Monday, 14 January 2008

reach for what you know is possible

I find myself in a rare state lately…

I would consider myself to be a champion of logic. My core belief structure is based in that all ideas have equal value until they are properly presented and dissected. But when discussing politics lately I find myself irrationally motivated… I find that I am so emotionally invested in one possible outcome, that my country can elect Barack Obama, that I have trouble even considering other outcomes. I feel some worth in that I can at least acknowledge this – and while it still troubles me – it at the same time emboldens me. In the past few weeks I have had the opportunity to surround myself with many like minded people, and I have discovered we all seem to have this affliction. The only similar irrationality I can find in my brief autobiography is probably related to love, and that is telling as well. All of us, this grand thing in common, all head over heels for this idea.

The term that originally seemed to define this candidacy was first “once in a generation”, eventually now “once in a lifetime”. And I have no real way of knowing if this is indeed true or not, having not been alive to believe in a Lincoln, FDR, RF or ML K. But that is what it feels like. That is what my gut tells me every time my heart rises and falls based on what appears to be happening in the race. Since the moment I fell in love with American History, I have been waiting for something to happen in my lifetime. Something important that my kids will read about and I will have been there myself, will have done something myself. And I have felt a fresh piece of the Berlin Wall in my fingers, I have paid true attention at the foot of the tangled ruins of ground zero, I have spoken out against the war before it was a war, but nothing has ever felt as crucial as this. To be a modern American, raised on the optimism of your high school textbooks but faced with the cynicism and ideological deadlock of the status quo, I think all of us yearn for something we can get behind. Americans want to believe in something greater than themselves, they want to be given a chance at playing their part in the textbooks of tomorrow and being on the right side of history. They just need a compelling reason, or figure from which to rally up.

Once week ago tomorrow, I sat at  results viewing party in North Conway, New Hampshire and watched in disbelief as our movement took its licks. And seeing tears in the eyes of people who share this belief is a polarizing event. You walk away ten times more resolved then you arrived. You want to put the whole thing on your bronze shoulders and carry it to fruition alone. But all you can do is work and work and most of all hope. And the riskiest part isn’t pouring your unbroken heart into it, it is allowing yourself to envision that enough people will also believe, just enough – to give what you are convinced is this gift to the American experiment. That change isn’t just a history lesson but a vibrant and impatient undercurrent to our shared experience.

So while I say, quite rationally, that my candidate is not just a rhetorical wonder, that he is in fact the future our country should be given the right to choose, that I have read his first book and finished every page in disbelief that we might actually get to have this real person as our president, a politician driven by principle and sincere civic duty and not by ego or greed or personal manifest destiny. I know these things are true. That this man would add another optimistic counterpoint in the chapters of our nation’s history. And I could cite or indeed publish essay after article to support this viewpoint, but I realize as well, that I am in fact now a Believer. And that my faith is impenetrable. Logic be damned and so be it. If this is once in a lifetime then we must make it count.

and Yes We Can.

Wednesday, 19 December 2007

Thursday, 13 December 2007

Imagined ending vs concrete ending

I see tonight that there is a youtube video out regarding the ending of Lost in Translation. It apparently uses a voice enhancer or some such doohickey to determine exactly what it is Bob Harris (Bill Murray) says to Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) at the end of the movie. (just quit reading now if you haven’t seen it yet, and shame on you)

Anyway, this is easily one of my favorite movies, one worth owning anyway (ie good enough that I need to be able to immediately watch it at any time) – and what I love most about it is how beautifully subtle it is. It just drips with under-moments, odd little glances, almost invisible shared understandings, and in a romance, which I guess is what you would call the film more than anything else, this is especially wonderful. Life, quite usually, is not like some movie after all.

So at the end of Lost in Translation, our two “lovers” never have their Hollywood moment really, and good. Bob is in the car to the airport, is suddenly compelled to seek out Charlotte, some obviously unfinished moment which was to happen but didn’t on his mind, and he does find her on a crowded street – they kiss – he whispers something in her ear and then he goes back to the car.

It’s an open ended ending, certainly more than it’s not, and so you are left wondering what he said, what will happen next, etc etc. John Q. Moviegoer who likes tight little bows at the end of every movie often finds this very annoying – where as I like that we are left to imagine the ending. I like that I have to do some work in the afterglow of such an enjoyable film. And as much as I do enjoy and sometimes need the emotional payoff at the end of a movie, I can settle for the kiss and the whisper and not the happily ever after we have been bamboozled with over and over again. (see: Love Actually – the most insulting movie to my emotional intelligence that I have probably ever seen)

So that it is now possible to find out what he does in fact say, I guess it makes for two kinds of people – those who want to know and those who don’t. And I find myself quite unwilling to look behind this curtain. I like not knowing. I like trying to dream up what he says every new time I see the movie. I like imagining when I’m feeling romantic that they meet again, and when I am pessimistic that they do not. I like that life includes mysteries and that I may not figure them all out. (see: how was the universe itself created)

So what kind of person are you? And if you go to find out what he says don’t you dare ever tell me.

….

POSTSCRIPT: Roger Ebert: as the the end of his original review:

Well, I loved this movie. I loved the way Coppola and her actors negotiated the hazards of romance and comedy, taking what little they needed and depending for the rest on the truth of the characters. I loved the way Bob and Charlotte didn’t solve their problems, but felt a little better anyway. I loved the moment near the end when Bob runs after Charlotte and says something in her ear, and we’re not allowed to hear it.
We shouldn’t be allowed to hear it. It’s between them, and by this point in the movie, they’ve become real enough to deserve their privacy. Maybe he gave her his phone number. Or said he loved her. Or said she was a good person. Or thanked her. Or whispered, “Had we but world enough, and time…” and left her to look up the rest of it.