IRON MAN

(I KNOW I said I would write more about Watchmen, but gosh darn it, I simply could not continue writing from memory-or continue to see the film in theaters every week-and will have to wait until the movie comes out on DVD.)

I realize I’m about a year late in writing about this, but all that could have been said about Iron Man has not been said. For one, the movie has a surprising amount of moral integrity, although the hero, Tony Stark, only becomes heroic after a marginal character, Dr. Yinsen, sacrifices his life to save him. Despite Dr. Yinsen’s seemingly altruistic act, it becomes clear that he has nothing more to lose, which redefines his act as selfish, in the most moral sense of the word. Dr. Yinsen’s dying words to Tony are, “don’t waste it,” meaning Tony’s life. This is not the kind of message conveyed by many films today, especially not ones on which critics tend to heap praises.

The female character, Pepper, played by Gwyneth Paltrow, was outstanding. It is somewhat rare to see a female role like that; intelligent, moral, and sexually alluring, without crossing over into the trampiness so many female characters in such roles seem to traverse. To top it off, she’s also flawlessly outfitted throughout. Now it makes sense why Paltrow was featured on the cover of Vogue just before the release of the movie last year (May 2008).

Regarding Paltrow’s performance, it was merely good. I find that she plays the same character in almost every role, but this was a good role for her. Maybe she has exercised her acting while she has been away from films, or maybe this role simply suited her better, it was hard to tell.

Despite the positive things, Iron Man had it’s negatives. One negative in particular really bothered me, and it is the same thing that bothered me about the James Bond film, Quantum of Solace, which I mostly enjoyed, but could not bring myself to like completely. The flaw in both films was their philosophically muddled messages.

In Quantum of Solace, in a scene where Bond is speaking with M about his motivation, he says something heroic--the actual dialogue escapes me--followed by a line that goes something like, “it’s my duty.” What does it mean when a supposed hero is motivated by “duty?”

Ayn Rand wrote that “duty” is a highly destructive anti-concept. She wrote, “the term ‘duty’ obliterates more than single concepts; it is a metaphysical and psychological killer; it negates all the essentials of a rational view of life and makes them inapplicable to man’s actions.”

Rand deconstructs “duty,” expertly differentiating it from “obligation,” and reaches its essential definition: “the moral necessity to perform certain actions for no reason other than obedience to some higher authority, without regard to any personal goal, motive, desire or interest.” Divested of an actual moral motivation to act as he does, the hero, James Bond, becomes completely immoral. His actions are directed not by a set of values that allow him to reach the conclusion that what he does is right, but by some mystical mandate from… somewhere. His statement turns his heroics into mere mechanical acts he does not chose to perform, but must perform nonetheless.

Something similar happens in Iron Man. The entire film is marred by a line very similar to the one about “duty” in Quantum of Solace. Luckily, I have the dialogue in which it occurs in Iron Man:

Pepper- Tony, you know that I would help you with anything, but I cannot help you if you’re going to start all of this again.

Tony- There is nothing except this. There is no art opening, there is no benefit, there is nothing to sign. There’s the next mission and nothing else.

Pepper- Is that so? (pause) Well, then I quit.

Tony- You stood by my side all these years while I reaped the benefits of destruction. And now that I’m trying to protect the people that I put in harm’s way, you’re going to walk out.

Pepper- You’re going to kill yourself, Tony. I’m not going to be a part of it.

Tony- I shouldn’t be alive, unless it was for a reason. [This would have been palatable if not for what follows.] I’m not crazy pepper. I just finally know what I have to do. [Take this in, because the next line will kill everything.] And I know in my heart that it’s right.

He knows in his heart.

[Aside - It is somewhat comical. It is almost as if writers and directors get together nowadays and say, “this depiction of a hero is too good. We need to find a way to muddle his heroism. Ah yes, throw in something about DUTY.” Or maybe it is film producers, or executives at movie companies that say things like, “if he knows it in his mind, then his actions become rational. Throw in some line about the heart. Yeah. That’ll do the trick!”  Whoever it is, whatever they say, the problem consistently manifests itself in many of the movies I’ve seen in the past few years. Ayn Rand spoke of this trend in Hollywood, and criticized it.]

If you read my unfinished review of Watchmen, you might already be familiar with my concern with the phrase about the “heart” in the quoted dialogue. Just like the anti-concept of “duty” diminishes James Bond’s morality, the concept of a mind-body dichotomy diminishes Tony Stark’s rationality (and by extension, also his morality).

