I search
through
verdant forests
rocky mountains
and glimmering lakes
swimming
feeling the cool waters
resisting my movements
listening
hearing the songbirds
and the symphonies of passion
falling
over myself
bruising knees
trying to find
something real.
"Dude, it's right there. No, you missed it."
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
False Modesty
Since when has it become cool to be poor?
Ever since rappers and the stars of music began wearing cheap clothes that the pioneers of their genre were forced to wear out of financial constraints? Ever since the hippies revolted against the establishment, raising the little guy to new heights? Since the resurrection of Puritan morals has brought forth a new respect for the working class?
Why do young people do it today? Rip holes in their jeans, wear duct tape sandals, when most of them could easily afford something better?
We've created a culture of false modesty. Show up to school wearing ratty clothes, and then if anyone says anything, reply with a look that says "How dare you judge me! Can't you see how poor I am? I obviously can't afford anything better. You should be ashamed of yourself."
Everyone hates being judged. Can anyone dare to be judgmental in today's world without suffering ostracization? And perhaps the reason we all hate being judged is because we know that none of us can pass muster against the standards we know to be true. So we shut up the voices, and mock them until they have no more social authority.
How better to do this, than to dare people to judge you? Who then has the power? Suddenly, by wearing clothing that should cost me nothing, I am immune from criticism. I can stand up to authority, and they can't do nothing to me. I am cool.
For the first time in my life, I am ashamed of being poor.
"Everyone is oppressed by the majority."
Ever since rappers and the stars of music began wearing cheap clothes that the pioneers of their genre were forced to wear out of financial constraints? Ever since the hippies revolted against the establishment, raising the little guy to new heights? Since the resurrection of Puritan morals has brought forth a new respect for the working class?
Why do young people do it today? Rip holes in their jeans, wear duct tape sandals, when most of them could easily afford something better?
We've created a culture of false modesty. Show up to school wearing ratty clothes, and then if anyone says anything, reply with a look that says "How dare you judge me! Can't you see how poor I am? I obviously can't afford anything better. You should be ashamed of yourself."
Everyone hates being judged. Can anyone dare to be judgmental in today's world without suffering ostracization? And perhaps the reason we all hate being judged is because we know that none of us can pass muster against the standards we know to be true. So we shut up the voices, and mock them until they have no more social authority.
How better to do this, than to dare people to judge you? Who then has the power? Suddenly, by wearing clothing that should cost me nothing, I am immune from criticism. I can stand up to authority, and they can't do nothing to me. I am cool.
For the first time in my life, I am ashamed of being poor.
"Everyone is oppressed by the majority."
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Making Plans
A mother
holds her son.
A child dreams
in the night.
A hero brings
freedom to a people.
A thousand years
of unwritten history
is washed away
with one
askance
glance.
"The eyes see not what is before them when the mind is intent on other matters." (Publius Syrus)
holds her son.
A child dreams
in the night.
A hero brings
freedom to a people.
A thousand years
of unwritten history
is washed away
with one
askance
glance.
"The eyes see not what is before them when the mind is intent on other matters." (Publius Syrus)
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Nerd Literature
Computer games are just like novels.
In both, an author communicates a theme to the user through controlling a series of events that the subject goes through. The difference is that in one, the user usually has the choice of how to get to the finish; or barring that, they have to use their deductive powers to figure out how to get to the end, whereas in the other, the reader simply digests what is told to them. In that sense, the author can more clearly and openly control the message sent.
Granted, I'm not sure if any positive message is sent when your character explores level after level of dead, hanging bodies dripping with blood; or when you use your armies to wipe out every race of people on the planet besides your own; or even when you pitch and bat your way to the league championship, completely crushing your competition.
The same could probably be said about books, films, and other modern forms of literature. Do I really need to mention the "time-is-short-and-life-sucks-so-lets-get-together-and-have-sex-
while-we-still-can" theme? But some forms disguise their moral of the story more than others, in effect making them more dangerous.
By no means am I saying we should censor everything. I don't trust any agency to be incorruptible enough to perform that task well; and it exercises our brains if we think for ourselves, and our brains need the exercise. Instead... at least once a day, take a step back, and ask yourself one of the most important questions that can be asked: What am I doing?
"What have you done?" (God, to Cain, after he had killed Abel)
In both, an author communicates a theme to the user through controlling a series of events that the subject goes through. The difference is that in one, the user usually has the choice of how to get to the finish; or barring that, they have to use their deductive powers to figure out how to get to the end, whereas in the other, the reader simply digests what is told to them. In that sense, the author can more clearly and openly control the message sent.
