September, 1993 Not sure what day, but it was about 2:30pm, as school let out.
I was in the 5th grade I think. I remember running across the dirt field where they held field day in May each year. I was excited for it next year - I always thought myself a runner and often took first or second place in years before, and wanted another chance to race. I ran up the hill toward the path that lead into the neighborhood, to get home. This was the first year Chris was in middle school, and no matter how much we fought, I always felt comfortable with him walking home - He's my big brother and as long as we're together we'll be safe. Without him, I had been scared walking home and really didn't like it.
As I got to the top of the hill, I saw mom's car along side the road and my heart swelled up. I figured mom was home early and this was another of her surprises I always loved. I ran to the car and opened the door to an even better one - Grandpa. I had always called him "my buddy" though in retrospect, I don't think he was much one for kids in a lot of ways, or at least kids at my age. Regardless, he smiled at me and said hello. I had asked him why he was here; In the past Dad brought me out to see the family and outside of special events, Grandma and Grandpa never came out to Colorado. The one thing about Clyde I always had a great deal of respect for was something, to this day, I never got out of many people - He was honest in the truest sense of the word. He told me "Your mother is in the hospital, and has a tumor on her lung, but it may be benign and not malignant, we're not sure." I had understood the words, even malignant and benign (Dad always used more complex vocabulary with my brother and I, something I am STILL thankful for) but I didn't truly grasp their meaning. I couldn't have really told you the difference between malignant and benign, except that they were opposite each other in some fashion. All I had known was Mom was sick, but I got the sense she would be ok.
What had seemed like two years, but was really a matter of months had gone by. I never had a doubt in my mind that Mom would be ok. I had never heard (or at least not remembered) that they confirmed the tumor was malignant. I was upset because the big couch that I loved got moved out of the house and replaced with a hospital bed. This meant that the TV was mostly off limits which meant no video games, but Grandpa had bought Chris a personal TV and he had bought a Super Nintendo with money he saved from a summer job. I was really jealous. That was the foremost thing on my mind - I didn't think much about Mom and her being bed-ridden in the living room. I figured it was just part of what she had to do to get better, so Grandma and Grandpa could leave and we could go back to the way we lived before. I figured it was a matter of time.
We still went to see Dad who seemed disconnected from my life since Mom and Dad's divorce - I hadn't really connected with him much at that point. It took time for us to do so... as it turned out, it took us a lot longer than it was probably "supposed" to.
At home, I was still waiting for Mom to get better. I was confused, I wanted to do something but knew there was nothing I could. Mom would smile at me and had told me that she was eating buttered crackers instead of smoking - Something she had a hard time with even though she was sick. I later found out; She quit cold-turkey when she knew she was pregnant with my brother and I.
I had watched her hair fall out a few months earlier, though she wore some bandana kind of thing. She was always very thin on account of her diet, but now was almost skeletal. She had become jaundice because of the chemotherapy and her eyes were a tinge of yellow. I didn't know what to say, or think. I just wanted her to be Mom again but physically, she couldn't. I had heard something about "it" spreading to her colon and her bone marrow. - Again I knew the words but translating them into something I understood was beyond me at that point.
In early April I was called out of school I was kind of excited I got away from class, but when I saw my Grandma, I wasn't sure what to think. I was to go see Mom in the hospital. I had wondered why she was there and Grandma told me that there was a problem at home and Mom had to be rushed to the hospital - I still don't know what exactly happened. We went and saw Mom, I gave her a hug and told her I loved her, then was taken out of the room.
Chris and I were at home some nights later and Grandma and Grandpa were told they had to go to the hospital. I wanted to go with and see Mom. I was told I couldn't. Chris and I stayed home and played video games, and after a few minutes, I stopped and looked at him. "I think she's about to die." "No dude, it'll be okay. Let's just keep playing, she'll be fine."