Here, knowing something with one’s heart, or in other words, knowing by feeling, emotion, intuition, or some other non-rational, perhaps mystical method, replaces actual knowledge. But actual knowledge doesn’t come from some kind of feeling whose origin you are not aware of, it comes from perception, integration, conceptualization, abstraction, and most importantly, valuation; all functions of a rational, thinking mind, not “the heart.”

However, all is not lost for Iron Man. As I mentioned in the beginning, Tony’s rescuer, in an act of what appears to be self-sacrifice, demonstrates that there are worse things than losing one’s life (recall that his family has been murdered and he has lost his greatest value). Perhaps, one thing worse than dying would be living in a world where people like Obadiah Stane, the antagonist, hold control of the type of technology created by Tony Stark. Perhaps another would be living in a world where people like Obadiah Stane make deals with the kinds of people who kill Dr. Yinsen’s family and make life a living hell.

The tone at the very beginning is set up to convey that a good life is worth fighting for, even at the risk of losing one’s life. If he is portrayed as a brilliant yet capricious playboy, it is only to contrast him against who he becomes in the latter part of the film. Once the positive message about not wasting one’s life is conveyed, we see that a good life can be lived, instead of being wasted in escapism, although it may be a harder life in which one must face evil in battle. Armed with the products of his superlative mind however, Tony Stark is an amazing hero worthy of being cheered on as he fights his enemy, and wins.

It is interesting that a small character like Dr. Yinsen has so much power to change the direction of the narrative. Tony Stark succeeds because he follows Dr. Yinsen’s advice. The movie succeeds because it depicts the heroism of an intelligent, rational man. Is it ironic, or fitting, that moral integrity, even that of a marginal character, can almost completely shoulder an entire movie?

In Your Mind, You Know It’s Wrong! (2nd Watchmen Post)

(Continued from 1st Watchmen post below)

While they are actually quite funny, the aforementioned vignettes are not mere cinematic jokes, nor are they flourishes which merely attempt to add humor after a gruesome murder scene (Rorschach’s murder). The fact that the director placed these vignettes in near succession after the denouement is an indication of how, despite any intentions he might have had to the contrary (although I’m not aware of any), we should interpret the preceding events.

Essentially, the propagandist slogan, “In Your Hearts, You Know It’s Right” plays on the age-old philosophical “problem” of the mind-body dichotomy, which Ayn Rand conclusively resolved in her philosophy of Objectivism, specifically through her elucidations on metaphysics, and later via her explanations on concept formation and the validity of sense perception. In Rand’s essay, Censorship: Local and Express, she explains that by separating man’s mind (i.e., his reason, his thinking) from his body (i.e., his emotions, his feelings), the doctrine that teaches that the mind (or soul) and the body are separate essentially destroys man’s mind—his ability to reason and, therefore, to act according to rational thinking.

To understand this idea clearly, a brief lesson in the philosophical history of the concept of mind-body dichotomy is necessary. For this, I quote from Leonard Peikoff’s comprehensive text, Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand:

The classic statement of [the primacy-of-consciousness, a logical extension of the mind-body dichotomy] is given by Plato. In the Timaeus, discussing the formation of the physical world, Plato recounts the myth of the demiurge. Matter, we are told, was originally unformed and chaotic; a godlike soul enters and tries to shape the chaos into a realm of perfect beauty. The demiurge, however, fails; matter proves to be recalcitrant; it takes the imprint of beauty only so far and thereafter resists all efforts to perfect it. Hence, Plato concludes, matter is a principle of imperfection, inherently in conflict with the highest ideals of the spirit. In a perfect universe, matter should obey consciousness without reservation. Since it does not, the universe—not any man-made group or institution, but the physical universe itself—is flawed; it is a perpetual battleground of the noble vs. the actual.

What the Timaeus actually presents, in mythological form, is the conflict between existence and a mind that tries to rewrite it, but cannot. In effect, the myth’s meaning is the self-declared failure of the primacy-of-consciousness view-point [again, a logical extension of the mind-body dichotomy]. The same failure is inherent in any version of Plato’s creed. Whenever men expect reality to conform to their wish simply because it is their wish, they are doomed to metaphysical disappointment. This leads them to the dichotomy: my dream vs. the actual which thwarts it; or the inner vs. the outer; or value vs. fact; or the moral vs. the practical . . . .

The theory of a mind-body conflict, which has corrupted every branch and issue of philosophy, does have its root in a real conflict, but of a special kind. Its root is a breach between some men’s consciousness and existence. In this sense, the basis of the theory is not reality, but human error: the error of turning away from reality . . . .

