Makers & Tellers

I spent most of today trying, without an iota of success, to come up with a plot for a 2-3 page screenplay. It's one of the requirements for my South Seas application. I breezed through the first two assignments: a film review and a (very) short critical essay on a particular aspect of the New Zealand television industry. But when I got to the screenplay all work stopped dead - I just couldn't come up with a story. Which is more than a bit ironic. Anyone who reads this blog even semi-regularly will know that I harp on about "story" and how much I love and value it. But the sad fact remains that I do not have the gift for story-making. That doesn't mean that I can't tell stories - there is a distinct difference. Tolkien and King, for example, are story-makers who have achieved fame and success through of their skill in crafting highly original and compelling plots. We love and respect them because they've given us something new and not before thought of. But not every author can, or need, attain this particular goal. Often we don't care if it's original, as long as it's good. That's when folk like Shakespeare and Grisham come into their own. Out of all the plays that The Bard wrote, only one (The Tempest) was original. The others were all stories poached from various sources and retold with flair, heart and a craftsmans touch. And Grisham? For the first decade of his career (prolific though it was) he only told one story: little good guy takes on big bad guy and wins; David and Goliath. But he told it very well. These are the story-tellers. They serve us familiar food, relying on their cooking skills to make the difference. Are they an inferior breed to their 'creator' brothers? Perhaps. I hope (and somewhere deep inside, I think) not. But my judgement is fundamentally skewed - after all, I am one of them.

Happy, Untroubled And Caged

I drove a car by myself for the first time this evening. Shameful, I know. Twenty years old and only just got my Restricted . . .  Anyway, it was a bit of an odd feeling; I had this persistent sensation of space beside me, as if someone was actually unsitting in the passengers seat. It made me more vigilant, not less, because I realised that I was totally in control of my own butts safety and there was no one else to take up any slack. Responsibility often has this effect; people get lumped with having to fend for themselves or others and they rise to the challenge, stepping up several notches from what they previously believed they were capable of. In this country however, the powers that be have decided that responsibility is far too weighty and burdensome for any but a select few to shoulder - and have thoughtfully gone about taking it away from everyone else. Not up to finding a job? Get on the dole. Rather not look after the kids? Send them to government funded daycare. Don't want to commit to marriage? A de facto relationship has all the same benefits. It's a case of smothering mother syndrome on steroids. We are not too far from sliding right into Huxleys Brave New World - a society where no one is unhappy, no one is troubled and no one is free. Intelligence and maturity is being sucked from us by the spider of unresponsibility, leaving a dead, hollow husk. It's not that we don't do what we're supposed to. We're not supposed to do anything - or nothing of worth anyway. Being handed a task, a mandate and something to protect has never hurt anyone. On the contrary, it's given generations of people the impetus to grow, to conquer and to teach. Surely it can't be that bad.

Individualists & Clannites

A conversation I was having this evening wended its way around to the subject of clannish vs individualistic mentalities. Everyone falls into one or the other - safety in community, or freedom in autonomy. I'm not going to argue for one over the other; for one thing I'm not sure if there is a 'right' one and a 'wrong' one, and for another I am highly prejudiced. I don't have a clannish bone in me; frankly that whole culture scares me a bit. Which is funny, because as far as I can tell people from "the other side" fear the individualist mindset. Which side of the divide you happen to fall on probably depends far more on your upbringing and personality than any rational philosophy. There are certainly pros and cons to both paradigms. The Clannites view Individualists as mavericks, loose cannons and chaos-lovers, whereas I see them as rigid, custom bound and close minded. All of the above are at least semi-valid points. Perhaps part of the reason we choose to sit in a certain camp has to do with the old Fate/Chaos dichotomy. From ancient times people have favoured one or the other. Some (including, I believe, FB in a comment on "The Devil You Know...") have theorised that the strong and affluent prefer to believe that chaos rules, while the weaker and more downtrod put their trust in fate. For obvious reasons. This works logically, but in my experience it's a little bit too simplistic of an explanation - I know far too many exceptions to this rule. Ultimately I think that we pick one to cover up or assuage our insecurity. Some fear being controlled and locked into a mold, while others are afraid of having to find their own way. Is it possible to transcend this? I have to say maybe; I'm unwilling to give up hope - but in my limited experience I've never seen it done. Having said that, I'm sure it can't hurt to try.

