These are from two postcards some of my mother's Sunday school children wrote to President Clinton quite a few years ago. She kept thembecause she liked the art on the other side.
Dear msn Cliniton
I think you ar
duing a gude
job but tri too
mak pes
Luv
-----
I wish you
could stop
violince, and
make more
peace.
My name is --- ------.
I live in Tenn.
Warms your heart, eh? Reminds me of modernist poetry, personally...
Tuesday, May 31
I Rather Like Huckabees
(Semi-spoiler alert. Yeah.)
I watched "I Heart Huckabees" this morning (from 1-3). It was a nice concept. I wasn't exactly sure what they were trying to say. My interpretation was, "Life is full of misery, but we're all connected in the misery, so that makes everything kinda alright." They didn't really address the meaninglessness of existence, just the futility and pain associated with it. I mean, I know we're all connected. But it's not some glorious, magical thing (as the main characters apparently learn). It's a machine. We're gears in a giant mechination rolling towards oblivion.
I guess, in the sense of the "isolation" aspect of existentialism, they found an "answer." We're not isolated in our pain. And, also, existence is not entirely painful. But that really doesn't answer what the point of existence is. I suppose you can take a more scientific approach and say there isn't one based upon what we have been able to ascertain using empirical data and logic, or you can say "it's beyond our comprehension." If you opt for the latter, as the former is far too depressing, then applying an actual answer is ridiculous. I've never understood how people can think of God, Heaven, and Hell as ideas that someone of our capacities can understand. They assume it's possible, but once you toss the idea of "something else" into the bag, you've opened the floor to an almost infinite number of possibilities and any one of them is equally as feasible. Thinking you're "right" is almost certainly lying to yourself.
I guess what I'm wondering is, with possibilities limited only to your imagination and even that is a false limitation, how can you settle on one singular idea as to the origin and meaning of existence? Ah well. If only I had the ability to do the same.
I watched "I Heart Huckabees" this morning (from 1-3). It was a nice concept. I wasn't exactly sure what they were trying to say. My interpretation was, "Life is full of misery, but we're all connected in the misery, so that makes everything kinda alright." They didn't really address the meaninglessness of existence, just the futility and pain associated with it. I mean, I know we're all connected. But it's not some glorious, magical thing (as the main characters apparently learn). It's a machine. We're gears in a giant mechination rolling towards oblivion.
I guess, in the sense of the "isolation" aspect of existentialism, they found an "answer." We're not isolated in our pain. And, also, existence is not entirely painful. But that really doesn't answer what the point of existence is. I suppose you can take a more scientific approach and say there isn't one based upon what we have been able to ascertain using empirical data and logic, or you can say "it's beyond our comprehension." If you opt for the latter, as the former is far too depressing, then applying an actual answer is ridiculous. I've never understood how people can think of God, Heaven, and Hell as ideas that someone of our capacities can understand. They assume it's possible, but once you toss the idea of "something else" into the bag, you've opened the floor to an almost infinite number of possibilities and any one of them is equally as feasible. Thinking you're "right" is almost certainly lying to yourself.
I guess what I'm wondering is, with possibilities limited only to your imagination and even that is a false limitation, how can you settle on one singular idea as to the origin and meaning of existence? Ah well. If only I had the ability to do the same.
WE ARE NIHILISTS! WE BELIEVE IN NOTHING!
TEN random things about me
01. I enjoy the finer things in life, such as ambivalence.
02. I think, therefore I DANCE!
03. I AM HARRY TRUMAN!
04. I don't hate puppies, I just feel they're unnecessary.
05. I hate the city of Des Moines.
06. I stole your kidney.
07. In the past, I have attempted murder. Murder mostly foul.
08. If I was a rich man, I would consider investing in the Turkish lyra.
09. Toaster oven.
10. I'm not really Harry Truman.
NINE ways to win my heart
01. Avoid mentioned the word "bloviate."
02. Get a perfect score on ski-ball.
03. Tell me I'm prettier than your cat.
04. Stop yelling.
05. Help me overthrow the Liberian government, again.
06. Bring me William Shatner's left eye.
07. Lose miserably in everything you do.
08. Don't destroy the things I am moderately attached to.
09. Kill me and have a really sharp knife.
EIGHT things I want to do before I die
01. Throw eggs at George McGovern's car.
02. End Alberta.
03. Smile without causing someone intense pain.
04. Lose 10 more pounds.
05. Finally find out how Little Caesar's makes large pizzas for only $5.
06. Distribute multiple comeuppances.
07. Receive $5 from a hobo, voluntarily.
08. Save Christmas.
SEVEN things I believe in
01. Cancer.
02. Victory!
03. Indiana.
04. Your imminent demise.
05. Mold.
06. Tuna.
07. Lying about believing in Indiana.
SIX things that get me mad (or annoyed/paranoid/frustrated)
01. Lead poisoning.
02. Domination (either kind).
03. POWER.
04. Poisoned lead.
05. Your constant beratements about my pantsfree lifestyle.
06. The progression of time.
FIVE things I'm afraid of
01. Charlston Heston's cold dead hands.
02. NIHILISM!
03. Blank spaces.
04.