Granted, I'm not sure if any positive message is sent when your character explores level after level of dead, hanging bodies dripping with blood; or when you use your armies to wipe out every race of people on the planet besides your own; or even when you pitch and bat your way to the league championship, completely crushing your competition.
The same could probably be said about books, films, and other modern forms of literature. Do I really need to mention the "time-is-short-and-life-sucks-so-lets-get-together-and-have-sex-
while-we-still-can" theme? But some forms disguise their moral of the story more than others, in effect making them more dangerous.
By no means am I saying we should censor everything. I don't trust any agency to be incorruptible enough to perform that task well; and it exercises our brains if we think for ourselves, and our brains need the exercise. Instead... at least once a day, take a step back, and ask yourself one of the most important questions that can be asked: What am I doing?
"What have you done?" (God, to Cain, after he had killed Abel)
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Image Wars
As in, that's all the war in Iraq has become. A stupid PR war.
Think about it. Does it matter if the Marines kill thousands of terrorists between now and whenever this thing ends? Does it matter if zero soldiers die? If the US loses the propaganda war between them and the terrorists, they will have lost the war, military victories aside.
From this viewpoint, is the media traitor to its country, for presenting America as the current loser of the Iraq war? Possibly. On the other hand, if a neutral media failed to exist, then we would have to go back to the old-fashioned, World War II methods of war by attrition. At least this way, thousands of lives are saved; and in that sense, the media is patriotic.
Then again, how crazy has the world become if the largest military conflict on the planet is being fought primarily with reports and interviews? How much of it is real?
In order to help understand this war, I propose the coining of a new term: international domesticization. It refers to any event that is the result of one country projecting it's domestic strife (Donkeys vs. Elephants) onto another, usually resulting in hardship for the latter country.
Does any more really need to be said?
"The real no longer exists." (Jean Baudrillard)
Think about it. Does it matter if the Marines kill thousands of terrorists between now and whenever this thing ends? Does it matter if zero soldiers die? If the US loses the propaganda war between them and the terrorists, they will have lost the war, military victories aside.
From this viewpoint, is the media traitor to its country, for presenting America as the current loser of the Iraq war? Possibly. On the other hand, if a neutral media failed to exist, then we would have to go back to the old-fashioned, World War II methods of war by attrition. At least this way, thousands of lives are saved; and in that sense, the media is patriotic.
Then again, how crazy has the world become if the largest military conflict on the planet is being fought primarily with reports and interviews? How much of it is real?
In order to help understand this war, I propose the coining of a new term: international domesticization. It refers to any event that is the result of one country projecting it's domestic strife (Donkeys vs. Elephants) onto another, usually resulting in hardship for the latter country.
Does any more really need to be said?
"The real no longer exists." (Jean Baudrillard)
Saturday, April 14, 2007
A Critique of Language
Words are so limited. Each noun, adjective, or verb is a label for one or a handful of points in the three-dimensional space of reality. Each one comes with a connotation that is customized based on where you are and what you've experienced; but each remains relatively similar within each language and dialect.
Describing a horse and a cow is relatively easy--less so with an imaginary half-cow, half-horse creature. Every single person that reads this will come up with an entirely different image.
Thus, the adjective: a word that makes another word more specific. A 35% horse, 65% cow creature? A swift, sleek, ruddy, unbridled, defensive horse-cow? The picture is both more and less clear: because every word is a point, a zone, a region of vocabulary space. And just like number lines and cartesian grids, if it were possible to define every single point, then non-real numbers wouldn't exist. Yet, if it isn't possible to define everything completely, then the definition system is limited.
And these limits matter because reality doesn't fit neatly into the little defining points. Two people may commit murder, and one will be horrific and the other justified. We categorize and shuffle further, but are any second-degree murders really the same?
Can every thought be put into words? By translating the inner workings of our minds into language, they become communicable to others; and more understandable to ourselves. We understand labels, because they are concrete, definite. But it is that very trait that makes them unrealistic--because life is abstract and doesn't fit neatly into a box.
Our very thoughts are often inexpressible; they just are. They surround us, environmentalize us, are us. Putting them into words takes away the wonder and awe; it is only a mere representation that exists in language, an estimation of what was reality--for once the decimal places are rounded off, they are lost forever.
