I bow to the buddha of popular culture and media. No. Really.
I just finished watching what was very likely an utterly forgettable movie called “The Ugly Truth”. It’s overdone, it’s cliche, it’s stereotypical, hell, it’s even predictable. Maybe that’s the point… it’s an ugly truth.
The thing is, I recognize both stereotypes. Heh. Hell, I’m one of them taken to the ridiculous extreme. Which is, I think, what made it so ugly and so much fun to watch. It caused me to realize something… I take this entire area of human relation and interaction much, much too seriously. Worst of all, I take it seriously for all the wrong reasons.
It doesn’t matter how much “cause” I think I have, or even if I’m “right”. “Right” and “Wrong” are perspectives, never absolutes. I’m laughing because it seems it takes a ridiculous caricature of it all to flip the switch on something that has effectively been THE stall point in this realm for my entire life.
How sadly hilarious!
The old koan goes, “What is the sound of enlightenment?” I think it must be silence. Only the paradoxical humor of the answer does the question any justice whatever.
La Brea is burbling great, sticky globs of resonance; shockwave passing and the tiny spark of insight will take some time to settle. I’m not sure it does any good whatever to talk about it, since the only one who will ever really “get” what I mean (outside of random empathy) is me, but, for what it’s worth, a rather impressive bootstrap has initiated.
Eventually, this will mean something. At the moment, it’s just a thought.
Lookout world. (chuckle)
p.s.: I’m not a fannish sort, but it is (to me) worth noting that Gerard Butler is about the closest thing to T.M.W.D.E. that I’ve ever seen. Slay me for those eyes. Hah. What a perfect moment to have this lesson delivered by the Animus practically incarnate. Bow to the buddha, indeed. Oh, karma, you’re such a lovely bitch.
p.p.s.: I am reminded of a recent comment, delivered by one already slipped over the horizon; a victim of impressionist humanity, “I showed some of your writing to my friends at work. If you ever decide to switch to women, half my office is in love with you.” It made me laugh in the moment, mostly because I was flush with the idea that this one actually saw me, understood, and was unafraid. Turns out I was wrong on all counts, but the sense of it in conjunction with this moment brings a somewhat bittersweet laughter. All the same, in the early morning, sitting here, typing, I find it pensive; a wry grin for my singular interests in men… likely just as well; I don’t think the solar flare burns any less for gender (I know I’ve scorch marks of my own to lend as proof) and it wouldn’t matter to me if it did. Alas? No. Just saying.