Artificial Christmas Tree Paradox

Very rarely do I pretend to like Christmas, or even think that it's a good idea.  I am a Christian, and while I realize that the incarnation of deity is a huge deal, its ritual celebration baffles me (I think there's a real reason why we know the dates of Easter and Pentecost, but not Christmas).  But, I could write volumes on my perspective of the holidays.  What presently captivates my attention is the trend toward purchasing artificial Christmas trees, and Christmas trees generally.

Ironies characterize Christmas.  For example, Christmas trees are supposed to symbolize everlasting, everliving love, and that's why Christmas trees are evergreens.  Yet, once a Christmas tree has been severed from its roots, it is dead.  Still, we bring them into our homes and deocrate them. The human equivalent would be slapping lipstick on and putting a touch of bronzer on the T-zone of a corpse to take it to a discotheque as a dance partner.  People aren't generally offended, though, by the smell of dead fir trees...go figure.

The trend of getting a fake tree disturbs me even more.  Rather than symbolize something living with something dead, we choose to convey that eternity with something that never has lived nor ever will live.  To build on the clubbing metaphor, decorating an artificial Christmas tree would be like dancing with a mannequin.  It' certainly easy to care for, but totally fails in its intended capacities.

But, what I find more important, is that this trend perfectly illustrates a deeper, much more alarming trend to embrace display without the necessary, underlying motivations.  We are a society so obsessed with the indisputability of proof and fact that we neglect to tease out why something has really happened.  Many of us celebrate Christmas simply out of tradition, many celebrate it because it's time to spend with family; I think that very few people take the opportunity to realize the immensity of the holiday and the rest become so frazzled, so stressed, and so concerned with their personal displays, however well meaning, that their busyness consumes their actions and they forget to actually worship. 

Es esa realidad que me pone enfadado, confundido, y triste.  Yo deseo que mi familia deje inmediamente los costumbres de la Navidad para celebrar verdaderamente, como una familia, lo que significa que el senor ha venido si mismo a la tierra, lo que significa que el unico Hijo se habia desvistio de su gloria y de su poder para humiliarse para comunicar mas efectivamente avec sus criaturas, lo que significa la eternidad et un amor eterno, lo que significo la unidad.

Me rio de que nosotros pensemos que nuestras esfuerzas para asegurar el gusto de nuestros queridos importan algo.  Esto ne es el caso.  Yo deploro de que seamos seres de una perspectiva limitada.  No tenemos ni idea que que quiera decir "la eterniad."  La verdad es que solemos celebrar sin realizar la importancia del momento y que pensamos que es una buena practica.  O ignoramos nuestras convicciones.  Ningun caso es acceptable.

Las instancias de los arboles artificiales muestran el perder de la fe.  Hemos tomado lo que no tiene ningun valor y queremos que ello nos dice algo significativo.  Hemos perdido nuestra fe superior y tenemos confianzas solamente en nosotros mismos.  El perder de la fe quiere decir que hemos perdido la habilidad de escuchar y responder (somos buenos habladores, pero no sabemos nada de oir).  Este perder significa que somos perdidos, quizas eternamente.

El punto es si you have examined your outward actions to see what they reveal sobre tu persona interior.  Como es your inner condition?  Te gusta?  How are you going to cambiarlo?  Is it que puedes hacer las separate parts into una unica entidad?

Upsetting Parts

The only part of me that I truly hate about myself is the part that convinces me that I don't need to stand by my resolutions.

I'm careful.  Very rarely do I make any decision on impulse (when I do, I usually regret it, so I've mostly given up the practice).  I generally decide something significantly in advance.  In the moment there is too much to consider: Why did she ask the question like that? Is he upset? Have they had an unusually productive day? He looks hispanic, I wonder if he speaks Spanish? Would that build a camaraderie or make him think I'm prejudicial? What form does did she say I would need to show?  Am I in the right line?  There are entire deluges of these questions;  but generally, if I have a goal in mind, I can fjord steadfastly the treacherous waters of that present without any unfortunate consequence.

This is the summary of my experience.  I treasure it because it keeps my world functioning.

However, any deviation from my pretermined course ALWAYS upsets me.  Recently, however, I continue to do it.  I'm afraid now that because I've decided so often not to stick to my decisions, that I have effectively decided not to do what I know I should do, and hence betray my better senses.

Betraying the better senses belies even having them.

