A Response For Class

Can there be a sadness greater than the one caused by disillusionment? Jacob Brackman discusses his transition from blind optimism of youth to reluctant cynicism of age in his "Shock Waves from the Baby Boom" article. While this sadness is startling, it is hardly unusual; actually, this discontent with life, culture, and surrounds is ubiquitous throughout modern American youth, although the majority of it is unnoticed. We have been given technology to make our lives better and easier, and it does just that; however, in doing so, technology has reduced the quality of human interactions from necessity to peripheral and drained the aspirations of the young.

My close friend moved to Austin over Christmas break. Over time, we have texted, skyped, and communicated through various other media avenues. We talk about whatever we think about, whatever comes into our minds. And although we are in constant communication, I know the next time we see each other, the first few hours will be awkward. We communicate with the help of technology, but we really don't have anything to say. This situation is common throughout young people today. Friends are friends because people don't want to be alone, so we surround ourselves with those around us and fill the empty spaces with words about pop culture and news that becomes irrelevant at the week's end. We don't have anything to say to each other anymore, but we talk more than ever.

I've met more people at college who have no idea what they are going to do with their lives. Moreover, I've talked to people who don't even have a dream job. People are caught up in the daily, repetitive, mundane exercise of existence that the ability to create your future is forgotten, and this is due to technology. We are so inundated with the capacity to create that we get bogged down in trivial creations, and we neglect to imagine an existence that is rich and full and vibrant. We become consuming nonexistence, which is different than the ideology of Buddhism that states that we are only a composition of other things. We don't exist, yet we are obsessed with ourselves.

So what can we do? How can live? The greatest action we can take against the foreboding and ominous future is to unplug. Unplug. Leave at home. Go for a walk in the park. Write a letter to a friend. Sit and watch cars drive by. Play music live. Essentially, do things that require one to merely exist (an act that has come to be seen as trivial). Just exist. Technology has allowed to be be in one hundred places at once, and in doing so, making us not really present anywhere. So just be. And learn that life is better when experienced through the wind, not the airwaves.

Things I am thankful for

1. Having Bruce Springstein's "Born To Run," so that I can access the escape in his songs whenever needed.
2. The ability to wash my clothes for free whenever I decide it's convenient.
3. An Uncle who I can listen to talk about God and feel no disgust about the Christian language used.
4. My sunglasses that I think are the coolest thing since James Dean.
5. The fact that emotions are temporary, seasonal, that they go so, so, so far down, but always find their way up the mountain also.
6. People who I think validate my existence with their approval of me.
7. The ability to walk barefoot to class.
8. A sweater that covers up my pit sweat and keeps me feeling swanky.
9. Friends who want to be around me.
10. Annie, the lady who makes me an omlet every morning.
11. A computer on which I can watch tv shows and movies at my convenience.
I tried making a list of things I'm thankful for in an attempt to forget my sadness, but it didn't work. I'm just going to go watch T.V. instead, to numb the pain away.

I didn't watch T.V. I experienced the pain, tried to understand it, thought about it. Maybe that's the way to beat it.

An Unceasing Wound

The unintentional, unnoticed rejection of loved ones is a heart-breaking affair. I get this way sometimes. I get so fucking lonely. And so fucking sad. Why the fuck am I this way? I have so much. I'm so ungrateful. And yet, I whine about not feeling good, yet I neglect to reflect on the times when life is wonderful. I wallow in the sadness, refusing to pull myself up. Everyone feels sadness. I have it great.

Is that enough self degradation so that I can now not feel guilty about feeling this way? Hope so. Because for now, all I can see is myself when I feel like this.

I'm so alone. I reach out to people, but somehow, I always break or break something. It's this sinking feeling in my chest, like its about to cave in on itself. It's pressure behind my eyes, they're about to cry, but can't seem to do it. It an invisible weight on my head, pushing it down. I'm feeling the intense pressure of my body and soul being compacted in on itself, where the pain snaps my head to the side and cranks my eyes tightly shut. This feeling is the absence of the feeling of love, of belonging, of importance. This feeling is the intense void that crushes me.

