Piersona

Happening: Thought: Death And Place

2009-08-12T16:36:00.003-05:00

I find myself, at this moment, sitting in a building where someone, today, has taken their own life. I do not know details beyond that and wouldn't share them if I did. But the reaction of the people here has made me understand why society should (and has) concerned itself with the prevention of suicide.

The tragedy of this moment stains this place not just for those close to the victim, but for everyone for whom The David A. Cofrin library is a workplace, campus fixture, and place of learning. The difficulty of the feelings this incident has forced these people toward cannot be measured and will not soon pass.

We all experience tragedy and death differently. And yet, there is a very distinct and indentically human look in the eye of everyone here. I can only describe it as a very specific mixture of shock, sadness, awe, and confusion. And the difficulty lies within resolving this myriad of emotions all at once. I do not know if it can be done. I think I now better understand why grief is a process.

Me: Artistic Epiphany: Imitative Editing

2009-05-29T12:12:00.003-05:00

When first learning to write, especially in college, students are given license to imitate a standing author in order to successfully find their own voice. This method has a mixed measure of success and can often lead the student down a very, very wrong path. The primary pitfall of this is: you often don't write like what you like.

I have always gravitated toward dark speculative fiction. I enjoyed the paranoia and agitation of Edgar Allen Poe as a young man and often daydreamed about penning lurid tales of slow and enthralling descents into madness. And it has remained a day dream. I enjoy, the Poe, the Bradbury, and the Barker, because they imagine in a way that I can not. It is the very fact that I cannot simulate their gifts which draws me back to them again and again. So sadly, my attempts to imitate them are some of the most frustrating and disappointing forays into writing I have ever experienced. It appears that imitative writing is not a viable path toward successful writing for me. So what now?

I think I've found my inspiration in a technique I've dubbed, "imitative editing". Imitative editing is my new method for allowing my true artistic intentions and sentiments to reveal themselves through a two step process. The first part is simple, I write a first draft without thought or concern about style. I simply write it out. "Jane went to the store." That's step number one. Then, I begin the process of editing with a single thought in mind. "How would Bradbury punch this up." Obviously, one can choose any author one likes.

Bradbury likes to tap right into your psyche by using general and very accessible terms. However, he rolls them out in a an extraordinarily effective manner. Take this excerpt from Dandelion Wine:

It was a quiet morning, the town covered over with darkness and at ease in bed. Summer gathered in the weather, the wind had the proper touch, the breathing of the world was long and warm and slow. You had only to rise, lean from your window, and know that this indeed was the first real time of freedom and living, this was the first morning of summer.

The prose itself moves from dreamy restfulness to bright-eyed wakefulness. We move from "quiet", "darkness", and "ease" to "freedom and living". Therefore I, like Bradbury, will take my reader through a transition with which they are familiar, while informing them of the world of my story. For the flourishing of detail needed to turn my lifeless, "Jane went to the store", sentence into something Bradburyesque I will use a tool I picked up from John August's blog. The Supersentence. So with the magic of this indispensable writing tool and my mission to edit as though I were Bradbury, my sentence becomes:

"Charged by her mother with the task of grocery shopping, Jane leaped from the stale dusty air of the house into summer daylight and bolted toward Bucky's Market. The sunlight felt clean and tingled her skin. But soon the moisture of the air surrounded her and squeezed her small body like a damp kitchen sponge in her mother's fist. Jane hit the door at Bucky's and the glacier of dry, cold air knocked the wind out of her. She shivered her way through her mother's list in the great white grocery aisles."

As deft as Bradbury? Surely not. But I have a far better idea of the story I'm trying to tell. And that's how I think you find your voice, by understanding the story you want to tell.

Me: Renewed Appreciation: Sense Of Smell

2009-04-04T08:30:00.004-05:00

I know it's quirky, but I like to eat breakfast. I like to have something more substatntial than a gut full of liquid caffeine at the day's starting line.

I kissed the light of my life before she departed on her next great adventure and pushed three girl scout cookies into my maw with the unbridled enthusiasm of a kid pumping quarters into a Pac-man machine circa 1982. Then I looked at the ingredients. Whoops.

Then it was out the door, bounding down the alley toward the local gas station to get my molten hot and watered-down liquid caffiene. As I approached the street, I smelled something. It smelled good. It smelled like food. A thought occured, what did those cookies smell like? I don't think they smelled of anything more than the packaging.

I now have a new standard by which to judge the food I consume. Does it smell like food? If I don't experience the visceral excitation that flashes through me when my nose is in the presence of food, then I'm not eating it.

Me: Cultural Epiphany: News Is Not Narrative

2009-03-24T16:25:00.005-05:00

Some time has passed since Rihanna and Chris Brown's violent altercation. The passage of time has not quelled the public hunger for even the most trivial details of their private lives. Violence and sex entice even the most dispassionate into a frenzy of ravenous voyeurism.

