The Final Cut - discussion

okay so there's this movie. The Final Cut. amazing title for the premise of the film by the way.

the premise: There is something called a Zoe Implant that can be implanted into an unborn child's brain that records audio and video through [the infant, then child, then adolescent, then teen, then adult ] 's eyes and ears. Upon death, the zoe implant can be accessed via external hardware storage device (it can fit in the palm of your hand) that can be retrieved from the Eye Tech Corporation. All the footage is then cut (via a computer called "the guillotine" yes aptly named) by independed contracters called "cutters." These cutters take hundreds of thousands of hours of footage (which the guillotine conveniently sorts into categories) and make a "rememory" which is shown to friends and family as part of the funeral process, about a two hour film supposedly encompassing the person's life and the essence of who they were.

some ethical points in the plot line: we're not meant to see things through anyone else's eyes; who are the cutter's to decide which parts of our lives make us who we are, and therefore how we are eternally remembered through the rememory; knowing that someone will be watching our life after we're gone, will it make us better people? and thereby not truly ourselves if we are acting on account that we are eternally being watched

i can get behind all the ethical points, as well as the insane coolness of this technology (should it ever exist) how far are we willing to go for coolness. pretty F-ing far sometimes. having all of my memories documented for me to retrieved at any point can be a powerful things, making me powerless at the same time. in therapy, memory is a powerful tool in understanding someone as they see themselves and as they see their lives. memory is far from objective, in actuality it can be one of the more subjective entities out there. we remember some things, forget others, we remember things different from others even if we shared the memory, colors are different, words are different. the point being, we remember things as we want them to fit into our idea of things. the things we cut out, they weren't really important to our schemas, to our world order. now, there will be exceptions, lesions, damage, alcohol that adversely affect memory as well . . but all that aside . . we would lose the power to taint our memory as sub- and un- consciously we do it, it has become an important blanket, an important mechanism that has worked for mankind thus far. taking away subjectability, having reality thrown at us whenever we need it, it can shake our world order to its core.

The Best Time = The Biggest Joke

Especially right after i graduated college, i had no sense of accomplishment and no sense of grandiosity about having a college education. I feel i breezed through it by the skin of my teeth . . . that i did my absolute best, not to do my best at school. Those four years, being the best of my life so far . . i have no doubt, will be the eternal "best time of my life."

with such an attitude, immortality at my fingertips, the certainity of large and grand unknown things in my future, everything a question and just living in the moment for today's drink specials and tomorrow's big exam. the naive thoughts that allowed me to fall deeply into everything i did. i don't wish i knew then what i know now. because, then, then would not have been as famous as it was.

but on the account of school, i feel that it was sort of a joke. i went to class every now and then, many classes i only showed up for the the syllabus on the first day and then on tests thereafter. for those classes with an electronic syllabus . . well . . it goes without saying . .

i slept and made friends, had philosophical discussions, read, ate, and mostly laughed and felt. i felt things freshly, for the first time ever and immersed myself in those things that had never done, the exploration and extroversian of college is epic.

but again, the schooling was not what i had expected. sure many classes were difficult, but if going to most of the classes and then cramming two (actually usually one) day before the test can get you an A or a B . . well . . what does that tell you . .

any tom dick and harry can get a ba or a bs. even from my college. it's a flipping joke.

the best time of our lives is the biggest joke of our lives.

sarcasm for the gods

in the last blog i made mention of my prior coping mechanism of running, of detachment, of a security blanket.

nowadays, it has become more and more easy for me to look things square in the eye. I think the threat of the rest of my life has hit me . . the threat that the rest of my life is at my doorstep and if i don't grow up, im going to have a shitty life. i'm going to be unhappy, passive aggressive, and aimless in the world.

for all the perfectionistic tendencies in me . . . all the "if it's not perfect, then it's not worth doing," go against my logical thoughts that include "it doesn't matter if it's not perfect, the act of doing is worth more than idealist perfection." perfection may or may not exist. if perfection is relative than it is everywhere, all the time, but only relatively. if it is not relative, by definition, and utopian, than it clearly doesn't exist. unless utopia is relative. :) and round and round we go.

