Animals?

Us Westerners do alot of things each day to convince ourselves that we aren't like the rest of the creatures on this planet. No, we aren't animals--we are more than that. We are separate. We are human beings--we have rational capacities and souls and whatever else we can think of to make us distinct from the animal kingdom. As Bacon said, because we walk on our hind legs--we are 'the gods of the earth.'

How do we do this? Well, you know, the usual--lotions, deodorants, sprays and other fragrant things. A complex semiotic system of clothes consisting of shoes, socks, shirts, jackets, pants, trousers, hats, etc. And then there is the etiquette. manners. How to eat. How to gesture. Spitting? No--barbaric. Drawing attention to bodily fluids (e.g. snot)? Out of the question. We are humans. We are civilized. Think about everything you do every day to think about the fact that you are not a chimpanzee, you are a person.

But, there is one thing all of us do. Most daily. Some less than that. But, all of us do it and so do all the animals. There is something each of us does that is a chance to remind ourselves--to reflect on the fact--that we are basically and essentially animals, barbaric, biological, natural animals that depend upon the natural order for our well-being. Yes, you came from the Big Bang just like the rocks and the snakes and the one-celled entities of this universe. And, when you are sitting and wiping your ass you can't avoid that. It is a second to remember where you came from and not to forget it.

Crass? Maybe. Gross? Possibly. But, next time you are have your hand down there remember you read it here first.

i love living,

keep it real.

Karate Kid or Back to the Future?

As a semi-child of the 80s, I have been struggling with something for a long time. I have pondered this subject informally, but never fleshed out my thoughts about it. So, here goes:

Which 80s trilogy is better: The Karate Kid or Back to the Future?

Now, before the haters begin shouting, lets clarify: yes, there are other trilogies which could be considered better than these--Star Wars, Indiana Jones, etc. But, I believe these two hold a special, quasi-comical, quasi-dramatic place which only 9 year old children truly appreciate.

Let the games begin:

1. Main Character
Both Marty McFly and Daniel Larusso share an endearing underdog status which helps us root for them right from the off. Both have family struggles--Marty struggling with the existential, Freudian dilemma of a weakling father, Daniel (absent of father) just moved to a new place with a somewhat aloof, but caring mother.
Both are unassuming and cute. Both have high aspirations caged in very adolescent worlds.
However, the first round goes to Back to the Future. Daniel is an emotionally closed in teenager, unwilling to express his emotions at times. His persistence and boylike facial expressions makeup for this, but . . . No one runs like Marty. Really, watch Michael J. Fox run throughout the three films and you see the heroic underdog embodied in full stride. Marty is open, humble and enduring. He stands up for himself and others. His mission is fueled not only by revenge, but by a hope to set the time-space continuum right.

Winner: BTTF

2. Eccentric mentor?

Both classics. Doc Brown and Mr. Miyagi have reached iconic status and if there isn't a website where you can by t-shirts with their likenesses on them the Information Age is truly a failure. Doc Brown is wide-eyed, excitable recluse with crazy aspirations. His genius is hidden behind a whirlwind of scattered thoughts. But, he got the flex capacitor right. A time machine out of a Delorean, genius. Mr. Miyagi on the other hand is a zen-like master, cool under pressure and always under control. His sage like advice is subtle yet potent. But, these aren't the reasons that KK wins this round. No, it is the sheer amount of times that Miyagi beats ass throughout the trilogy that gives the KK the edge. Miyagi beats Johnny and the gangs ass and the jokers at the beach in the first one, the Cobra Kai sensei in the second, and then has it out in his home town on Okinawa in a family duel.

Winner: KK

3. Girlfriend?

Both are hot. That's for sure. But, there is a definitive answer as to why the KK version is the winner here. BTF contains numerous scenes of Marty kissing, or at least romantically compromised, with his mother. I am sorry. I don't care who is girlfriend is. I don't care what she looks like. The sexual energy has been zapped straight up. On the other hand, Elizabeth Shue is always hot. Always.

Winner: KK

4. Plot?

No doubt, the Karate Kid is an endearing figure. I practiced the Crane Kick for years after seeing the first film and still pull it out in bar fights when need be. Daniel's quest for self-confidence and revenge is great. The way Miyagi works him into shape is classic. But, there is simply no way that BTTF doesn't win here. Throughout the films, we are taken from suburban America in 1985, to the future of flying cars, back to the Wild West and then into an alternative 1985. This is more than teen angst, the fate of the time-space continuum rests in the balance. The sheer drama oozing from Doc Brown's eyes and Marty's numerous run ins with the Biffs, the decision about whether or not to tinker with the future, the interweaving stories of family, love and self-control--this is the stuff of epics.

