Reactors

Today on my way to the bridge, coming home from work, I passed by a hundred or so stopped cars. It's moments like those when you're grateful for a bike. When I reached the cause of the stoppage I found that it was caused by a vehicle that the police had pulled over to the side of the bridge. The odd thing was that it wasn't really obstructing the road - anyone could've passed by at a reasonable pace if they'd wanted to. But they didn't. (Almost) everyone was leaning out of their windows gawking at the coppers and the two shifty looking fellows who seemed to have been driving the car. Once the traffic got past all that it sped up to a normal flow pretty quickly. On that side of the road. On the other side the same phenomenon was occuring - hundreds of cars were backed up for kilometres. And whatever was going on at the bridge wasn't even that interesting.

Humans are great marksmen in a very specialised area - we never fail to shoot ourselves in the proverbial foot. Forget environment, chance or supernatural powers - we far excel any of them in the ability to get ourselves into trouble. Any outside observer of our planet would probably deduce that it was an art form. We often take pride in the fact that we've extricated our rears from various tight spots down the millenia, but the real situation more closely resembles a panicked man flailing about in a bog; we're making progress, yes: mostly in the downwards direction. Boasting of our survival reflexes we claim to be the greatest of the animals. That's an accomplishment, I suppose, but Man is capable of much more than that - we have been given the gift of Action. And what have we done with it? We've left it under the Christmas tree, content to play with the simpler, easier - and far inferior - Reaction.

Files & Folders

Well it's finally happened - happening - will happen (is there a one word future tense term for happen?): Tonight, barring cruel and unusual circumstances, I will be watching Pride and Predjudice. Yes, I've finally defected to the dark side. Sort of. You see, for years people have extolled its virtues to me, and I've either scoffed (if it was a guy) or given them that quick little half-smile that so succinctly conveys That's nice, thanks so much for asking but really I need that like a cold cup of sick. 'Victorian', 'high society' and 'custom' aren't exactly concepts that thrill me to the marrow. My idea of a period film is Braveheart. So how did I end up caving in? Ermm . . . attrition. And that fact that my (hah) predjudice against it has been based solely on the concept of such a story, not the story itself (which I've obviously never experienced).

It's something that we do quite a lot. We revile, dimiss, or ignore a thing not for what it is but for its type. Humans are the secretaries of the universe, we put everything into little files and folders and boxes. It helps us make sense of a very messy desk, but often items will get shoved in under the wrong classification. Sometimes giving a thing any broad label at all is misleading. I'm not an anti-box fanatic, but it's my opinion that they definitely have their limits. And occasionally they're decidedly less than helpful. Paperwork will continue to pile up, and only fools will leave it all lying around in a heap, but maybe when we next go looking for something we could consider leafing through a folder that has previously been pushed to the back of the drawer.

"It Means Peace"

The Popes recent lecture at the University of Regensburg garnered quite a bit of attention when he mentioned that Islam had a history of violence. Many Muslims worldwide promptly called for an apology "or else". I suppose the rifles they were brandishing were solely for the purpose of shooting into the air in celebration. Now I'm aware that type of behaviour didn't come from right across the board, nor was it universally condoned in the Islamic world. But I suspect the percentage of those who 'protested' (read threatened) was higher than I'd like to guess. It's not quite polite in our politically correct world to speak ill of any religion, but my question is: Is it polite to ignore what adherents of a faith have been saying for hundreds of years? True, there are peaceful bits in the Koran (indeed, progressive Muslims are quick to point out, Islam means peace) and distinctly not peaceful bits. If you study the history however (a subject which all media personnel would to well to take) you'll quickly realise that the passive 'make-friends-with-your-enemies' sections were written when Mohammed was in a strategically weak position and on the back foot, as it were. The 'put-the-infidels-to-the-sword' passages were set down when he ruled Mecca with a powerful army behind him. Reading the whole thing in context (as any believer should do) a message emerges that has been faithfully followed down the centuries: If your enemy is strong, give him a fish - if he is weak give him a scorpion. And I'm afraid 'enemy' means us. This sounds a bit harsh, but shouldn't we take them at their word on their own ground? There are two realms declares the Koran, one of War, the other of Peace. The realm of Peace is where Islam reigns. The realm of War is where Islam does not yet dominate. And considering Big M's track record, I don't think it means an inner journey to greater sanctity and 'peace'.