UGH!  I'm frustrated with myself.  I made an entire list of "November Resolutions" and have broken every one of them, at least twice.  None of these were major commitments, I just had to do them.  They are the there's-nothing-to-it-but-to-do-it type of resolution, the simple kind.  I promised myself to stop doing some things (to prove to myself that I can stop--eventually I want to stop drinking caffeine, but I'm sure I'm addicted and I need to work my way up to that) like watching debilitating amounts television, and to start doing others, which would require at most thirty minutes of my day.

None of these are a big deal.  But not being able to do them, for me, is a big deal.

There was a time in my life where I could make myself do anything I thought I needed to do...even as recently as last semester.  Somehow, though, I seemed to have lost that power.

The real problem is that I have not got my priorities straight; and to fix that would require so much energy to upset my vital inertia (and numerous fears) that the result would jar everything in my life out of place.  I'm sure, though, that the shakeup would result in a helpful reorganization, for, at present, everything is in disarray.

It's amazing how many of life's "major" problems depend on little issues.  Wish me luck in making myself get over this.  Although, it'll probably take a while...typical.

Craziness

Read this article linked below.  It's mildly disturbing, but almost in an endearing way.

http://www.pioneerlocal.com/skokie/news/1275200,sk-bodiesfound-111308-s1.article

Combine this with the missing student, and it seems like this little suburb will soon be scandal-central.

My Love Affair

When others seize viciously upon one aspect of your personality and disdain the action thereby inspired, I think it necessary, in a spirit of honesty and clarification to offer an explanation.  Thus I examine my incessant need to correct (even if not communicated) others' usage of words.

The issue is that I love grammar.  I just love it.  I felt like I would soon exhaust my explorations into English grammar so I started learning Spanish, and then historical English grammars, then French.  I don't think that my mind shall (Note: the use of "shall" instead of "will" here is significant and imports to the meaning, but is only recognizable if one understands English grammar.) reach satisfaction with its grammatical contents.  Eso sí que es.

So, I frequently, to the annoyance of others, make an effort to inform those others that they have erred.  I'm not trying to demonstrate a superiority or to make someone feel less intelligent.  My motivations are not nearly so selfish.

Because I have a profound appreciation for language conventions, it pains me to see them violated.  Very often I am offended by the flippant disregard paid to English by its "speakers."  Our language is fragile, delicate; it merits preservation on every count.  We, when we speak or write thoughtfully, have the opportunity to save its dignity, to be precise, to communicate effectively without ambiguity.  It makes me sad that others delude themselves by not realizing the fullness of the verbal potential.  If there has been any unilateral, pervasive crime against humanity, this is one.  Especially in pronoun usage.

Everyday I hear someone exchange "that" for "who."  People (and at time, pets) are people.  They should always be thought of as people.  To say "I know a girl that rides her bike," in many ways strips her of her humanity.  It means at the very least that the author of the statement disregarded her humanity in choosing a pronoun to start the relative clause; or, that the author has not had enough human interaction to know that such a pronoun exists.  In either case, the correction is simple, painless, and beneficial for everyone.

I'm not invoking the mock epic, trying to be romantic, or aggrandizing a pet peeve of mine.  Rather, I'm trying to compel you, by the written word in this cae, to examine your own use of language and see how it demonstrates your treatment of others.  If you think about your words carefully, it proves a thoughtful consideration for the hearer of your message.  Conversely, if you begin speaking without regard for structure, word choice, or agreement, then you speak only for yourself and care not for the hearer; it's an exercise of talking, not communicating.  In this case, one brutally forces his or her words at another, not for another.  It might be the most ego(in the Greek, pronomial sense)-centric practice of all.

So many human interactions are governed by rules.  We have driving laws, voting laws, social conventions (like bringing a gift to a birthday party).  There are forms we are expected to uphold; they standardize our behavior, not to inhibit what we do, but so that we can expect judiciously what another will do and thereby improve our own conditions.  Why is this not the case when we write our speak?  Individual self-centeredness and our misunderstanding of oru right to free speech have fed--for scores of years--our selfishness.  How easily we forget that the first root in "communication," is "com-," meaning "together."  Using language should never be a one-sided process; it's always collaborative.  In a true collaboration, there can be no superior, only cohorts seeking to understand one another.

