Unless you’ve been living under a rock or have no internet connection (in which case I must ask, “How the hell are you reading this?!”), you’ve likely heard about NBC’s decision to move the faltering Jay Leno Show from 10 PM to 11:35. This would bump Conan’s Tonight Show from its long-standing time slot and move it to 12:05, which, as Letterman astutely noted, would make it the Tomorrow Show. This, of course, is lunacy, and Conan said as much in a statement.
Full disclosure: I don’t watch late night TV. I am, however, awake at such hours, and my occasional late night flybys of the networks have left me with the impression that the late night hosts should be ranked in the following order: David Letterman, Conan O’Brien, Jimmy Kimmel, Craig Ferguson, Jimmy Fallon, Carson Daly, whoever is on Telemundo, Johnny Carson’s corpse, a flock of retarded geese, Jay Leno.
The long and the short of it is that I don’t like Leno. Never have. I’m not sure if it’s his obnoxious voice, his Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade-sized chin or what, but he’s always gotten on my nerves. I’ve long preferred Letterman, who has been nothing short of hilarious whenever I happen to catch him. As for Conan, well, I’m a geek, so we’ve certainly got that in common. And he wrote for The Simpsons, which gets him automatic cool points in my book. And whenever I’ve caught his show, it’s been funny, intelligent, and weird. I can dig that.
Leno and NBC went out on a limb and created a show at 10 PM. I’ve never seen it, but it sounds like it blows goats. I’m assuming there’s at least one metric shit-ton of money involved with the show, so NBC is scrambling to keep it afloat, and this debacle was their answer.
Explain to me why Conan should pay because Leno screwed up? Does that seem fair to anyone? I realize that life isn’t fair (my parents assured me of this at least 15.2 billion times when I was a child), but there are certain things that simply shouldn’t be done. Those things include rewarding mediocrity, and making someone else pay for that mediocrity. This is exactly what NBC is trying to do. Conan says he won’t stand for it. I applaud him for this, and stand behind his decision.
I ask you to do the same. Voice your displeasure and sign the petition to NBC here. Tell them, "Moving Leno's unfair! Stick with the Hair!" For those of you on Facebook, join the group I'm With COCO. If you’re apathetic but like Bill Hicks, listen to him rip Jay Leno on YouTube.
I’m with Coco. Now will someone please explain to me why the hell he’s nicknamed Coco?
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
The Bastard: Can We Just Enjoy a Movie, Please?
I have yet to see Avatar, but it looks like a visual masterpiece, if not the most compelling intellectual fair. Whether I’ve seen it or not is immaterial; I can’t help but get irked by some of the criticism I’ve heard about this movie.
The first ridiculous bit of whining that I’ve come across is that it’s a liberal anti-war movie. Say what? Whether you’re liberal or conservative, does anyone consider themselves pro-war? Think about that for a second. How much of an asshole would you have to be to complain that a movie has a message that denounces sentient beings killing one another? I think you’d have to fall into that exclusive club of nutjobs including Hitler and his Nazi cronies, Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge, and the Manson Family to think, “This whiny, liberal anti-war message just pisses me off!” Regardless of one’s affiliations and affinities, I fail to see how a human being with an ounce of compassion can be pro-war. I can’t help but hope that there’s a special ring of Hell for people who get upset about a movie with an anti-war message. Maybe one where they have to endlessly navigate minefields in the nude while it rains glass and lemon juice.
The other bit of criticism I’ve heard is that the movie is racist. These people are upset because a white man comes to the planet and acts as the savior of the naïve colored natives. Really? Really?! Why does race even enter into this equation? Would this same bit of idiocy be brought up if the main character was black, Asian, or Latino? I doubt it. To these people I say, “Look to your left. Remove chip from shoulder. Look to right. Repeat.”
This has nothing to do with the color of the main character’s skin. Nothing. Sure, you can see it that way if you’d like, but I can also see boobies in a Rorschach test if I really want to. This is the reality of the movie: a man from a technologically advanced civilization infiltrates a technologically primitive civilization, learns to appreciate their way of life, sees the error of his people’s ways, and does his best to save the natives. What matters is that he has knowledge that the blue people don’t. Without that knowledge, they stand little chance of prevailing, not because they are inferior, but because their knowledge is inferior. It’s a bit tough to go from riding animals and hunting with arrows and spears to analyzing, duplicating, and using guns and mech suits. I’ll repeat this point one more time, for the feebs in the back talking on their cell phones: the main character is able to save a race of technologically naïve natives because of his knowledge, not his skin color.