The idealists—figures such as Plato, Plotinus, Augustine, Hegel—regard reality as a spiritual dimension transcending and controlling the world of nature, which latter is regarded as deficient, ephemeral, imperfect—in any event, as only partly real. Since “spiritual,” in fact, has no meaning other than “pertaining to consciousness,” the content of true reality in this view is invariably some function or form of consciousness (e.g. Plato’s abstractions, Augustine’s God, Hegel’s Ideas). This approach amounts to the primacy of consciousness and thus, as Ayn Rand puts it, to the advocacy of consciousness without existence . . . .

Materialists—men such as Democritus, Hobbes, Marx, Skinner—champion nature but deny the reality or efficacy of consciousness. Consciousness, in this view, is either a myth or a useless byproduct of brain or other motions. In Objectivist terms, this amounts to the advocacy of existence without consciousness. It is the denial of man’s faculty of cognition, and therefore of all knowledge . . . .

For centuries the idealists maintained that the soul is a divine fragment or mystic ingredient longing to escape the “prison of flesh”; the idealists invented the false alternative of consciousness versus science. The materialists simply take over this false alternative, then promote the other side of it . . . .

Elsewhere, Rand states that the mind-body dichotomy “makes people approach intellectual issues in a manner that they would not use to deal with physical problems,” which effectively brings us back to the humorous billboard towards the end of the movie, “In Your Hearts, You Know It’s Right.” In a world that has achieved world peace through the murder of millions of innocent lives, lives Ozymandias clearly views as expendable, such a dichotomy is necessary in order to justify such an act. If we were to think with our minds, instead of attempting to “know” with our “hearts,” how would we then approach the intellectual-physical issue of mass murder and destruction? Notice that I am not speaking of it in terms that are merely physical (feelings or intuition), nor intellectual (theory or abstraction). It is both.

The act of killing millions of innocent lives “to save billions,” in Ozymandias’ words, is an attempt to affirm that the ends justify the means, and that number has moral value. This is a philosophical cocktail of Utilitarianism (“the greatest good for the greatest number”) and Pragmatism. As Leonard Peikoff explained, “by itself, as a distinctive theory, the pragmatist ethics [morality] is contentless. It urges men to pursue “practicality,” but refrains from specifying any “rigid” set of values that could serve to define the concept.” In the final confrontation between Rorschach, Ozymandias, Nite Owl, and Dr. Manhattan, Ozymandias states that he has carried out his plan for a utopian ideal: “world peace.” He does not count on, nor specify any values that could make the achievement of “world peace,” via murder and destruction on a worldwide scale, a desirable end. Instead, it seems we must assume that “world peace” is not only a desirable, because of the arbitrary Utilitarian value of “number,” but a noble end as well. Thus, Ozymandias effectively diminishes the immorality of the means he has used to achieve his end.

When a television journalist in the movie tries to restate an earlier statement, he says, “I never said, ‘The superman exists and he’s American.’ What I said was, ‘God exists and he’s American.’ If that statement starts to chill you after a couple of moments’ consideration, don’t be alarmed. A feeling of intense and crushing religious terror at the concept indicates only that you are still sane.” Likewise, if you begin feeling an intense and crushing terror, religious or otherwise, at the concept that mass murder and destruction is a justification for world peace, it is only because you are still sane.

The slogan under discussion, phrased the way it is, assumes that people within the movie’s universe (and perhaps, by extension, also movie viewers deluded by the same premise of a mind-body dichotomy) have already severed their mind from their body; their thoughts from their emotions.

Knowing, here, is referred to as a phenomenon that is somehow achieved by feeling with one’s “heart.” What is meant by one’s heart is the realm of emotions detached from their intellectual source, as if emotions have an innate ability to allow humans to grasp the concept of justice, or what is right. But as Rand stated,

Man is born with an emotional mechanism, just as he is born with a cognitive mechanism; but at birth, both are “tabula rasa” [a blank slate]. It is man’s cognitive faculty, his mind, that determines the content of both. Man’s emotional mechanism is like an electronic computer, which his mind has to program—and the programming consists of the values his mind chooses.

But since the work of man’s mind is not automatic, his values, like all his premises, are the product either of his thinking or of his evasions: man chooses his values by a conscious process of thought—or accepts them by default, by subconscious associations, on faith, on someone’s authority, by some form of social osmosis or blind imitation. Emotions are produced by man’s premises, held consciously or subconsciously, explicitly or implicitly.