That morning my Grandparents told me I shouldn't go to school, and should stay home. I wanted to be excited I got to skip school but I knew something was wrong - Later that afternoon, my Grandma told me and my brother, that mom had died the night before. I was off by a matter of minutes.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Sucker Punch and My View of Art. (Spoiler Alert)
I had a pretty obvious emotional reaction to this movie - I was utterly and completely appalled. They may as well just televise the explicit rape and exploitation of women then illustrate their ultimate solace as a lobotomy. - OH WAIT THEY DID.
Seriously folks. If you haven't seen it, and clicked the link I'm sure you have already seen the movie, don't care or won't see the movie, and so you should know - This movie conveyed images of explicit human depravity, followed by an altruistic sacrifice that ended in a fantasized conveyance of the story whose entire expression was that there is freedom in a lobotomy. Literally. Lobotomy. "Turn off your brain, and you will find peace."
Now, I feel I should explain my perspective on Art.
Being a Romantic, (not in the sense of romantic love, but in the sense of art) I tend to focus on powerful, compelling emotions that inspire and motivate, as well as the bigger message conveyed, or the bigger goal of the art. - "What are you trying to say? What emotions are you trying to inspire or spark?" The conveyance in art is an emotional association implicitly, but is explicitly intended.
If art is to be expression, then I would ask if the goal is to simply interpret whatever you want from it, or if the goal is to interpret what the artist is expressing? "Modern Art" of the 1980's-2000+'s brought about the notion that art is what you interpret, not what is conveyed. Now, I realize most people will interpret art a little differently from person to person. I get that. I get inspired and driven when I hear metal, others think it cacophony or just angry. Our emotional reactions are based largely on learned and automated value judgments we make as soon as we see art. The problem I have however is that there MUST be some commonality between us, logically, biologically, and emotionally. - This is after all, what makes us Human. Perhaps not our hearts. Perhaps not our values. But...
I want to know who finds rampant exploitation of women, explicit murder, mental institutions and the idea that there is some freedom in lobotomization and archaic human sacrifice, to be an emotional association worthy of art. I don't see the artistic value of human depravity, in film or anywhere else, and I don't see how pain and tragedy is art.
I watched the Hangover recently and saw a scene about one of the characters having been restricted from being within 100 feet of a school and thought - This isn't funny, it's really fucked up. There's no humor in that.
To me, what we look for in art is a desire to feel one way or another - an inspiration, and perhaps there's a depressive association in this "art" yet it makes me wonder - Is this what you WANT to feel? Perhaps this is my problem with Trent Reznor and Radiohead as well - It INSPIRES depressive and painful emotions, and I can't help but ask...
"WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT TO FEEL THIS WAY?"
I understand very well that it may be HOW you feel, but my question again is - do you WANT to feel that way? This is my perspective on art; How do I want to feel, and does this inspire me to those emotions? Does this represent the goal, or the good? If it doesn't - Does it tell a story about reality? Does it display something that should be changed or convey a message of value?
Sucker Punch did NOTHING of the sort, and was the polar opposite of everything I hold to be good. It conveyed;
A. Wanton Exploitation of Women and treatment of them as sex-toys.
B. The only solace in existence is to evade reality in a dream.
C. There is value in self-immolation and personal destruction for the sake of another.
D. The ultimate happiness is not the end of depravity, but to lobotomize your mind and disconnect, because such depravity is the core of the story (existence.)
E. Tragedy for the sake of invoking sadness.
I realize there are many who find artistic value in tragedies, and sadness. I ask the same question from before - Do you WANT to feel sad? Or is life so cush, that watching a tragedy is the only way to experience it? I've often marveled at those who find art in depravity and sadness, and wonder what their emotional reaction is - Whether it's association or comfort, or perhaps both. I also wonder - Is it a reflection of our affluence; Without real, significant pain in life, do we seek it in art as a psychological balance? Art is one of the many ways in which I think my perspective on reality vastly differs from most, potentially as a result of my mothers death when I was young, and other factors. That's just a theory though.