The Price of Snobbery

During the past weekend I had the opportunity to gather with a few friends and aquaintances to read aloud and listen to poetry. I enjoyed the time immensely and hope that it won't be the last - some of the best of the worlds poems were not designed primarily to be read, but rather spoken. One of the most interesting facets of the occasion though was the range of taste and styles presented. My personal preference is 20th century with an emphasis on pre-60's work, so that was what I read. Someone else brought a piece of allegorical verse that was (I'm guessing) of 18th century origin. Another recited The Highwayman from memory. And the cool thing was that no one came away feeling looked down upon or snobbed; because they weren't. Though I share Tolkiens "cordial dislike for allegory", and the woman who recited Noyes' masterpiece probably wouldn't naturally seek out modern poetry, we each listened with open ears and minds to the others choices. I can't speak for everyone present, but in listening to (not merely enduring) genres that I wouldn't normally enjoy I began to see their strengths. I still have my preferences; that hasn't changed and isn't likely to in a hurry - however I percieved that there are good things in those other styles that aren't found elsewhere. That there is a place for the strong metre and rhyme that I'd hitherto shunned. That there's even some value in direct allegory, which I've so often dismissed as crude. I didn't 'become them' - I just got a bit larger. Life's not much fun for a snob. They constantly have to assume (and doggedly defend the fact) that their tastes and opinions are the best, and everyone else has, to one degree or another, got it wrong. They miss all the richness of knowing that there's more out there to be discovered; that interacting with others can unlock new realms full of wonder that have previously been barred to them by Ignorance and Pride.

Mama Helen

A few minutes ago I came across an article in which an ex Family Court judge was proposing that parents should have to hold 'licenses' if they wished to raise children. Licenses would be issued upon evidence that the home environment was one that didn't put children 'at risk'. If parents refused to comply with the Governments checklist they would face sanctions that could include having their children removed.

I know that there are a lot of dysfunctional families out there, and I'm aware that kids are getting messed up for life as a result of it. But is this really the answer we're looking for? Maybe it would allow quicker identification of harmful behaviour and environments but what would it cost us? Well, it would cost parents their authority for a start. Under the present system, parents can (within the bounds of the law) raise their children as they see fit, for better or worse. Admittedly sometimes it is for the worse but what's the alternative? That the New Zealand Government lays down rules for how a family should be run. A slightly ironic scenario, as the driving core of our Government consists of a tight group of childless lesbians who at every turn oppose the traditional family structure. And we're supposed to believe that they'll know best what a supportive and loving family environment should be like. Abusive homes are a real problem however, and perhaps are largely to blame for the increasing crime rate in other areas. The solution isn't going to come from regulation though. It has to come from a change of heart, parent by parent; a desire (followed by action) to choose for the best of their children, regardless of inconvenience, pain or sacrifice.

Q & A

This morning as I prepared to shave and shower my dad poked his head into the bathroom and asked if I could just delay that a moment and go clean his car. And it wasn't really a multiple choice question. In fact it wasn't a question at all - just a veiled instruction. These sort of 'questions' are fairly common in our day to day conversation; we use them as a softening device. It's a bit of a bad habit, because we can eventually forget what questions are for: finding things out. All children know this - they ask questions to learn, to enlarge their view of the world, to gain that which they did not have. But as we get older we're introduced to the rhetorical question; an inquiry that does not seek a reply. For many that's as far as it goes, and they are fortunate. Because the degrading of the Question doesn't stop there. If one becomes sophisticated, perhaps having gone to university or some other place where thinking is worshipped, there comes a stage where one may ask questions not to learn or to command - but merely for the sake of asking. These people consider it enlightened to inquire and to ponder enigmas, but not to learn the anwers. Oh no, it would be arrogant to assume that one person could discover an objective solution. That would be monopolising the truth. Even to seek for an answer would be to conclude that you were able to get it 'right'. And that's unthinkable. So they go on philosophising and 'asking' the great questions of life, but not only are they not looking for an end to their search - they are in fact actively 'unseeking' it. One day however the Answer will find us all - and the Question will be: were you ready?

