It occurred to me that this Halloween will be the last of its kind. For the past several years there has been a constant question mark about what to do for Halloween. Should we dress up and go to a party? Should we stay home and hand out candy to hapless children brave enough to venture towards our house? Maybe instead we should just scamper off into the darkness and be devils. That's this year. Next year though we will have a built-in reason to celebrate holidays in a different way. Granted the tiny little person we bring with us won't be capable of saying 'Trick or Treat', but I'm hoping that her inevitable cuteness dressed as something easily recognizable and yet vaguely ironic will prompt people to dish out candy with abandon.
Halloween is one of the few American holidays that really attempts to twist reality a bit. It's meant to be fun and feel just a little bit dangerous. For a kid it's a bit like a scary movie coming to life. Dress up as something else and go out in the world and ask for sugar door to door. Who knows if you're going to make it back in one piece or more importantly, who knows how many boxes of raisins you're going to get stuck with. I thought my days of dressing up and asking for candy were behind me, but now there is a chance to make a comeback! As an adult if you dress up and go trick or treating it's very likely that you're going to get yourself arrested or at least not given a full share of candy because everyone knows you have the ability to just go out and buy the candy yourself. As an adult if you dress up and go trick or treating in a combined costume with your child then at the very least you'll be entitled to 25% of said candy earnings throughout the evening in question.
I think the part that will be most interesting to me is trying to see the world through the eyes of someone who doesn't have my level of experience. I don't pretend to understand all the various aspects of this world and probably know only enough to be dangerous. I'm not the smartest guy in the room, but I'm also not the dumbest. That said, I feel like I have a pretty good grasp on some of the basics about what can exist and what can't. A child doesn't know that the goblin attempting to ensnare that hot girl in a bikini (what on Earth are they watching?) isn't real and is based on someone's imagination. The lines of reality and fiction are still being formed. What was a normal street in the morning is now something sinister in the evening because Halloween blurs the lines of reality ever so slightly. Someone changed the rules for one night. Never mind the fact that as parents we constantly try and warn our children about the dangers of strangers. Then on one night we say it's OK to not only interact with strangers, but to go house to house asking people we don't know for candy. It's the only holiday we celebrate where it's expected that you wander through your neighborhood relying on the good nature of your neighbors. The other major holidays are more focused on turning towards the people you already know and celebrating the season. For a child it's probably a strange paradigm that really speaks to the way we as a society has separated ourselves from each other. Or it's about the candy. Yeah it's probably about the candy.
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Thursday, October 29, 2015
On the Unreliable Narration of Our Minds
Where do our memories go when we're not remembering them? Somewhere within our minds are all these experiences and feelings that have occurred throughout our lives. We don't know how they get put there or how we get them out when we want them. Our very perception of reality is being monitored by a system we don't fully understand and have very little control over.
There have been several times in the last few years where someone I grew up with would reminisce with me about our shared past and I have no memory of the event. I have to take their word for it that it happened. And even more important, that it happened the way they remember it. It's a strange thing to have pieces of my own past that others remember and I don't. Granted there are whole chunks of my early childhood that I can't remember because I was way too young to retain those memories. Both of my parents may not remember those events either. Logically, I know that the event must have happened, but if something happens and no one can remember it, how do you know what is real? Maybe it falls into that same category as the soundless tree in the woods. What if I remember something one way and someone else remembers it differently? What is the truth? Is there a singular truth when it comes to memory? If I can't remember something then I have to rely on someone else's memory to tell me what happened and that's a tricky thing when we already know that memory can't be trusted, even when it bothers to show up.
Have you ever been reminded of something you hadn't thought of in a very long time? It could have been years since you heard a song or saw a person or thought of that birthday party where the clown caught on fire. Suddenly the memory comes flooding back to the forefront of your mind. Where did it come from? How do I know what I'm remembering is the 'real' event and not some cobbled together amalgamation of memory and imagination? It's very weird to think that today may not be remembered very well a year from now. Even though this moment now is so clear in your mind, we seem to have very little control over what items make it into our long term memory. How much of our experience just fades away into nothing?