In the end, I would have walked out on this movie within fifteen minutes, had I not wanted to keep being with the friends I accompanied. I stayed and my explicit emotional reaction occasionally brought me to a tear, had me feeling terrible, and ultimately left me asking - "What is left to call good?" This movie was simply cruel and tragic. I would have been overjoyed if they ended it with some sort of Perfect Blue caliber reality swap up. But no. It was just sad.
Maybe the mission was accomplished?
Seriously folks. If you haven't seen it, and clicked the link I'm sure you have already seen the movie, don't care or won't see the movie, and so you should know - This movie conveyed images of explicit human depravity, followed by an altruistic sacrifice that ended in a fantasized conveyance of the story whose entire expression was that there is freedom in a lobotomy. Literally. Lobotomy. "Turn off your brain, and you will find peace."
Now, I feel I should explain my perspective on Art.
Being a Romantic, (not in the sense of romantic love, but in the sense of art) I tend to focus on powerful, compelling emotions that inspire and motivate, as well as the bigger message conveyed, or the bigger goal of the art. - "What are you trying to say? What emotions are you trying to inspire or spark?" The conveyance in art is an emotional association implicitly, but is explicitly intended.
If art is to be expression, then I would ask if the goal is to simply interpret whatever you want from it, or if the goal is to interpret what the artist is expressing? "Modern Art" of the 1980's-2000+'s brought about the notion that art is what you interpret, not what is conveyed. Now, I realize most people will interpret art a little differently from person to person. I get that. I get inspired and driven when I hear metal, others think it cacophony or just angry. Our emotional reactions are based largely on learned and automated value judgments we make as soon as we see art. The problem I have however is that there MUST be some commonality between us, logically, biologically, and emotionally. - This is after all, what makes us Human. Perhaps not our hearts. Perhaps not our values. But...
I want to know who finds rampant exploitation of women, explicit murder, mental institutions and the idea that there is some freedom in lobotomization and archaic human sacrifice, to be an emotional association worthy of art. I don't see the artistic value of human depravity, in film or anywhere else, and I don't see how pain and tragedy is art.
I watched the Hangover recently and saw a scene about one of the characters having been restricted from being within 100 feet of a school and thought - This isn't funny, it's really fucked up. There's no humor in that.
To me, what we look for in art is a desire to feel one way or another - an inspiration, and perhaps there's a depressive association in this "art" yet it makes me wonder - Is this what you WANT to feel? Perhaps this is my problem with Trent Reznor and Radiohead as well - It INSPIRES depressive and painful emotions, and I can't help but ask...
"WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT TO FEEL THIS WAY?"
I understand very well that it may be HOW you feel, but my question again is - do you WANT to feel that way? This is my perspective on art; How do I want to feel, and does this inspire me to those emotions? Does this represent the goal, or the good? If it doesn't - Does it tell a story about reality? Does it display something that should be changed or convey a message of value?
Sucker Punch did NOTHING of the sort, and was the polar opposite of everything I hold to be good. It conveyed;
A. Wanton Exploitation of Women and treatment of them as sex-toys.
B. The only solace in existence is to evade reality in a dream.
C. There is value in self-immolation and personal destruction for the sake of another.
D. The ultimate happiness is not the end of depravity, but to lobotomize your mind and disconnect, because such depravity is the core of the story (existence.)
E. Tragedy for the sake of invoking sadness.
I realize there are many who find artistic value in tragedies, and sadness. I ask the same question from before - Do you WANT to feel sad? Or is life so cush, that watching a tragedy is the only way to experience it? I've often marveled at those who find art in depravity and sadness, and wonder what their emotional reaction is - Whether it's association or comfort, or perhaps both. I also wonder - Is it a reflection of our affluence; Without real, significant pain in life, do we seek it in art as a psychological balance? Art is one of the many ways in which I think my perspective on reality vastly differs from most, potentially as a result of my mothers death when I was young, and other factors. That's just a theory though.