'Higher Principles'

This evening my sister read to me a piece from Wildes The Importance of Being Earnest. The two male protagonists had just got themselves into a load of trouble and subsequently set about bemoaning their situation - and eating muffins. At least, Algernon (the 'lovable rascal' character of the play) was eating muffins and Jack (our sensible{ish} hero) was complaining about Algernon eating muffins. At first Jack attempted to take the moral high ground: It's perfectly heartless for you to be eating muffins at a time like this! But Algie had no real concept of moral geography, so he merely replied that that was what he did when in trouble - he ate. Foiled in his 'guilt-trip' scheme, Jack proceeds to tell his friend to stop being such a greedy pig, and to give him a few. Algie may be wicked but he's not slow and quickly retorts I thought you said it was heartless to eat muffins at a time like this. Jack however had one more childish Ace up his sleeve: I said it's heartless for you . . .

Sound familiar? How often do we drag 'higher principles' into our personal petty feuds? And when they fail to come to our aid we drop them and revert to tit-for-tat. The trend stretches all the way from toddlers disputes to major wars. We don't like to come right out and say I want that, so give it to me. That's crass, barbaric - and exactly what we're really saying anyway. Instead we cloak it in lofty ideals: You can't have both chocolate bars, it's not fair or God has told us to dominate unbelievers and rule the world. "Fair" or "God" have got nothing to do with it. Unfortunately many people look around and see the evils and atrocities committed in the name of God, Justice, Freedom, et cetera and consequently say Hang all that. It's just a sham; an excuse. Which is where they are very wrong. Yes, Gods name has been used 'in vain' many times, as has just about any altruistic principle you'd care to mention. But that does not mean that they do not exist, nor that they are not Good. It is by their light that we know that deceptions exist - for who, living all his days on a sunless planet, ever said "It is dark"?

Like An Onion

I began reading At the Back of the North Wind this afternoon. People don't write this sort of stuff anymore - not since Lewis. We simply don't see unaffected, multilayered, mature 'faery stories' (as Tolkien called them. Indeed for a number of reasons this term is preferable to 'fantasy') written for either children or adults these days. Why distinguish anyway? Obviously there are some stories that it would be unwise to give children, but there should be no good childrens book that's 'off limits' for Grown-Ups. The whole child/adult dichotomy is a sad one, because authors think that they'll do best by condescending to younger minds - and older readers avoid books crafted for kids because they'd consider it 'immature' or 'below themselves'. Lewis once said that a good childrens book should be able to be read at 8, at 18, and at 80. By those standards (high, but not unrealistic) there's not a lot of good stuff around. A good book is like an onion (or an ogre): it has layers. And the outer layers aren't inferior to the inner. They're just different. A child will percieve the initial layer, and that's wonderful and sufficient. If (not as) we grow and become more mature we will begin to discover more layers that don't invalidate or 'outmode' the first, but rather complement it. The first reading wasn't incomplete or wrong - it was a beginning. Life's the same. When a child looks around and declares that everything is quite simple, they're right. And when a philosopher says that there are wheels within wheels, they too are right. But the important thing is to start at the beginning. For a beginning, as the North Wind pointed out, is the greatest thing of all.

Poor In Spirit

I was researching copyright laws today for a possible upcoming project. I like to know the rules thoroughly and then exploit loopholes. Anyway, it occured to me that ownership is a bit of a funny concept. I mean, you get born with no possesions and then from there on out everything you acquire is either given to you, or taken by you. When you start to speak (or think) of a thing as 'rightfully yours' it's more of a defining and comforting thought than a strictly true fact. There's only so much stuff in the world, (energy, resources - perhaps even ideas?) so it's like a cosmic marbles tournament - what one gains, someone else loses. There is nothing new under the sun. In that light, should we really be so possesive? Isn't the 'stuff' really just passing through our hands on the way to a new 'owner'? Realise that I'm not suggesting a communistic alternative. Communism has never worked because no one has bothered to try it. It assumes that we can be unselfish people who put the whole before the individual. But we're not like that, and never will be. Sorry. Capitalism (though based on selfishness and possesive ownership) seems to be the best way of running things in this twisted world. If anyone else knows a better alternative please let me know, I'd love to hear it. I suppose what I'm advocating is a change of outlook or even (should I be bold enough to wish for so much) of heart. Because the problem has never been how many things we have, but how tightly we hang on to them. Why did Jesus tell the rich young ruler to give all he had to the poor - because being rich is a fault or sin? No. Jesus knew the man was attached to his possesions and needed to give them up before he could broaden his heart and gain more important things. "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

True To Stew?