Don't you dare condescend. Don't you dare belittle my feelings. I can't take it anymore. I understand people have it worse than me, but I'm fucking tired of sucking it up in the name of those less fortunate. I'm fucking selfish, you say. Okay, well fuck me, cuz I can deal with that. I can't deal with not being real anymore. I'm hurting. I hurt sometimes. It's been less frequent lately, but tonight shows me that time doesn't heal all wounds. This wound is as fresh now as it was in October. It's worse, because I was under the false impression that it wouldn't hurt this badly anymore. But it hurts because I was mistaken. I assumed that I felt lonely only because this one person I loved rejected me. But now I know I feel lonely when anyone I love rejects me.

I just discovered that the language through which I give and receive love is verbal communication. That's when it's real to me. When the people I want to love me tell me they love me, I can think of no greater source of happiness for myself. But right now, I feel so alone because I can't remember the last time someone said they loved me and I believed them. It has to be verbal-text message or letter or email won't do. I have to audibly hear the other person speaking those words, I have to visually see them with my eyes. My "love language" is the spoken word.

Hindusim and Red Scare

Hinduism claims that there is an entity that exists in all things, through all things, and because all things. This entity, called Brahman, is the connection that runs through everything. It is inside you, inside me, inside that car, that deer, that tree, that moon- inside everything. This theory is found in Christianity as well, although most Christians would deny this, seeing as though the idea is found in Hinduism and Christians in the 21st century are especially afraid of hearing about other religious, lest they find something that sounds like truth.

In Christianity, there is believed to be one god. He is described as omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent. If a being is capable of knowing everything, doing anything, and being everywhere, does that not mean that he/she/it is in everything? It would have to, if the entity is everywhere. You cannot be everywhere and yet not be in something that occupies space. Therefore, it is logical to say that the Christian god is in everything. He is in you, in me, in that car, that deer, that tree, that moon- in everything.

Hinduism describes Brahman as humanity's link to everything. It says that we are connected to everything in such a way because what is inside us is inside everything else as well. This gives us a certain responsibility, it would seem to me, to treat not only humans but everything with reverence and respect.

However, Americans during the 40s, 50s, and 60s didn't share this believe. During that time, the Soviet Union was a major world power, and America thought its liberties were in jeopardy. Therefore, the government decided that the collective conscious of the nation should be that of cultivated fear. Government institutions started instilling terror in the hearts of the people at the expense of communism, claiming it as the worst evil of all, and any sympathizers were a threat to America and should be ostracized. Myriad campaigns of patriotism sprung up. President Truman favored the word "freedom" in his speeches. American citizens were taught that freedom was the greatest asset and should be protected religiously.

Strangely, America made severe missteps while on the march to end Communism. Firstly, America claimed that anyone who was on its side was not a threat to freedom, basically saying that if you're with us, your right. Also, America overlooked its own racism, an obvious obstruction of freedom to millions of Americans. America was so focused on ending Communism that it neglected to consider how it was inflicting pain upon itself with segregation and injustice. America refused to see the humanity in Communists. It refused to see the strain of life that runs through all humanity. Instead, it chose to protect itself at all costs, costs that included the life and well being of millions of people.

Obviously, the Red Scare was ridiculous. Widespread panic was commonplace, and it was propagated by the government, which somehow makes it legitimate. Today, we must look to the humanity in everyone. Otherwise, peace and life and love cannot be accomplished.

Terrible Essay

What would you do if you were trapped, out in nature, all alone? Why would you be out there by yourself anyway? In two films, "Into the Wild" and "127 Hours," two men explore the wilderness with reckless abandon, and only one makes it out alive.

In the two films, the main characters retreat into nature because they feel most alive there. In "Into the Wild," Christopher McCandless (played by Emile Hirsch) talks about how he can no longer take living in society and can only feel alive in the wild. In "127 Hours," Aron Rolston (played by James Franco) thrives on being in nature, and it is apparent that he is a tad loco and doesn't fit well in civilization. These movies (whose stories are true) show men who find solace and pure existence in the dangerous and isolated wild, away from people and technology and city blocks.

However, both men get into trouble. McCandless (who later changes his name to Alexander Supertramp) travels deep into the Alaskan bush alone and eats a poisonous plant by mistake, and Rolston pulls a large boulder onto his hand, trapping him in a deep crevasse. The two are faced with impossible situations--if you want to live, you have to be willing to die. McCandless couldn't make it across the raging river to get help, and Rolston has to decide if he can endure the pain of cutting his own arm off. Both films make me wonder what I would do if I were in those situations. Would I have enough will power to do what is necessary to live? Would I value life enough to cut my arm off?

