Big Sky

So, it's now almost 3 in the morning, and I STILL can't sleep! I took a couple of aspirins awhile ago hoping to alleviate a headache as well as a crik in my neck, but that upset my stomach so I got back out of bed and ate no less than THREE 99cent tv dinners, then went outside and had a smoke and stared at the big dipper for a long time, and thought about how cool it would be if we could turn this whole situation around in our heads, and accept with gladness this very brief interlude of living in purgatory against the knowledge of an eternity of silent bliss waiting for us right around the corner, and that got me to thinking about Ikkyu and how he went about with skulls hanging from his belt to remind himself of the true nature of reality, and that made me feel a whole lot better, on top of which there's been a cricket loose in my room for the last 2 nights whose chirping is a delight beyond measure, and remembered this poem-

Only One Koan Matters...You (for Ikkyu and Mori)

Sad, boisterous, lecherous, drunk, suicidal-
Ikkyu embodied the flux of human existence.
He found transcendence in the dung of his master, Keno,
and spiritual release in the mouth of a 19 year old blind girl.
What wisdom coats your dead tongue, Mori?
Does he carry your skull on his belt, as he walks the fields beyond the moon?
Give us a kiss, sweetheart, and then another round
on me.


I'm also thinking about you, Plague Doctor, and hoping your condition is cutting you some slack. Get some rest for the both of us.

Pre-Post: MST3K and Me

This isn't exactly the post I'd planned on writing today, but I'm sick and tired and blasted on NyQuil, so I guess it'll have to do. Plus, I think it'll be somewhat relevant to the extended conversation in the threads this morning.

As some of you know, I'm a big fan of Mystery Science Theater 3000. For those of you who aren't familiar, MST3K was originally a cable access show in Minnesota that went national on Comedy Central, was canceled for a couple of years, then was resurrected via fan write-in campaigns on the SciFi channel for a few more seasons. All in all, a ten year run in which the show garnered several awards as well as almost universal praise from the critics.

The premise is simple, though rather ludicrous: A couple of mad scientists send a maintenance man (Joel, later replaced by Mike) up into space. There, aboard the 'Satellite of Love', he is forced to watch bad movies as the 'mads' monitor his reactions. To stave off loneliness, Joel builds some robot friends who share the ship's theater with him, where they while away the hours, days and years making wisecracks at the screen and the cinematic titanics displayed thereon (Cinematic Titanic is Joel Hodgen's new enterprise, pretty much the same as before, but without the sci-fi premise).

Anyway, through much diligent searching I have come into possession of pretty much every episode ever made- close to 200 in all! And since I've recently moved and most of my other movies and tv shows are in storage, I've been watching them a LOT lately. Fact is, I've already seen a couple today, and will be watching another as soon as I'm finished here, IF I manage to not pass out. But lately, I haven't been watching them straight through. Instead, after I've become somewhat familiar with the characters in the particular movie I'm watching, I pause the dvd or tape, go to my laptop, wiki the film, then start researching the backgrounds of the characters. I've been doing this so much the last couple of months that I THINK it's become an official hobby of mine. In fact, my younger daughter insists that I call her to fill her in on the details of my searches (she's a movie buff).

And OH the things I've learned! The joys and sorrows! The intrigue! The heartbreaking love affairs. As well as all the other tidbits and trivia that have made my little hobby such an interesting endeavor. Did you know that the Professor from Gilligan's Isle was a war hero? Or that a very minor character in a forgettable 'B' motorcycle movie called 'Sidehackers' later spoke the first Klingon word on that most famous of Star Trek episodes 'The Trouble with Tribbles', and that the Klingon word he used was actually a form of the actor's own last name? Or that another staple actress from several Roger Corman pics almost became the queen of a middle eastern country, but was ultimately rejected for being Jewish, or that she later gave birth to a son afflicted with dwarfism who later beat her to death in her own home with a weightlifting bar? I even found an entry in a woman's personal blog about a brief and bitter tryst with a young actor from 'LaserBlast' who died of a heart attack brought on by cocaine use, detailing a night where they stole into a warehouse of Hollywood memorabilia and tried on the famous outfits of stars and films gone by.

Now I'll actually get to the point I wish to make. You know, I watch these MST3K episodes, and they make me smile, and laugh, and cringe at the sometimes VERY bad writing, direction and acting. I laugh, but my laughter is a reaction to a story whose circumstances and context is limited solely to fiction. But outside that context, there's nothing to laugh about. Well, strike that...sometimes there really are things to laugh about, but there is no one to laugh AT. There are two kinds of absurdity here. Actually, I think there are three, which is what I hope to write about after my head's a little more clear. But what I wanted to point out tonight is simply that there's a difference between artistic absurdity and existential absurdity. The first plays off the second, and in that sense can be appreciated for the insights it provides. But the second, the absurdity that defines the meaningless and ultimately futile struggle of life against life; well, that's a different story in my book, and certainly not something that an empathetic person should either value OR appreciate, no matter how one chooses to parse those two terms.

Anywho, hopefully I'll be up to expanding on this idea tomorrow or the next day, depending on my
oh-so-variegated temperament and my dizziness-to-typing ratio. Until next time, may all of you rest well and be rested.

A Short Note on Moral Judgement and Misanthropy

I'm really trying to separate my sense of moral outrage from human agency these days. After all, a clinical study of life from a strictly deterministic viewpoint reveals that true moral agency is an illusion, anyway. This is something I've believed for a long time, but internalizing the concept is something else entirely. Emotions cloud the fact that there's really nothing else besides the process as a whole to blame; and not even that, since the process itself is automatic and insentient. Sentience itself is merely a descriptive term for a certain complex of biological and chemical feedback loops, feeding the illusion that 'individuals' experience a sort of status that exists somehow apart from the flux of existence as a whole, so as to 'reflect'; a misnomer which, if dwelt upon adequately, might be more revealing than a lot of us would care to contemplate.

Long story short: I am the universe kicking against its own pricks, and yelling "Ouch!" And so are all of us- sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come.

Goo goo g'joob.

P.S. Perhaps not so much a misnomer; instead, a misapplied euphemism better understood as a literal condition. You know, Semolina Pilchard climbing up the Eiffel Tower.

Or, to put it another way.