In a novel I've been reading, one of the themes or 'morals' if you will, is that you should always be true to yourself. That's very fine, and makes a good case for personal honesty, but young Syndrome from Pixars Incredibles had a good point: You never say which part of yourself to be true to! The part, perhaps, that wishes to take advantage of others to build yourself up? Or the part which is willing to destroy even itself in the end for the chance to continue to gratify its own wishes? 

No, we're not wholly evil, but we each have enough dark rot in there to significantly taint the pot, so to speak. And we're supposed to be true to that stinking mess? Not a good option, methinks. Maybe we shouldn't hide or cover up who we are (although I have my doubts about that one) but we certainly should not stick it on a gilded pedestal. I'm not saying you should be true to anyone elses self either - that's nearly as bad. We are what we are, but that doesn't have to be how we stay. A journey of awareness must be undertaken in the inwards direction lest we remain clueless about ourselves all our lives and consequently damage others, but any journey of progress must be outward bound. We're not good enough to merit the inward sort of journey; and don't let anyone sell you the lie that if you dig deep enough you'll find your buried innate goodness - you mashed and squandered that a long time ago. You'll find a stew of indeterminate contents, and it'll smell distinctly dodgy. Not worth travelling to the end of the rainbow for. There is One, however, that we can take a journey into - that will give us more even than a pot of gold. To that expedition there will be no end - only an endless voyage deeper and richer into a heart of living fire, where we will be transformed and rarefied at last . . . and yet remain ourselves.

All It's Cracked Up To Be

I started reading a book about a group of soldiers yesterday and was surprised, when putting it down for the first time, that I didn't really expect them to ever get around to fighting anyone. Which is a bit unusual really, as that's supposed to be their job. In theory. And they haven't yet. They may as the story goes on, but it's just as likely that the whole body of the book will be taken up with them marching from place to place. It wasn't quite what they expected. Many things aren't. Humans are terrible at assuming things; they are also reknowned for seeing things as they wish to. A combination which makes any transition into a solid reality a rather uncomfortable one. The recruits were expecting strong ideals, hearty company, and a glorious fight for their country. They soon found out that they would be unlikely to see action glorious or otherwise, that their 'compatriots' were scared, miserable, at times inanely cruel and ultimately fighting (erm... marching that is) for selfish reasons. We often make the same error - after all it's not all our fault; ideas, ideals and concepts are shunted at us so thick and fast that we have little choice but to absorb some of them. The key is to realise that it's happening - when we know that the image we have of a particular thing is quite possibly false or skewed we're much less likely to be disillusioned. We have to assume some ideas are true (sometimes on very little hard evidence) - our brains can't function on constant uncertainty - but never let us mistake a necessary evil for a good. It must not become an auto-drive mode that we slip into - if it does, the effects won't stop at disappointment for not recieving what we expected. A thick comforting shroud will be wrapped around our minds until the point is reached when its removal will paralyze us - and if it is never removed we will drift slowly, like a man in the last stages of drowning, into unconciousness and beyond.

Adaptation

I read today that your average New Zealand meat pie has the equivalent of a golf ball sized lump of lard in it. I wasn't really shocked. What is a bit concerning (if you care about society at all) is the amount of Kiwis that basically subsist on the things. Meat pies, fish & chips, and cheap chinese takeaways. And the government spends millions trying to figure out why low income families are suffering from heart problems and obesity. There's a little bit more to it than just that though. These things were never really a big concern pre-60's or so and stodgy, fatty foods were the norm back then. They weren't as 'health-enlightened' as we are, yet we're the ones getting sick and fat. It's the lifestyle - they were farmers, dock labourers, whalers and builders; a slightly different bunch from our modern multitude of IT technicians, office workers (specific occupation unknown) and state benefit bums. So we've changed. Now we're stuck with it. Oh yes, no one knows better than I that the clock cannot and will not be wound back. My humble suggestion: adapt. We've gone on eating like we've been sweating on the farm all day, when in reality too many of us have merely been shuffling around a cramped room. You stick high performance fuel in a run-about-town vehicle and it's going to die quick. It's that simple. I know you can't turn a culture on a 5 cent piece and we've been labourers much longer than sitters, but it would help if we actually thought about it. It can't be impossible - after all, adaptation is the only thing that's kept us going all these millenia. It's our greatest strength, as humans. When something fails to work or threatens us we (eventually at least) find a new way to wriggle around it. If we freeze, we will die.