Elsewhere, she quotes from John Galt’s speech in Atlas Shrugged and adds that “an emotion that clashes with your reason, an emotion that you cannot explain or control, is only the carcass of that stale thinking which you forbade your mind to revise.” Therefore, the fear that you may have felt when considering whether it was fine and dandy, even noble, to achieve world peace as Ozymandias achieved it is perhaps an indication that you should check your premises, and revise them.

Of course, the sign does not refer to the preceding events. In fact, the people in the movie’s universe do not yet know exactly what happened to turn it into something from The Outer Limits or a “hippie commune.” But the viewer knows, and therein lies the irony and the humor.

If you found the slogan funny (incidentally, it seemed I was the only one in the theater who laughed at this point in the movie), it was probably because you guessed this was an enormous satiric gesture that criticized the preceding events. Here, in a few seconds, all the former philosophical premises are inverted and categorically destroyed. This seemingly benign cinematic flourish, a snide tongue-in-cheek jab at individuals who would ignorantly (or capriciously) agree with Ozymandias’ so-called justification, essentially ridicules such individuals’ intellectual laziness. If it were to have clearly stated its intention, it would have read: “Put aside your mind on this issue, and judge instead with your heart. The heart and the mind are separate entities, as are your feelings and your thoughts, and only you feelings—your heart—can tell you what‘s right, not your mind.” This would be followed by a parenthetical note: (Moron!)

It is no coincidence that at the end of the final confrontation, Nite Owl says to Ozymandias, “You think you’ve changed mankind for the better? The joke is on you.”

Without the masked vigilantes, Dr. Manhattan, or Ozymandias’ scheme, would humans have blown up the whole world and everything in it? We are supposed to assume that they would have. But why? How are humans represented in the movie? Are they intelligent, rational, productive people? Or do you instead see the streets littered with sad whores, goons, and violent mobs? And what of the government leaders and their role in the general disorder? What of the masked vigilantes who take justice into their own hands? Is it the incompetence of government sanctioned agencies that drive them to do what they do? This movie is so rife with meaning that I will have more to say on all this in the subsequent sections of this analysis.

Watchmen, Subtle Criticism: Great Work of Art (1st post)

Great works of art exist in a variety of forms. There are works, such as Ayn Rand’s brilliant novel, Atlas Shrugged, which are in no way unclear about their message and about which it would be logically impossible to interpret something other than what they actually spell out. Works such as these make no bones about their assessments of morality and are, as in the case of Atlas Shrugged, effective and powerful modes of conveying meaning. For the person confronting such a work, the experience can be antagonizing—even devastating—to his worldview or it can be an intense substantiation of his values.

There also exist great works of art that are more subtle in their moral commentary. Such works are able to provide a no less powerful experience to those who confront them. Remarkably, even though it may seem that this type of work attempts to maintain moral neutrality or say something other than what it truly means, its ability to convey a message about morality is not minimized or confounded by the subtle nature of its commentary. Because it does not overtly delineate a position, such a work demands that each individual grapple independently with the morality depicted. Moreover, while it may initially allow for varied interpretations (like a Rorschach test), if it consistently maintains the integrity of the philosophical premises presented within it and allows these to develop logically to their conclusions, it will eventually leave no doubt about its meaning.

The brilliance of Watchmen, the recent film based on the comic book series by Alan Moore, lies in its status as the latter type of work. If you saw the film, you might have left the theater somewhat discontented or puzzled. You might have thought the movie went on too long, or that the violent scenes were too violent, or that the story's denouement was, perhaps, anticlimactic. You might even have wondered why world peace at the end of the movie didn’t quite give you the sense that you had witnessed a happy ending. Also, you might have asked yourself why, of all things, did the movie end with a close-up of Rorschach’s journal, and what was the significance of that? Despite these lingering, disquieting thoughts, after watching Watchmen, you might have felt there was something important about it, something you could not place your finger on. Roger Ebert, to my surprise, had this to say:

The film is rich enough to be seen more than once. I plan to see it again, this time on IMAX, and will have more to say about it. I’m not sure I understood all the nuances and implications, but I am sure I had a powerful experience.

After just one watch (I ended up watching it three times—once on IMAX—because I liked it so much), there was no doubt in my mind that Watchmen was replete with meaning. However, it was also clear that it might take perspicacity to analyze it completely. Artistically, Watchmen is incredibly significant. Culturally, especially today, it is remarkably relevant.

