Paper Boats

Frankly, I didn't want to grow up. 

It's often a comment of the old and wizened that youth is wasted on the young. Not me, I knew how good I had it when I was a kid and I informed my mother that I was simply not going to grow up. Worked for Peter Pan. 

My Mom wished me luck with my endeavor to remain a kid forever, but said I probably didn't have much of a choice. Since I was having trouble finding the second star on the left and flying pixie dust. I was forced to concede this point, but under protest. 

I've found that "growing up" is actually code for "having bills" and that the measure of maturity is whether you pay them on time or at all. By this definition I have, to the disappointment of my younger self, grown up into a mature adult. But, I am still protesting. I believe there is a much missed element of adult-ness, which can be discovered by a simple shift in perspective. 

An ant's view of the world is radically different from mine, for example. Mostly because ants don't have to worry about paying back student loans, but then I don't have to worry about being eaten by birds, so I suppose it evens out. The point is as adults we can become so stuck in a certain perspective of the world. What was it about being a kid that was so alluring (besides the obvious lack of financial responsibility)? It's being able to look at the world with a constant shifting perspective.

What we often lack, is whimsy. That innate ability to view the world by the second instead of by the hour. Whenever there is any real conundrum, or question of what it is we are all doing milling about on this planet rocketing through space, the answer is never to pay our bills. Whimsy is what changes a puddle into a sea to sail paper boats upon. 

How to Make Paper Boats

Malevolent Movie Montages

Frankly,I've discovered the downfall of western civilization. Oh, western civilization hasn't fallen? I must be mistaken, you say? Just wait. 

The "Love" Montage

Eventually society will crumble at the relentless inundation of the inescapable movie montage. They're everywhere, like ladybugs in June.  Only, to expand the metaphor, they actually turn out to be those Asian Beetles that only look like cute lovable ladybugs, until they bite you. And so is the stealthy deception of the movie montage. 

Montages did not always have a plot to brainwash and control the multi-media watching public. Originally it was just a clever cinematography tool to mark the passing of time within a story. But like so many a science fiction innocent experiment gone wrong, it's taken on a life of its own. 

There are whole genres of montage. The love montage was the pioneer. It's now the backbone of romantic comedy. The artfully pasted together string of interactions that illustrate a couple falling in love accompanied by a befitting song. Not to be out done, the memory montage came on the scene as an intriguing way to character build. After that it was really a free-for-all. 

You can't escape the montage, it's in all major motion pictures, the history channel, crime show dramas, sit-coms, TLC was basically created on the principle (enter the "work" montage, and the "make over" montage), even the news. I'm beginning to believe it's effecting my subconscious and influencing my brain patterns.

I knew it'd gone too far when I discovered yet another sub genre of montage. The thinking montage; which consists of a cloud of ideas, numbers and translucent images being connected while swirling around a characters head. I fell in love with this montage, I would put out a bulletin to others to notify me if one came up. I found myself wishing I had thinking montages. 

Then it hit me. The montage will ruin us all. Montages tell us lies. They shrink things like character building, remodeling, history, dating, and now even complex thought into the space of 45 seconds with soundtrack. And where I know the montage is just a construct, it doesn't stop me from wanting my own love montage to the song "Short Skirt/Long Jacket" by Cake.

The "Thinking" Montage Photo Credit: http://theoriginalspy.blogspot.com

Montages have become our society's waking dreams. The bits and pieces of what we wish could be, actualized. And like dreams, they can only retain malevolence if you aren't aware you're in the thrall of one. Oh great movie montage, whisper more sweet nothing in our ears. 

Et tu Brute?

Frankly, politics hasn't progressed far past the bloody knife laden plots of Rome. Surely, I jest, you say, we've civilized democracy in the western world. Are you quite sure? Seems like plenty of people are feeling the sharp pains of betrayal these days . . . 

Julius Caesar, the play penned by William Shakespeare is my guide to politics. If you haven't had the pleasure to view it on the stage somewhere, I highly recommend it as possibly the most accessible and still culturally relevant play in Shakespeare's folio. I know Shakespeare isn't really everyone's native language, but luckily I speak fluent Shakespearean. So, I'll translate.

The plot is as follows; power incites fear from the loyal, creating political struggle, political struggle begets action, action spurs a public reaction, public reaction evolves to public unrest, public unrest is resolved by political rhetoric, political rhetoric sways public opinion, public opinion is used to amass power. Repeat. 

The political wheels of our dear modern age turn in very similar ways, I've noticed. Granted the modern version generally has less knives and murder involved, which is a definite plus for us. I would like to bring the focus to the political rhetoric spokes of these wheels and its' effect on inciting, resolving and swaying the public (that's us). Brutus was lost as Anthony spoke his first line "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears." Brutus had swayed the public, incited them to action,  but he hadn't learned that having the right words is just as valuable as having the last ones. 

This is what I like to keep in mind when we, the public, are incited, swayed, enraged, to display our unrest with the political leanings of the time. These are old wheels, that have been turning for thousands of years, on the cart of democracy; and we, the public, are neither the horses that power it nor the road on which it treads, remember we sit in atop that cart holding the reins. 

For the Love of Hermits

Frankly, I am perplexed. I am well aware that I'm an odd person, odder than the regular allotted portion of oddness allowed by social norms. But, is it really so weird to love hermits?

Okay, it's not like I have a hermit photo collage on my wall (even if I wanted to I probably wouldn't, it's hard to get photos of hermits for obvious reasons).  I've got a bit of a crush on the lifestyle, not any individual hermit, per say. The more I think about it the more I'm convinced that the hermit way is a good one.

The secret is in the solitude. The traditional hermit has been reduced to an image of a crusty, bearded character-usually missing teeth,  but the allure is not in the hermit but the hermitage. The place which the hermit resides, alone. The solitude. Solitude in not loneliness. Solitude is being content with your own company. There is something about being alone that is extremely frightening to the modern world. 

I find this fear everywhere. As if social networking, and the invention of the "status update" weren't proof enough. As a society we are so afraid to be alone we will connect with complete strangers, just to connect. Even if that connection is meaningless.  I hear it particularly related to those of my friends that are single, or rather trying to avoid being single. Solitude is the answer. If you don't want to hang out with you, than why should any one else? 

But what's the difference, if the result is still - alone?   Fret not, it's simple. Loneliness is something forced on you, you choose solitude. In that choice is the magic of being able to be by yourself without feeling that something is missing. I find my optimum solace in the dead of the night, when my house is sleeping. I can curl up with book, a cup of tea, a sketchbook whatever pleases me and just swim around in my own thoughts. Try solitude in small doses, it's quickly addicting. 

I'm not thrilled with the entire cabala of the Hermitage, while I will delight in my solitude stolen in the gloaming hours of night and continue to day dream of a hermit's life, you won't find me wandering the woods in rope sandals just yet.