girl on a cell phone getting drunk. In another reality it's a pimp shooting up smack while driving. They end up using their faith as a deadly weapon, well, faith and a couple of old beams. Emma Zunz seems to be just as good at using her intellect as a deadly weapon as the Gutres do their faith. In "Emma Zunz" a nice sweet little girl morphs into a psychopathic murderer. One must almost admire her ability to do so. This one must put emphasis on the almost because it is too diabolical for him to endorse, even for a written persona. In another fork of reality, Borges wrote about how Emma killed the Gutres because Espinoza was her father. In this reality i believe i have reached a conclusion, and my poor freezing hands will thank me for finally doing so.