Such it is with all the arts. Literature attempts to express the greatest truths of reality in the leaves of a book; and we find them there, but do we really experience them? Music also tries to speak those same truths, but that language, too, is limited; for who can say what note lies a few cents sharper than a C? Or what brilliant chords and harmonies are possible in the region between G and G-sharp? Artists try to capture moments on canvas; and they do so, brilliantly. But what is a moment in the realm of eternity? Can a moment express an experience? Movies try to duplicate reality on the silver screen, overwhelming our minds by speaking to our ears and eyes at once; but even if scents could emanate from the pictures, they would still fall short of that great standard of our experiences.
Such it is with experience: so long studied, so often duplicated and substituted; so little understood. How much we owe language, for allowing the progress, understanding, and wisdom that exists today; and how much language limits us from truly expressing the infinite!
"No bird has ever uttered note
That was not in some first bird's throat."
(Thomas Bailey Aldrich)
Describing a horse and a cow is relatively easy--less so with an imaginary half-cow, half-horse creature. Every single person that reads this will come up with an entirely different image.
Thus, the adjective: a word that makes another word more specific. A 35% horse, 65% cow creature? A swift, sleek, ruddy, unbridled, defensive horse-cow? The picture is both more and less clear: because every word is a point, a zone, a region of vocabulary space. And just like number lines and cartesian grids, if it were possible to define every single point, then non-real numbers wouldn't exist. Yet, if it isn't possible to define everything completely, then the definition system is limited.
And these limits matter because reality doesn't fit neatly into the little defining points. Two people may commit murder, and one will be horrific and the other justified. We categorize and shuffle further, but are any second-degree murders really the same?
Can every thought be put into words? By translating the inner workings of our minds into language, they become communicable to others; and more understandable to ourselves. We understand labels, because they are concrete, definite. But it is that very trait that makes them unrealistic--because life is abstract and doesn't fit neatly into a box.
Our very thoughts are often inexpressible; they just are. They surround us, environmentalize us, are us. Putting them into words takes away the wonder and awe; it is only a mere representation that exists in language, an estimation of what was reality--for once the decimal places are rounded off, they are lost forever.
Such it is with all the arts. Literature attempts to express the greatest truths of reality in the leaves of a book; and we find them there, but do we really experience them? Music also tries to speak those same truths, but that language, too, is limited; for who can say what note lies a few cents sharper than a C? Or what brilliant chords and harmonies are possible in the region between G and G-sharp? Artists try to capture moments on canvas; and they do so, brilliantly. But what is a moment in the realm of eternity? Can a moment express an experience? Movies try to duplicate reality on the silver screen, overwhelming our minds by speaking to our ears and eyes at once; but even if scents could emanate from the pictures, they would still fall short of that great standard of our experiences.
Such it is with experience: so long studied, so often duplicated and substituted; so little understood. How much we owe language, for allowing the progress, understanding, and wisdom that exists today; and how much language limits us from truly expressing the infinite!
"No bird has ever uttered note
That was not in some first bird's throat."
(Thomas Bailey Aldrich)
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Warm Thoughts
Conspiracy theories are fun. Not generally believable--see Fox, "Did we really go to the moon?"--but usually fun. So here's my contribution to the greatest of the Liberal arts.
Who Caused Global Warming?
I mean, obviously, it's western society. But why would the west destroy their own planet?
Imagine, back in the 50s, right when the Earth's warming started to accelerate and become noticable. India had just declared independence; Africa would do so in a decade. The developing world was starting to notice how badly the West had abused them, by taking all their resources, often for a cent on the dollar, if even that; taking their people; purposely impoverishing their economy (if you doubt me, look up mercantilism); and causing the younger generation to become poorly educated (what good is a western education going to do for a farmer in Zimbabwe? He'd be better off learning about farming). The oppressed peoples were starting to come to their senses, and beginning to revolt; so the west gave them their freedom in order to pacify them again.
But the western nations knew that independence wouldn't pacify the third world for long. So they developed a plan. They began to pump carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases into the atmosphere in an attempt to raise the world's temperature. This had two benefits: First, all of the western countries were in the temperate zone: a raised temperature simply meant no winter, something that nearly all citizens were willing to sign on to. Second, the developing world would get baked. It was thought that by raising the temperature of equatorial nations, it would make the people more lazy and less willing to revenge their wrongs. Plus, once the temperature got hot enough, they'd all bake to death anyways, permanently ending the retribution threat.