Emotion Language

I was busy this afternoon selecting music possibilities for my planned feature. I don't have the budget or contacts to get a composer especially for it, so I've been hunting around for royalty free stuff on the internet. I found a site and selected the tracks I thought sounded okay (by description) and my friend downloaded and listened to them (he has broadband). It was interesting recieving the feedback as he listened to them - Bit dull and sad - More majestic - Pretty dark. How is it that music triggers and/or corresponds with particular moods and emotions for us? It's just ordered noise - how can it evoke fear, or convey sadness? Even the music experts seem to be stumped. They'll tell you what kind of music gives a certain feel, but if they can put their finger on why it does so, I haven't heard of it. I can understand why we make music, but not why we listen to it. It's been used down the ages to manipulate our changeable emotions, from the ancient war-horn stirring up warriors to battle, to the pop stars of today who decide exactly what mood they'd like their audience to be in and then successfully bring it about. And what makes a piece of music "beautiful"? There may be principles for this, but if you try to clinically construct a "beautiful" tune by following rules it'll come out merely 'nice' at best. It takes someone working with skill, but from the heart, to create such a melody. Maybe that's what music is all about after all. Language gives us the freedom to convey complex ideas - music enables us to speak feelings.

Playing With Knives

I was reading an article in an excellent magazine this morning, dealing with the rapid rise of advanced technology and its effects on humans. Apparently we're evolving far too fast for our own good, and are suffering the consequences. I can buy this. One only has to compare society today with that of, say, two hundred years ago to see this borne out. In 1806 the Industrial Age was beyond the infant stage, but complicated technology and industrial machines were almost unheard of. Certainly these things would have no place in a home. People still had to interact and speak face to face with others to receive news, conduct business and purchase necessities. Conversation and debate were natural facets of a trip to the market or pub. Furnishings and complex tools still had to be crafted carefully by hand; if your clocks stopped working for no good reason people wouldn't buy from you again. But now we've created machines that enable us to accomplish our goals quicker, more convieniently and with less thought. Gone are the days when you needed a neighbourly chat to learn what's going down - CNN Online and Google News have taken care of that. We no longer have to (and therefore, much of the time, don't) speak meaningfully with people - txt and IM have made things ever so much simpler. And who cares about product quality as long as it's cheap and easily replaced? Humans are not becoming more selfish (we hit maximum on that a long time ago) - but the paraphenalia we've constructed around ourselves has allowed us to become more self centered. We're like kids playing with knives. There's nothing intrinsically wrong with the things, but we're not ready for them. We're too immature.

Dangerous Concord

Last night I was at a friends place hanging out and playing Balderdash. The occasion was a birthday, but it'd been weeks since their birth date and (it seemed to me) that was just a good excuse to socialise. It's one of our basic instincts to gather and interact, but in civilised cultures anyway we seem to need a pretext to do this. Possibly because we're too insecure to admit that we need others for their own sake. Or maybe we're uncomfortable with having to interface with people without a structure in place to keep things from going too deep or getting too real. Not that it's bad to get together and do stuff with people - our society wouldn't survive without that. And I had a great time last night; don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking it at all. But perhaps, every once in a while, we could go beyond that. Donne was right, men are not islands - but we seem to giving it a good go. If we could talk to one or two people now and again it would help. I know this isn't unheard of, and maybe I'm preaching to the converted, but I find it hard, and I don't see a lot of people around me trying it either. Of course we need to be careful - when two minds meet they have the power of the grinding plates of Earth. Who knows what will come of it? And when two hearts collide it is the most dangerous concord in the universe. But what should we do? Keep our distance forever?

There is something that is required for every great venture; nothing good is accomplished without it. It is the currency of the natural world, and a precious commodity. It is Risk. Let us be bold, not with foolishness but with fearlessness - and we'll be the richest men this side of the River.