The omnipresence and ease of the Internet grants publishing powers to almost anyone who could wish for them. This has given rise to entirely new kind of entertainment reporter, the amateur paparazzi. Celebrity tracking is no longer strictly for insiders, elites, and tabloids. An ordinary citizen can run and fill a celebrity tracking blog with as little as a cellphone camera and a Twitter account. However, the availability of information doesn't necessarily translate to the consumption of that information. So why is the minutiae of Chris Brown and Rihanna suddenly so compelling? Because it looks like a television show. On Lifetime.

This "story" and a movie on Lifetime have considerable textual similarities. A Lifetime movie often presents us with celebrities (in the guise of a character) confronted with the consequences of a combination of physical, psychological, and sexual abuses. Many of us have learned that this is simply idle amusement to be consumed with little thought or questioning. Chris Brown and Rihanna play the parts of victimized woman and abusive man. The public then does as it's been trained and suspends disbelief and accepts the social interaction of domestic violence as a spectacle of entertainment. Violence against women is an acceptable and extremely common go-to plot device. People who could not be bothered to care who these two were before the incident are now riveted, waiting to find out what happens next. We don't look away because this looks like something at which we're meant to stare. Hypnotized.

This post is not an indictment of Lifetime. Violence against women is the plot dynamo of any number of episodes of popular television shows with a conceptual conceit of realism. Choose any episode of the many permutations of CSI or Law and Order. These shows not only offer references, but are often centered squarely on the subject.

But this is life. There will be no decisively joyous or tragic outcome. The credits aren't going to roll and snap us from our Pavlovian paralysis. So every detail takes on a sharp new significance. Why is Rihanna shopping for a house without Mr. Brown? It must be symbolic of her desire to end the relationship. It must have significance or it wouldn't be in the story. But news is not narrative. When it is interpreted as such there can be dangerous consequences. Imagine if the totality of public knowledge of sex came from popular television shows. I'll let the tragic consequences of that sit with you.

Do we need to develop, as a society, a toolkit for understanding television as a medium? Is the answer to the cries of quivering parents, not the control of the medium, but simply a more complete understanding of it? A multitude of tools and literature exist to educate oneself or children on nearly every facet of sexual behavior. That is an interesting inequity. Society has gone to great lengths to provide educational materials which provide practical and useful knowledge regarding sex and sexuality. But it has not done so in regard to violence. There are no violence education classes. Within which, domestic violence or "family" violence could be appropriately addressed. Scare tactics and misinformation neither curb interest nor alleviate the dangers of sex. Why would it work for violence? Why are we content to teach ourselves about violence through television?

Is poor storytelling the real danger of television?

And that's where a mention of Chris Brown and Rihanna led me today.

Not A Review: Film: Watchmen

2009-03-11T11:36:00.005-05:00

Give me smallest finger on man's hand. I'll produce information. Computer unnecessary. ~Rorshach~

Despite the fact that I begin this discussion with a quote from the graphic novel which does not, as I recall, appear in the movie, I'm not at all interested in comparing the book and the movie. I'm really only concerned with evaluating the movie as a piece of cinema. In my experience, very little is gained by making a comparison of a particular narrative in different formats. And what is gained in the case of films based on comic books is usually polarizing fan boy drivel. If you are looking for a well written and accessible review of Watchmen, look here.

Watchmen seems to play with some fairly standard archetypes of philosophy. These archetypes appear as the principle characters in the film. The overall plot of Watchmen is determined wholly by the characters. Therefore, I have decided to focus my comments and questions on the characters alone.

Dr. Manhattan is, for lack of my desire to disregard my own interpretation, God. He is a God created by science and a God of science. He is master of the forces which generated him. In other words, Dr. Manhattan is a completely potentiated entity. I can't actually think of a better definition of God. As the film progresses, he is further and further divorced from the human perspective. He becomes less and less able to maintain relationships or understand human emotional states. However, humans are still capable of influencing him. This brings me to the first question I'd like to discuss. Given that the standard vision of God is that of an entity who can be influenced or persuaded through prayer, does that make Dr. Manhattan more godlike? More specifically, is the journey of Dr. Manhattan's character that of a man who is made godlike and eventually becomes God?