Larger Than The Label

I was looking at shotgun microphone specs today, trying to decide which model will give me the best value for money. There's only one problem: I know absolutely nothing about sound or mics. So when they rattle off numbers and obscure Latin and/or Greek based words, they've got me right where they most probably want me - well confused. I used to think that these 'specialist knowledge inadequecies' were pretty much genetic and inviolable, but I've effectively proved myself wrong during the course of this year. I've picked up medium-depth specialist knowledge in both filmmaking in general and prosumer camcorders in particular. At the beginning of the year, half of the terms I don't even think about using now would have washed straight over my head. And when I go looking for a camcorder, I know exactly what I want and why as opposed to the look for good reviews and cool names method that was my only resort just four months ago. I'm not particularly gifted in any of these areas, just interested. Which brings up the possibility that we may be limiting ourselves far more severely than our genes do. Boxes make people comfortable because they're tidy and easy. They can also be destructive. "He's a hands on chap", "They're a technical sort", "She's an arty type" can all be intended as compliments, or just as useful reference info - but they can also establish mental roadblocks that limit a persons versatility. The onus to combat this, however, shouldn't be on the 'labeler' but rather on the 'labelee'. Otherwise we'll spend all our time making sure that we never say anything informative about anyone else. We have enough of that already with the PC brigade. No, it is the responsibility of those who have been restrained (by others or themselves) to be larger than the label. We are all different but that idea has been taken much too far, in the wrong direction. Celebrate diversity in others by all means, but don't forget to look for it in yourself.

M & O as a MO

A few days ago I finished the first draft of a script that I've been working on; it felt so good to get right to the end of something, even though it'll require serious revision. Much of today, on the other hand, was spent searching for footage that I've discovered is all out of my price range - nothing tangible was achieved. Days like these can often leave you feeling, not discouraged, but just a bit flat. Like Oh, I spent a lot of time getting nothing done today. To a certain extent unfruitful days are pretty much unavoidable - you're always going to have times when nothing is really working for you, and no matter how much hard slog you put in you won't get a lot out. But this can be minimised. All it takes is motivation and organization. And in five simple steps . . . No, seriously. First off you have to want to get something useful done. Otherwise it's all a moot point really; if you have no will there will be no way. This is harder for some than others. I'm part of the "some". Then once you actually want to achieve something (as opposed to just opining that it may be a good idea) you have to implement a plan. Because the initial and easiest way to do a thing often doesn't work; if you stop there, you're shot. You have to have a Plan B, C, and possibly Q up your sleeve, otherwise you're not going to get anywhere. Blessed are the flexible says the modern proverb, for they shall bend. They shall also get more done than anyone else because they're not worried about doing things the way they originally planned. We always complain about running out of time in our day, but how much time do we waste because we're unmotivated or disorganized? For the majority, I think the answer would have to be Quite a bit.

The Rules

Well, I'm back. The holiday was very relaxing, and the Big Mountain Short Film Festival was excellent. No, my film Waterproof didn't win anything - didn't really deserve to either, so that's alright. It was (admittedly in my opinion) towards the top of its budget bracket though, so I was fairly pleased about that. The main thing was that I learned a lot and met some really talented and helpful people. There were many things that I heard over the weekend which will stay with me for some time, but perhaps the point that impacted me the most was this: It doesn't matter if you break the rules. I'm not a wildly original thinker by nature, and generally tend to do things the way that they've been done before. And there are accepted reasons why a practice has passed into common usage - normally because it works. But it doesn't have to be the only way to do it. Ultimately there's no point trying to look professional while you're working to achieve a goal; the important thing is that your end product, the only part an audience ever sees, looks classy. If tracks are going to blow your budget then drag the camera across a table on top of a jumper. Or use a wheelchair. If you really can't afford a crane, use a ladder. It looks absurdly cheesy when you're doing it but who cares? If you can't tell (or near enough) from what ends up on screen then it doesn't matter one bit. Many of us (myself certainly included) get so bound up in doing things the "correct" way that we don't pause to ponder whether there are viable alternatives. Rules are not as important as they make themselves out to be. Laws should not be messed with as they cannot be broken; they can however break you. But Rules? Rules are like the Pirates Code: "More actual guidelines"