It was brilliant, the leaders agreed. Of all the developed world, only Australia had a small complaint, as it was nearest to the equator. Australia, however, agreed to make the sacrifice, as most of its population already lived in the south; in exchange for always having a positive reputation in the media.
"In great art chance and fancy are gone; what is there is there of necessity." (Goethe)
Who Caused Global Warming?
I mean, obviously, it's western society. But why would the west destroy their own planet?
Imagine, back in the 50s, right when the Earth's warming started to accelerate and become noticable. India had just declared independence; Africa would do so in a decade. The developing world was starting to notice how badly the West had abused them, by taking all their resources, often for a cent on the dollar, if even that; taking their people; purposely impoverishing their economy (if you doubt me, look up mercantilism); and causing the younger generation to become poorly educated (what good is a western education going to do for a farmer in Zimbabwe? He'd be better off learning about farming). The oppressed peoples were starting to come to their senses, and beginning to revolt; so the west gave them their freedom in order to pacify them again.
But the western nations knew that independence wouldn't pacify the third world for long. So they developed a plan. They began to pump carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases into the atmosphere in an attempt to raise the world's temperature. This had two benefits: First, all of the western countries were in the temperate zone: a raised temperature simply meant no winter, something that nearly all citizens were willing to sign on to. Second, the developing world would get baked. It was thought that by raising the temperature of equatorial nations, it would make the people more lazy and less willing to revenge their wrongs. Plus, once the temperature got hot enough, they'd all bake to death anyways, permanently ending the retribution threat.
It was brilliant, the leaders agreed. Of all the developed world, only Australia had a small complaint, as it was nearest to the equator. Australia, however, agreed to make the sacrifice, as most of its population already lived in the south; in exchange for always having a positive reputation in the media.
"In great art chance and fancy are gone; what is there is there of necessity." (Goethe)
Monday, April 9, 2007
Squirrels
I was walking to the dorm today, coming out of chapel. Groups of people were walking in a long line to the cafeteria, about five to ten paces apart. Suddenly, I heard a branch crack, and saw some pine needles fall from the nearby tree, followed by... a squirrel, which quickly darted back up the tree.
The guy in front of me turned and looked at me and said, "Did you just see that?" My only response was a slack jaw, and a nod of the head.
I could take this story and philosophize about how chance encounters affect socialization, or possibly pass on the jokes my roommate made about "acorn moonshine," but this time, I'll leave the thinking to you.
"If you were a drug, I'd overdose." (Dallas Reedy)
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Dimensional Thoughts
Does God experience time?
Or does he experience the entire fourth dimension in one grand sweep, the way we are capable of experiencing three dimensions at once?
If this were so, then it would be obvious why God is able to know the future: because He is already there, at precisely the same time that He is telling us about it. The famous "a thousand years is like one day, and one day like a thousand years" would then be literally true.
In that case, how does He decide? A decision, after all, is tied to time; it involves a before and after. If He decides to do something, does the eternity thereafter get erased as fast as a snap of the fingers, and a new one written down even faster? Is He an artist constructing a novel, a plot line that leads to the greatest joy for His people?
And if God experiences everything at once, then what is the present? Can there be multiple presents? Maybe my great-grandparents are alive right now, experiencing a present that is 80 years prior to mine. Maybe Adam and Eve did die the day they ate the fruit.
Time-travel would be possible as soon as scientists figure out how to jump from one present to another. Of course, since this whole God-is-outside-of-time thing presumes God exists, then we'd have to consider whether He'd want time-travel to happen: we wouldn't want sin spreading to all eternity, would we?
If time is the fourth dimension, what is the fifth? Some crazy fantasy novel I read once said it was dreams. (Foolish writer.) Would God be bound to the fifth dimension the same way we are bound to experience time, moment by moment? But then this presumes that God is bound by the laws of nature, and we know that isn't the case. Perhaps it is the sixth dimension that binds Him?
Decisions require a dimension to take place in. Can I say that God must either be bound by a dimension, or must not be able to make decisions?
Perhaps this dimensional stuff is foolishness, and that time and space really aren't all that related. Perhaps they're just human constructs for the world we find around us, that attempt to explain what we find, but are not actually what we find.
The oceans of mystery beyond the island of human knowledge are vast and deep indeed.
"Who am I, that I should go before Pharoah?" (Moses)
Or does he experience the entire fourth dimension in one grand sweep, the way we are capable of experiencing three dimensions at once?