Today's world may be different because we as a society are so much more focused on capturing the moment, even if the moment is us eating a bacon taco with our friends on a random Tuesday evening. I'm not saying selfies and other forms of self-narration are bad. It's just that I've already covered how things like Facebook are a highlight reel of your life events. It's not the real record of truth, even though the outside world may think you lead an amazing life because you spent three months traveling the world and have all these great pictures standing next to things you see in movies. No one else gets to remember all the non-picture-worthy moments except us.
When I lived alone it became easy to assume that my narration was the right one. There wasn't anyone around to tell me differently. You start to believe everything you think, which may not always be what really happened. Now that I live with someone, there is a constant second observer to the events. Granted there are many times where we both experience something and immediately disagree on what actually happened, which really causes one to question if the person they're talking to is in fact crazy. The even scary part is, what if they're not and it's you who just went through something and perceived it completely out of whack with reality? Having a partner with you is both a blessing and a curse because you're often forced to immediately look back at something that happened, but through different eyes. Does this second person change the memory that would have been formed? Are you both now remembering variations on single event? Given enough time how will you know if your version is even close to what happened?
There have been several times in the last few years where someone I grew up with would reminisce with me about our shared past and I have no memory of the event. I have to take their word for it that it happened. And even more important, that it happened the way they remember it. It's a strange thing to have pieces of my own past that others remember and I don't. Granted there are whole chunks of my early childhood that I can't remember because I was way too young to retain those memories. Both of my parents may not remember those events either. Logically, I know that the event must have happened, but if something happens and no one can remember it, how do you know what is real? Maybe it falls into that same category as the soundless tree in the woods. What if I remember something one way and someone else remembers it differently? What is the truth? Is there a singular truth when it comes to memory? If I can't remember something then I have to rely on someone else's memory to tell me what happened and that's a tricky thing when we already know that memory can't be trusted, even when it bothers to show up.
Have you ever been reminded of something you hadn't thought of in a very long time? It could have been years since you heard a song or saw a person or thought of that birthday party where the clown caught on fire. Suddenly the memory comes flooding back to the forefront of your mind. Where did it come from? How do I know what I'm remembering is the 'real' event and not some cobbled together amalgamation of memory and imagination? It's very weird to think that today may not be remembered very well a year from now. Even though this moment now is so clear in your mind, we seem to have very little control over what items make it into our long term memory. How much of our experience just fades away into nothing?
Today's world may be different because we as a society are so much more focused on capturing the moment, even if the moment is us eating a bacon taco with our friends on a random Tuesday evening. I'm not saying selfies and other forms of self-narration are bad. It's just that I've already covered how things like Facebook are a highlight reel of your life events. It's not the real record of truth, even though the outside world may think you lead an amazing life because you spent three months traveling the world and have all these great pictures standing next to things you see in movies. No one else gets to remember all the non-picture-worthy moments except us.
When I lived alone it became easy to assume that my narration was the right one. There wasn't anyone around to tell me differently. You start to believe everything you think, which may not always be what really happened. Now that I live with someone, there is a constant second observer to the events. Granted there are many times where we both experience something and immediately disagree on what actually happened, which really causes one to question if the person they're talking to is in fact crazy. The even scary part is, what if they're not and it's you who just went through something and perceived it completely out of whack with reality? Having a partner with you is both a blessing and a curse because you're often forced to immediately look back at something that happened, but through different eyes. Does this second person change the memory that would have been formed? Are you both now remembering variations on single event? Given enough time how will you know if your version is even close to what happened?