You Dunnit

When I came home from work this evening, I was feeling distinctly queasy. Of course when I got home the witch hunt began: I'd sat backwards on the bus, I hadn't drank hardly any water today, I hadn't eaten. But did it really matter what did it? After sitting quietly for a bit, a glass of ginger ale and bit of tucker I came right. I suppose you'd want to avoid doing whatever it was that caused it if you could help it - but honestly, who's going to change anything just because some you take a nasty turn once? Far too much time and energy is spent on blame-placing and guilt-assigning in our world today when it's just not necessary. A court case, okay. Generally unfortunate circumstances, no. It makes us feel better though to pick out a 'villian' and rationalise ourselves into thinking that all the trouble came from them. It's no coincidence that when natural disaster strikes it's labeled as an 'act of God'. We're never at a loss to find a scapegoat; it's too often the first thing we begin to think about. Not how can we fix this or lets make sure it doesn't happen again but who dunnit? It's futile, immature and universal. Why is it such a widespread mindframe? There are many theories, but I think it's because somewhere in the depths of who we are, we believe that it's our fault. It doesn't matter that logically we can't be directly responsible for even a tiny fraction of the worlds misfortunes - we aren't ruled by reasoning. Maybe there is a link that we can understand though: we have each caused pain, sorrow and disruption, and are all too likely to do so again in the future. In that sense we are responsible - because we're part of the problem.

P.S. I'll be away for a week - back blogging on the 23rd.

Created Equal

Tonight I watched with a small tinge of envy as a friend mindlessly filled up a whole page with cool looking doodles. I, on the other hand, have trouble drawing a straight line, never mind tackling perspective - and anything beyond a cube is like alchemy. But it's simple! they protested. And it was: for them. This is something I have to keep in mind constantly - just because someone is completely talentless in a particular area, it doesn't mean they're stupid. It's so easy to swing one way or the other, to become proud or insecure. But it's completely ridiculous to do anything of the sort. The said friend, for example, couldn't write poetry if he tried and doesn't really understand it when read either. He's a bright guy, a better mathematician than I ever will be, but when it comes to poems (or classic literature for that matter) he's lost. He'd build you a house though. Who's to say which is more important? We all know this is true, at least at some level, but in the mess of life things get forgotten and walls get built. Oh, so you're that kind of person . . . The next step (which we rarely decline) is deciding that the grass is greener somewhere and subsequently become either elitist or forever believing that we were hiding behind the door when all the good stuff was handed out. This idiotic mindset divides more people in our society than race, religion or economic background. Those were the old problems, and we've finally realised them as they make their bow and take a back seat. Well bravo. Let's move on. We now need to come to grips (in our souls, not just our heads) with the fact that all men have indeed been created equal - just not the same.

The Unexpected

I had to catch the bus to a nearby suburb today - perhaps 25 minutes away by car. Sounds simple. It was anything but. I got across the bridge no worries, but when I came to board the connecting bus the driver informed me that he wasn't taking the route that their handbook showed. But the next bus (leaving in half an hour) would be. And I believed him. I had a bit of leeway in my schedule, so I wasn't too worried yet. Time lapse - next bus arrives. Do you go past this street? A blank look in reply. No, we don't go anywhere near there. Getting slightly desperate I ventured Well who does? Number 8 bus apparently did. The one that left while I was talking to the driver. So I took number 7 bus halfway to my destination and ran the rest of the way. I got there in time, but only just; I had 5 minutes to spare instead of the hour I had planned.

This is not the first time something of this sort has occurred. In fact, whenever I try something out of the ordinary it never seems to go quite to plan. I think I've accounted for everything, taken all the factors into consideration - and there's always something else. Please don't think I'm whinging; I'm well aware that this happens to most people. The unexpected is continually ambushing us, and contrary to the popular maxim we can never successfully expect it. The great thing is to deal with it once it arrives. Much more easily said than done, but a good start is to accept ones circumstances, and not sit in muddle because "things weren't meant to happen this way". The rest is a bit like a game really, though often a difficult one and for high stakes. They've thrown this at me, so now I'll shift my plan and try that. It's not always fun (in fact, usually it isn't) but it does teach you a lot. Life is a mean pitcher, and the curveballs that come out of that hand can be nasty - so practice on the small stuff.

Death of a Language

I was contemplating this evening, while consuming a few morsels from my 'dragons hoard' chocolate stash, how the words 'divine' and 'sinful' are almost never used now - except on dessert packaging. In that context they serve as interchangable synonyms meaning "very nice" or as the child in us would say "yummy". Anyone who is doubtful of the fact that the English language is decaying should pay attention to this one example (among many) of very powerful words being literally degraded. We are losing our ability to say anything strongly, beautifully or tenderly. In our race to find grander (and more exaggerated) superlatives, expletives and epithets we are making our speech so grossly overblown and nonsensical that we'll one day soon, I fear, cease to be able to outdo ourselves and will descend into 'communicating' in meaningless heritage-stripped emotion-driven reason-bereft babble. Not only this, but we are losing functionality as well. Can I have that last sausage we'll say; of course you can - it's sitting in front of you and there's nothing wrong with your fine motor skills. What we should ask is May I . . . But that mode of talking has been banished; it sounds too subservient, too humble (and the final deathblow while it lies on the ground - ) too old fashioned. There was a reason that people spoke as they did; contrary to the assumptions of many they weren't just trying to be posh or snobbish. They had important things to say, so they communicated them clearly, reasonably and truely. I'm not saying that they never lied or exaggerated, but merely that the language they used was appropriate to the ideas they wished to convey. This was true not so long ago. We have come a long way, but it is not a one way street. We can win back our speech and with it our minds, for we think as we speak, not the reverse. But it will be difficult and we will have to want to.