I’ve learned something recently, and it’s a lesson that took me ten years of depression to figure out: you see what you want to see. If you look at the world and want to see racism, you’re going to see it. The same goes for sexism, ageism, and antidisestablishmentarianism. Conversely, if you want to see kindness, altruism, and love, you’ll find that too. With either view you’re going to end up being wrong some of the time and end up with false positives (to borrow a medical term). For example, if you choose to take the former path, you’ll see racism that isn’t there, but if you choose the latter path, you may see kindness where there isn’t any. Given the choice (and I assure you that it is a choice), I’ll take the latter, thank you very much.
I’m tired of focusing on the negativity in the world. As a depressive, I understand that it can be hard to change the way in which one views the world. But it can be done, if imperfectly. So can we all please just sit down, shut the hell up, and allow ourselves to be entertained by a goddam movie?!
The first ridiculous bit of whining that I’ve come across is that it’s a liberal anti-war movie. Say what? Whether you’re liberal or conservative, does anyone consider themselves pro-war? Think about that for a second. How much of an asshole would you have to be to complain that a movie has a message that denounces sentient beings killing one another? I think you’d have to fall into that exclusive club of nutjobs including Hitler and his Nazi cronies, Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge, and the Manson Family to think, “This whiny, liberal anti-war message just pisses me off!” Regardless of one’s affiliations and affinities, I fail to see how a human being with an ounce of compassion can be pro-war. I can’t help but hope that there’s a special ring of Hell for people who get upset about a movie with an anti-war message. Maybe one where they have to endlessly navigate minefields in the nude while it rains glass and lemon juice.
The other bit of criticism I’ve heard is that the movie is racist. These people are upset because a white man comes to the planet and acts as the savior of the naïve colored natives. Really? Really?! Why does race even enter into this equation? Would this same bit of idiocy be brought up if the main character was black, Asian, or Latino? I doubt it. To these people I say, “Look to your left. Remove chip from shoulder. Look to right. Repeat.”
This has nothing to do with the color of the main character’s skin. Nothing. Sure, you can see it that way if you’d like, but I can also see boobies in a Rorschach test if I really want to. This is the reality of the movie: a man from a technologically advanced civilization infiltrates a technologically primitive civilization, learns to appreciate their way of life, sees the error of his people’s ways, and does his best to save the natives. What matters is that he has knowledge that the blue people don’t. Without that knowledge, they stand little chance of prevailing, not because they are inferior, but because their knowledge is inferior. It’s a bit tough to go from riding animals and hunting with arrows and spears to analyzing, duplicating, and using guns and mech suits. I’ll repeat this point one more time, for the feebs in the back talking on their cell phones: the main character is able to save a race of technologically naïve natives because of his knowledge, not his skin color.
I’ve learned something recently, and it’s a lesson that took me ten years of depression to figure out: you see what you want to see. If you look at the world and want to see racism, you’re going to see it. The same goes for sexism, ageism, and antidisestablishmentarianism. Conversely, if you want to see kindness, altruism, and love, you’ll find that too. With either view you’re going to end up being wrong some of the time and end up with false positives (to borrow a medical term). For example, if you choose to take the former path, you’ll see racism that isn’t there, but if you choose the latter path, you may see kindness where there isn’t any. Given the choice (and I assure you that it is a choice), I’ll take the latter, thank you very much.
I’m tired of focusing on the negativity in the world. As a depressive, I understand that it can be hard to change the way in which one views the world. But it can be done, if imperfectly. So can we all please just sit down, shut the hell up, and allow ourselves to be entertained by a goddam movie?!
By George: A Rebuttal
This blog was originally released on August 17th, 2008.
I won’t normally do requests in this blog, but I was asked for an opinion about this article, and couldn’t resist (and it gave me a chance to learn just enough HTML to embed that link. Yay!). The article seems to be, at least in part, a response to the new Star Wars: Clone Wars animated flick that premieres this month. Essentially, the author begs George Lucas to stop making movies.
This seems to be a popular opinion among the geek population, and it’s one I definitely understand. Many people were able to overlook the tinkering Lucas did with the original trilogy, despite the narcissistic undertones of the project. Yeah, we all hated Greedo shooting first, and adding Jabba into the first movie was ridiculous at best (what kind of mobster allows you to walk away with your kneecaps intact after you step on him?!), but the faithful were willing to put all that aside, because we were so excited to be getting a new chapter in the saga.