Thursday, September 24, 2015
On Groundhog Day
One of my first real jobs in high school was working at a video store. I was the runner, which meant that I would take the newly returned movies and place them back on the shelves. I ended up having a lot of downtime while still technically being at work. One of the perks of working there was that we were able to watch movies the whole time. Well not so much watch them as exist in the same general area as they were playing. Still given a long enough timeline you were bound to see one of the movies in its entirety. It could just happen over the course of a week. Since this was a family place there were only so many movies you could really play without offending someone. One of these movies was Groundhog Day, which may be close to a perfect movie and one of the last Bill Murray movies where he was still in 'original' Murray mode, like he was in Ghostbusters and Scrooged.
This is a movie that is a bit surreal to watch in bits and pieces because you may not always know where he is at any given point since so many of the repeated scenes have only slight differences. Over the years though I've seen this movie countless times and it's one that if it comes on I'll probably be fine watching it, even if I catch it somewhere in the middle. Being the movie nerd that I am I started to really think about some of the implications of what's going on in this movie. Sure I could take the movie at face value, but that'd make for a really short post and that's now how I think so let's get started.
First off, either Phil Connors is an incredibly slow learner or the universe is mercilessly cruel. It took him several years to make it through that one day. Years to learn all the things that needed to be done right so that he'd be the kind of man that Rita would want. There has been a lot of speculation on exactly how much time passed since he started repeating the day, but a safe assumption is that it's more than ten years and likely less than fifty. Think about all the things that happen in a single day and he was somehow required to do them in a specific way. Plus he's still just a person so he may not remember what happened three and a half years ago when he tried this one thing. He had no way of knowing which combination of deeds and actions would lead him out of the maze that had become February 2nd. It was a lot of trial and error, which we saw as he kept behaving as his old self.
That brings me to the next thing. It's implied at the end that Phil has finally become a better person and saw people as being generally good if you give them a chance. He realizes that maybe Punskatanee isn't such a bad place. We assume that he's escaped the repetition that was Groundhog Day and will live the rest of his non-repeating days with Rita. This is all very wonderful for the sake of a two hour movie. What if though the next morning when he wakes up he's now trapped in February 3rd and has to go through that day over and over until he figures out how to move onto the next day. Wouldn't this be the equivalent of being trapped in Hell?
Speaking of which, if it happened to Phil, could it happen to other people? I mean are they living in a universe where bad people (or at least people who behave like jerks) are punished by having to relive a day over and over again until they become a better person? What's the criteria for this? Is it just mean weathermen or would say the African warlord, who is slaughtering children be on the list as well? Maybe it's just happening in that tiny town, but would that mean Phil is the only one to experience it, or just the first? Plus there doesn't seem to be any real rules as to what's the 'correct' way to proceed through a day. We saw at the end Phil helped a ton of people in a single day and was loved by anyone who came across him. That would mean though before the last day he saved the guy from choking and changed the tire of the old ladies. Alone those things weren't enough for him to escape, but together they added up to enough through some invisible tally system that Phil didn't know about until he woke up.
And while we're on the subject of him waking up, what's is happening to all those other realities that Phil keeps resetting? Those are people with lives and souls and with only one exception, that world seems to cease to exist once Phil kills himself. Are those worlds continuing on with all the mistakes that Phil made? Is the world where Phil stole the groundhog and drove it and himself off a cliff into a fiery explosion still going on, trying to make sense of what just happened? What are those people's lives like in the aftermath of that? It seems either several lives were traumatized for the sake of teaching one jerk a lesson on humanity or they were snuffed out once Phil died. Either one is kind of terrible. If those realities continue on, what happened to the countless ones where Phil didn't kill himself? Are they just floating out there, wondering what happened to him now that he's vanished after going to sleep?
Finally, in this world or worlds, are there any people with free will? Phil had to do everything right to progress to the next day. He was beaten down until he finally submitted to how the Universe told him that a day was supposed to happen. If this is happening to other people then it's likely that you have people who aren't like Phil, in that they learned something, but rather they finally figured out what was necessary to get to the next day or were broke to the point that they just gave in to whatever the whims of the Universe dictated at that moment. Never mind the poor souls who just couldn't get their day right, no matter how many times they tried. They're off living the same day over and over for all of eternity.