Bits of Truth

Yesterday I finished a book that I've been slowly reading for some months now. It was worth finishing, though its plot was a little patchy and perhaps slightly overblown. As is typical of most modern fantasy-type novels (heaven knows why - if Tolkien and Lewis were supposed to have launched the genre) it was impregnated with fairly obvious New Age messages that would at times be labeled as "preachy" if they were of Judeo-Christian origin. I didn't really mind too much, though I mildly dislike "preachiness" in all its forms. What I found interesting though was how many times I found myself nodding in agreement with almost all of a concept, or the first part of a conversation but not the end. Not so unusual really - we'd be a bit silly to assume that everyone that didn't adhere to our philosophy or faith is wrong about everything. But that seems to be the opinion of many people from a range of persuasions. They'll say that their way is the true way, and everything else is irrelevant and of no value. At the other extreme some will say that no one is really solely 'right' and that we all hold a piece of the truth. Let me suggest that there may be a middle road. Anyone who's been reading this blog for any amount of time will know that I believe firmly in an objective truth that we can know; I think there is Right and Wrong. But the cake of Philosophy can't sliced down the middle and divided neatly into those categories. There are bits and pieces that are true or false, not most whole idea systems. Most religions and paradigms have profound (though usually not unique) aspects of truth to them. Does this make them worth following? No, not really, but every once in a while these worldviews will reinforce or shed new light on ideas that I've long accepted but (because of their familiarity) not really noticed.

Dog Eat Dog

Dinner was a rather interesting affair today - it was 'find what you can and eat it before someone else does' night. For someone used to a semi organised everyone-sits-together-at-the-table mode it was quite the novelty. The quickest prospered and anyone who dithered missed out. Fortunately (for some) our tastes are pretty disparate so there wasn't too much competition, though there was an amusing three-way battle over a lone corn fritter.

It's amazing how well survival of the fittest works (that being the opinion of one who's fairly fit): the strong become stronger and the weak weaker. It's not a kind principle, and thus is not widely lauded by civilised humans, but there is no more effective method of quality control. Those with defects and flaws are weeded out, while others who are particularly suited to survive flourish and go on to create new life. Some say this reflects the cruel character of our world, while others applaud nature for its ability to self-regulate. Personally I don't sit easy in either camp, as I don't believe the rule is in itself cruel, nor am I inclined to praise mathematical probabilities or any theoretical Gaia. I have another bone to pick with this law - it is based firmly and unshakably on a dog-eat-dog foundation. In other words, it is large-scale selfishness organised. So what's wrong with that? Well, nothing - but if you begin with the axiom of a God whose primary attribute is charity, it's a little difficult to fit into the picture. It works so well, but it's the polar opposite of 'one sacrificing itself for another'. What's the story? I'm not talking about 'the problem of evil' or anything like that - that's theological childsplay. This is something much more fundamental and integral to the fabric of the universe. Second law of thermodynamics in a nutshell: everything is becoming more disorganised (read dying or decaying); the only way that a thing can become more organised is to increase the disorganisation of something else. Why is the world set up like this? really don't know; I have no answers this time. Perhaps no one will ever find a solution to this enigma, but knowing humans (and myself) there will always be those who will try.

Duty vs Freedom

As I write, I'm listening to the titular track from Michael W. Smiths Freedom instrumental album. It's stirring stuff and well done, though perhaps not highly original - the soundtrack of The Patriot springs to mind immediately, although this is much better. Aside from love (which wins hands down), freedom has been the most extolled and eulogized ideal that ever made its appearance in story or song. On second thoughts, perhaps that's merely a recent trend - duty was highly praised for centuries if not millenia and it was only in the later part of the 20th century that its popularity began to decline. I'm not of the 'the-world-has-begun-to-slide-into-the-abyss-since-the-1960s' school, but it is interesting to note the change in paradigm that the duty-freedom shift indicates. I can understand duty being a highly esteemed value - this is what held war-bands, armies and nations together during adversity. But we have come to softer times, the gut chill of deep fear being unfamiliar to all but a few of us, and any chance of large scale disturbance so far off (we think) that it's almost laughable to mention it. Can you imagine any Western country today submitting to curfews and rationing in order to 'defeat the Hun' who or whatever that might be? It would never happen - there would be an outcry that our rights and freedom were being robbed from us. Which would be true in a sense, but not so long ago men and women were willing to lay down those rights and freedoms of their own accord: for dutys sake. Because they realised practically that there were more people in the world than themselves, and larger issues at stake than their own personal peace and happiness. But we've exiled Duty and raised up Freedom in its place. A valuable principle, to be sure, but is it worthy of the adulation we heap on it? How would we do now if the world fractured and spewed fire - and we were called to stand in the gap? Freedom may bring you to the battle lines, but it's Duty that will keep you there.

