A list of bad movie taglines, or really awful inspirational sayings. I've done my best to be original and cringe-inducing. However, if any of these mimic actual taglines, it's a case of cryptomnesia.
-Tomorrow begins, today. (Or, really, any variation on the past, present and future all colliding at once. Yesterday begets tomorrow. Tomorrow's yesterday is today. Forever started yesterday. Tomorrow remembers the past. Today, we find tomorrow. Today, we remember yesterday. Yesterday's dream is tomorrow's nightmare.)
-Fight the good fight. (Or any variation on X the good X. Eat the good eat. Sex the good sex. Break the good break. Drink the good drink. I feel like a warped five-year old. Do the good do. Believe the good belief.)
-The battle starts now.
-Give thanks. (Or any tie-in to a major holiday. Fall in love all over again. Celebrate Xmas/Kwanzaa/Hanukkah. The movie rises on Easter day. Bring in the new year. Discover Columbus' new world. Call off work on Labor Day.)
-The countdown begins on 10/09/08... (Or anything that "cleverly" references the date. Remember, remember the fifth of November [and I wouldn't be surprised if that was an actual tagline for V for Vendetta]. The anti-Christ is born on 06/06/06. Get baked on 04/20. Believe in the new millennium on 01/01/01. Get primed on 02/03/05. The thousandth is revealed on 09/09/09.)
-Who is the Candlestick Maker? (Or any question purportedly answered by watching the movie. What is drama? Where is Paradise? Why can't we all just get along? When is the salvation? How badly did you want to watch this movie?)
***
I recently wrote a physical letter for a care package. That is not so unusual. People generally include some form of correspondence with the items therein, so as to nourish the recipient's soul as well as their body.
What took me aback was how much I liked the act of (legibly) writing a letter. Most of my correspondence includes a keyboard as the writing tool. When I do write long hand, it is either in my journal, or for a first draft of a story. Very rarely do I find myself in a position to write to another individual. It felt sort of right.
Don't get me wrong. I do appreciate the convenience and immediacy email affords us. However, I think that we sacrifice a certain amount of intimacy for the alacrity. And I do not refer to bawdiness. Heaven knows so many have been brought down by lewd emails and texts. No, I refer to the fact that you are given something tangible, that sort of intimacy.
Think of the last time you received a note or letter, something handwritten. You had the paper itself, something to hold. You had their handwriting, unique and part of them. The imperfections that come with a handwritten note, maybe an erasure or two, a strike out, misspelled words.
Yeah, Luddism forever.
That sentiment makes the following more understandable, but not any more timely. I want a pen pal. Not a complete stranger, mind you, but someone I already know, and want to converse with in extended fashion. Yes, by modern standards, this is quite insane.
Realistically, there aren't many people I talk to to begin with, and most of them, I already have regular communication with them in some form. Besides, how do you explain this to someone? "Yeah, I know I could email you or text you or call you, but can I start writing you letters?" People already consider me a bit off, but even I consider this off-the-wall, even for me.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
High Hurdles
I dreamt last night. Well, that's deceptive. I dream every night. Last night, however, I remembered my dream.
I was in a race, probably one hundred and ten meter hurdles. I have never run the hurdles in my life, too short for them. I'd have to plant my hand on the hurdles and kick myself over, or do a slide beneath them and run a penalty, not to mention killing my hips against the track. Still, it was a race, and I was the only participant.
The first hurdle was your traditional hurdle, and I made it over just fine, slowing down only to make it over. The next one was higher, maybe at chest level, and this one I really did have to plant my hands on it and kick myself over. The third was probably around neck level, and this one I actually had to hoist myself up.
Each hurdle rose higher and higher. Soon they were multi level affairs and took longer and longer to get up, but I eventually hurdled each of them. Then the tenth and final hurdle. It was on a campus-like setting, the hurdle was a building that had been constructed around a tree, it rose several stories high, and the finish line was on top of that building. People were milling around the ground, and everyone was waiting for me to go up.
Didn't even hesitate. I started climbing.
