Learning To Accept

Being back in Marquette has made me realize some things. I used to come back and people would be in the same place they were when I left. Doing the same thing, drinking the same drinks, eating the same foods, laughing at the same jokes. I used to think "How sad, they're still here, I'm trying, but they're just lying down and taking it." I'm realizing how incredibly insensitive I was being. Whatever their life is, it is their life to live, and they seem happy. Maybe I'm the sad one always reaching for the next thing, rather than being happy with what is right in front of me. I don't want it to sound like it's good to let go of your dreams or to give up, but if your happy, be happy. Who am I to feel sadness for someone who has found happiness. They've found it. It's not what I want, but why can't I just be happy for someone simply because they're happy. Why do I always feel the need to quantify someone's success? Why do I need to assign achieved degrees, and job titles to someone to prove to myself that they're happy? Just because they don't have some things, doesn't mean they don't have it all. I apologize.

The Business Of Taking Pictures

I've been on a couple of trips recently. I've noticed a few things. One: I like being on vacation. Two: A lot of pictures are taken. I'm fine with picture taking, in fact I'm usually doing a good percentage of the photography. Have, however, digital cameras or cameras in general become a substitute for experience? I've noticed people will get to whatever destination, make sure everyone is photographed in that spot then they move on. It seems like the more important thing has become the photographic evidence of your being there, rather than your own experience. I was recently traveling with my brother and his girlfriend and we went on a bike ride and she would stop frequently to take a picture of us, or the scenery, then move on. After the ride was over we loaded up the bikes into the van and headed off. On the trip home she was looking through the pictures she just took, reminiscing over them as if they were some distant memory. I don't doubt she had a genuine lasting experience, but will she remember the place or the pictures more? I will admit to taking pictures with the specific purpose of uploading them to facebook just to show others that I did something or for my profile picture. I've really noticed a disconnect when I'm filming an event or something. I really just want to put my camera down and relax like everybody else. The weird thing about pictures though is that we try make them appear as if everything is business as usual someone just happened to taking a picture. Ah well. C'est La Vie... or something.

Extreme Ends

I was asked to join one of my friends in front of the capitol (of Lansing) this year, specifically on September 11th. He asked me if I wanted to help him pass out literature regarding 9/11 and how it might have been an "inside job." I've seen "Loose Change," I've even got a "9/11 was an inside job" sticker. I just don't know if I can completely trust any side enough to say I believe in one or the other. The facts are this, I saw a video report on CNN when I was in high school that said the twin towers had been struck by airplanes and that they later collapsed from these hits. I have been to New York and seen the memorial site at "ground zero." Ultimately though, I'm basing all of my information, besides those few pieces that I experienced personally, on reports from other people. It is just as likely that "9/11 was an inside job," as it is the government created these conspiracy groups. In the book "1984" by George Orwell, a place was described where all the information people received was from a central organization. This central organization spoke of wars and terrorist attacks and other such things. The people believed it because they were told to believe it. Today, most people get all of their information about the rest of the world from news agencies, blogs, web videos, or whatever. All these places are telling us that they've got the real story, and that we should trust them. I'm not saying you should avoid these things, but be willing to ask all the questions you can because ultimately only you can define your own truth. Basically, I will never be able to completely trust either side of the "9/11 was an inside job" story because one side will be always be telling me what they want me to hear, and the other side will be telling me what I want to hear. In my gut, I do believe that there was a tragic loss of good people on a massive scale that day and that while I talk about conspiracy theories and such I intend no mockery of their pain or loss. To paraphrase The Joker, tragedy is like gravity, sometimes all it takes is a little push. 9/11 was the push, and Iraq is our tragedy. Who knows.

Concerns about the world getting warmer, people thought they were just being rewarded.

I love the summer, I do. This heat though is killing me. Sleep has been crap at best. I can't think. I can't find motivation (not that I could before. It is the way of any good Michigan citizen worth his or her salt. When it's warm, wish for cold, when it's cold, wish for warm, and when somebody asks you where you live, hold up your hand.

The Magic Burn of Low Prices

Son: "Dad! My eyes are burning. Why?"
Dad: "That's the burn of low prices son. That's America."

I've recently moved into a new apartment and I quickly realized I'm missing quite a few living essentials. Plates, cups, silverware, cleaning supplies in general, and so on. I was going to go to [insert big name store here] but on the way there I saw a dollar store and thought "lets give it a whirl." I got inside and the first thing I noticed was a burning sensation in my eyes. Next I noticed the patrons had sad and defeated looks on all their faces. As I browsed the aisles I was surprised to find a lot of things I actually needed. Not only did I need them, but they were actually a dollar. It really was row after row of mass produced crap though. Like I said, I did need some of it, but the way it looked I'm guessing the stock of the store changes weekly based on what fell of wal-marts boat on the way to the states. It was an interesting experience and I'll go back one of these days but for now I got everything from there I could think of and I could also do without the burn in my eyes.

Performance of a Life

"The Dark Knight" was brilliant. I'm expecting to see it in ye olde IMax at some point soon with the cronies which I'm very much looking forward to. Now, to get right to it. I don't want to take away from Christian Bale, Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine, Arron Eckhart, Gary Oldman, Maggie Gyllenhaal, or even Anthony Michael Hall, but Heath Ledger as The Joker was fucking brilliant. I never knew I could have chills run down my spine as I laughed. Ledger so perfectly was madness. Was a deformation of humanity. Was uncompromising evil. I do not mean to be disrespectful to Ledger or his family, but him playing this character so completely must have contributed to his death. When I see The Joker on screen it scared me to think that I could no longer see Ledger in the eyes. He had become The Joker. Michael Meyers is well known for really getting into character, and he is fine (mostly), but Austin Powers wasn't insane. Ledger was getting into a character of unflinching evil. He spent almost a year getting into and playing a mad man. I wondered to myself if such a performance would make Ledger an amazing actor? Or was him becoming this character simply a sign of a weak sense of self? What if someone with a weak sense of self found this persona. One of confidence. One of genius, more importantly misunderstood genius. Could Ledger have developed a case of Stockholm's Syndrome, where a captive begins to sympathize with their captor. Could this character have taken Ledger hostage, then Ledger began to empathize with his points of view? Either way, "The Dark Knight" is an astounding cinematic achievement. One that I can't wait to see again soon.


P.S. Continuing the good fight, there was a "Watchmen" trailer at the beginning of the movie which I promptly closed my eyes and plugged my ears during. Go me.

Thar She Blows

There it is. The "Watchmen" trailer. It's teasing me. It wants to be watched. That is its singular purpose of existence. Who am I to deny an artistic vision. Who am I to deny purpose. But who am I to lie to myself. Who am I to squander so frivolously my own chance at the joy of discovery. No, I shall not click it today. For this day, this day, is the first day of the rest of my life!