05. AAAHHHHHHHH!
FOUR of my fave items in my room
01. My finger collection.
02. Bribe money.
03. Cocaine dispenser.
04. Your thoughts.
THREE things I do everyday
01. Consider putting on pants.
02. Exist, at least twice.
03. Decide pants are, indeed, unnecessary.
TWO things I need to do right now
01. Stop.
02. Thank You.
ONE person I want to see right now
01. Walter Fricking Mondale.
01. I enjoy the finer things in life, such as ambivalence.
02. I think, therefore I DANCE!
03. I AM HARRY TRUMAN!
04. I don't hate puppies, I just feel they're unnecessary.
05. I hate the city of Des Moines.
06. I stole your kidney.
07. In the past, I have attempted murder. Murder mostly foul.
08. If I was a rich man, I would consider investing in the Turkish lyra.
09. Toaster oven.
10. I'm not really Harry Truman.
NINE ways to win my heart
01. Avoid mentioned the word "bloviate."
02. Get a perfect score on ski-ball.
03. Tell me I'm prettier than your cat.
04. Stop yelling.
05. Help me overthrow the Liberian government, again.
06. Bring me William Shatner's left eye.
07. Lose miserably in everything you do.
08. Don't destroy the things I am moderately attached to.
09. Kill me and have a really sharp knife.
EIGHT things I want to do before I die
01. Throw eggs at George McGovern's car.
02. End Alberta.
03. Smile without causing someone intense pain.
04. Lose 10 more pounds.
05. Finally find out how Little Caesar's makes large pizzas for only $5.
06. Distribute multiple comeuppances.
07. Receive $5 from a hobo, voluntarily.
08. Save Christmas.
SEVEN things I believe in
01. Cancer.
02. Victory!
03. Indiana.
04. Your imminent demise.
05. Mold.
06. Tuna.
07. Lying about believing in Indiana.
SIX things that get me mad (or annoyed/paranoid/frustrated)
01. Lead poisoning.
02. Domination (either kind).
03. POWER.
04. Poisoned lead.
05. Your constant beratements about my pantsfree lifestyle.
06. The progression of time.
FIVE things I'm afraid of
01. Charlston Heston's cold dead hands.
02. NIHILISM!
03. Blank spaces.
04.
05. AAAHHHHHHHH!
FOUR of my fave items in my room
01. My finger collection.
02. Bribe money.
03. Cocaine dispenser.
04. Your thoughts.
THREE things I do everyday
01. Consider putting on pants.
02. Exist, at least twice.
03. Decide pants are, indeed, unnecessary.
TWO things I need to do right now
01. Stop.
02. Thank You.
ONE person I want to see right now
01. Walter Fricking Mondale.
Monday, May 30
Madge of Honor
So today I took my grandfather to my grandmother(Madge)'s grave. It was awkward, in a way, because I'm not good at talking to any of my family, at all. About anything meaningful, that is. But it was still a nice thing to do. He was obviously a bit saddened by it, but he talked about his grave (adjacent to hers, of course) in a somewhat jovial manner. We didn't really say much, but I was glad that I went anyway.
What shook me when I looked down were the dates. Madge Harmon February 1927 to October 1977. She was the same age my mother is right now when she died of lung cancer. Not only that, but that means my grandfather has lived without her for 28 years. For about a few of those years my mother and father lived with him, but, for the most part, he's lived alone. To be married 30 years and then to be thrust into another 30 of relative solitude... it's amazing. My grandfather isn't bitter or cranky or anything; in fact, he's one of the most generous nice guys I know. And I as stood there, looking at those years and "doing the math" I wondered how he could do it.
I guess, in a way, it's telling of his generation. They lived through the Depression, WWII, Vietnam, etc. They fought for something. They worked to survive. I don't know, maybe they've just had enough hardships to appreciate what they've got now. Or maybe I don't.
Frankly, I'm afraid of old age. I've not even been an adult for a full year, and I'm already afraid of being old and lonely. I live such an unhealthy lifestyle and I think, "Someday, this is going to come back and make your life hell." But I don't mind. I want to work for years and years and years, and then a week after I retire (or maybe after I write 80 to complete the trilogy), I want to die.
Ah well. I should ask my grandfather how he does it. But, for some reason, I can't. It's a family thing. Probably applies to you too.
Bleh. A boy of 18 should not be thinking like this.
What shook me when I looked down were the dates. Madge Harmon February 1927 to October 1977. She was the same age my mother is right now when she died of lung cancer. Not only that, but that means my grandfather has lived without her for 28 years. For about a few of those years my mother and father lived with him, but, for the most part, he's lived alone. To be married 30 years and then to be thrust into another 30 of relative solitude... it's amazing. My grandfather isn't bitter or cranky or anything; in fact, he's one of the most generous nice guys I know. And I as stood there, looking at those years and "doing the math" I wondered how he could do it.
I guess, in a way, it's telling of his generation. They lived through the Depression, WWII, Vietnam, etc. They fought for something. They worked to survive. I don't know, maybe they've just had enough hardships to appreciate what they've got now. Or maybe I don't.
Frankly, I'm afraid of old age. I've not even been an adult for a full year, and I'm already afraid of being old and lonely. I live such an unhealthy lifestyle and I think, "Someday, this is going to come back and make your life hell." But I don't mind. I want to work for years and years and years, and then a week after I retire (or maybe after I write 80 to complete the trilogy), I want to die.
Ah well. I should ask my grandfather how he does it. But, for some reason, I can't. It's a family thing. Probably applies to you too.
Bleh. A boy of 18 should not be thinking like this.