70-80 years is not long enough for a human life
There’s just so much to be done. To be read, and listened to, and consumed, and learned. It’s so constricting to have to choose between the available options. Which authors do I read? What food do I make today? Do I exercise, or watch an old French movie, or practice an instrument, or take a walk, or something else? How do I know if I’m making the right choice? What even defines the “right choice”?
Spirit stuff
Is there a way to be “spiritual” without getting ripped off? I see two dominant ways by which one can become spiritual:
Join some kind of organized religion. The issue here is that (for me, at least) there is always going to be some kind of precept which both a) I disagree with and b) is critical to the foundation and practice of said religion. And if you’re going to pick and choose what you believe in, then what’s the point of professing adherence in the first place? Judaism seemed really interesting to me for a while, until I realized that I would never be able to promise to raise my kid in the faith, let alone get him circumcised. Baháʼí seem pretty anti-LGBT, as do the various strains of Christianity. I guess there’s the argument of becoming a cultural [whatever], who just does the rituals and hangs out but doesn’t buy into the more strident aspects, but then if you’re trying to find some sort of authentic spiritual vision, that approach seems antithetical to actually getting any results.
Do a more self-guided approach where you’re figuring out what spirituality actually means to you. There are two main problems here. First, there are countless charlatans in this space. I find it impossible to trust anyone who’s making money off of selling their spiritual vision to others. Second, seeking spirituality in this way seems rather lonely. If the point of spirituality is, I think, to find a connection with something bigger than yourself–be that the world or the after-life or the weltgeist–then to attempt to find your own idiosyncratic connection with The Bigger Thing must necessarily wall you off from those who come at the search from a different angle, or who have different results. Unless you come down on “Any spirituality essentially works, and nothing in particular is more correct than anything else.” Which seems like a cop-out, a way of rendering the personal search for spirituality essentially meaningless, and also inherently contradictory–how can all these religions be correct if more than one of them are concluding that some or all of their fellow religions are wrong? And if we’re picking and choosing which parts of these religions are correct in an attempt to satisfy the “all religions are correct” premise… at that point, things are starting to get pretty wishy-washy.
So I dunno. Are both of these paths non-viable? Obviously there’s no proving any of this, so do you need to be an atheist in order to be consistent? (Although atheism seems almost too certain of its conclusion. And agnosticism seems… kind of tepid.)
Maybe it’s the masculinity of modern religion that throws me. You’re always hearing about a God who is the Father and He does stuff and you better not piss Him off or defy His will.
I feel very restless about this, and I’m not sure how to address it. There are no quick fixes, I suppose.
Thinking about school
Being in school again has me reflecting on my previous bouts with academia. They were truly bouts; they felt at the time like moments characterized by opposition. Myself, poised against boring classwork; the expectations of my dad; my own fears of not fitting in; ennui stemming from a lack of knowledge of what I wanted to become and a lack of interest in finding out.
My current experience with school is… maybe not diametrically opposed to those things, but it does seem more fulfilling. I have a sense of purpose and focus that eluded me during the Years of Fucking Around. To be fair, I did experience these same feelings when I was taking the classes that led up to my math degree from UCI… you know, the one that I don’t really use. But to juxtapose that experience with those of high school or UC Riverside, where I just did the bare minimum in order to exist without actively failing out, shows how far I’ve come in being able to do more with educational facilities than merely occupy space within them.
Part of me wonders what I’d be like if I’d been the kind of person in high school (or earlier) to really engage with and make use of all the books and coursework and lessons I was supposed to be studying. Apropos of nothing, I thought of “The Swimmer” by John Cheever. I believe it was assigned to me junior year of high school. I did not read a single word of it–it seemed very far removed from what I was interested in (sci-fi, gloomy music). Now I could wish that the sum total of my responsibilities would be to read a short story and analyze it.
I did end up reading “The Swimmer” after writing the bulk of this post, because it felt weird to put effort into complaining about not having read something when it’s so easily available now. It is a very good story: spooky in an unexpected way, and insightful into the ways we hide within our own lives. Made me want to read more Cheever–or maybe some Rabbit Angstrom stuff?
But of course, there were a million things–in high school and afterward–that fall in the double-shaded Venn diagram region of “things I was not interested in” and “things that would be worth knowing about.” Why be upset about a particular one of those things, or fixate upon it? Just as I wasn’t the sort of person to get really into analyzing my English class assignments, then earn straight As so that I could do the same at some tiny liberal arts college, first as a student and then a professor, for the rest of my days; I also missed out on becoming a long-haul truck driver, or a bank robber, or a grindset type. The real distinction here is that the latter occupations are ones which I wouldn’t currently want to be doing.
Sometimes I think of missed opportunities, of chances given away for lack of convenience, and I almost find myself breathless at how much space all this nothingness can take up in a person. It’s like becoming aware of the vast void at the edges of your field of vision, and of the small area you can actually see, and of its paucity compared to everything behind you or even just off to the sides a bit.
Two old music trends I do not love
- 1980s LA punk bands using the n word and other slurs
- Post-punk bands (or any bands, really) including doo-wop songs on their LPs
Sunset Boulevard
Watched this today while watching the kid. I enjoyed it a lot. Sunset Boulevard had many interesting points to it:
- Gloria Swanson was great as Norma Desmond. I loved how the prop designers used her old photos and films as set decor.
- The movie is surprisingly dark and weird. Like how Joe Gillis calls Norma’s old acting peers “the waxworks.” Or how she buries her pet chimp in the backyard at midnight with the help of her butler. When Norma is doing her old routine for Joe (especially the Chaplin bit), it has such an odd vibe… like it’s pathetic, but also endearing.
- The surreality of the finale of Sunset Boulevard is really something. Something felt very meta about seeing the Paramount news division cameras rolling up to presumably shoot newsreel footage of the murder scene. And when the butler directs Norma’s descent down the stairs, and the news photographers and cops all freeze… chills.
- I did not realize that Cecil DeMille was a trained actor before he was in movies. His cameo was surprisingly well-done. Loved seeing Buster Keaton as well.
I feel like in general I have never given old movies enough credit. But Sunset Boulevard was highly entertaining, and I’d recommend watching it.
And you run, and you run to catch up with the sun / But it’s sinking
Now more than ever I feel the lack of time in my life to do things. Recreate, read, watch movies, hang out with friends… even actual critical things I need to do, like study, maintain the home, or take care of and be with family. This must be what it’s like to be an over-achiever, or some sort of high-powered executive who needs a personal assistant to schedule their day. I find myself retreating to my old refuge: endless snacking. Not great for my health. Really feeling some “quiet desperation” that I hope I can overcome soon.