The King & The Mob

I spent a very enjoyable evening tonight having a cook up on the barbie with a few mates (it was sort of an informal stag party) followed by ambrosia and a few rounds of scum. And no we didn't top off our meal with any gross concoction (it wasn't that kind of stag do); scum is neat little card game that's very easy to play, and quite difficult to win. Whoever gets rid of their cards first becomes King for the next round, likewise the unlucky blighter who's last becomes the next rounds Scum. Then the Scum has to pay tribute to the King with their best cards (that's when it really hurts).
Of course such a game is terribly un-PC. The reigning monarch (yes, the M word) rules the roost, has all the advantages, and collects the 'firstfruits' of the peasant. A barbaric arrangement compared to our enlightened democracy. Or is it? Is that really so different to our society? Yes and no. Today, the government still takes away our produce and distributes it as it sees fit. But I hear someone saying we elected them. It was our choice. Ah. That's true. But does that really make it any better? Now, instead of rulership being sanctioned by God, by Custom or by Cunning, it is raised up by the Mob. And of course that's much fairer than the old way. Now we all have a chance to shove our oar in. Because of course, everyone is special and everyones view is valid. Rubbish. The world is full of selfish idiots, not 'basically good and intelligent people' as some would have us believe. We are no more capable of collectively forging our way to a brighter future than a crew of toddlers would be of manning a battleship. So what then? Am I advocating a return to the days of tyrants and overlords? No, not necessarily - I don't suggest trading new evils for old ones. But perhaps we'd better be little more thoughtful before we extol the virtues of democracy. It balances out our selfishnesses, and (theoretically at least) prevents one person from becoming too powerful. For this we should be grateful; but always remember: it's a poor, stopgap measure. In his heart, Mankind will always need a King.

Finding Narnia

I am listening to the score of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. When I watched the film for the first time I didn't think much of the music, but in subsequent viewings it grew on me. I suppose I was expecting 'Lord of the Rings' when this was an entirely different animal. Now that I own the soundtrack I'm totally convinced that this was the perfect style for that movie. In fact, even in view of general listening it's gone up in my estimation. In my Windows Media Player rankings The Lion has more 4 and 5 star tracks than any other album, including (gasp) The Lord of the Rings.

When I started this post I was listening to 'The Wardrobe', and it got me thinking about how many times I've wished (perhaps even hoped) that one day I would turn a corner and discover that I wasn't "in Kansas anymore, Toto." And it hasn't been confined to just a few 'wardrobe knocking' episodes as a child - I still at times get the feeling that (though unlikely in the extreme) it could be possible to stumble into another universe. Now I've hung around long enough to know that I'm no weirder than most people; I'm fairly sure I'm not alone in this. There will be others who are familiar with the half-expectation that the preternatural could quietly ambush one at any time. The odd thing is, it isn't a scary thought. As much as humans dislike change and cling to securities there's something in many (perhaps all?) of us that feels that this world isn't quite the right place to be - like knowing that you have an appointment with a friend sometime soon, but you can't remember when or with whom. Let the materialists reason that one away if they will. There is a simple explanation: I think that we all do have an upcoming appointment with another dimension. And contrary to popular opinion I believe it's important to be prepared and not just sludge or fritter our way through life until the inevitable falls on us. It's all very well to get to Narnia - but when you get there, there will be work to do. The term will be over and holidays begun - but any school child knows that the best vacations are the ones when they played their hardest.

Almost-Realities

Today I finally received a long awaited battery charger for my digital camera - my camera has been virtually out of action since I lost the last one. I'm now enjoying the freedom of being able to experiment and muck around without having to pay for film. Photography is one of the most reality-based arts forms. Even those who try to be abstract within the form are constantly having to use real shapes and figures, whereas in sculpture, painting or poetry the artist is free to create works that bear little resemblance to the world most of us know. This enforced 'documentary' style in photography is both a weakness and a strength. Because it's easy to capture reality (it's all around us, after all) many do just that with little regard for aesthetic values or drama. On the other hand if one does incorporate those aspects, and has the skill to bring them across, then the raw frankness of the result can put other forms to shame.

There's something profoundly moving (even perhaps disturbing) about seeing an almost-reality on display. We get so immune to the different facets of the world that we live in - but when confronted with something nearly like it we sit up and take notice. Picasso is all very well, but he never allowed people to see things that were there all along for the first time. Film works on the same principles (technically and artistically): it isn't quite real but it's close enough to make us take a better look around. People see it and think Am I like that? Is that how it feels to go through that? What would I do if that happened? It's far more than entertainment. Good photographs and films both provoke questions and prompt us to look at 'the real thing' as we never have before.