And after waiting over 15 long years for a new Star Wars flick, we were all treated to…Jar Jar Binks?! That’s bound to piss people off. The gut reaction from Geek Nation was a unified howl of disbelief, mingled with a side order of outrage. “How could Lucas, the master storyteller who pulled inspiration from such intellectual and cinematic greats as Joseph Campbell and Akira Kurosawa, deliver to us this corny, over-rendered CGI ball of cheese?” complained the geek masses.
Apparently, they’d never really seen the first three movies. They’re just as corny, people. Can you seriously tell me that you can listen to Luke whine about “going to Tashi Station to pick up some power converters” and not feel the need to whack him upside the head with a decommissioned lightsaber? As Bilbo Bagshot (the sage who runs the Fantasy Bazaar comic shop on the show Spaced) once said, is Jar Jar any worse than those fuzzy little Ewoks? Not really. I think that we were treated to a perfect storm of events that revealed Lucas for what he really is: an old-fashioned cornball.
Let’s take a look at some of the projects Lucas has given the world. Original Star Wars trilogy? Corny, but good. Indiana Jones movies? Cheesy, but entertaining (he survived jumping out of a plane by riding an inflatable boat, for God’s sake!). Willow? I love it, but everyone else seems to loathe it for some reason. It’s filled with corny moments nonetheless. Then there are shows like The Ewok Adventure, and the Star Wars Holiday Special (which featured Chewbacca on his home planet of Kashyyyk). I mean, the name of his planet has 3 y’s in it. What part about Lucas’s cornball status is in question here?
All the last trilogy did was expose George for good. The cornball factor was less apparent in his other movies, but the leaps in technology that have been made since have allowed even Lucas’s cheesiest ideas to see fruition. C-3PO “losing his head” on Geonosis in Attack of the Clones is a prime example (Hell, the title “Attack of the Clones” is a prime example, although it has nothing to do with updated tech).
The real question people should be asking themselves is, “Is cheesy really that bad?” True, I’ve always enjoyed self-aware cheesiness (called camp, for the uninitiated) more than the accidental sort, but is there really that much of a difference between the two? You’re still getting cheese.
No, I think the real problem is that this latest trilogy was missing the one thing that the majority of geeks have lost since the first trilogy. No, not their virginity (they’re “saving” that for the girl who will dress up for them as Slave Girl Leia). I’m talking about their sense of childhood wonder. When you’re a kid almost nothing seems corny, so we accepted Ewoks and whiny saviors alike. But as jaded and cynical adults (who, even worse, are sexually frustrated), they are no longer willing or able to overlook the corny parts and enjoy the whole.
Lucas has created an entire universe. To simply attempt such a feat takes some serious cajones. Yes, there are corny patches, but the story as a whole is extremely satisfying. Don’t think this is just about the movies. The original trilogy is great, the second is fine, but the real meat of Lucas’s universe isn’t on the silver screen. It’s in the myriad books and comics that have come since the “Holy Trinity” was released.
Anyone who’s read Timothy Zahn’s Thrawn Trilogy (which stars Luke, Leia and the gang and takes place after Jedi) will tell you they would have much rather seen it made into movies than The Phantom Menace and its two buddies. Anyone who has read the comic book Knights of the Old Republic and seen its wonderfully detailed art will tell you that it blows The Ewok Adventure out of the water.
The reason behind this is simple: these were written by actual writers. Lucas is not a writer; he is an idea man. I know, because we can smell our own kind. Idea men may write and produce works that capture the imagination, but the actual writing is usually adequate at best. Just look at the dialogue in any Star Wars movie. It’s as wooden as R2’s ancient ancestors. But the world he has created is as real and varied as our own. Lucas had created one of the greatest playgrounds in all of creation, and a multitude of writers and artists have made the most of it.
So let’s give old George a break. Instead of acting like spoiled kids on Christmas who didn't get the present they wanted, instead of mocking him for his bad dialogue and cheesy writing, we should be thanking him for creating a place where talented writers and artists can go to let loose and express themselves. I hope that one day I may find myself in such a position, disgruntled geeks and all.
I won’t normally do requests in this blog, but I was asked for an opinion about this article, and couldn’t resist (and it gave me a chance to learn just enough HTML to embed that link. Yay!). The article seems to be, at least in part, a response to the new Star Wars: Clone Wars animated flick that premieres this month. Essentially, the author begs George Lucas to stop making movies.
This seems to be a popular opinion among the geek population, and it’s one I definitely understand. Many people were able to overlook the tinkering Lucas did with the original trilogy, despite the narcissistic undertones of the project. Yeah, we all hated Greedo shooting first, and adding Jabba into the first movie was ridiculous at best (what kind of mobster allows you to walk away with your kneecaps intact after you step on him?!), but the faithful were willing to put all that aside, because we were so excited to be getting a new chapter in the saga.