Because I will soon be speaking about some of the comedic or satirical (i.e., destructive and inversionary) aspects of Watchmen, and conversely, about the seriousness of its implications, it is important to first turn the reader's attention to the nature of humor and laughter. Ayn Rand defined humor as “the denial of metaphysical importance to that which you laugh at.” What this means is simply that when one laughs at or about something, one is essentially denying it intellectual or conceptual legitimacy (importance) and demeaning it as undeserving of consideration as a serious topic. In extreme cases, it is an object of ridicule. In more benign cases, it is a trivial or frivolous matter, easily dismissed or “laughed off.” Elsewhere, Rand states that “humor is not an unconditional virtue; its moral character depends on its object. To laugh at the contemptible [provided that you take it seriously, but occasionally permit yourself to laugh at it] is a virtue; to laugh at the good [or at the destruction of the good, the beautiful, the true, the rational, etc...] is a hideous vice.” What you find humorous says more about you than you might have imagined (again, think of a Rorschach test).

Recall that at the end of Watchmen, after Ozymandias' scheme has been executed, and Veidt Industries seems to have monopolized the whole of New York (symbolic for the rest of the world?), we see and hear the opening to the old television show, “The Outer Limits.” Did you find this humorous? Also recall that at the end, the world has reached the bizarre condition that leads the newspaper editor to complain, “It's like the whole world is living in a hippie commune!” Did you find this humorous? Finally, recall the billboard just before this scene, which can be seen for only a few seconds and reads, “In Your Hearts, You Know It’s Right!” This slogan is superimposed on the American flag. If you found it even slightly humorous, you are one step ahead of the game. (Post 2 will be posted soon.)

Total silliness

Ok, so sometimes I just let myself. Sometimes I allow myself to be as silly as possible and fantasize about what "it" would be like. But I never let it get too far. I always know the reality of the situation, so I never really lose my grip.

It's nice to fantasize once in a while. Maybe, someday, that fantasy will be a reality, but I have to work at it.

:-)

Fat. REALLY fat.

Sometimes I think that I am subconsciously TRYING to MAKE myself fat.

I was coming home tonight on the bus and talking on the phone with Carrie Bradshaw (Umair). Neither taking the bus home nor talking on the phone with Carrie is out of the ordinary for me, but these details are important to set up the scene, so to speak. So I was talking with Carrie while riding the bus and suddenly, I had a frightful thought; I don't keep sweets at home (because whenever I do, I eat em all on the same day!), and if I go straight home, I'm going to CRAVE something sweet, and I've been craving sweet stuff for, like, two days!!! I could NOT go on deferring gratification. I mean, WHY should I? Right?

Carrie and I carried on about our hair appointments tomorrow and other funny minutia we experienced throughout the evening (we hadn't spoken in about 4 hours... we had a lot of catching up to do!), but I got off the bus two stops before my actual stop, JUST so I could go to the gas station (I know, the GAS station. I mean, seriously!) to purchase some chocolaty goodies! Now, Carrie had no clue what I was up to, since she was engaged in the conversation, but the moment I started walking towards the gas station, I felt the need to confess.

-"OMG, Carrie, I got off a couple stops early so I could go to the gas station and buy some CHOCOLATE!"
-"Oh, good! What are you gonna to get?"
-"No, Carrie, NAWT good! BAAAAAAAAAAD! Why am I going to buy chocolate so late?"
-"Oh... cause you had a craving, and cravings are MEANT to be sated!"

Obviously, Carrie Bradshaw was not the person I should have been talking to at that moment. What I needed at that moment was someone who, in his or her MOST judgmental tone, would have said to me, "SERIOUSLY?" You know, someone like The Titi-T.

OOOOOOOORRRR... I needed to say that to myself!

Ugh.

So, I kept chatting with Carrie, who kept telling me there was nothing wrong with what I was doing, and I went into the gas station, waddled towards the candy aisle, and stood there a bit to consider what I was going to get. I saw Mr. Goodbar. I like Mr. Goodbar because out of the Hershey's family, it's the bar, I think, that tastes most like real chocolate. So, when I saw Mr. Goodbar, I grabbed him. But then I noticed a display of STRAWBERRY CHARLESTON CHEWs! Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a sucker for artificially flavored strawberry anything.

Now, I was in a pickle. Should I take Mr. Goodbar, or should I take the STRAWBERRY Charleston Chew? I haven't had a Charleston Chew in ages, and I haven't had a Strawberry Charleston chew... EVER! But then, Mr. Goodbar was kinda what I came here for, and I love Mr. Goodbar. So what did I do? I took both.

But wait! That's NOT ALL!