In the end Phil may have been forced to become a better person. It was a valuable lesson I'm sure. One that took him possibly decades to learn. He's now like someone who was just released from prison. He only knows the routine of Groundhog Day. How is he going to cope with living in a reality where he doesn't know exactly what's going to happen next? Plus he's mentally aged by at least ten years, maybe more. That will likely have shifted his perspective quite a lot. Granted the new and improved Phil Connors may now see the world entirely differently and be thankful for his extended time trapped in a single day. Betterment through attrition is still betterment right?
This is a movie that is a bit surreal to watch in bits and pieces because you may not always know where he is at any given point since so many of the repeated scenes have only slight differences. Over the years though I've seen this movie countless times and it's one that if it comes on I'll probably be fine watching it, even if I catch it somewhere in the middle. Being the movie nerd that I am I started to really think about some of the implications of what's going on in this movie. Sure I could take the movie at face value, but that'd make for a really short post and that's now how I think so let's get started.
First off, either Phil Connors is an incredibly slow learner or the universe is mercilessly cruel. It took him several years to make it through that one day. Years to learn all the things that needed to be done right so that he'd be the kind of man that Rita would want. There has been a lot of speculation on exactly how much time passed since he started repeating the day, but a safe assumption is that it's more than ten years and likely less than fifty. Think about all the things that happen in a single day and he was somehow required to do them in a specific way. Plus he's still just a person so he may not remember what happened three and a half years ago when he tried this one thing. He had no way of knowing which combination of deeds and actions would lead him out of the maze that had become February 2nd. It was a lot of trial and error, which we saw as he kept behaving as his old self.
That brings me to the next thing. It's implied at the end that Phil has finally become a better person and saw people as being generally good if you give them a chance. He realizes that maybe Punskatanee isn't such a bad place. We assume that he's escaped the repetition that was Groundhog Day and will live the rest of his non-repeating days with Rita. This is all very wonderful for the sake of a two hour movie. What if though the next morning when he wakes up he's now trapped in February 3rd and has to go through that day over and over until he figures out how to move onto the next day. Wouldn't this be the equivalent of being trapped in Hell?
Speaking of which, if it happened to Phil, could it happen to other people? I mean are they living in a universe where bad people (or at least people who behave like jerks) are punished by having to relive a day over and over again until they become a better person? What's the criteria for this? Is it just mean weathermen or would say the African warlord, who is slaughtering children be on the list as well? Maybe it's just happening in that tiny town, but would that mean Phil is the only one to experience it, or just the first? Plus there doesn't seem to be any real rules as to what's the 'correct' way to proceed through a day. We saw at the end Phil helped a ton of people in a single day and was loved by anyone who came across him. That would mean though before the last day he saved the guy from choking and changed the tire of the old ladies. Alone those things weren't enough for him to escape, but together they added up to enough through some invisible tally system that Phil didn't know about until he woke up.
And while we're on the subject of him waking up, what's is happening to all those other realities that Phil keeps resetting? Those are people with lives and souls and with only one exception, that world seems to cease to exist once Phil kills himself. Are those worlds continuing on with all the mistakes that Phil made? Is the world where Phil stole the groundhog and drove it and himself off a cliff into a fiery explosion still going on, trying to make sense of what just happened? What are those people's lives like in the aftermath of that? It seems either several lives were traumatized for the sake of teaching one jerk a lesson on humanity or they were snuffed out once Phil died. Either one is kind of terrible. If those realities continue on, what happened to the countless ones where Phil didn't kill himself? Are they just floating out there, wondering what happened to him now that he's vanished after going to sleep?