And after waiting over 15 long years for a new Star Wars flick, we were all treated to…Jar Jar Binks?! That’s bound to piss people off. The gut reaction from Geek Nation was a unified howl of disbelief, mingled with a side order of outrage. “How could Lucas, the master storyteller who pulled inspiration from such intellectual and cinematic greats as Joseph Campbell and Akira Kurosawa, deliver to us this corny, over-rendered CGI ball of cheese?” complained the geek masses.
Apparently, they’d never really seen the first three movies. They’re just as corny, people. Can you seriously tell me that you can listen to Luke whine about “going to Tashi Station to pick up some power converters” and not feel the need to whack him upside the head with a decommissioned lightsaber? As Bilbo Bagshot (the sage who runs the Fantasy Bazaar comic shop on the show Spaced) once said, is Jar Jar any worse than those fuzzy little Ewoks? Not really. I think that we were treated to a perfect storm of events that revealed Lucas for what he really is: an old-fashioned cornball.
Let’s take a look at some of the projects Lucas has given the world. Original Star Wars trilogy? Corny, but good. Indiana Jones movies? Cheesy, but entertaining (he survived jumping out of a plane by riding an inflatable boat, for God’s sake!). Willow? I love it, but everyone else seems to loathe it for some reason. It’s filled with corny moments nonetheless. Then there are shows like The Ewok Adventure, and the Star Wars Holiday Special (which featured Chewbacca on his home planet of Kashyyyk). I mean, the name of his planet has 3 y’s in it. What part about Lucas’s cornball status is in question here?
All the last trilogy did was expose George for good. The cornball factor was less apparent in his other movies, but the leaps in technology that have been made since have allowed even Lucas’s cheesiest ideas to see fruition. C-3PO “losing his head” on Geonosis in Attack of the Clones is a prime example (Hell, the title “Attack of the Clones” is a prime example, although it has nothing to do with updated tech).
The real question people should be asking themselves is, “Is cheesy really that bad?” True, I’ve always enjoyed self-aware cheesiness (called camp, for the uninitiated) more than the accidental sort, but is there really that much of a difference between the two? You’re still getting cheese.
No, I think the real problem is that this latest trilogy was missing the one thing that the majority of geeks have lost since the first trilogy. No, not their virginity (they’re “saving” that for the girl who will dress up for them as Slave Girl Leia). I’m talking about their sense of childhood wonder. When you’re a kid almost nothing seems corny, so we accepted Ewoks and whiny saviors alike. But as jaded and cynical adults (who, even worse, are sexually frustrated), they are no longer willing or able to overlook the corny parts and enjoy the whole.
Lucas has created an entire universe. To simply attempt such a feat takes some serious cajones. Yes, there are corny patches, but the story as a whole is extremely satisfying. Don’t think this is just about the movies. The original trilogy is great, the second is fine, but the real meat of Lucas’s universe isn’t on the silver screen. It’s in the myriad books and comics that have come since the “Holy Trinity” was released.
Anyone who’s read Timothy Zahn’s Thrawn Trilogy (which stars Luke, Leia and the gang and takes place after Jedi) will tell you they would have much rather seen it made into movies than The Phantom Menace and its two buddies. Anyone who has read the comic book Knights of the Old Republic and seen its wonderfully detailed art will tell you that it blows The Ewok Adventure out of the water.
The reason behind this is simple: these were written by actual writers. Lucas is not a writer; he is an idea man. I know, because we can smell our own kind. Idea men may write and produce works that capture the imagination, but the actual writing is usually adequate at best. Just look at the dialogue in any Star Wars movie. It’s as wooden as R2’s ancient ancestors. But the world he has created is as real and varied as our own. Lucas had created one of the greatest playgrounds in all of creation, and a multitude of writers and artists have made the most of it.
So let’s give old George a break. Instead of acting like spoiled kids on Christmas who didn't get the present they wanted, instead of mocking him for his bad dialogue and cheesy writing, we should be thanking him for creating a place where talented writers and artists can go to let loose and express themselves. I hope that one day I may find myself in such a position, disgruntled geeks and all.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
The Buddhist: Meaninglessness & Its Meaning*
This is a slightly modified version of a blog originally written on July 26th, 2008.
I was lying in bed late one night, trying to wrap my brain around the meaning of existence, when I was confronted with the enormity of the universe. Its vastness in both time and space is truly incomprehensible to the human mind, but that didn't stop me from trying to understand it.