So THEN, seeing as I was already doing some considerable damage, I thought, WELL, why not just move in for the kill? So without even second guessing myself, I grabbed a bag of M&M's, the Peanut Butter ones, and a (New!) Dark Chocolate M&M's with peanuts!

I wish that had been it.

I then turned around and looked at the single pack cookies. You know, the ones that cost $1.29 per cookie and have those pretty images of cookies on the front of the package? Well, it was then that I did the UNTHINKABLE. I grabbed the Hershey's ULTIMATE Soft Baked Cookie!

At the counter was the girl who works overnight at the gas station. She's always there and it seems like she'd be a very good employee, in that she's reliable, but she's not very friendly. I mean, she's not RUDE, but she's definitely not friendly. I know her. She knows me. But when she sees me, she simply takes my things, charges me for them, puts them in a bag, tells me my total, and collects my money. If I have change, she places it squarely in my hand, but neither says "thank you" NOR "you're welcome" in response to MY "thank you."

So there she was again. If it had been a scene in an old Western movie, or some dramatic scene in another kind of film, this is the moment where I'd say, "So. We meet again." (Cue the music.) However, the only music playing was some bullshit on the retardo radio (Love FM or some bullcrap) and there was no drama to the whole event until I saw the total. It was, like, FIVE DOLLARS! Drama.

Just consider it for a moment. I came in here thinking I'd spend a dollar on a candy bar that would gratify my craving for something chocolaty. My total ended up being 5 bucks and some change! It's NOT that 5 dollars is a lot of money, especially in this government-induced, over-inflated, recessed economy. It's that 5 dollars is a lot of money to spend on candy that I was about to eat as soon as I got home!!!

(Enid, a character in Sex & The City The Movie would say, "A dollar, yes. Five dollars, no. At least not without the unintended Diane Arbus subtext!")

My phone conversation with Carrie continued until I got to the door of my apartment. We said goodnight to each other and made plans to call or text in the morning. I walked in and ate my snacks in quick succession, like some kind of drug addict getting his fix.

Suddenly I looked at the detritus of opened packages before me on the kitchen table and started to wonder at the damage I'd done... so, I did some math.

The cookie, Hershey's Ultimate Soft Baked Cookie, has a serving size of 1/2. Half a cookie???? WHO EATS HALF A COOKIE??? The Calories per serving are 170, which means that the calories per cookie are 340! Which makes the Calories from fat, NOT 70, but 140! The total fat PER SERVING is 8g, which means I had 16g. Also, instead of 3 grams of Saturated Fat, I had 6!

In total, with the cookie, the Mr. Goodbar, the Charleston Chew, and the TWO packs of M&Ms, I consumed (calculating serving size I ate, not Serving size per container):

1,280 Calories! 560 Calories from FAT
65 Grams of FAT, AND
31 Grams of SATURATED FAT!

I did some calculating online and according to the numbers, in order to simply MAINTAIN my current weight, I would need to consume 2172 calories per day! If that's so, I ate MORE than half of my required intake! If my intention were to lose weight, which it OBVIOUSLY is not, my required consumption would ONLY be about 1740 calories per day!!! That's ONLY 460 calories away from what I consumed in 5 pieces of chocolate snacks, and I CERTAINLY went over that since dinner today consisted of two medium-small fillets of dijon and herb crusted salmon with brown rice... plus whatever I had before that, which included a bag and a half of Trader Joe's Crisps chips, which wouldn't have been TOO bad if one bag and a half were a serving and a half and not SIX servings.... OY VEY!

I'm gonna cry.

Why do I DO THIS to myself? And why does Carrie choose to be so nice to me? Carrie! I shoe-shame, hair-shame, manicure-shame, pedicure-shame, bottled water-shame, and even foot lotion-shame YOU! The LEAST you could do is FAT-SHAME me! (What's the line from the show? "Carrie, I really don't think we should have to pay for your extravagant lifestyle.")

Where's Anthony Marantino when you NEED him? "Look at the size of that GUT! Well, at least we know she's eatin' somethin'..."

Until I started doing the math, it did not really occur to me HOW much harm I did to myself by eating all that crap!

A perceptive reader might be able to see the implications of this type of behavior. I'm not giving it away to the ones who don't get it. All I'll say is, how ANTI-CONCEPTUAL do I have to be to think that by ignoring the facts about my fat gain (which at this point is, realistically, not out of control), I can escape the consequences!? I might as well be a savage, who instead of trying to get away from an erupting volcano, kneels down and prays to an invisible god to spare him, before the lava rolls down the side of the volcano and incinerates his body.

