Cavalier

Does it every annoy you to meet someone that isn’t confused?  Have you ever met someone that was completely confident in all their assertions?  When I was a boy, it seemed to me that adults knew things.  They didn’t believe things they knew them.  They didn’t seem confused about life to my eyes then, but it was a farce.  The things I was sure of when I was a boy, I am unsure of now.  Odd how deeper knowledge of the world brings not “enlightenment” but an obfuscation.  As I continue to learn about life will I eventually cross through the nebula and find some clear air, where I can rest assured of something?  Or will deeper knowledge always lead to deeper confusion?  Will I just become set in my ways one day when I’m in my 30’s or 40’s?

There are a lot of subjects in life that I’ve adopted a cavalier attitude about.  Most of these subjects are polarizing ones: Christianity & religion-in-general, gay rights, relationships, abortion, politics, etc.  I’m afraid I’ve become something of an “Idea Hipster”.  I rarely agree with the mainstream perspectives on any subject, and I constantly find myself off in the margin.  It’s an alienating feeling.  The most polarizing issues in our society tend to be very, very complex.  How could 314 million (US) people possibly come up with only two different sides?  Everyday I become a little more frustrated with “Bumper Sticker” politics, theology, and ideas-in-general.  There is literally no perspective about life that can be boiled down to fit comfortably into a pithy phrase or quote, but people want to live simple lives and keep clean ideas in their minds.  People want blanket solutions to complex problems, and poetic answers to cosmic questions.

The problem, perhaps, is that people aren’t using their imagination.  Is it a new problem?  I don’t know.  Maybe we’ve all stopped using our imagination and allowed the internet, TV and radio to imagine things for us.  Or maybe the world has always been full of people who have never had their paradigms challenged, and have never had to wade through an uncomfortable shift in their perspective.  Shifts in perspective are always uncomfortable, because they don’t often arrive in the form of revelations or epiphanies, but through slow labor and mulling.  It is an aversion to pain and change that keeps men and women from using their imagination, to placing themselves in the positions of others.  Truthfully, though I decry their stubbornness, I understand it completely.  And I do not think I could, in good conscience, ask someone to go through the pain of change, even if that is what is necessary for everyone’s health and sanity. Why? Because, perhaps ironically, I don’t think I would like that myself.  Change is such a voluntary and internal process that even the slightest challenge to a persons point-of-view can cause him/her to go into lock-down mode.

If there did exist a single phrase that could sum up the solution to the all the world’s problems, I think it would be this: “Love Your Neighbor as Yourself”.

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Cynicism

Living next to a city isn’t very fun when the few friends you have don’t ever go outside.  There is so much to see and do – museums, aquariums, memorials, landmarks, concerts, plays, etc.  The more time I spend being a hermit in my room, the dimmer and more dreary my life grows.  Sometimes I just go out alone and see what there is to see, but I rarely enjoy it much.  I don’t like spending that much time with my own mind.  Thinking too much – being far too stoic – is a real problem for me.  The more time I spend with my own mind, the more likely I am to lead myself down a dreary path. I have an inner-slant towards cynicism.

Cynicism is a poison.  I could write for hours about the negative effects of cynicism in my life.  It so heavily influences day-to-day decisions and attitudes that it can spread rot over every part your life when left unchecked.  Letting cynicism reign free is like never cleaning your teeth – people will start falling out of your life…just like your teeth would if you didn’t brush them.  

Anywho, tonight on the roster is Roman Holiday, Hepburn’s first big film!  I’m gonna sit down with a cool glass of gin, fill out job applications, and watch this film.

 

 

Why are weights so heavy!?

I’ve got a few sets of dumbbells sitting in the trunk of my car – up to a pair of 35 lbs.  I should really carry them up to my apartment, but they are oh-so-very heavy.  Unfortunately, I live on the third floor of my apartment, which is not equipped with an elevator.  I’d like the meet the engineers who decided that creating a multi-story building without an elevator was a good idea.  Aren’t elevators required by law for handicap accessibility or something?  Whatever.  I don’t know why I’m paying so much for this place.  Harken unto me!  Change will be coming soon.

I spent this past weekend getting my hands on a bunch of classic Audrey Hepburn and Grace Kelly films.  I amassed quite a number of them – enough to keep me watching for the rest of the semester, most probably.

On a different note, here is great song, performed live, from the new Young the Giant album:

Video store, Hepburn, Kafka on the Shore

I went to a mythical place yesterday.  A place that, until recently, I thought was lost to the world forever.  It was a video store.  Strictly speaking, this particular location of ‘MovieStop’ (a branch off of GameStop) did not rent out movies, only sold them.  I came across this magical place during my mostly fruitless search for classic Audrey Hepburn films. (Classic films are apparently a rarity these days.  I would procure my copies by…less official means, but alas I live on a college campus.)   Sadly, MovieStop only has a small collection of classic films for sale – but they are cheap, like the rest of the DVD’s sold there.  I managed to find a copy of “Funny Face”.  It was enjoyable…it had it’s charms, but I probably wouldn’t place it in my top 5 Hepburn films.

On a different note, I’ve recently been pondering the phrase “Art for Art’s Sake”.  Every song I write is easier to flesh out then the one before it.  I’m also excited less every time inspiration hits.  I guess this is because I rarely see any reward for the love and care I put into a song.  I suppose at this point I should just try and enjoy the process instead of expecting some kind of prize when I’m finished.  The feeling is just so indeterminate.  I have a couple people willing to listen, and I’d likely receive a pat on the back for my efforts, but I’d rather hide my creation forever than be patronized for it.

On a different, different note, I have been listening to the book “Kafka on the Shore” in audiobook format.  I’d heard only great things about the book, but now, 4/5 of the way through, all I can say is that I despise this book.  I deleted it off my phone without even getting to the end.  The entire book was just really bad philosophy poorly disguised as storytelling, with the occasional graphic sexual scene thrown in for good measure…to each his own I guess.