In the end, McCandless dies from starvation in the bus that he inhabited for four months. However, Rolston succeeds in cutting his arm off and staggering to freedom. Two men, both encountering nature in order to find vibrant existence, meet opposite fates, and share lessons to us that should always be considered when going into the wild.

Rothko

Rothko stated that the objective for his art was to draw people out of the mundane daily life and to make them feel the deep, intrinsic emotions that make us human. As one approaching Rothko's abstract art, I find this description helpful in interpreting and understanding his paintings. At first glance, an ignorant eye might see his work and think it bland or simple. Their are no people or distinguishable objects, merely lines, shades, and colors. However, understanding that his art is for the emotions, not the mind, allows one to experience the fullness of his work.

In life, the majority of people find themselves unknowingly trapped in the rut of status quo. Get this type of job, buy this type of home, attend these sorts of social functions. The American Dream has become a mold into which masses of people are pressed, creating a nation of individuals who live exactly the same. In this mold, we are told that wealth is everything, it will bring happiness and contentment. And it is this mold that Rothko found so repulsive, because it shreds away humanity through the dissipation of basic feeling.

So, when the Four Seasons restaurant commissions Rothko to decorate their building, he is at a conundrum. They are willing to pay, what would be the equivalent in today's money, two million dollars for his paintings. However, Rothko considers, the Four Seasons is a restaurant for the excessively rich, those who are happy and content within the American Dream mold. So ultimately, Rothko refuses to supply artwork for the restaurant. He believes that people who eat there are not worthy (or even capable) of understanding his work.

I agree with Rothko in that the excesses of life take away our humanity. While today, we have technology to make our lives easier (they say), it is actually dehumanizing us. It takes away the encounters that provide us with fear, ecstasy, sadness, hope, and every other emotion that comes from experiencing life.

Best Directors: Darren Aronofsky

Darren Aronofsky is one of the best directors currently working, due to his attention to detail, real characters and unique story lines.

Watching an Aronofsky film is like looking at a painting by a meticulous painter who considered every brush stroke, every shade of color, every aspect of his creation. In Aronofsky's latest film, "Black Swan," multiple sound effects can barely be heard (the flapping of wings, low frequency rumblings, etc.), as if they were subconscious. The effect they have is almost undetectable, and yet it makes the film so much more complex. In his second film, "Requiem For A Dream," Aronofsky uses extreme close ups paired with amplified, exaggerated sound effects for a creative montage that underscores each character's addiction. Aronofsky knows that the more thought you put into something, the better it will be.

His characters, while the story line might not always be taken literally, are real and heart-breaking. Aronofsky's most gentle film, "The Wrestler," exemplifies this the most. In it, washed up wrestler Randy clings to the fame and adoration that his sport brings while getting older, less able, and more fragile. All the while, Randy realizes his loneliness and tries to assuage it with having sex, attempting to mend broken relationships, and continuing wrestling, even after he has a heart attack. Randy's hopelessness and sadness are poignant to the point of tears. Aronofsky takes characters and forces audiences to empathize with them.

All five of Aronofsky's films expertly handle the topic of obsession, an interesting and necessary topic for audiences to consider. In his films, Aronofsky shows real situations of obsession, not fake, overdone plotlines that lack creativity. In Aronofsky's first film, "Pi," the main character is obsessed with numbers and tries to find a pattern that will predict the stock market, a task that ultimately consumes him. In "The Fountain," the main character is possessed by the notion that he can find the tree of life and live forever with his wife. He becomes so obsessed that his life becomes enslaved to the idea, completely overtaking him. Aronofsky knows that anything can become an addiction, and if left unchecked, it probably will.

With only five films under his belt, Aronofsky has yet to make a film that lacks depth or complexity, has flat characters, or a traditional storyline. It looks like he might become a staple of American filmmaking with his current work and his work to come.

Under Cover of Darkness

For over a year, I have been waiting for this moment. It was always in the back of my mind, popping up whenever I would think about following a band religiously, which is what I do. And now, this is it (reference very much intended): the Strokes put out their new single from their forthcoming album. The single is called "Under Cover of Darkness." And I will say, I like it.



The song starts with an upbeat drum and guitar combo, sounding like a 60's pop song went through a garage rock washing machine. Then, Julian's voice comes on. At first, I was sad that they chose to leave his voice clean, without the effects found on the first two albums. He chose no voice box on "First Impressions of Earth," and I wasn't impressed, so I assumed it wasn't going to be good. Later in the song, though, I would be proved wrong. The guitars are peppy, and your head instantly bobs up and down. When Julian sings "it's a nightmare," it is apparent that the Strokes have not lost their sound one bit. The first verse sounds playful, yet also hurt, as most Strokes songs sound.