Let's put down our burgers and remotes and think about this for a second. One hundred years ago, our use of electricity was still in its infancy and Ford had only been making cars for about five years. Go back one thousand years (a period of time already hard to grasp), and the Roman Empire had been dead for over five hundred years and it'd be nearly another five hundred until Columbus "discovers" the Americas. Ten thousand years ago, there was not a written word to be found on the face of the planet. Jump back four to eight million years and you get our ancestral line breaking off from our nearest relatives, the chimps and bonobos.
Fewer than ten million years into the past and *poof* any sign of man is gone. Go back sixty-five million years and you'll see the end of the dinosaurs. About four billions years in the past, and you'll get the beginnings of life on this planet. Another five hundred million years or so will get you the formation of the Earth, and even that is only in the most recent third of the universe's estimated 13.73 billion years of existence.
13.73 billion years. In an industrialized nation such as the US, your average individual is going to have a life span of approximately seventy-five years. How could anything we do in 75 measly little years matter, compared to 13.73 billion? The answer is simple: it doesn't. Nothing you or I do will matter in the grand scheme of things. We could destroy this entire planet and the universe wouldn't even notice.
Some people may find this depressing. I find it comforting. First of all, this knowledge assures me that, no matter how badly I screw up, in the end, none of my mistakes will be that important. Second, it means that we have to create our own meaning.
We all experience life in different ways. Two people can take part in the same event and have two completely different experiences (think of the fans rooting for opposite teams at a football game). The only difference is their perception of what occurred, and this is influenced by the unique experiences each individual had when growing up, how and where they were raised, etc. In a certain sense, all we are is a jumble of mobile associations, associations that form through the interaction of genetics and environment, and are expressed through personality and behavior. We can take some measure of control over our lives by recognizing these associations and attempting to alter them when they are faulty. Instead of thinking, "I failed, therefore I suck," try "I failed, therefore I suck at this (at least for now)."
We're all dying. There's no escape. The only way to reach any measure of immortality is to affect the people around you in such a way that they remember you when you're gone. (Unless you believe in an afterlife, in which case you'll be hangin' with His Holiness for eternity. Hopefully.) This kind of immortality is achieved through acts both good and bad (think Gandhi vs. Hitler).
So what do you want to be remembered for? Money? Fame? Power? Personally, I'd like to be remembered the way I remember my Grandma: as someone who, though flawed, did her best to end up a better person than she was when she started, and who tried to help others achieve the same goal. I don't need the entire world (or any of it, really) to remember me, but it'd provide a small measure of comfort on my deathbed to know that I made those close to me just a tiny bit better.
We are all flawed. The trick is to not only recognize this truth (and accept it), but to see it as a starting point for growth.
*Thanks to Wiki for allowing me to double check some of the specifics of this blog. They're probably wrong, but it's easier than hunting through mounds of textbooks.
I was lying in bed late one night, trying to wrap my brain around the meaning of existence, when I was confronted with the enormity of the universe. Its vastness in both time and space is truly incomprehensible to the human mind, but that didn't stop me from trying to understand it.
Let's put down our burgers and remotes and think about this for a second. One hundred years ago, our use of electricity was still in its infancy and Ford had only been making cars for about five years. Go back one thousand years (a period of time already hard to grasp), and the Roman Empire had been dead for over five hundred years and it'd be nearly another five hundred until Columbus "discovers" the Americas. Ten thousand years ago, there was not a written word to be found on the face of the planet. Jump back four to eight million years and you get our ancestral line breaking off from our nearest relatives, the chimps and bonobos.
Fewer than ten million years into the past and *poof* any sign of man is gone. Go back sixty-five million years and you'll see the end of the dinosaurs. About four billions years in the past, and you'll get the beginnings of life on this planet. Another five hundred million years or so will get you the formation of the Earth, and even that is only in the most recent third of the universe's estimated 13.73 billion years of existence.
13.73 billion years. In an industrialized nation such as the US, your average individual is going to have a life span of approximately seventy-five years. How could anything we do in 75 measly little years matter, compared to 13.73 billion? The answer is simple: it doesn't. Nothing you or I do will matter in the grand scheme of things. We could destroy this entire planet and the universe wouldn't even notice.
Some people may find this depressing. I find it comforting. First of all, this knowledge assures me that, no matter how badly I screw up, in the end, none of my mistakes will be that important. Second, it means that we have to create our own meaning.