In my case, it's the fat that's rolling through my body... and instead of incinerating it, it's just coagulating around my waist. Gosh I'm dumb. And then Carrie wonders why I wear billowy shirts...

In Sex & The City The Movie, Samantha says to her girlfriends, "I eat, so I don't cheat," which is why she has gained a little extra weight towards the end of the movie.

If I were Samantha (and apparently I am), my line would be something like, "I eat, and then I cheat. And then I cheat some more. And then I eat some more!" But the only person I'm cheating on is myself. Gosh I'm fed up!

Seriously, I'm DONE!

Slumdog Millionaire (Contains Spoilers)

This past fall, I went to see Happy Go Lucky, a film by Mike Leigh, the infamous "slice of life" writer/film director. The fact that it was written by him should have been fair warning, but being the eternal optimist that I am, and noting that the tagline of the film was, "The one movie this fall that will put a smile on your face," I thought I'd give it a try. I like to smile! However, when I left the cinema that day, I turned to one of my movie companions, sans smile, and said, "contemporary movies are like men today, the ones that could be great, usually disappoint."

Last night, I saw Slumdog Millionaire. I really wanted to love this film. I was surprised at the positive reviews it had received. In this day an age, I thought, films with happy endings and real heroes aren't ever praised. After watching the film myself, I understood why it received good reviews from retarded film critics.

Unfortunately, I merely LIKED Slumdog Millionaire (another disappointment... *sigh*). As far as films go, what could have been a shining light ends up being a little flicker in the dark murk of today's cinema. It is certainly a well-made film with a consistent hero, consistent villains, clear distinctions between good and evil, (one villain even has a realization, and a change of heart!), a struggle, a climax, a romantic storyline, but it left me with unanswered questions.

The main questions were, who is Latika, the object of Jamal's affection? Why does he love her? What makes her worthy of his love; the fact that she's so pretty? We don't get enough of her. I wanted to like her, but why should I? And how?

The film's motor is the love story. Love becomes Jamal's primary motivation, his highest value, and the achievement of that value is what keeps him going, but Latika seems to make some questionable choices in her life. This makes Jamal's desire questionable, if not superficial.

If I was to believe what the film wants me to believe, I'd believe that, "deep down inside, Latika is still that innocent little girl, the nameless third Musketeer." But is she? Choosing Jamal's brother in the hotel scene is either a horrible, lustful mistake, or an act of a martyr for a boy she loves. Either way, the choice stains her character because it demonstrates that either a.) she wanted Jamal's brother, or b.) she chose to live with the fact that she gave her body to a man she did not love, to save the one she did. If you chose B, then what you are saying is, "you CAN rape the willing!" But can you? When you consider it, you inevitably end up raising an eyebrow, and choosing A. That was MY final answer.

Later, when Jamal asks her to escape from a horrid relationship with a rich, yet violent man, her answer was something like, "And go where? To live on what?" I wished Jamal had asked, "You prefer THIS?"

The fact that she has chosen her life is proven later by the fact that she successfully escapes. Yes, it took Jamal's bad guy brother, after realizing that he wronged Jamal and that he owed him, to persuade her do the one thing she could do to save her own life. But the question remains, what would have happened if he hadn't persuaded and helped her escape? Given what we see in the movie, no answer is possible.

Any piece of literature shows you, via a character's choices, who that character essentially is. This is no different in a film. And since the story is about Jamal, and it is told from a third person point of view, which means that we the audience know what Jamal knows, it left me wondering, did I miss something? What does Jamal know about Latika that we don't?

Instead of amplifying the story, the romance deflates it. The film ends up flat, devoid of any moral substance, and therefore, any real meaning. It turns Latika into another pretty, yet brainless fairy tale representation of a woman, a kind of Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, awaiting rescue by a handsome prince who will come, someday. When considered thusly, the best thing about the movie, unfortunately for me, was that at least he was a VERY handsome prince.

:-\

Some Observations About People I've Met

In the past, I was the kind of person who sought out friendships with strangers. I thought that if I joined this club, or did that activity, or went to one place or another, that I’d meet people who were like me, and that I’d be able to form meaningful friendships. I never remained in contact with people I met in such indiscriminate ways.

At one point I realized that the best way to meet people is through personal social interactions with very specific people, for whom I felt an intellectual or emotional attraction. Generally, these people will introduce me to a friend or two of theirs, thereby expanding my personal network in small, select increments. That’s not to say that you can’t randomly meet perfectly nice people, but I’m talking about the best way to meet them.