Put Your Soul On The Line

I began (in earnest) work today on casting a planned upcoming feature film. (My short film, by the way, is completed and submitted; I'll hear whether it's made the cut in late September.) There are still some issues that have to be sorted before I can start contacting people, but it never hurts to evaluate ones options. One of the things that immediately jumped out at me, so to speak, was the fact that for the female lead part I had about seven names down, and for the male lead only I could only find three. That wasn't because the guys role was more complex or because I know a lot of girls - the simple (sad) fact is that there aren't as many blokes out there who are willing and able to give a dramatic performance. Somehow it has become 'not cool' or even 'queer' for those of the male sex to involve themselves in the arts. Now I can understand (though not sympathise with) this to a certain extent: artistic endeavours require you to put yourself (as opposed to your body) on the line, admit that things are not straightforward and easy, and lower the defensive shield that's usually been fastidiously built over the years. And guys really don't like to do that. This isn't an isolated area either - it's just a symptom of a much larger problem. Men have immense difficulty opening up, being real and exposing themselves to emotional flak; naturally this creates numerous dilemmas. We won't communicate properly because we're afraid to reveal what we truly think, we won't give freely because we're scared of not having enough, and we won't love unconditionally because we fear rejection. The 'New Age Sensitive Guy' isn't the answer - that's just men trying to act like women. Men must be brave enough to put their souls in the line of fire and take the shots when that's what's required to do right. If they will not do that, then I say - no matter how many fights they've won, or people they've dominated - that they are cowards, and worthy only of a cowards respect.

The Deep Places

I was looking today at an application form that I will have to fill out sometime in the next few days; everything seemed fairly standard until I came across List your five best attributes. Now I haven't gone through that many application forms, so I don't know if that's a normal kind of thing to ask for or not, but it instantly struck me as novel, odd and quite shrewd. Because what you will discover from reading answers to that request is not what peoples best qualities are - but what they think they are and would like them to be. Humans are usually poor judges of themselves, but they give away a lot of information unconsciously. So of course I began trying to assess the question in light of answering it and instantly had to bat away a few words that fell into the "would like to be" category. I'm no stranger to introspection - indeed sometimes I wonder if I concern myself with myself too much - but it's not an easy task to sit down and sort out ones good points realistically. Still, I think I'll manage - I've done far too many hours of soul-searching and mental philosophizing to be stumped by a self-evaluation poser.

Many people (apparently) don't spend time thinking deeply about 'life, the universe and everything'. They're perfectly happy to tread through life enjoying simple pleasures and enduring (or bemoaning) simple pains. And strange as it may seem I do not look down on these people. I envy them. In my less sane moments I fervently wish I had been born into their world. They will never in this life know what I know or experience what I experience - and that cuts both ways. They are not aware of some of the sublime concepts that I have been so fortunate to discover, but they will also never be troubled by the dark places that I've unrooted. When Odin gave his eye in return for the knowledge of everything past present and future he was never able to smile again. Fair enough. May I never come remotely close to sharing his fate.

The Winning Gene

We had a birthday party for my sisters sixteenth today. It was a fairly elaborate "Disney" themed affair with deco, costumes and organised games etc. Activities ranged from 'bomber-dropping' marshmallows into each others mouths, to attempting to be the first to scull back a ghastly concoction of randomly chosen ingredients. And the funny thing (when I sat back and thought about it) was that we were all so dead keen on winning. I mean, it's not like we're going to put "No. 1 marshmallow-dropperer" on our list of significant achievements.

It doesn't seem to matter what we're competing at - we like to be first just for the sake of it. Now this is more extreme in some people than others, and with some it's totally suppressed (by fear, pride, etc) but it seems to be a universal trait. I don't think it's a glory thing, because sometimes (trust me) you end up despised and looked down upon when you've done what it takes to win. And you know that's going to happen and you're cool with that. So what is it then that drives us to be 'the best'? It's fairly obvious that it would improve your chance of survival if placed in a harsh and unforgiving environment - but surely we would've shaken that basic instinct off after hundreds (if not thousands) of years of relative security? Is there something more? Maybe it goes hand in glove with our drive to take one step more than has been taken before - to settle wildernesses and climb mountains. Because really, without the compulsion to be that much better than anyone else, where's the raw motivation going to come from? I know, people will say 'for God, for King, and for country' and at some level I'm sure that's valid. But as my drama teacher used to say, "It has to come back to me". Like it or not, we were created as individual selves and therefore function as separate units. We can interact with others, we're not part of them. We understand and can assimilate ideas and emotions that pertain to oneself. Perhaps it's just the natural order of things like and yet unlike - we strive to outdo one another and in the process achieve heights never before conceived.