We all experience life in different ways. Two people can take part in the same event and have two completely different experiences (think of the fans rooting for opposite teams at a football game). The only difference is their perception of what occurred, and this is influenced by the unique experiences each individual had when growing up, how and where they were raised, etc. In a certain sense, all we are is a jumble of mobile associations, associations that form through the interaction of genetics and environment, and are expressed through personality and behavior. We can take some measure of control over our lives by recognizing these associations and attempting to alter them when they are faulty. Instead of thinking, "I failed, therefore I suck," try "I failed, therefore I suck at this (at least for now)."
We're all dying. There's no escape. The only way to reach any measure of immortality is to affect the people around you in such a way that they remember you when you're gone. (Unless you believe in an afterlife, in which case you'll be hangin' with His Holiness for eternity. Hopefully.) This kind of immortality is achieved through acts both good and bad (think Gandhi vs. Hitler).
So what do you want to be remembered for? Money? Fame? Power? Personally, I'd like to be remembered the way I remember my Grandma: as someone who, though flawed, did her best to end up a better person than she was when she started, and who tried to help others achieve the same goal. I don't need the entire world (or any of it, really) to remember me, but it'd provide a small measure of comfort on my deathbed to know that I made those close to me just a tiny bit better.
We are all flawed. The trick is to not only recognize this truth (and accept it), but to see it as a starting point for growth.
*Thanks to Wiki for allowing me to double check some of the specifics of this blog. They're probably wrong, but it's easier than hunting through mounds of textbooks.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Introducing The Buddhist & The Bastard
Polymathic J: The Octopus’s Garden will often feature blogs written from the perspective of either the Buddhist or the Bastard. While that little “About Me” box to the right explains things a bit, I thought formal introductions might not go amiss. Guys, say hi to everyone.
The Bastard: Seriously? This is the best idea you could come up with today? It’s moronic. First of all, I’m not a little monkey here to amuse people. Second, how cheesy is this shit?
The Buddhist: I don’t know…doesn’t seem so bad to me. And cheesy or not, why can’t “cheesy” and “bad” be mutually exclusive? We like plenty of cheesy movies. And, come to think of it, why is “cheesy” a colloquialism for bad, anyway? Cheese is quite tasty. We’ve got at least three different kinds in the fridge at this very moment.
The Bastard: Jesus, here we go. Please, expound upon the subject of cheese for us. I’m sure the masses will find a cheese lecture to be utterly stimulating.
The Buddhist: No need to get snippy. I was just thinking out loud. Although I must admit to wishing we had some Piave Vecchio. That Pecorino Romano isn’t as good as I’d hoped. Goes quite well with Wheat Thins, though…
The Bastard: Yeah, that Piave is good…dammit, why the hell are we talking about cheese?!
The Buddhist: Well, what would you like to talk about?
The Bastard: How about we talk about how batshit this is? He’s like a ventriloquist with no dummies.
Polymathic J: Hey, leave me out of this. I just wanted to introduce you to everyone. Besides, everyone who knows me is already well aware of the fact that I’ve got a screw loose.
The Bastard: Just one? I’m not the one having a conversation with myself.
The Buddhist: Aren’t you?
The Bastard: No, I—well, kinda. This hurts my brain.
Polymathic J: Ok, I’ll make it easy on you. Why don’t you simply explain a little bit about how you view the world? Buddhist, why don’t you go first?
The Buddhist: Hmmmm, ok. Well, I believe that people are inherently good, but are capable of getting so lost or damaged that they do bad things.
Polymathic J: Care to elaborate?
The Buddhist: Well, imagine that every person is a glass lantern. Everyone has a light within them that shines through the glass.
Polymathic J: I’m with you so far…
The Buddhist: The light never goes out so long as the person lives, but our experiences and the way we live our lives can cause the glass to get dirty. Abuse, addictions, mental disorders…all these things muck up the glass, making the light harder to see. I’m sure there are people out there with glass so dark you might find it hard to believe there’s a light contained within. But it’s there.
The Bastard: Bullshit. What about someone like Hitler?
The Buddhist: I’ve seen footage of Hitler in his last days, and there is a pronounced tremor in his arm. It seems to be indicative of Parkinson’s disease. And I’ve heard that some of Hitler’s early writings suggest that he may have gotten syphilis at some point. Syphilis has been known to cause serious mental abnormalities, and having one’s body fail oneself when the brain has already experienced great insult is bound to leave one with anger issues.
The Bastard: So you think Hitler killed over six million Jews because he was upset that he had Parkinson’s and some skank gave him VD?