theres some garbar in my stomach.

so advice to myself: don't run. eat better so there's less garbar. stop seeking something that doesn't exist. be real. have faith in myself at all times. find my bliss. try to do more things on my "things to do before I die." get people to stop talking in my office while I'm trying to blog. FRICK . .shut uppp and gett outttt . . . too bad they can't here my thoughts . . maybe i should be passive aggressive. hah.

sarcasm for the gods.

delirium

this is exactly what i wanted to avoid. time between my blogs.

after a week of soul searching, i find myself feeling more adult, more crazy, less composed, more direct, more afraid, more unsure about some things, less unsure about other things . .

when the concept of forever sneaks up behind you, even if you had it in the back of your mind anyway, it can be unnerving.

as i paragraph away through my blog with vague tidbits, just so you know, not everyone knows, and so hey, you know me and privacy.

the fact that magic i have felt and magic i have lost may be lost forever is deafening to my musical life. the fact that "the hourglass is glued to the table" . . well that may just frighten me into mediocrity and dullness. or it may frighten me into excitement and incompatibility.

when there are moments when emotions are so overwhelming that i can't think straight that the difficult moments of my life topple over each other and spill out of my ears and nose and mouth. . and my eyes are so flooded with bad decisions, with neurotic over analyzing, with a barrel of issues that make me incapable of acting like a normal person . . . when there are moments like that . . thats when i find out what i'm made of. in the past, normally for me, i run. maybe not physically, but sometimes yes. mainly i mentally detach, and i run away from any closeness. that detachment has been my blanket, my coping mechanism so the flooding stops, so i can preserve myself and all i have worked hard to become.

the more i thought about how i wanted my life to be, the more i felt i wanted to keep improving and even if i cant master everything, i'd like to keep moving forward. i want to be happy with what i have. i am happy with what i have. but my mind is something that i can't ever find it in my heart to leash. it resembles a wild boar, or a floating leaf, or a gladiator, or jack bauer, or p diddy, something that can't be harnessed or held down for long and longs to move forward and seek out its destiny.

my thoughts about destiny may be a future topic, i cant gather them at the moment.

i want my life to be hard, intellectual (hopefully not pretentious . . but sometimes it seems they do overlap), hilarious, and most of all full of feeling. feelings in my stomach, feelings in my chest. stirring all kinds of weirdness. the absence of stirration is a bad sign.

i have great friends and if i couldnt vent and process with them at the end of the day about my insecurities about the ticking clock, the enmeshed family and the exotic characters in my life . . . well . . i think i'd flood myself to delirium.

sinatra

I'm not sure what to blog about, so I'm going to start typing and see where this goes. I just opened my pandora window and it put on some sinatra. I love sinatra. it's a classic love. it's an old world love. the time he sings about . . that time period . . it just seems so classy, so jazzy, so elegant and noble . . i'm not sure if i'm projecting . . but that's the feeling i get when he sings . . he seems so chivalrous and devoted . . .

ahh, so chivalry . . something that is a questionable gesture nowadays. women, well sometimes we think that we are too feminist for chivalry, and sometimes all we need to keep us warm is a thoughtful chivalrous act . . . i guess it puts guys in a dilemna . . "should i be chivalrous . . or would that seem chauvenistic and that she is incapable of opening the door herself . .or am i being considerate if i open the car door and offer her my coat . . " what a dichotemy . .two very polar emotions at the end of each arguement . . good luck guys -

me ? well . . at work, im not a fan of chivalry . . on a date . . it's pretty comforting as long as long i'm getting the idea that these gestures are made from a place of consideration not condescension . . .

so there are theories on evolution, that men are hardwired to sow their oats no matter the cost. sure, i can understand the basis of this theory. there is an evolutionary theory on the flip gender saying that women are hardwired to look for mates that will have resources to maintain the survival of her and her offspring. if we give way to these theories we are giving excuses to cheating and polygamy, and gold digging. i understand that evolution as not yet caught up with industry and technology, it may be hundreds of thousands of years before we see any difference. studies show people are happier in stable monogamous relationships. now there are always conflicting theories so i guess . . . this is one of those times where people will always agree to disagree depending on what they believe . .

