Through the Night

There are very few good romance films that are big releases in the United States these days. The instant reference I get when I bring up the subject is often The Notebook. It's sad that this movie is actually considered of any worth since it is boring, dry, and predictable. I know that much because I've watched the first 30 minutes three times and have repeatedly stopped the movie at that point for fear I would lapse into a permanent coma.

When I think of excellent romance films, I somehow always run over the bump of Somewhere In Time. The film brings out a forlorn contemplation, tearing away possibilities and replacing them with moribund reality. Strangely enough, the feeling is similar to those last few minutes of 12 Monkey's or Infernal Affairs, tearing our whatever emotion lies inside of you and leaving nothing but a void.

The theme that binds these films focuses on a failure to escape a world constantly pursuing the main character(s). However, in each situation, the situation is one that is chosen - not forced upon them.

Maybe that is why the films are so devastating - they are tragedies in which the characters try to fight a destiny they can feel pulling them deeper and deeper. Self-destruction is far more complete when a person knowingly walks along a path towards it because it is the only choice that can be fathomed.

In that same step, idealism has to be followed through with, despite its obvious failings. Choices must be made in the belief that something good will come of them, otherwise there is no point in moving forward. That step forward, into danger, is what generates hope.

People seem to forget that pushing forward always involves risk. The massive potential for change can only be present because of the darkness of the current situation. The question needs to be placed in the context of what can be lost, not what can be gained. Importance lies in how great the cost is to us and the decisions we make to avoid or minimize that cost.

Placed, in a more concrete example of this election, we face dangers abroad and at home. Fundamentalist religious revivals, declining standards of freedom, increased militaristic tensions, and a precarious global finance and trading market are elements of the day. To see the world plummet downwards from any or all of these is a great cost to bear.

This places the United States at a critical decision point, between McCain and Obama. Both have promised to lead America forward through the darkness. Because of this promise, both must be evaluated in terms of the cost that we face in the future, not the benefit that either may bring. Which candidate can minimize or maybe even avoid the exploding costs of healthcare, social security, poverty, education, military casualties, international instability, worker exploitation and genocide?

There is an excellent quote from Batman: The Dark Knight, where Harvey Dent states optimistically, "The night is darkest just before the dawn." So many people forget that after the dawn the night will come again. Our path out of darkness will be a path into darkness once again.

The rhetoric of the presidential candidates reflects a benefit-analysis, primarily to set the bar low. They characterize themselves as agents of change, deviating from the path that America, not only our President, has chosen for the past two terms. In doing so, both Obama and McCain argue to try to address the present and future costs, but are unwilling to go so far as to say they will solve for them.

The resulting resolve is one that compromised both politicians. Voters admired each of these men for characteristics they thought would help deal with the travails ahead. In response, Obama handed over the idealism of a radical candidate that pushed him so far though the Democratic party. McCain let got of much of his lauded honesty and ethics in selecting his vice-presidential candidate and recent endorsement of smear campaigning.

Done to reduce expectations and increase mainstream support, both candidates established a message that they would try to address the costs - that they would change the current political scene of the United States. But the political scene isn't the problem, it's the impacts of the political scene. When you distill the message of each candidate, we are left with a promise to try to change the costs.

"Do or do not - there is no try," said Yoda. If failure isn't an option, why do our proposed leaders hold themselves back in fear of it? Lead us forwards or don't lead us - failure is not an option.

I Hurt Myself Yesterday

There are profound pleasures and debilitating disappointments in life. As a romantic idealist, it seems that I experience both to the fullest. Maybe one could go so far as to say that such a philosophy of life tears away the thin film that clouds our daily existing, feeling things to a somewhat unhealthy extreme.

I haven't posted in a quite a while. This is partially because of my recent explorations of the city consuming a large part of my day; however, I think most of it revolves around adjusting to the social and intellectual dynamics of law school. It is not extremely relevant to my posting today, but I thought I should inject some explanation, as I have often been annoyed with many a writer that fails to feed me with works on a regular basis.

I've met many people in the past two weeks, while accepting new experiences that I previously held back from. Some of them have been amazingly pleasurable; others have been disappointing. The one thing that ties my recent experiences together is the people.

Everywhere I experience people, I find something redeeming within human nature. From the crack addicts on the side of the street that get up every day to the people who walk by them while ignoring the pleas for change on their way to work, human beings persevere no matter their environment.

In the lost and forgotten part of society, I can find the heart of humanity - the constant suffering that is visible physically and thrown back into the faces of the invisible people. Knowing tomorrow will hold nothing better and still moving on, there exists concrete proof that falling down completely will not stop the soul.

It is easy for most other people to go forward in life. With the insulating advantages of money, education, food and safety, life does not throw challenges that we really have to continually and wholly struggle against in our daily lives. The most difficult things experienced by most of the people around me involve trying to figure out how to pay back loans or dealing with a relationship that is in dire straights. Maybe a dying relative or a loss of personal faith lies at the extremes. These things are part of normal life, and we function with and through them, overcoming the simpler hurdles.

The two sides I have mentioned are commonly stated. It is the connection between them that is not addressed. The person vomiting on the sidewalk and the businessperson that casually steps around to avoid damaging her or his shoes - this connection is the crucial one.

It is a fine line between pretending a person is not in front of you and not seeing the person in front of you. When you glance at the unwashed panhandler and catch their eye, you can see the glimpse of some connection, even if it is simply the person realizing they can target you for monetary sympathy. The slight eye contact that includes revulsion, pity, and wariness preys on the bond that humans hold with one another.

The loss of that contact is dangerous. Allowing such people to become invisible is a separation from the most shameful part of our cities and slums. It indicates an apathy that separates us from our humanity - the shame, the hope, the fear, the pity. Ignoring that frail person hunched over a step is ignoring our soul.

It is easy to exist in ivory towers, ignorant suburbs, hedonistic clubs or spiritual enclaves, making the rest of the world an unfortunate thing with which we are obligated to deal. Losing your soul is not a difficult process - it simply requires looking forward without a wavering glance. Eventually, looking in the mirror reveals the subtle transformation, presenting the question of if anything can be felt. The decision between either keeping our humanity or holding an empire of dirt must be a continual one.