If this were so, then it would be obvious why God is able to know the future: because He is already there, at precisely the same time that He is telling us about it. The famous "a thousand years is like one day, and one day like a thousand years" would then be literally true.
In that case, how does He decide? A decision, after all, is tied to time; it involves a before and after. If He decides to do something, does the eternity thereafter get erased as fast as a snap of the fingers, and a new one written down even faster? Is He an artist constructing a novel, a plot line that leads to the greatest joy for His people?
And if God experiences everything at once, then what is the present? Can there be multiple presents? Maybe my great-grandparents are alive right now, experiencing a present that is 80 years prior to mine. Maybe Adam and Eve did die the day they ate the fruit.
Time-travel would be possible as soon as scientists figure out how to jump from one present to another. Of course, since this whole God-is-outside-of-time thing presumes God exists, then we'd have to consider whether He'd want time-travel to happen: we wouldn't want sin spreading to all eternity, would we?
If time is the fourth dimension, what is the fifth? Some crazy fantasy novel I read once said it was dreams. (Foolish writer.) Would God be bound to the fifth dimension the same way we are bound to experience time, moment by moment? But then this presumes that God is bound by the laws of nature, and we know that isn't the case. Perhaps it is the sixth dimension that binds Him?
Decisions require a dimension to take place in. Can I say that God must either be bound by a dimension, or must not be able to make decisions?
Perhaps this dimensional stuff is foolishness, and that time and space really aren't all that related. Perhaps they're just human constructs for the world we find around us, that attempt to explain what we find, but are not actually what we find.
The oceans of mystery beyond the island of human knowledge are vast and deep indeed.
"Who am I, that I should go before Pharoah?" (Moses)
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Sudden Realizations
You know what the most amazing feeling is? Suddenly realizing something. It's absolutely wonderful; I know of few better highs. (I think I'm addicted.)
Working over a calculus problem for an hour, then suddenly understanding how to do it. Living in a foreign country for a year, and suddenly understanding the conversation around you. Reading a book, and suddenly having life make sense.
I've figured out that you know a pleasure is from God if it has a good aftertaste; and it's from Satan when the main pleasure is in the anticipation--after it happens, it sucks. With realizations, there's no bad aftertaste: it just gives you a glow, all day long. Therefore, this pursuit is a godly one.
Maybe I'm using this as an argument to justify my endless pursuit of education and knowledge. Too much of a good thing really isn't good for you, because God is a God of Balance. But this whole learning thing just never wears off. I'm seriously addicted; and I'm not even going to bother trying to break the habit.
Take today for example. I was walking down the sidewalk to class, when the thought just struck me: I'm a music major. I'm in college, and my main assignments every day are to play music and listen to it. How awesome is that?
Now, if only I can remember this a week from now...
"Life itself educates." (Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi)
Working over a calculus problem for an hour, then suddenly understanding how to do it. Living in a foreign country for a year, and suddenly understanding the conversation around you. Reading a book, and suddenly having life make sense.
I've figured out that you know a pleasure is from God if it has a good aftertaste; and it's from Satan when the main pleasure is in the anticipation--after it happens, it sucks. With realizations, there's no bad aftertaste: it just gives you a glow, all day long. Therefore, this pursuit is a godly one.
Maybe I'm using this as an argument to justify my endless pursuit of education and knowledge. Too much of a good thing really isn't good for you, because God is a God of Balance. But this whole learning thing just never wears off. I'm seriously addicted; and I'm not even going to bother trying to break the habit.
Take today for example. I was walking down the sidewalk to class, when the thought just struck me: I'm a music major. I'm in college, and my main assignments every day are to play music and listen to it. How awesome is that?
Now, if only I can remember this a week from now...
"Life itself educates." (Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi)
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Human Efficiency
So I'm walking out of another disastrous piano lesson today, and I get told that I need to practice 2 hours a day if I ever want to pass that conservatory exam. Later, I'm in the music office when I run into the orchestra director, who asks me to give him tempos for the concerti I'm playing with the orchestra in a few weeks (I haven't started to look at the music yet). Not to mention that I'm taking 16 college credits at the moment, many of which aren't that easy. Or that I'm working two jobs.
It's not like the time doesn't exist for all of this--it does. Technically speaking, there are 16 hours in a day in which I am awake; 17 if I push it. 2 hours is nothing compared to that. So why do I have so much problems even finding one hour for practice?
Humans are so inefficient. Might be the most inefficient machine God made. You get one of them to deliver a letter to another office on campus, a good five-minute walk at the most, and they return an hour later. Why?