The Night Owl, on the other hand, is the Everyman. My interpretation is that even though he undergoes a radical, perspective altering change, and gains a sort of ultimate knowledge, he is almost as impotent at the end of the film as at the beginning. The movement of the character from a state of sexual bumbling to seemingly extreme sexual prowess establishes this change for the viewer in very certain and extravagant terms. That's the best aesthetic argument for the pornographic proportions of the Night Owl/Silk Spectre II sex scene I can come to. It's a physical epiphany. The soundtrack in the scene would seem to support that assertion. The Night Owl is unable to render the greater truth he witnesses into any meaningful expression. Additionally, despite his transformation, he is powerless to prevent a single death, including that of his friend who is not only able to communicate the truth but compelled to do so. Is the film whispering to us that the ordinary man's greatest achievement is that though he may witness world shaping events, he must carry the significance of those events alone? Is truth with a capital T something which can only be experienced and never conveyed by language?

Silk Spectre II communes with the God figure (Dr. Manhattan), but ultimately chooses to couple with the Everyman. Why? Seemingly because an emotionally nourishing relationship with the God figure is impossible. However, she is the only one capable of persuading Dr. Manhattan to intervene. Even though he has a unique temporal perspective and can see both the future and the past simultaneously he is still persuaded by Silk Spectre II. Is the film positing that the feminine language, or in terms of the film, the emotional language, is the only way to speak to God? Would this mean that organized religion is unnecessarily complex and decisively inadequate?

Rorshach's greatest power, it would seem, is his will. It is his will alone which initially drives the plot forward. It is his will alone which overcomes devastating and insurmountable circumstances. For the purposes of this discussion, Rorschach is human will. And free will at that. Rorschach perseveres along his chosen path unchecked by anyone no matter if they make, enforce, or break the law. One could mistakenly contend that Rorshach's capture and imprisonment represents a containment and defeat of free will. I humbly refute this with Rorshach's own words, “I'm not locked in here with you, you're locked in here with me.” The film proclaims without equivocation that Rorschach is a result of his own woefully tragic back story. Is the point then that human will is galvanized by suffering? Is God the only being capable of alleviating that suffering and arresting the power of human will? Is the only real way to cope with a dreadful past to ceaselessly move forward until one can no longer move at all?

The Comedian's perspective remains unique and even though he does not appear in the present time line of the narrative, he has great impact on each of the principle characters. Despite the presence of God, he is the character to whom physical creation is attributable. Despite the presence of human will, the Comedian is almost totally unencumbered by moral boundaries. Finally, despite the appalling manner in which he conducts himself, his actions alter the perception of God. The Comedian is brutal, savage, and demonstrably evil. But ultimately, for both God and the Everyman, he is necessary. Does the Comedian represent the baser more animal side of human nature? Can the evil that comes from that only truly be neutralized by intellect?

Ozymandias is a renaissance superman. He, unlike Dr. Manhattan, does not possess knowledge inherently. He must seek it out and process it the way any other person would. He must cultivate his intellect. That intellect grows so powerful that he is able to negate, not only the actions of every other character, but the actions of God as well. He remains wholly unaffected by the others, yet his actions mete out consequences for everyone. He does not have Dr. Manhattan's innate near omniscient understanding of the universe, but unlike Dr. Manhattan, he is not divorced from the human perspective. Ozymandias fully grasps human psychology. Does the success of Ozymandias indicate that the human intellect is the most powerful force in existence? More powerful than God? Does Ozymandias represent the limit of human potential if one is to remain human?

It is my sincere hope that people will, at some point, come to this and gain some new perspective on this movie. Many whom I've encountered virtually and in real life have less than kind things to say about this film. A slew of professional and amateur reviews notwithstanding, I still think that the film has artistic merit and raises interesting questions in me. Granted, some of the questions were eluded to when I read the graphic novel, but now those questions are available to wider audience. I believe there is always something to be gleaned from the examination of artistic expression.

See the film. Talk about it.

Not A Review: A Primer

2009-03-10T19:59:00.005-05:00

It is my intention not to review books, movies, television shows, or music on this blog. Instead, I intend to invite discussion of these works and discover previously unexplored nuances of them. That is the best case scenario. At the very least, I intend to abate the opinion smog of the Internet.

Reviews are a species of writing which have procreated to the point of overpopulation on the Internet. Every few moments, a book, movie, television show, or piece of music is hastily scrutinized and summarized and then left breathless and bloated on the digital landscape. I'd like to practice some 2.0 ecology and manage the population of the species by not allowing unchecked propagation on my little piece of the electronic frontier.

In the interest of efficiency, I will include a link to a review of the work in each "Not A Review" should an overzealous search engine burn a path to my posts.

Me: A Primer

2009-03-07T14:08:00.002-06:00

Most people think I am smart, but I see myself fail at solving some of life's most rudimentary problems on a daily basis.

I have a lot of ideas. Sometimes I feel like a lightning rod. The power of the ideas surge through me and the misalignment of my personality molecules prevent the proper conduction of this energy into an effective direction. This blog is my attempt to allow the energy of my ideas to realign my molecules into a more effective arrangement.

In other words, I'm going to blog my way toward my greatest human potential.