Winner: BTTF

5. Lessons Learned?

I credit any moral fibers in my existence to these trilogies. Truly, the stuff of life is contained here. Daniel learns about hard-work (pain the fence, sand the floor, etc.), how to stick up for yourself, what it means to have a mentor that is demanding and compellig, how to hope against hope and to never give up. Miyagi instills in him the virtue of self-control--karate is not about hurting people, it is about balance. Isn't all of life? I mean really.
BTTF is chalked full of it to. Marty is balancing a shaky self-identity made up of rock star dreams, a dissapointing family and an incessant desire to prove himself to anyone that challenges him (Did you call me chicken?). Over the course of the trilogies, he comes to see that people are not static--small, strange events can transform destinies. A bit of self-confidence can bring out the genius in people (like his dad). He stands up to bullies at all costs, especially for the vulnerable (his mother, George, Doc, etc.). There is probably a sermon tied in here for people that do that kind of thing. Anyway, point being, Marty's combination of persistence, cool under pressure and care for the vulnerable leads to the restoration of the time-space continuum with the added bonus of those closest to him becoming what they truly could be--self-confident, talented individuals. This is starting to sound like eschatology.

Winner: BTTF

So, by a slim margin the debate is decided. As always Daniel-san put a good fight, but in the end the cosmos is restored by the only man that could pull off Marty McFly and Alex P. Keaton in the same decade.

In our world--in our time--the only sacred left is the ordinary. The sacred times of life happen in ordinary, unexpected moments in which instead of dissappointed, betrayed, hurt; something unexpected happens--something that takes your breath away.

The Space BetweenThe tears we cryIs the laughter keeps us coming back for moreThe Space BetweenThe wicked lies we tellAnd hope to keep safe from the pain

If you are lucky enough, there will be a moment, or even just a second in which you are left speechless. When the expected turn of events is reversed and on the horizon comes joy, or comfort or closeness. In a world in which community is sipped over a cup of hyper-text, in which our identities are constituted by the flickering images of the screen in front of us and our value is reduced to marketability.

The Space BetweenWhere you're smiling high is where you'll find me if I get to go

It is those moments--filled with inexpressible grief or transcendent joy--which fill the space. The space between you and yourself. The space is mundane, even profane, but here that the sacred happens. Unexpected closeness, kindness received, community formed. And, in those moments--we realize that breathing is worth it. That, the nihilism of the age is overwhelming but not conquering. In the sacred moments, the mundane and the profane are transformed in a way that they 'serve the cause of life.'

The Space BetweenThe bullets in our firefight is where I'll be hiding, waiting for you. The rain that falls, Splash in your heart Ran like sadness down the window into...The Space Between Our wicked lies Is where we hope to keep safe from pain

Sacred moments aren't a given. We can't take them for granted. You can't expect the unexpected. But, when it comes--when it appears--step outside of the space, let it be filled and thank the universe for the chance to continue to hope.

I love living.

Keep it real,

The circle forms as they sit. One offers to gather the potion as the others settle in for what they do not expect. All of them have arrived with worry, tension, joy and monotony. Each of them carries burden, hope, hurt and loneliness. As the first drinks are sipped, a sense of ease begins to set in. The anxiety of existence slowly releases every time the glass is brought nearer to emptiness. As time wears on, the collective worries, burdens, celebrations and hurt each has brought melts into the cool night's air. A community is formed around a wooden table, on wooden benches in a beer garden removed from the swirl of sickness and sadness--from the everyday, the mudane and the hurry. Time is a component removed as the participants--now reminded of why they are friends--laugh and talk story. Conversations too important to be remembered in the morning are experienced in a unique combination of random thought, exhaled relief and imbibed drink. Spontaneous creativity comes to the fore as the conversation ebbs, flows and transcends the subject--instilling a sense of reason, purpose and value to the things left behind. A sense of renewed strength to go back when the circle convenes.

Community? Maybe too strong a word. Fellowship? A bit too much baggage. No, let's leave it at friendship. Let's leave it as a group laughing, smiling, sharing, trying, hurting and most of all being. Shared space. Shared existence. Shared breath. A fleeting moment never caught nor verbalized. A smile wrought from the depths of the 'sickness unto death'. A glimpse of why gardens were created in the first place.

In the technocracy and de-mythologized existence we have created, for those lucky enough, this is the closest return to the Garden we might ever experience.