In the end, I would have walked out on this movie within fifteen minutes, had I not wanted to keep being with the friends I accompanied. I stayed and my explicit emotional reaction occasionally brought me to a tear, had me feeling terrible, and ultimately left me asking - "What is left to call good?" This movie was simply cruel and tragic. I would have been overjoyed if they ended it with some sort of Perfect Blue caliber reality swap up. But no. It was just sad.
Maybe the mission was accomplished?
Saturday, March 12, 2011
"They think I'm giving them hell. I'm just telling the truth, and they think it's hell." - President Truman
Someone said recently (not to me, just in general) "I'd rather you be honest, once and for all... if not, I'm out."
I half-chuckled at the statement. I don't mean that pejoratively but what made me smile was the interesting truth dichotomy in the statement, and it got me thinking about truth relative to human interaction, social interaction that is.
Rule #1 of Human Interaction is... "Don't ever tell the truth, unless you are CERTAIN the situation is of extreme polarity." I.e. it's either really important, or really useless.
Now, this sounds pretty shitty when I put it like that, but think about it for a moment. The classic and easy example is "Do I look fat in these jeans?" - I'm not trying to target anyone by implication here, I'm just using the most obvious example (to me.)
The correct answer to that question, requires NO evaluation of facts and is some variety of "Not at all!"
Now, I've used this example many a time before, and the truth element of it will vary. It's possible the jeans don't make you look fat, or it's possible that you may look fat in ANYTHING you wear. But being truthful will almost always yield less than positive results, so we lie through our teeth to make someone else happy.
Moreover, the whole purpose of asking a question like that is to solicit for positive answer. The question isn't being asked for the sake of the truth, the question is being asked because the person asking it wants someone to make them feel good.
How fucked up is that? Take the same concept and apply it else where - We lie to make others feel better, never mind what the reality of the situation is. People lie to us in fear of making us upset or to try and obtain a positive reaction. Don't forget, the origin of the term "Being conned" comes from the word "Convince." (Also note, our entire political structure is, at this point, based on conning people into marking a box.) Can you ever tell if someone is being honest or just trying to make you feel better?
Now, more than ever, we're concerned with how we feel, with what makes us feel good instead of what really is.
Many talk about being individual, yet all the while they cater to the pack by trying to seek positive social responses from others, instead of actually saying what they think. We even misrepresent our lives through the mass of social media like Facebook and Twitter. There's a separate blog post on that I edited out of here. Suffice it to say - Everyone wants to tell the world how perpetually awesome their life is, when the truth of the situation is, we all have our ups and downs.
Most people don't genuinely want to hear the truth. They want to hear what makes them feel good. Every failed relationship is a result of dishonesty, generally on the part of both human beings, not just one or the other. In the end, I chuckled because the question that always strikes my mind when I hear something like that is, "Is that REALLY what you want?" For 99.999% of people the answer is, "No, I really don't."
I think this may be why I went from a glib socialite that could work a crowd and woo the ladies, to a hardened dick seems socially awkward and can't find a girlfriend to save my life. I got tired of bullshitting people and more importantly, myself.
The downside, is that I'm now typing this knowing full and well that I have "recently" started bullshitting the world again and it's because loneliness struck about two years ago. I think it's time for a change of direction.
Edit,and P.S.: I'm not saying I've been bullshitting friends and family about me. Just that I've left many parts of me at home when I venture out. I've decided to start bringing them with me.
I half-chuckled at the statement. I don't mean that pejoratively but what made me smile was the interesting truth dichotomy in the statement, and it got me thinking about truth relative to human interaction, social interaction that is.
Rule #1 of Human Interaction is... "Don't ever tell the truth, unless you are CERTAIN the situation is of extreme polarity." I.e. it's either really important, or really useless.
Now, this sounds pretty shitty when I put it like that, but think about it for a moment. The classic and easy example is "Do I look fat in these jeans?" - I'm not trying to target anyone by implication here, I'm just using the most obvious example (to me.)