Such is the foundation for my correction of others' language.  There have been (many, many, man) times when I have held my admonitions for I felt that I could be misunderstood, or do more harm than good.  I won't compel you to embrace my idiolect (although, I'm sure the world be a better place if it did!), but I will (Here again, the use of "will" rather than "shall" is important, but often lost.) not tolerate that someone does not consider the implications of his or her words.  Most agree that words have power; why, then, do we not seek to master our skills with such a resource and instead release the battery our words en pleine force to rail against others when, most often, a simple sling would effectively carry our message to another?  Such actions disregard context, character, and listener.

Alas, here I leave you to ruminate such cogitations and determine your own course.  Know that every action has infinite implications, most of which you do not intend; and so in every case it is best to adhere to that standard of conduct that not only limit undesirable ones, but also maximizes the intended ones.

Synecdoche

For the first time in months I went to a movie.  I generally don't like movies; it's just not my scene.  I do see a movie, however, at least once a year because doing so is my family's Christmas tradition.  I think this year, I will triple that rate!  Alas, the frequency I watch movies is unimportant, what is, is the one I just watched--Synecdoche, New York.

I read several reviews before the movie.  One of them claimed that knowing the definition of "Synecdoche" is unimportant to understanding the film.  I intensely disagree.  So, placing first things in their rightful places, synecdoche is a literary device.  It's the substitution of a part for the whole or the whole for the part.  For example, "That's a sweet set of wheels!" is synecdoche because "wheels" replaces "car."  It is not to be confused with metonymy, which is a similar literary device whereby an idea, person, place, association, thing, etc. is replaced by something closely associate with it.  For example, "That's a sweet ride!" is metonymy because "ride" is closely associated with "car," but is not actually a part of it.  Another example is "The White House anounced tody that..."  No house, regardless of color, announces anything.  "White House" can replace President, or Press Secretary, etc.  But, I remind you that, here, only synecdoche matters.

Approaching the movie with this in mind helps to get at the substance of the movie.  It's certainly difficult to comprehend because it's one HUGE convolution, which is probably why I liked it.  If your mind processes information in stages like building a building, you'll probably have a difficult time with this movie.  However, if you're like me and process information like eating the twisty, wrappy, goodness of a cinammon roll with a tendency to get happily lost in your own recursion, then this might be for you.

The movie tells a story, but it doesn't move in a straight line.  The only aspect of this movie that marches constantly forward is time.  The movie uses relatively few flashbacks.  Instead, it twists and spirals ever approaching its meaning without ever quite reaching it.  But because of its circular nature, the film takes on a journey that gets closer to the meaning, but as soon as you get close, you immediately start to move away again in a domineering loop.  But instead of getting frustrated, rememberthat cycles mean that with every second you're moving away you're also moving closer; your next opportunity for apprach comes quickly.

So what are these loops?  I really don't want to spoil the movie for you, but the main ones involve Caden, the main character, searching for his family.  In very real ways he has lost his life's direction and wants to find the beginning of his loop so that maybe he can escape from it.  If you focus on circumstances, this movie is largely depressing: Caden's wife and daughter leave him; his wife's friend tells his daughter lie about how he her and her mother (I think); the next two women he loves leave him; he gets one back and after one intimate night she dies (but they're old at this point in the movie).  In fact, the elusive locus throughout the movie is death, but its significance is at the least enigmatic until the very end.

The end of the movie comes with incredible carnage and isolation, yet with company.  He sees death all around him, and in fact has seen death throughout his life: his parents die, he watches himself--kind of literally--commit suicide, and most things in his life indicate his imminent mortality.  He watches death impact his life and sees his own death come to characterize his life.  He even recognizes (or projects?) characteristics of his immediate death i (to) others.  However, In the final moments Caden isn't himself; it's the first time that he's delved into a life not his own. (If you see this movie, remember this little bit because it's essential.)  "Caden" physically dies, but it's not him who dies, it's Ellen.  So, "Caden" never really dies, but he has already died, yet still lives on in other forms.  It's a statement that undermines the mortal presumption of his life, and consequently undermines his life.

In every sense, nature, and application of the word, Synecdoche, New York is tragic.  It does have light moments too.  There were moments when I did actually laugh out loud, and other moments when I giggled incessantly for minutes.  The giggles were embarassing, I'm glad it was dark.

This is by no means an exhaustive analysis--if can be even callsed that--rather my first impressions.  If you watch the movie, I'd enjoy discussing it with you, especially because there were parts I didn't quite understand.  Still, even if there is no dialogue, I hope you find my thoughts on the subject interesting, maybe even mildly helpful.  Synecdoche, New York treats grave subjects and its worth consideration.