The obvious answer is that we need rest. We can't work non-stop, then go to sleep, and expect to survive very long, can we? Of course not. But how is it that I find playing piano on my own time a restful hobby, a leisurely activity; and that I find practicing piano so inordinately tiring, when they're exactly the same thing?!
It's got to be psychological. Somehow tricking the brain to believe that going to class is a leisurely activity you're doing for fun somehow makes the whole day easier, and the whole life less stressful. That said, has anyone here managed that? I don't think so!
Surely this whole inefficiency thing is some devilish plot to ruin humanity. Figures. It's just like that famous painting of the devil playing chess against some poor old fellow, beating him in every way possible. It's like chess against a master in that you're always one (or two, or three) moves behind the other player; you spend the entire game discovering the other person's plans well after they've been put into effect.
I can at least take comfort that, in the previously mentioned picture, a chess master looked at the board and managed to beat the devil.
"The Devil finds work for idle hands." (St. Jerome)
It's not like the time doesn't exist for all of this--it does. Technically speaking, there are 16 hours in a day in which I am awake; 17 if I push it. 2 hours is nothing compared to that. So why do I have so much problems even finding one hour for practice?
Humans are so inefficient. Might be the most inefficient machine God made. You get one of them to deliver a letter to another office on campus, a good five-minute walk at the most, and they return an hour later. Why?
The obvious answer is that we need rest. We can't work non-stop, then go to sleep, and expect to survive very long, can we? Of course not. But how is it that I find playing piano on my own time a restful hobby, a leisurely activity; and that I find practicing piano so inordinately tiring, when they're exactly the same thing?!
It's got to be psychological. Somehow tricking the brain to believe that going to class is a leisurely activity you're doing for fun somehow makes the whole day easier, and the whole life less stressful. That said, has anyone here managed that? I don't think so!
Surely this whole inefficiency thing is some devilish plot to ruin humanity. Figures. It's just like that famous painting of the devil playing chess against some poor old fellow, beating him in every way possible. It's like chess against a master in that you're always one (or two, or three) moves behind the other player; you spend the entire game discovering the other person's plans well after they've been put into effect.
I can at least take comfort that, in the previously mentioned picture, a chess master looked at the board and managed to beat the devil.
"The Devil finds work for idle hands." (St. Jerome)
Sunday, April 1, 2007
The Future Of Reality TV
[rock music blares]
[engines roar]
Bass Voice: "Street Racing: Monster Truck Edition!"
I can just imagine the commentators on this one. "The number one car is in the lead, with 12 crushed cars; but the number four car isn't far behind, and he has an impressive 25 vehicular homicides to his credit already!"
'Oh, but they would never allow the filming of intentional murders for drama purposes, would they? The police would stop it for sure.' Such is something a naive person might ask. It wouldn't be hard for the producers to find some way to absolve themselves of guilt. "We didn't know he was going to kill people. (We just gave him a truck way too big for the road, put him on a high traffic street, and said whoever makes it to the end first wins a million dollars.)
"And no, the people watching aren't doing it to see people die; they're there for the 'thrills of competition.' (But you just can't get enough of those shots where the people breathe their last. You don't see death often enough. If you tune out for a few episodes, you might forget what it looks like.)"
It is going to happen. Just trust me on this one.
"Violence, whether spiritual or physical, is a quest for identity and the meaningful. The less identity, the more violence." (Marshall McLuhan)
[engines roar]
Bass Voice: "Street Racing: Monster Truck Edition!"
I can just imagine the commentators on this one. "The number one car is in the lead, with 12 crushed cars; but the number four car isn't far behind, and he has an impressive 25 vehicular homicides to his credit already!"
'Oh, but they would never allow the filming of intentional murders for drama purposes, would they? The police would stop it for sure.' Such is something a naive person might ask. It wouldn't be hard for the producers to find some way to absolve themselves of guilt. "We didn't know he was going to kill people. (We just gave him a truck way too big for the road, put him on a high traffic street, and said whoever makes it to the end first wins a million dollars.)
"And no, the people watching aren't doing it to see people die; they're there for the 'thrills of competition.' (But you just can't get enough of those shots where the people breathe their last. You don't see death often enough. If you tune out for a few episodes, you might forget what it looks like.)"
It is going to happen. Just trust me on this one.
"Violence, whether spiritual or physical, is a quest for identity and the meaningful. The less identity, the more violence." (Marshall McLuhan)
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