Be the next to drop.

Familiarity is one of the primary forces behind the human psyche. Some of us are attracted by what is familiar. We find security in what we know, in what we recognize. Others are repelled by familiarites, repelled by what they have in common with others: our parents, our enemies, other races, other religions. These traits that should be the impetus for us coming together as a species, as a people, have lead to atrocity and hatred.

Paradoxcally, I do not believe that it is difference that has driven us apart historically. It is obsession on similiarity that leads to real disgust, that breeds malice in the human heart.

The great Tragedy of Humanity is that we all did come from one common ancestor 60,000 years ago in the Great Rift Valley in Africa. At one point we were all of one creed, one genome and one outlook. It was our genetic survival that depended on the survival of our brothers and sisters. Now, we feel that our cultural survival depends on the senseless deaths of people who in another age, would have been our family.

Ramblings from an (un)sound mind

Why does that shit always scare me?

Cronenberg manages to consistently hit a nerve by incorporating the betrayal of the body in his films. Our very physical person, that which we suppose to have complete control of, goes beyond our control. It goes against its nature, against the good of the whole when its function should be maintenance. Homeostasis compromised by its own mechanisms.

That is fear. Fear that our consciousness could become victim to the biological processes which sustain it. Fear that the spiritual comes to odds against, even subject to, the irrational, animal whims of the material. The flesh left to its own devices becomes cannibalistic, chaotic, perverse and distorted, a direct front against the order and heirarchy propagated by a rational mind.

And even beyond that, on the next level, what happens when the unchecked material distorts the rationality of the consciousness? Madness subjects both the mind and body to a twisted rationale. What is comfortable becomes obscenity and what drives us become delirium.

Yikes, I'm done.

Brrr.

Hold the Lampreys

I thought that King Kong was one of the most entertaining movies I've seen since Batman Begins. It may have its detractors, but it was and engaging narrative with interesting characters (exception: Jimmy) and some fucking awesome special effects. Also, it seconds as an illustrated encyclopedia of my worst fears (all of which involve being eaten):

From least to greatest

1) Being eaten by a giant dinosaur: Generally a fast way to go, unless he starts with the legs.
2) Being eaten by giant Lampreys: Terrible, excruiatingly frustrating way to go as you are slowly digested alive by a toothy monster. I would rather be burned at the stake.
3) Being eaten by a swarm of ravenous insects: I think I've said enough about being eaten, but if there is a swarm of flesh-craving locusts coming, I'll be the one running over the cliff.

One-Armed Boxer vs. Flying Guillotine:

Starring J. Walter Weatherman.

My brain hurt like a warehouse

The irony of life is that we never really understand it until death. What I mean by this is that I don't think that the human mind can appreciate its own demise until it is at that threshold. Until then, don't we all feel immortal? Do we not indeed possess a certain immortality until we die? I suppose that's something of a contradiction, but until you are dead, you can't really be certain that you can die...of course by then the information is useless, but you can only know death by proxy. One can only gain knowledge through their own perceptions of another's death. But what can our perceptions even tell us? We can tell that a body has ceased to work, but beyond that, there is little that we will ever know of death. What we believe in regards to it is ultimately irrelevant, because what we believe can never be based on experiential fact.

Granted, this is a morbid conversation to some, but these topics should never be eschewed for fear of them. What is there to fear in the unknown? What is there to fear of anything? As long as there is life, there is no need for fear, and once there is death (assuming death even exists as we presume it to) fear becomes entirely irrelevant.

... Have you ever noticed that caricatures always seem to look the same no matter whom they are depicting? It seems to me that any "artist" could perfect one look for their caricatures and then change the hair and clothes from case to case. Hell, a dedicated mind could even come up with three or four general purpose caricatures and make a good amount of money drawing pictures that look nothing like anyone.