The Buddhist: No, I’m simply saying that those may have been contributing factors. I’ve also heard that his personal physician got him hooked on daily injections of amphetamines and other goodies. High doses of amphetamines are known to cause psychosis. One or more of these issues may have exacerbated pre-existing problems derived from genetic or environmental factors. This does not excuse his actions, of course. I merely seek to offer possible (partial) explanations for what he did. Don’t forget that he was once an artist. He wanted to be a painter, but either didn’t have the natural gift or the tenacity to excel at it. Regardless, that speaks of a certain sensitivity that most people would not believe that he possessed. How horrible would it be if Hitler was a good man driven mad by disappointment and exposure to a lowly bacterium? That would be a tragedy to make even Sophocles weep.
The Bastard: Wow, dude. You’re not gonna make many friends defending Hitler.
The Buddhist: I simply seek to point out that we cannot know everything about a man. Is it not insane to desire the death of an entire race of people? If you believe it is, and if you believe that an insane man is not responsible for his actions (as I do), then should that man not be viewed with pity, rather than hatred?
Polymathic J: I am totally going to get hate mail for this.
The Buddhist: That may be, but I refuse to silence myself simply because my views defy convention. If anything, that’s all the more reason to share them. There is enough hate in this world. Perhaps it would be a better place if we attempted to understand what is unknown to us, especially when what is unknown makes us uncomfortable. His actions were obviously repellant and misguided, but hating him does nothing to change what he did.
Polymathic J: Ooookay. We better move on before the death threats start. Bastard?
The Bastard: Isn’t my name self-explanatory? I’m a jerk. I think people are selfish, self-absorbed pieces of crap. Give your average human a choice between helping themselves and helping someone else, and they’re going to help themselves 99.9% of the time.
The Buddhist: Do you include yourself in that?
The Bastard: Of course. I may be a bastard, but I’m an honest bastard. I find it hard to see why I should help someone when they wouldn’t even consider helping me. You gotta look out for Numero Uno. No one else will. Don’t forget that I’m a delivery driver. I rely on the kindness of strangers for a living, and it’s a poor living indeed.
The Buddhist: But what if the people you deliver to can’t afford to tip you well? Shouldn’t you consider their situation, rather than just your own?
The Bastard: I could say the same thing about them. If they don’t have the money to tip, then they should come to the store and pick up their pizzas themselves. Instead, they do what’s convenient for them, and say “Screw that guy bringing the pizza. He should get a better job.” That’s humanity in a nutshell: “Screw him; his problems are his fault, so why should I help?”
The Buddhist: I must admit that that attitude is disturbingly prevalent in today’s society.
The Bastard: You’re damn right it is. So why should I be kind, if it’s just going to lead to people taking advantage of me?
The Buddhist: Well, you’ve got one thing that many people do not have: an awareness of the problem. How can one fix a problem when one is unaware of it? Perhaps you should lead by example. Perhaps your kindness could illuminate the issue for others by providing a contrast to the norm. Perhaps you should listen to Gandhi’s words: “Be the change you want to see in the world.”
The Bastard: Fuck that. That’s your job.
The Buddhist: Touché.
Polymathic J: I think that’ll do for now. Say goodbye, guys.
The Buddhist & The Bastard: “Goodbye, guys.”
The Bastard: Seriously? This is the best idea you could come up with today? It’s moronic. First of all, I’m not a little monkey here to amuse people. Second, how cheesy is this shit?
The Buddhist: I don’t know…doesn’t seem so bad to me. And cheesy or not, why can’t “cheesy” and “bad” be mutually exclusive? We like plenty of cheesy movies. And, come to think of it, why is “cheesy” a colloquialism for bad, anyway? Cheese is quite tasty. We’ve got at least three different kinds in the fridge at this very moment.
The Bastard: Jesus, here we go. Please, expound upon the subject of cheese for us. I’m sure the masses will find a cheese lecture to be utterly stimulating.
The Buddhist: No need to get snippy. I was just thinking out loud. Although I must admit to wishing we had some Piave Vecchio. That Pecorino Romano isn’t as good as I’d hoped. Goes quite well with Wheat Thins, though…
The Bastard: Yeah, that Piave is good…dammit, why the hell are we talking about cheese?!
The Buddhist: Well, what would you like to talk about?
The Bastard: How about we talk about how batshit this is? He’s like a ventriloquist with no dummies.
Polymathic J: Hey, leave me out of this. I just wanted to introduce you to everyone. Besides, everyone who knows me is already well aware of the fact that I’ve got a screw loose.
The Bastard: Just one? I’m not the one having a conversation with myself.
The Buddhist: Aren’t you?
The Bastard: No, I—well, kinda. This hurts my brain.