It was pretty damned rough, I'm not a climber, and there weren't many hand holds. The higher I went, the harder it was to find purchase against the building or tree. About halfway up, I wrapped my arm around a branch loop and hung there, trying to figure out where my next handhold was. I had a few stories to go, but there was no way to go. And then, it started raining. Not a light drizzle, it was a serious downpour.
I could feel my arm slipping, losing my grip, and I had to cry down to the fire department waiting below for help, because I wasn't going to survive much longer. It felt so awful, I started crying out, because I'd come so close, and I couldn't go any further. That was when I woke up screaming.
Despite all that, I find some solace in this dream. Yeah, it was kind of crappy, and it would seem to imply that I feel like events in my life outside my control are keeping me from succeeding, but that's the wrong message to take from it (although that is a message, and I need to think about that).
First, I ran the race, even though I've never done hurdles, even though it was getting ridiculous in terms of height, and only gave in when death was imminent. I'm trying my best.
Second, I didn't hesitate at any point, except when I couldn't find a handhold on the last hurdle. I just dived right in and kept on going.
Third, and perhaps most important, I remembered this dream. I haven't remembered many dreams over the past few months, due to the insomnia, but this one I recalled right after I woke up, after my eighth hour of sleep that night. Were they all consecutive? No, but I was able to get eight hours of sleep over eleven hours. This definitely beats two hours of sleep a night. Is everything in my life resolved? No, I've hit that point where nothing will ever be resolved, but I think I've finally found a bit of peace in my life. Work is not as ridiculous as it once was. Well, it is, but I've learned that it's not as important, and I shouldn't obsess. If things work out at work, they work out. If not, I fix the mistake, pick up, move on.
I was in a race, probably one hundred and ten meter hurdles. I have never run the hurdles in my life, too short for them. I'd have to plant my hand on the hurdles and kick myself over, or do a slide beneath them and run a penalty, not to mention killing my hips against the track. Still, it was a race, and I was the only participant.
The first hurdle was your traditional hurdle, and I made it over just fine, slowing down only to make it over. The next one was higher, maybe at chest level, and this one I really did have to plant my hands on it and kick myself over. The third was probably around neck level, and this one I actually had to hoist myself up.
Each hurdle rose higher and higher. Soon they were multi level affairs and took longer and longer to get up, but I eventually hurdled each of them. Then the tenth and final hurdle. It was on a campus-like setting, the hurdle was a building that had been constructed around a tree, it rose several stories high, and the finish line was on top of that building. People were milling around the ground, and everyone was waiting for me to go up.
Didn't even hesitate. I started climbing.
It was pretty damned rough, I'm not a climber, and there weren't many hand holds. The higher I went, the harder it was to find purchase against the building or tree. About halfway up, I wrapped my arm around a branch loop and hung there, trying to figure out where my next handhold was. I had a few stories to go, but there was no way to go. And then, it started raining. Not a light drizzle, it was a serious downpour.
I could feel my arm slipping, losing my grip, and I had to cry down to the fire department waiting below for help, because I wasn't going to survive much longer. It felt so awful, I started crying out, because I'd come so close, and I couldn't go any further. That was when I woke up screaming.
Despite all that, I find some solace in this dream. Yeah, it was kind of crappy, and it would seem to imply that I feel like events in my life outside my control are keeping me from succeeding, but that's the wrong message to take from it (although that is a message, and I need to think about that).
First, I ran the race, even though I've never done hurdles, even though it was getting ridiculous in terms of height, and only gave in when death was imminent. I'm trying my best.
Second, I didn't hesitate at any point, except when I couldn't find a handhold on the last hurdle. I just dived right in and kept on going.
Third, and perhaps most important, I remembered this dream. I haven't remembered many dreams over the past few months, due to the insomnia, but this one I recalled right after I woke up, after my eighth hour of sleep that night. Were they all consecutive? No, but I was able to get eight hours of sleep over eleven hours. This definitely beats two hours of sleep a night. Is everything in my life resolved? No, I've hit that point where nothing will ever be resolved, but I think I've finally found a bit of peace in my life. Work is not as ridiculous as it once was. Well, it is, but I've learned that it's not as important, and I shouldn't obsess. If things work out at work, they work out. If not, I fix the mistake, pick up, move on.
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