The correct answer to that question, requires NO evaluation of facts and is some variety of "Not at all!"
Now, I've used this example many a time before, and the truth element of it will vary. It's possible the jeans don't make you look fat, or it's possible that you may look fat in ANYTHING you wear. But being truthful will almost always yield less than positive results, so we lie through our teeth to make someone else happy.
Moreover, the whole purpose of asking a question like that is to solicit for positive answer. The question isn't being asked for the sake of the truth, the question is being asked because the person asking it wants someone to make them feel good.
How fucked up is that? Take the same concept and apply it else where - We lie to make others feel better, never mind what the reality of the situation is. People lie to us in fear of making us upset or to try and obtain a positive reaction. Don't forget, the origin of the term "Being conned" comes from the word "Convince." (Also note, our entire political structure is, at this point, based on conning people into marking a box.) Can you ever tell if someone is being honest or just trying to make you feel better?
Now, more than ever, we're concerned with how we feel, with what makes us feel good instead of what really is.
Many talk about being individual, yet all the while they cater to the pack by trying to seek positive social responses from others, instead of actually saying what they think. We even misrepresent our lives through the mass of social media like Facebook and Twitter. There's a separate blog post on that I edited out of here. Suffice it to say - Everyone wants to tell the world how perpetually awesome their life is, when the truth of the situation is, we all have our ups and downs.
Most people don't genuinely want to hear the truth. They want to hear what makes them feel good. Every failed relationship is a result of dishonesty, generally on the part of both human beings, not just one or the other. In the end, I chuckled because the question that always strikes my mind when I hear something like that is, "Is that REALLY what you want?" For 99.999% of people the answer is, "No, I really don't."
I think this may be why I went from a glib socialite that could work a crowd and woo the ladies, to a hardened dick seems socially awkward and can't find a girlfriend to save my life. I got tired of bullshitting people and more importantly, myself.
The downside, is that I'm now typing this knowing full and well that I have "recently" started bullshitting the world again and it's because loneliness struck about two years ago. I think it's time for a change of direction.
Edit,and P.S.: I'm not saying I've been bullshitting friends and family about me. Just that I've left many parts of me at home when I venture out. I've decided to start bringing them with me.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
The Contradiction of Cultural Identity
This is one of those little rants that's been wedged in the back of my mind for about a year. A few years back I was told that (I'm not quoting exactly here) "I am a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant (WASP), and the way I think and operate as such is guided by my culture." Or, "My drive for rational and logical thought is because I'm white." Now, all racial implications aside, I started analyzing this argument.
Before I dive in however, I feel I should explain Cultural Identity. What was said, is based on a theory that much of a person's identity is made up of a multitude of cultural identifiers, such as place, race, history, nationality, language, religious beliefs, etc. These identifiers guide how you're raised and as such, how you think and what you see as right and wrong.
So, to bring the points together, because I was raised with a northwestern European background both religiously and historically, I try to be rational and logical in my thinking. (There was another few elements that this debate was derived from, that would start a long tangent. Perhaps another post.)
To halt any beating of bushes, I have two simple statements I hope will demonstrate my point.
Cultural Identity is Bullshit.
First. Let's presume that Cultural Identity is correct, and see if the dots connect.
If my mode of thought and persona are guided by my culture, and I have obviously recognized that such is driving my thought processes and identity, and so we have then said - You cannot change it. If my identity is driven by my culture then I have no capacity to alter my mode of thought, because it's learned from a set of circumstances beyond my control well before I was even born. (Also indirectly saying that people are not born Tabula Rasa.)
Second. Let's presume as we did before, that Cultural Identity is correct, but in recognizing it I can change it (The free will thing.) It no longer becomes a necessary condition, and is no longer "Identity" - The ability to alter your mode of thought and persona invalidate it as an aspect of Identity, because you have the capacity to recognize what you're doing, and change. You have the ability to change, which means the essence of your character isn't cultural, it's just... what you want it to be.