Polymathic J: Ok, I’ll make it easy on you. Why don’t you simply explain a little bit about how you view the world? Buddhist, why don’t you go first?
The Buddhist: Hmmmm, ok. Well, I believe that people are inherently good, but are capable of getting so lost or damaged that they do bad things.
Polymathic J: Care to elaborate?
The Buddhist: Well, imagine that every person is a glass lantern. Everyone has a light within them that shines through the glass.
Polymathic J: I’m with you so far…
The Buddhist: The light never goes out so long as the person lives, but our experiences and the way we live our lives can cause the glass to get dirty. Abuse, addictions, mental disorders…all these things muck up the glass, making the light harder to see. I’m sure there are people out there with glass so dark you might find it hard to believe there’s a light contained within. But it’s there.
The Bastard: Bullshit. What about someone like Hitler?
The Buddhist: I’ve seen footage of Hitler in his last days, and there is a pronounced tremor in his arm. It seems to be indicative of Parkinson’s disease. And I’ve heard that some of Hitler’s early writings suggest that he may have gotten syphilis at some point. Syphilis has been known to cause serious mental abnormalities, and having one’s body fail oneself when the brain has already experienced great insult is bound to leave one with anger issues.
The Bastard: So you think Hitler killed over six million Jews because he was upset that he had Parkinson’s and some skank gave him VD?
The Buddhist: No, I’m simply saying that those may have been contributing factors. I’ve also heard that his personal physician got him hooked on daily injections of amphetamines and other goodies. High doses of amphetamines are known to cause psychosis. One or more of these issues may have exacerbated pre-existing problems derived from genetic or environmental factors. This does not excuse his actions, of course. I merely seek to offer possible (partial) explanations for what he did. Don’t forget that he was once an artist. He wanted to be a painter, but either didn’t have the natural gift or the tenacity to excel at it. Regardless, that speaks of a certain sensitivity that most people would not believe that he possessed. How horrible would it be if Hitler was a good man driven mad by disappointment and exposure to a lowly bacterium? That would be a tragedy to make even Sophocles weep.
The Bastard: Wow, dude. You’re not gonna make many friends defending Hitler.
The Buddhist: I simply seek to point out that we cannot know everything about a man. Is it not insane to desire the death of an entire race of people? If you believe it is, and if you believe that an insane man is not responsible for his actions (as I do), then should that man not be viewed with pity, rather than hatred?
Polymathic J: I am totally going to get hate mail for this.
The Buddhist: That may be, but I refuse to silence myself simply because my views defy convention. If anything, that’s all the more reason to share them. There is enough hate in this world. Perhaps it would be a better place if we attempted to understand what is unknown to us, especially when what is unknown makes us uncomfortable. His actions were obviously repellant and misguided, but hating him does nothing to change what he did.
Polymathic J: Ooookay. We better move on before the death threats start. Bastard?
The Bastard: Isn’t my name self-explanatory? I’m a jerk. I think people are selfish, self-absorbed pieces of crap. Give your average human a choice between helping themselves and helping someone else, and they’re going to help themselves 99.9% of the time.
The Buddhist: Do you include yourself in that?
The Bastard: Of course. I may be a bastard, but I’m an honest bastard. I find it hard to see why I should help someone when they wouldn’t even consider helping me. You gotta look out for Numero Uno. No one else will. Don’t forget that I’m a delivery driver. I rely on the kindness of strangers for a living, and it’s a poor living indeed.
The Buddhist: But what if the people you deliver to can’t afford to tip you well? Shouldn’t you consider their situation, rather than just your own?
The Bastard: I could say the same thing about them. If they don’t have the money to tip, then they should come to the store and pick up their pizzas themselves. Instead, they do what’s convenient for them, and say “Screw that guy bringing the pizza. He should get a better job.” That’s humanity in a nutshell: “Screw him; his problems are his fault, so why should I help?”
The Buddhist: I must admit that that attitude is disturbingly prevalent in today’s society.
The Bastard: You’re damn right it is. So why should I be kind, if it’s just going to lead to people taking advantage of me?
The Buddhist: Well, you’ve got one thing that many people do not have: an awareness of the problem. How can one fix a problem when one is unaware of it? Perhaps you should lead by example. Perhaps your kindness could illuminate the issue for others by providing a contrast to the norm. Perhaps you should listen to Gandhi’s words: “Be the change you want to see in the world.”
The Bastard: Fuck that. That’s your job.
The Buddhist: Touché.
Polymathic J: I think that’ll do for now. Say goodbye, guys.
The Buddhist & The Bastard: “Goodbye, guys.”
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