Finally, in this world or worlds, are there any people with free will? Phil had to do everything right to progress to the next day. He was beaten down until he finally submitted to how the Universe told him that a day was supposed to happen. If this is happening to other people then it's likely that you have people who aren't like Phil, in that they learned something, but rather they finally figured out what was necessary to get to the next day or were broke to the point that they just gave in to whatever the whims of the Universe dictated at that moment. Never mind the poor souls who just couldn't get their day right, no matter how many times they tried. They're off living the same day over and over for all of eternity.
In the end Phil may have been forced to become a better person. It was a valuable lesson I'm sure. One that took him possibly decades to learn. He's now like someone who was just released from prison. He only knows the routine of Groundhog Day. How is he going to cope with living in a reality where he doesn't know exactly what's going to happen next? Plus he's mentally aged by at least ten years, maybe more. That will likely have shifted his perspective quite a lot. Granted the new and improved Phil Connors may now see the world entirely differently and be thankful for his extended time trapped in a single day. Betterment through attrition is still betterment right?
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
On the Center of the Universe
After over a year of planning we were able to come together and make our relationship 'official'. Mostly it was a chance to have all of our friends and family around us to share in a ceremony that shows our commitment to each other and our future together. The entire time we were planning I kept thinking to myself that I didn't want to put anyone out. I didn't want to mess with their Labor Day plans. It is the last holiday of the summer and that can be important. Much more important than me. We sent out the invites and I kept asking myself if I was being too presumptuous to ask people to spend nearly three days hanging out with me. There were moments when I thought, if no one shows up I wouldn't really blame them. I mean I'm just me.
Not all that long ago I used to strive to keep my various worlds separated from each other. I'm not sure why I did that. Mostly I think it was because I wanted to separate myself. I could be this way with one person because that's how they knew me. With someone else I could be somewhat different. There was also that fear that this aspect would conflict with that aspect and it would call into question if one of them should go. This weekend all of my worlds collided with each other in a fantastic explosion. Friends and family from past and present and all over the country came to a single place at the same time. I was amazed at the people who took the time to come and spend a weekend with me. Had I somehow tricked them into making Labor Day weekend all about me?
The brothers who I grew up with as my second family. My lunatic best friend from college. The quiet man with a huge heart, who made his home my home. The one who started as a voice over the internet has become a trusted friend. Someone who is years younger than me, but astounds me with his integrity every time we speak. The most recent friend, who's joy for life constantly drives me to look at things in new and different ways. A baby brother, who has grown up to be such an amazing man that I find myself looking up to him. Having any one of these people in my life would make me a lucky man. To have all of them with me for one of the biggest events of my life makes me incredibly blessed in a way that I didn't think I deserved.
Saying 'thank you' or 'I love you' didn't seem like enough. It's not like how it is in movies when the music swells or the moment goes into slow motion so you know that it's important. Instead all the things I wanted to say in the moment kept getting drowned out by those silly emotions that kept smashing through. I only hope that my bumbling muttering somehow got the message across.
When I was little I thought the world revolved around me. Most little kids think this because they have no concept of their place in such a large place. As I got older I started to realize that I was not, in fact, the center of the universe. I was only the center of mine. Over the weekend that changed for me. The center is now someone else, with a tiny additional center coming soon to a universe near you! I never thought I'd find something more important than myself to focus on, but now that she's here, I wonder what was I thinking all this time up until now. I'm just glad everyone got to see my universe realign itself to how it was always meant to be.
Not all that long ago I used to strive to keep my various worlds separated from each other. I'm not sure why I did that. Mostly I think it was because I wanted to separate myself. I could be this way with one person because that's how they knew me. With someone else I could be somewhat different. There was also that fear that this aspect would conflict with that aspect and it would call into question if one of them should go. This weekend all of my worlds collided with each other in a fantastic explosion. Friends and family from past and present and all over the country came to a single place at the same time. I was amazed at the people who took the time to come and spend a weekend with me. Had I somehow tricked them into making Labor Day weekend all about me?