In the first scenario, the notion of Cultural Identity is like looking at a man and saying "You are a man." - Thank you Captain Obvious, now what are we DOING about it? Hating a group for being who they are amounts to cultural bigotry while trying to change the circumstances yields a whole new question. The second scenario supposes we CAN do something about it, which turns the whole idea of Cultural Identity into a glaring contradiction.
Now, perhaps there's some concept that I'm not recognizing, or am just ignorant of, and I would ask - Please, comment. If I've overlooked something, I'd like to know what it is.
Identity deals with "Is" and "Are." The content of a person's mind and WHO they ARE, is guided by their conscious choices about what to believe and accept, and what not to. Many are not conscious of who they are, or what compels them to action, or simply can't handle the notion that each person is an individual capable of acting and behaving of their OWN accord. The capacity to recognize what drives us to certain actions gives us the ability to change our behavior. We can be driven biologically or emotionally to a specific action, but in recognizing what those drives are, we have the ability (unlike most of the animal kingdom) to follow or deny those drives based on the outcome we want to achieve. That ability is what defines our Identity - The values that guide our choices, in the face of whatever would drive us to act, and the capacity to define those values independently, in the face of all other influences.
Before I dive in however, I feel I should explain Cultural Identity. What was said, is based on a theory that much of a person's identity is made up of a multitude of cultural identifiers, such as place, race, history, nationality, language, religious beliefs, etc. These identifiers guide how you're raised and as such, how you think and what you see as right and wrong.
So, to bring the points together, because I was raised with a northwestern European background both religiously and historically, I try to be rational and logical in my thinking. (There was another few elements that this debate was derived from, that would start a long tangent. Perhaps another post.)
To halt any beating of bushes, I have two simple statements I hope will demonstrate my point.
Cultural Identity is Bullshit.
First. Let's presume that Cultural Identity is correct, and see if the dots connect.
If my mode of thought and persona are guided by my culture, and I have obviously recognized that such is driving my thought processes and identity, and so we have then said - You cannot change it. If my identity is driven by my culture then I have no capacity to alter my mode of thought, because it's learned from a set of circumstances beyond my control well before I was even born. (Also indirectly saying that people are not born Tabula Rasa.)
Second. Let's presume as we did before, that Cultural Identity is correct, but in recognizing it I can change it (The free will thing.) It no longer becomes a necessary condition, and is no longer "Identity" - The ability to alter your mode of thought and persona invalidate it as an aspect of Identity, because you have the capacity to recognize what you're doing, and change. You have the ability to change, which means the essence of your character isn't cultural, it's just... what you want it to be.
In the first scenario, the notion of Cultural Identity is like looking at a man and saying "You are a man." - Thank you Captain Obvious, now what are we DOING about it? Hating a group for being who they are amounts to cultural bigotry while trying to change the circumstances yields a whole new question. The second scenario supposes we CAN do something about it, which turns the whole idea of Cultural Identity into a glaring contradiction.
Now, perhaps there's some concept that I'm not recognizing, or am just ignorant of, and I would ask - Please, comment. If I've overlooked something, I'd like to know what it is.
Identity deals with "Is" and "Are." The content of a person's mind and WHO they ARE, is guided by their conscious choices about what to believe and accept, and what not to. Many are not conscious of who they are, or what compels them to action, or simply can't handle the notion that each person is an individual capable of acting and behaving of their OWN accord. The capacity to recognize what drives us to certain actions gives us the ability to change our behavior. We can be driven biologically or emotionally to a specific action, but in recognizing what those drives are, we have the ability (unlike most of the animal kingdom) to follow or deny those drives based on the outcome we want to achieve. That ability is what defines our Identity - The values that guide our choices, in the face of whatever would drive us to act, and the capacity to define those values independently, in the face of all other influences.
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