Rocks In The River

I managed to secure the location for my feature film today. It's quite a relief to have that under my belt and out of the way; it would've been a pain to get the actors all lined up and then Sorry guys, but we actually don't have anywhere to shoot it. That, along with the news that I will be able to make it to the Big Mountain Film Fest (yes, my short film did get accepted) has lent a fairly positive tint to the day.

Every once in a while you get days like these: when no great victories have been achieved, no projects completed, no flags planted on hilltops - but a few things slot into place that would be missed if they weren't there. For most of us, at least, there is a day, hour, moment of reprieve around the corner. Often we get so goal-oriented (not a terribly bad thing in itself) that all we hope for is to collapse once we've crossed the finish line. There is always that, and it's welcome every time, but if we're not careful we'll be so tunnel focused that we miss the rest-stops - the spots where we can sit down and have a breather. And we don't have to literally stop to enjoy them; all it takes is merely noticing and appreciating them. Rushing by in an inexorable forced-march to reach our destination we too often omit even that; as a result our health, happiness and our inspiration suffers. Some have learned the hard way not to hold out to the utter end, but prudence is a kinder master than experience. It's really a bit of a shame to have to be rushed to hospital straight after one breaks the tape - because there will always be more races to run. Life is an upstream battle - but there are rocks in the river, and behind each rock is a back eddy.

Marvin & Solomon

I had a singularly unimpressive day today. It's not that nothing happened or I didn't do anything, but just that the events of the day were so spectacularly pedestrian. It's on days like these that I'm grateful for my mediocre intellect - if I had any greater sheer weight of boredom would squash me flat. I can sympathise with poor Marvin from Hitchhikers, moaner that he is - if I had "a brain the size of a planet" I'd get chronically depressed too. Many 'progressionists' look forward eagerly to the time when Man will make a quantum leap forward in intelligence, but what I always wonder is this: what would we do with it? Not what could we do, anyone with two wits to rub together can speculate on that. Would we (as the utopians have predicted) use our powers for the betterment of all, the beautification of the planet and the exploration of new realms? Or would we become dissolute, malcontented and cruel? In one of Arthur C. Clarkes more chilling short stories, a human from the far future, who is little but a giant intellect in a shrivelled body, reaches back into the past to our time and takes posession of a mans mind - playing the part of a psychological leech who lives by illicitly taking from others. Is that our 'quantum leap' future? 

We really don't seem to know how to treat knowledge sensibly. It is worshipped as a god by the intellectual upper class and disdained as "largely unnecessary" by the plebians. There was one philosopher however that struck a mature balance - he dedicated entire chapters to the necessity and prudence of aquiring wisdom and knowledge, but in one of his most memorable warnings he said For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief.

 

A Mysterious Gift

I had a very enjoyable evening tonight, grinning and laughing at various jokes and humourous anecdotes that were flying about the room. There's few things better for light relief than good wholesome banter between friends. What most of us never stop to think (and just as well) is why this or that comment is funny or not. Before you all worry about me let me say that I don't either. I just ponder these things later. Almost all the things we laugh at seem to be strange to one degree or another - but some strange things are far from laughable. And we can hear the same joke many times (if it's that sort) and still find it humourous even though we know what's coming. We often laugh at painful things, once the pain has passed; hardly ever do we find good times funny. And perhaps the question that puzzles me most is: what on earth is it for? It lightens our hearts, sure, but lots of other things can do that. It certainly doesn't serve any practical purpose. You'd think that we wouldn't mind losing such a "useless" thing - but having the ability to perceive and understand humour taken away would be a dreadful prospect for almost anyone. All gifts are given for a purpose, and we miss any that are removed or broken, but sometimes it's completely beyond us to say why they were given. Humour is one of those mysterious gifts which even the philosophers seem to have taken for granted. Maybe I'm taking all this way too far, perhaps there is an easy answer and I'm just missing it. But somehow I think not. Isn't it good though, that you don't have to understand a thing to enjoy it.