The brothers who I grew up with as my second family. My lunatic best friend from college. The quiet man with a huge heart, who made his home my home. The one who started as a voice over the internet has become a trusted friend. Someone who is years younger than me, but astounds me with his integrity every time we speak. The most recent friend, who's joy for life constantly drives me to look at things in new and different ways. A baby brother, who has grown up to be such an amazing man that I find myself looking up to him. Having any one of these people in my life would make me a lucky man. To have all of them with me for one of the biggest events of my life makes me incredibly blessed in a way that I didn't think I deserved.
Saying 'thank you' or 'I love you' didn't seem like enough. It's not like how it is in movies when the music swells or the moment goes into slow motion so you know that it's important. Instead all the things I wanted to say in the moment kept getting drowned out by those silly emotions that kept smashing through. I only hope that my bumbling muttering somehow got the message across.
When I was little I thought the world revolved around me. Most little kids think this because they have no concept of their place in such a large place. As I got older I started to realize that I was not, in fact, the center of the universe. I was only the center of mine. Over the weekend that changed for me. The center is now someone else, with a tiny additional center coming soon to a universe near you! I never thought I'd find something more important than myself to focus on, but now that she's here, I wonder what was I thinking all this time up until now. I'm just glad everyone got to see my universe realign itself to how it was always meant to be.
Thursday, August 27, 2015
On Fallen Heroes
When I was very little I loved Picture Pages. They were lots of fun with my crayons and my pencils. I also loved watching Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids. I was known to eat a pudding pop or two in my time. Now that we know what we know about the man, it makes me wonder if a large portion of my childhood has been tainted. Sure his personal life never encroached on any of the things I saw while growing up, but now I know that for all of my life I was laughing and learning with a serial rapist. That kind of revelation makes one wonder if we're looking up to the wrong people. And even worse for me is that it makes me more cynical. Now when I see someone doing something wonderful or heroic there is a small scratch of a voice in the back of my mind that asks 'What horrible secret are they hiding?' It doesn't help that we can't go very long without some famous person or hero to many making it onto the news and letting us down. A man who overcame cancer and won the Tour de France several times becoming an inspiration for millions, showing that with hard work and determination you could kick cancer in the balls. Except that we find out it was hard work, determination, and literally swapping his blood out while aggressively attacking anyone who dared question if he ever cheated.
There were plenty of people who felt some strange bit of satisfaction when that story came to light. Finally that man who seemed super human in his physical ability was brought back down to our level. It seems as though there are people who secretly want heroes to fail so that they don't feel as small compared to them, but wouldn't wanting that make them both petty and small? I see the flip side though and wonder how it affects the people who look up to these heroes. Imagine having someone you look to for inspiration turn out to be something of a monster. Does that mean you weren't smart enough to see it? Were you a fool for ever having hope in someone else? Maybe it means we're looking up to the wrong people. Or maybe we're putting too much onto a single person because in the end, they are just people. It could be that the person started out wanting to do and be good, but eventually the pressure to constantly serve as a hero to the masses meant pushing to win at any cost, including ruining other people's lives. There was a specific story that had to be maintained. You know, for the greater good. And of course money.
It could be that the person in question wasn't always a terrifying monster. They began as anyone else, with a sense of right and wrong that was mostly in tact. Then as time went on they started to believe their own hype and listened to all those people saying how great they were and how there weren't limits for a person like them. The money and the fame warping all semblance of a moral compass. I mean was the Subway guy always into exploiting children or did that come because he had the money and means to do what he wanted because no one expected him to be anything other than a hero? Being given endless amount of praise for simply being you probably messes with anyone's morals because there isn't any context for what's not acceptable. Look at that small Asian nation, lead by a fat little man who is so delusional with power that he has decided to great his own time zone. That's the epitome of corrupted by power.