Today, I’d say I have limited contact with people, because I don’t meet many new people on a daily basis, and even if I am introduced to friends of friends, I’m still very judicious about who I want to include in my personal circle. Even so, I have been able to draw certain conclusions about people, based on my interactions with them, and I‘ve been meaning to write about my observations.

It seems that most individuals can be divided into three camps. First, there are the retards, who have long since given up using their brains, and neurotically hold on to some ideology they nebulously regard as right, in the face of serious questions about the dubiousness of the ideology and their motivations for choosing it.

These people live with fear of the ever-present threat that with a single pull of a string, their faulty ideological constructions, already falling apart at the seams, will unravel completely. They can only hope that others will not notice the flaws in the mess of contradictions they wear, with a self-righteous air of superiority as a metaphoric pin used to flimsily hold everything together.

Second, there are those who think and do the right thing despite constantly being told they‘re wrong by the contradictory nonsense proclaimed in academia, in popular culture, in politics, in the media, at religious congregations, and even by their own friends. They are overwhelmed by the conflicting, conflated, contradictory concepts that are tossed, like confetti, all around them, and are unable to see the source of the pseudo-celebratory debris being poured on them from above.

These are the individuals who once knew, perhaps when they were younger, on a pre-conscious level (what Ayn Rand termed, a Sense Of Life) that they were right to pursue their values. However, they have consigned themselves to being “immoral,” according to everyone else, which really means that they value themselves and their own lives, and refuse to view themselves or others as the sacrificial fodder to some invisible god, or a threat like “Global Warming,” or an abstract entity like “The Environment,” or a vague “social problem” like “Poverty.”

I find these individuals to be the most tragic because they seem to comprehend, on some level, that their way of life is the right one, and they work hard and do well, yet they allow society’s prevailing morality to loot their minds and accuse them of “selfishness,” a term used as a weapon of intimidation in order to disarm them and diminish their self-esteem and sense of moral worth. They are like Promethean heroes, showing lesser men the light and goodness of the world, yet condemned, in their own minds and the minds of others, to suffer for their virtues. (Their vision of a hero is embodied in representations like that of Batman in the movie, Dark Knight, which ends with Batman fleeing the very people he risks his life to defend.) I should add that this type of person is an psycho-epistemological jump, hop, and skip away from becoming like the first type, completely retarded.

The third types are the ones that give me hope, because like the tragic individuals I just mentioned, these individuals also know, but in a less abstract way, that their way of life is the right one. However, I have found that these individuals have not yet given up hope. They have a clearer idea of the difference between right and wrong, but under the same barrage of attacks on their self-esteem, their problem lies in their lack of confidence to believe the indubitable conclusions they have reached via their own observations. They seem unable to rely completely on their own judgment.

I find that these people are desperate for validation. They need to hear someone they trust say to their enemy, “No. You’re the one who’s wrong.” They need that same trustworthy person to tell them, “my friend, you’re absolutely right.” (That is, if they actually are right.)

It seems I've unintentionally achieved that position. The third type of person trusts me. He wants to hear what I have to say. He is eager to hear--because he feels the same way but has never been able to articulate it quite so well--my opinions on topics ranging from Shakespeare to sex and beyond.

The retards are intimidated by the things I say, and protest or act out against me, literally. The tragi-heroes listen with slight indifference because they’ve already accepted their fatalistic view of life, and they believe that whatever happens was gonna happen anyway. But the eager, happy, joyous people, who either become my friends or simply like me upon meeting me, will listen to the things I say and usually laugh with the most genuinely happy laughter, reveling in the validation of their values.

Although I know that I think and say the right things, because I trust my mind and have confidence in my intelligence, it’s still very nice, almost congratulatory, to hear someone’s laughter when I make a joke. Their laughter tells me they approve, and agree, and that they like me, which is very good, since I’m SUCH a lovely person, and they SHOULD like MAYE!

;-)

SPEAK

It's true. When you speak up, with friends or anyone else with whom you're having a conversation, and you know what you're talking about, people listen.

I have found this to be true at parties, in one-on-one conversations, and other social situations.

The people who don't know what THEY'RE talking about always seem to pipe down. So funny!

Scuse maye?

What was I thinking in that last post?

Ewwww....

Anyway, back to my normal self. :-)

Kiss

I'm restless tonight, but not the way I sometimes get.

Ever get the feeling you want to kiss someone?

The thing is, I wouldn't be happy kissing just anyone. However, I have no one in particular in mind.

Too much time to let my mind wander, I guess.