Stop. Watch. Be. No moving. No creating. No yesterday. No tomorrow. No behind. No forward. No creating. No worrying. Soak in the view and let yourself be enveloped by it. You are not against it. Not over it. Not opposed. You are in and only in. You are you only here. Most of the time we spend moving, thinking, trying, looking, remembering, and eveything else. Movement revolves around purpose--my purpose, our purpose. Intention. Projection.

Give it up for a moment. Focus your attention on something other--realize its existence. Let the primordial reality of our shared genetic heritage--the development of all things from an explosion 15 billion years ago to the diverse array of difference before us--related and other; one and not. There is unity here. There is mystery. The key is to let you--the subject, stop letting it be an object of intention or purpose--and simply be. No worry. No concern. Just.

Why? "I don't have time." What's with the cosmic bullshit? Meditation?

It is in those scarce moments of still recogntion that the mystery creeps in and reminds us that there is more to the universe than ourselves and more to being than everyday bullshit. If there is a reason for living it is found in appreciation of these others and finding our role within this whole strange framework.

Smoke fills the cold air from the cigar in the left hand. As the port is sipped gently in a singular movement of the right hand to the mouth and then down the throat, distant thoughts are lured to the foreground--thoughts lodged somewhere between sub-consciousness, recognized consciousness and the chaos of existence.

The thoughts filter out through the comfortable breath of exhale as the left hand brings the cigar to the mouth resulting in a surplus of breath, mixing with the mystical smoke, which then evaporates into the darkness of night. Within seconds, the strange conglomerate of smoke and breath are gone--not only to never be seen again, but also never to exist in the unique combination of flow, movement and ease in which they were excreted. The seconds of their existence wisped away without meaning or signficance. No crowd is present on the porch, in the void of the night to see the hybrid of elements disappear into the air. No recording takes record of their existence. No one applauds. No one cares.

But, for a moment the awe and wonder of the weightless gas, the combination of thought, reflection, interaction, absurdity and meaninglessness which pervade the exhaled breath are
suspended in mid-stream. Weightless, bodiless, and formless the suspended moment of exhale remains long enough for the eye to catch the mystery which they contain.

And, this is why we sit on porches, sipping port and smoking cigars. This is why we breath each day--breathe in the no's, the chaos, the hurt, the tears--because we have caught a glimpse before--a glimpse of the mystery within the evaporating exhale and it is just enough to keep us breathing in each moment. The moments which seem impossible--the marriage of breath and smoke hanging in front of nothing--contain the glimpses of creativity and wonder which somehow constitute the breath of life.

It's all in Genesis 1, just go look it up.

A Haiku:

There is a thin line
between genius and madness
but who the fuck cares?

The most distant things are not the unknown, but the most familiar. However, familiarity doesn't equal nearness; in fact it almost always results in distance and a false sense of comfort.

This is especially true in human to human relationships. In the everyday interactions of small talk, familiar practices--passing people on the street, saying hello to acquaintances, buying things at the store--we see people, acknowledge them and move on. We are lulled into believing that there is no difference between us; no gap separating our seemingly shared existence. We unconsciously assume that our shared world means a universal embodied experience. But, this is simply not the case.

The most familiar things are actually the most distant.

This explains the shock of being--the eruption of notice and focus and alien-ness at the moment when we experience true intimacy with another. Our encounter with what we assumed was Same, is disrupted at its core by the embrace, the coalescence of two different bodies--two Others actually becoming near. In this moment, the utter terror of nearness becomes apparent--the convenience of familiarity is shattered by the utter proximity of another within the self; within the bounds of the normalcy which we assumed was spread beyond us.

True nearness is found only in this absurd moment of meeting; of encounter. This fact drives many to simulate true meeting with the false pretense of mechanical and meaningless interaction with others. But, casual sex does nothing to remedy the distance of the familiar. Rather, it only reinforces the false assumption that nearness is to be found in what is familiar.

Instead, true meeting requires a vulnerability which is simultaneously terrifying and hopeful. Terrifying in that an-other is brought into the sphere which was supposed to not only protect the self from danger, but also which delineates our everyday understanding of reality. When an-other is allowed in, disruption, chaos and absurdity are all genuine possibilities. It is hopeful because it is this chaos and absurdity which drives us toward, beyond and over. We hope that the encounter will bring meaning to the familiarity which is so often empty and void. We hope that the chaos will shed light on the nauseating order which is so familiar.

What is near is intimate. What is familiar is distant. Distance is not overcome by proximity, but only through openess to an-other which is different, powerful and full of potential.

Familiarity is common. Distance is universal. Nearness is rare.