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This Is Ourselves...Under Pressure
Oct. 12th, 2004 06:10 pmVOTE
First, two totally random bits of deep thought.
I don't think it's possible to predict what anyone will do in a given situation. What we do isn't really based on logic and planning and knowledge. No one can really explain the things we do. Our actions are reactions to whatever it is we're thinking or feeling at the time that it happens. To say, "oh, if it had been me, I would have done this," is just ignorant. How could you possibly know what so-and-so was thinking or feeling at the time? Why does anyone do anything? That question can't be answered. It's the thoughts or emotions going through us at the time that determine how we act. You can't really judge anyone based on that, unless you know exactly what they were thinking or feeling.
I'm always amazed when people can look back on their lives and say, "and that was the moment I decided/realized/understood..." Can you really funnel things into specific moments? Is there really an instance where the universe suddenly opens up and for an infinitesimal amount of time you're allowed a glimpse of the grand design and your place in it? Maybe. But from what I've seen, there are no moments, at least not conscious ones. When was the exact moment that I decided writing was what I wanted to do with my life? When was the exact moment that the panic attacks started? Was there a moment in president Shrub's life when he suddenly saw, with as much clarity as that man can attain, that this war was the right thing to do? Is there an actual moment in the life of a teenager when they decide to start drinking? I don't know. Maybe there are, sometimes. Maybe lightning lances out of the fabric of space and strikes your brain, and for a fleeting moment you feel as if you really know. Really know. Maybe. Things just sort of happen.
I think Social Justice is starting to get to me. We're into conformity now. The herd and all that. We've talked about it today, I'm writing a story about it, and we read this other story. And for some reason, for the first time in my life, I felt capable of doing something crazy and frightening and nonconformist. I felt scared and stagnant. And in this blossoming panic attack of mine, as stupid as the fucking things are, I realized something cold and hard about myself. That given the opportunity to choose between the fear and confusion and anger of these panic attacks, and of conformity (those two don't go hand in hand, I know, I'm just rambling here), and to just be jaded and happy, I thought that I'd rather be jaded. I thought of teenagers through the years and how teenage defiance is astronomically important--it's what moves us ahead and keeps us from tradition and conformity. But look at all the hippies and whatevers of the 60's now. If they're not in a detox clinic somewhere, they're sitting on their asses, not caring about the vote and telling their own kids to behave in school and listen to their teachers and the cops and whatnot. They've all crossed the line, because that's where the money is, that's where it's safe.
Not that it matters. Like I'm saying, in twenty years none of us will care. We'll all be so jaded that none of what matters now will matter. The kids I know who are talking and all about Rock the Vote, about gay rights, about how we need to move forward with liberalism, stem cell research, the genocide in the Sudan--in twenty years, they won't care about any of it, because they'll have families and jobs and they'll like it. They'll like being jaded. I'll like being jaded. It's a terrible prospect right now, but it's unavoidable. It's part of growing up. When the time comes, we'll be thankful for it. It's like that line from the Breakfast Club--"When you grow up, your heart dies." It's the cold hard truth. It's the young people who act. Twenty years from now, we'll look at our own kids and how all they can talk about is some war or some violation of human rights, and we'll become nostalgic and think back to when we were like that and wonder what the hell happen. Then we'll finish our coffee and go back to the office with no windows to answer phone calls and read spreadsheets until 5 when we can go home and sleep and start the cycle over again.
Gods, that's so cynical. But cynicism usually stems from the truth, doesn't it? I hate it. I wish I could be naively optimistic and trust in human nature, but it's such a dumb outlook. Might as well face the truth.
I just watched Better Luck Tomorrow. Very good movie. The most real portrayal of high school I've seen, except for the guns/gangs/drugs thing. Right down to the Sharpie numbers on the textbooks.
First, two totally random bits of deep thought.
I don't think it's possible to predict what anyone will do in a given situation. What we do isn't really based on logic and planning and knowledge. No one can really explain the things we do. Our actions are reactions to whatever it is we're thinking or feeling at the time that it happens. To say, "oh, if it had been me, I would have done this," is just ignorant. How could you possibly know what so-and-so was thinking or feeling at the time? Why does anyone do anything? That question can't be answered. It's the thoughts or emotions going through us at the time that determine how we act. You can't really judge anyone based on that, unless you know exactly what they were thinking or feeling.
I'm always amazed when people can look back on their lives and say, "and that was the moment I decided/realized/understood..." Can you really funnel things into specific moments? Is there really an instance where the universe suddenly opens up and for an infinitesimal amount of time you're allowed a glimpse of the grand design and your place in it? Maybe. But from what I've seen, there are no moments, at least not conscious ones. When was the exact moment that I decided writing was what I wanted to do with my life? When was the exact moment that the panic attacks started? Was there a moment in president Shrub's life when he suddenly saw, with as much clarity as that man can attain, that this war was the right thing to do? Is there an actual moment in the life of a teenager when they decide to start drinking? I don't know. Maybe there are, sometimes. Maybe lightning lances out of the fabric of space and strikes your brain, and for a fleeting moment you feel as if you really know. Really know. Maybe. Things just sort of happen.
I think Social Justice is starting to get to me. We're into conformity now. The herd and all that. We've talked about it today, I'm writing a story about it, and we read this other story. And for some reason, for the first time in my life, I felt capable of doing something crazy and frightening and nonconformist. I felt scared and stagnant. And in this blossoming panic attack of mine, as stupid as the fucking things are, I realized something cold and hard about myself. That given the opportunity to choose between the fear and confusion and anger of these panic attacks, and of conformity (those two don't go hand in hand, I know, I'm just rambling here), and to just be jaded and happy, I thought that I'd rather be jaded. I thought of teenagers through the years and how teenage defiance is astronomically important--it's what moves us ahead and keeps us from tradition and conformity. But look at all the hippies and whatevers of the 60's now. If they're not in a detox clinic somewhere, they're sitting on their asses, not caring about the vote and telling their own kids to behave in school and listen to their teachers and the cops and whatnot. They've all crossed the line, because that's where the money is, that's where it's safe.
Not that it matters. Like I'm saying, in twenty years none of us will care. We'll all be so jaded that none of what matters now will matter. The kids I know who are talking and all about Rock the Vote, about gay rights, about how we need to move forward with liberalism, stem cell research, the genocide in the Sudan--in twenty years, they won't care about any of it, because they'll have families and jobs and they'll like it. They'll like being jaded. I'll like being jaded. It's a terrible prospect right now, but it's unavoidable. It's part of growing up. When the time comes, we'll be thankful for it. It's like that line from the Breakfast Club--"When you grow up, your heart dies." It's the cold hard truth. It's the young people who act. Twenty years from now, we'll look at our own kids and how all they can talk about is some war or some violation of human rights, and we'll become nostalgic and think back to when we were like that and wonder what the hell happen. Then we'll finish our coffee and go back to the office with no windows to answer phone calls and read spreadsheets until 5 when we can go home and sleep and start the cycle over again.
Gods, that's so cynical. But cynicism usually stems from the truth, doesn't it? I hate it. I wish I could be naively optimistic and trust in human nature, but it's such a dumb outlook. Might as well face the truth.
I just watched Better Luck Tomorrow. Very good movie. The most real portrayal of high school I've seen, except for the guns/gangs/drugs thing. Right down to the Sharpie numbers on the textbooks.