i believe my brain goes ahead and tells me that i don't need to marry a rich guy to take care of my kids. guess what. i can do it myself! hey what a concept.
i assume if i have this ability that many men have this ability as well. for instance, "hey i sure feel like sowing some oats tonight . . but i have a wife and kids/girlfriend who loves me, i don't want to hurt them/her and possibly destroy what we have built"

novel idea i think.
things aren't always simple though, i get that. sometimes marital indifferences induces cheating, sometimes there are difficulties beyond my single little mind that may facilitate infidelity.
but i guess in this moment, for me, it seems pointless . . . immediate gratification hardly ever lives up to it's hype in my experience whether it's binging on a gallon of ice cream or krunk-calling a really bad idea from the past . . . the consequences always seem to outweigh the 7 seconds in heaven . .

i'm thinking about some decisions i've made in the past. and Im contemplating what factors have contributed to my need to run away from all things real in my life. there have been times where I think, "who am I to have a job, who am I to tell people how to live, who am I to take advice from, who am I to be important, who am I to give someone company for the rest of their life, who am I to commit to forever, who am I to be that important to someone . . .

there are parts of me that want to drown in anonymity . . some of it may be that whole perfectionist thing, not having everything is the same as having nothing . . so if i shoot for nothing, i can't be disappointed . .

but people rely on you, and then you also get tired of being a screw up and try to get your shit together . . . i just hope i do/did it in time. in time to save my life and save the life of those who, unfortunately, are bound to me by some commitment or another . . .

sometimes i think it has to do with self esteem, do i really think that poorly of myself to believe i am so insignificant that i don't deserve a job, responsibility, commitment? and i think about this on and off more often then i'd like . . i am trying to figure it out . . because i can be downright arrogant sometimes, overconfident . . and sometimes so insecure that it surprises me i havent burst into tears already . . . where is the balance here . . extremes . . although passionate and good creative juice, sort of take a toll on my emotions and stress levels . . . so in an effort to reduce extremes . . i try to think about myself and why i think/feel the way i do . . what prompts it . .how can i overcome it and live the way i'd like to live . . .

if i find out - ill blog it out

don't hold your breath though

Stability

more and more, i crave stability . . . i crave it, i tell you, and thinking about it is sometimes the only thing that reduces my stress about the future . . .

somehow things have always worked out okay for me . . no matter the stupid decisions i've made . . ive landed on my feet . . i don't want to call it luck, i don't want to call it divine . . . and i sure as hell don't want it to be a coincidence . . and then i'm left with a question as to how it's happened that i've come this far . . it's not really hard work or smarts that has got me here . . and then when i think about it . . how far have i really come?

so think about where i am, how far i've come, how far i have to go, and that's when my thoughts of stability become shaken . . . that stability is something i can hope for in retirement, if i ever get to retire . .

when my thoughts shake like this, this is when i want to run . . run so far away that nothing will ever catch up with me . . go be a bar back in amsterdam for a few years, go wait tables in spain for a few years, go run a hostel in paris for a few years, float around working on boat. . just anything thats nothing . .because not having everything . . for my desperately perfectionist personality, means just as much as having nothing . .

and then we start again at nothing.

which thing throws me into existential thinking . . . and the ever-eternal question . . . does the fact that life is finite, the fact that life is only now for us, does that make life meaningless or does it make it meaningful . . there is a whole realm of thinking for each argument . . . i think that generally it may be meaningless . . but in order to keep going . . . finding meaning is probably the best antidepressant i know . . .
and when i'm in the throes of existential debate, each side has just as persuasive of an argument.

but i guess, on the bright side (or the dark side - hah - depending on how it's looked at) i have this debate less and less with myself . . . the more stable i become, the less imaginative, the less passionate, the less sensitive, the less creative.

stability is eating my soul.