We have this constant need for things to be fair. It's a concept we learn at a very young age. Share your toys. Make sure everyone gets a turn. Don't take more than your fair share. When someone does something wrong there is supposed to be justice that keeps things fair. Strangely enough though we also want that same sense of fairness for people who seem to be 'better' than us or have more than us. Never mind the circumstances that got the rich or famous person to their place in the world. I want that too. How come they get to have it and I don't? Thoughts like that lead back to that secret want. That hope that one day we'll get to watch them fall. That they deserve to be knocked down because they had so much and we didn't. Is it part of our nature to feel this way? To want to make sure that everyone is humbled enough that no one feels like they're lesser than someone else?
Then again maybe we should stop treating athletes and celebrities as though they're heroes. Sure that guy is an incredible golfer, but being good at one thing shouldn't necessarily mean that we look to them as an inspiration for life. It could by why fictional heroes are so popular right now. We need someone to look up to. Someone who won't let us down because the story won't allow it. There is very little chance we're going to find out that Han Solo was actually a child molester or that Captain America was a white supremacist. How come it's not doctors or scientists or people pushing for social improvements in quality that are being hoisted up as heroes? Maybe the real heroes are the ones who are left alone to do the actual good work and not be corrupted by the very people who look up to them.
There were plenty of people who felt some strange bit of satisfaction when that story came to light. Finally that man who seemed super human in his physical ability was brought back down to our level. It seems as though there are people who secretly want heroes to fail so that they don't feel as small compared to them, but wouldn't wanting that make them both petty and small? I see the flip side though and wonder how it affects the people who look up to these heroes. Imagine having someone you look to for inspiration turn out to be something of a monster. Does that mean you weren't smart enough to see it? Were you a fool for ever having hope in someone else? Maybe it means we're looking up to the wrong people. Or maybe we're putting too much onto a single person because in the end, they are just people. It could be that the person started out wanting to do and be good, but eventually the pressure to constantly serve as a hero to the masses meant pushing to win at any cost, including ruining other people's lives. There was a specific story that had to be maintained. You know, for the greater good. And of course money.
It could be that the person in question wasn't always a terrifying monster. They began as anyone else, with a sense of right and wrong that was mostly in tact. Then as time went on they started to believe their own hype and listened to all those people saying how great they were and how there weren't limits for a person like them. The money and the fame warping all semblance of a moral compass. I mean was the Subway guy always into exploiting children or did that come because he had the money and means to do what he wanted because no one expected him to be anything other than a hero? Being given endless amount of praise for simply being you probably messes with anyone's morals because there isn't any context for what's not acceptable. Look at that small Asian nation, lead by a fat little man who is so delusional with power that he has decided to great his own time zone. That's the epitome of corrupted by power.
We have this constant need for things to be fair. It's a concept we learn at a very young age. Share your toys. Make sure everyone gets a turn. Don't take more than your fair share. When someone does something wrong there is supposed to be justice that keeps things fair. Strangely enough though we also want that same sense of fairness for people who seem to be 'better' than us or have more than us. Never mind the circumstances that got the rich or famous person to their place in the world. I want that too. How come they get to have it and I don't? Thoughts like that lead back to that secret want. That hope that one day we'll get to watch them fall. That they deserve to be knocked down because they had so much and we didn't. Is it part of our nature to feel this way? To want to make sure that everyone is humbled enough that no one feels like they're lesser than someone else?
Then again maybe we should stop treating athletes and celebrities as though they're heroes. Sure that guy is an incredible golfer, but being good at one thing shouldn't necessarily mean that we look to them as an inspiration for life. It could by why fictional heroes are so popular right now. We need someone to look up to. Someone who won't let us down because the story won't allow it. There is very little chance we're going to find out that Han Solo was actually a child molester or that Captain America was a white supremacist. How come it's not doctors or scientists or people pushing for social improvements in quality that are being hoisted up as heroes? Maybe the real heroes are the ones who are left alone to do the actual good work and not be corrupted by the very people who look up to them.
Thursday, August 6, 2015
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