The build up hears Julian tell someone "don't go that way, I'll wait for you." In those lines, a longing (that is amplified in the chorus) is poignant in a way that reminds me of Counting Crows, which was cited as one of the influences for this new album.

I just noticed that in the background of the chorus is harmony. I don't recall the Strokes ever doing harmony before, however, I could be wrong. Nevertheless, it works. The chorus reads "I'm tired of all your friends, listening at your door. I won't, I better call you. So long, my friend and adversary. But I'll wait for you." I'm impressed that one song can sound both chipper and also heartbroken.

After the first chorus, an interesting two guitar riff is played. At first, they play the same notes, but then one switches into a high pitched squeal. It's a sound I've not heard before, or at least consciously.

The second verse is similar to the first, except that in it, Julian verbalizes so much more emotion. At one point he sings "I've been out around this town and everybody's been singing the same song ten years," a profound discontent that I like.

The second chorus is composed of enigmatic lyrics that I can't decipher. Nevertheless, I like it because what I've come to understand about the Strokes is that feeling is most important. The tone of the song is essential.

The guitar solo starts off simple, unimpressive, rhythmic. Then, the drums break down and the solo jumps into a sort of looping, meandering sound. Next, the drums build up and the solo goes back to the simple sound. While it doesn't sound technically complex, it is pleasant and provides an adequate emotional build up to the next chorus.

In this chorus, Julian really communicates that he has had enough. "I'm TIRED of all your friends, KNOCKING down your door" he sings with emphasis. Then he respectably grabs a high note out of nowhere, a fitting end to the song.

Under Cover of Darkness is confusing in that it seems to be catchy and shallow; however, it skillfully intertwines sadness into a jangly pop song, a sound that the Strokes have not done this well ever before. While the song lacks the outright badass sound of the first two albums, it contains a remnant of it that makes the song feel like it is being sung by rock stars who have looked back at their careers, their lives, and seen things they regret. Which is exactly what the song is, or at least, where it's coming from.

I do understand that I am bias and am more likely to enjoy the song because it's the Strokes. But this isn't always certain--First Impressions of Earth made me feel queasy. That said, I give this song a 8.7 out of 10. High hopes for the new album have just been solidified.

Into the Wild

The length of this post will not express the feeling I am experiencing. Nevertheless, I am finding it increasingly more difficult to make time to write my thoughts down, even though I myself value them tremendously (a fault that I will eventually have to confront) and take pleasure in reading them once they are written down. Apart from the narcissism, I am always surprised to read the words I write because I doubt that I am capable of writing anything coherent, intelligent, or moving. Nevertheless and moving on, here are my thoughts.

I am increasingly, rapidly, and frequently thinking about nature, about the wild. I think it has something to do with the trip I am making over spring break, coupled with a recent viewing of "Into The Wild." There is just something about nature that appeals to me so strongly now, an appeal that was absent in my growing up years. I have the strong urge to wash my clothes in a river and hang them on a clothesline; to wear boots that take me to the top of a mountain that overlooks an expansive forest; to watch a campfire dance and to hear the crackling of the wood. I wonder if this longing is typical in youthful males, in every male even. It must be, because since starting "Into the Wild" (the book), I have had over a half dozen males tell me how good of a book it is, comments that aren't typically expressed in Abilene community (that is a comment more on the lack of desire to read in my generation than anything else).

I regret that this desire has come over me after I left home. My father was always trying to get me interested in the outdoors: we participated in multiple father-son nature groups, we went camping once or twice, he bought me a pair of intense boots that would keep your feet dry if you jumped into a lake, things like that. And every attempt he made was met with my violent indifference, the same as if someone asked you how your day was. I realize now that, along with everything else in my life, I had to find it for myself. I had to discover the desire within without any prodding or encouragement or optimistic hopefulness.

Now, I think I could converse with my dad about nature and not feel the stinging hesitation of apathy that pushes my shoulders forward and cocks my head sideways into a pitiful, weak stance that indicates how I don't want to comply, but I also don't want to offend.

Hopefully, this feeling won't go away, like so many other motivations in my life. I hope I can see this desire through the rest of my days, a life full of experiences of clean air, fresh earth, dangerous encounters and lasting memories.

"Nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future." Christopher Johnson McCandless

My Future

I was sitting on my bed, thinking about many things. The topic that was most prevalent in my head was my future; more specifically, my hopes for the future. I came to the conclusion that I have no dream of what a perfect life would be. I don't know what I want to do for myself for the rest of my life if I had the chance. I would like to be a cinematographer, but that is only for a profession (and an art, yes). But if I could go anywhere, where would I go?

I came up with this: if I have to stay in the U.S., I want to go to Horseshoe Canyon in Arkansas. I want to live in that beautiful valley, facing the tree-lined mountains, free to fish or ride horses or run and be away from it all, and yet close enough to be around the people I love without too much loss of time or money.

What I learned about myself is that I want to be both consumed by nature and near people. Those seem contradictory, I know. I can't understand it. All I know is that I want to be able to interact with people often, but not necessarily every day. Or, better yet, I have a stable, easy job that lets me have the weekends (or whenever the most awesome waves come in) to go be in the wild. That would be legit.

Why the nature kick all the sudden? I have no idea. There's just something about being in the wild that is so appealing, almost subconsciously. It's as if my body knows that it was not made for these buildings, cars, and suburban lives. That's my theory about why my feet stink--my body knows that my feet aren't supposed to be wrapped up in shoes all day but rather, able to walk free, so it makes the feet rebel in the only way they can. Outlandish, yeah, but possible.

I want to surf, I want to hike, I want to see the tops of mountains and the world they watch over, I want to camp, I want to run, and I want to be in the place where we were created to be.

If I could go anywhere in the world, I would go to Ilha Grande. That place is the perfect mixture of wild and civilization. I decided that if I don't have a job lined up after graduation, I will go live down their for at least a month. I hope I can't find work.

My Unhated Least Favorite

I didn't like Rain Man.

Everyone I've ever talked to about movies has told me "you have to see Rain Man!" Everyone said it was great, that Dustin Hoffman was amazing.

I disagree. I think Dustin Hoffman was just acting like a robot, that's it. And that's been done a million times and isn't difficult. I think it is interesting that Tom Cruise has perfect hair in every single scene of the movie, and he looks like a barbie with all that makeup. I think the plot was trite and that none of the characters truly changed (a weak script, I would cry).

But what I think about most is how safe the cinematography was. Everything was standing still. No movement. In the 60's, there was so much experiment with the camera--different movements, angles, and most of all, long shots. One shot without being interrupted by close up. This is the style I want to shoot. I want every single shot to be different than anything that has ever been done before. I want to experiment, to try and break new ground in the field. I want to make a movie that was completely the opposite of Rain Man.

Sartre

Chapter 9 of Ten Theories of Human Nature discusses Sartre, the famous existentialist philosopher, and his concepts. His major theory is about human freedom, in that we are more free than we think we are. Most people see their lives as a collision of unavoidable occurrences (going to school, being late for work, running out of coffee, etc.), and therefore are trapped as a victim of circumstance. "I can't leave him" a girl in an abusive relationship cries; "I have to study" moans the overwhelmed student; "I need to eat something" the hungry man says. All of these statements (and the countless others that are possible) are statements of captivity to one's situation. What Sartre wants the world to realize is that we are who and where we are by choice. One chooses to study because the consequences would be a failed test and undesirable effects to follow; however, one could choose to not study and face the consequences. Same goes for the food illustration--when one is hungry, he/she has the option of eating and satiating the hunger or not eating and enduring the body's breakdown. Sartre wants the world to see that the chains of bondage are actually an illusion.

I agree with Sartre to an extent. I believe we as humans victimize ourselves far too often and live lives guided by mirages. For example, take freshmen guys living in Mabee. Curfew is at midnight, every guy knows that. If at 12:30am, one guy gets hungry, he feels helpless because he thinks he can't leave the building. It's a subconscious constraint that he places over himself. Sartre desires that boy to consciously see that he has the capability to walk out the doors, however, he will also have to suffer the consequences. This is something that we could learn to do better--to see the world as it really is, not how we assume it is.

The area in which I disagree with Sartre is his extent of control. He believes we have control over every aspect of our lives, and I simply disagree. I disagree because of relationships, both of friendship and of love. Try to understand why you love the people you do, and you will soon realize how irrational your behavior is. It is impossible to make someone else love you thoroughly and genuinely. I think Sartre was on to something with his existential philosophy, but I think he takes it too far.