It must be the mixture of inappropriate humour and fast paced legal talk that so attracts me to this show. Right. There's also William Shatner and the somewhat odd but oh-so-brilliant James Spader. He deserved every Emmy he has received.
I like Alan Shore's style. (Are all these lawyer types full of annoying idiosyncracies?) I can't honestly say that I understand that character, because it requires tremendous effort to see through his bluffing--or perhaps emotional bulwark, I don't know which--and I just do not know what sort of a person he really is. But, I like his style. The passion with which he closes is something that I aspire to achieve, and more than that, to exercise, because I've always believed that I have the potential in me.
Why didn't I watch this earlier? It's already season five, which means I have about 80 episodes to catch up, totalling 60 hours. ...Astonishing. Perhaps I can work that into my GRE and GMAT writing preparation. --Ha! I should be rewarded for my ingenuity.
Moving on.
Passion really is the first thing that goes as we age. From first-hand experience I can tell you that I'm not nearly as engrossed in or devoted to my undertakings as I was even a mere two years ago, when I still had hopes and dreams; and from second-hand experience--here's the clencher--it seems that the departing of passion is only a symptom of a much more gruesome underlying disease:
Disillusionment. Disenchantment. Dissatisfaction. Disappointment.
What I don't buy is how Alan could react so well to Denny's little ego-boosting "pep talk." He was obviously resigned to the fact that no more progress could be made with the woman from whom he walked away. Well, that makes things easier: to recover when one is already cured. But how to make that first step? Must time and emotional distance be involved?
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
cause and effect
"Of course it was cause and effect, but in the necessity with which one follows the other lay all the tragedy of life." --Of Human Bondage, p. 365
Philip was lamenting Cronshaw's imminent death due to his liver condition, but his rather bitter observation carries more relevance than that in the narrative.Yesterday we bought a squeaky toy for Kayla, since all her other ones were broken. It consisted of a plastic squeaker encased in a soft, plushy pillow in the shape of a bone. She was overjoyed the moment she got a hold of it, and easily found the spot she needs to bite to get it to squeak. She ran around the kitchen happily, tossing and pouncing on the furiously chirping toy. Within an hour, she had broken the squeaker, and the toy became nothing more than a sopping wet cotton ball. A little discomfited, Kayla sought still that spot--any spot--that caused the toy to make that happy sound, but to no avail.
Watching this, I quietly mused, does she not know that if she plays with it too roughly, she'll break it, and then she'll have nothing to play with any more? --Of course not: she's only a dog. But is that understanding of cause and effect what separates man from beast? How many humans don't know the consequences of dangerous behaviours like drinking and driving, or even chronic drinking that leads to liver conditions and to death?
Philip was lamenting Cronshaw's imminent death due to his liver condition, but his rather bitter observation carries more relevance than that in the narrative.Yesterday we bought a squeaky toy for Kayla, since all her other ones were broken. It consisted of a plastic squeaker encased in a soft, plushy pillow in the shape of a bone. She was overjoyed the moment she got a hold of it, and easily found the spot she needs to bite to get it to squeak. She ran around the kitchen happily, tossing and pouncing on the furiously chirping toy. Within an hour, she had broken the squeaker, and the toy became nothing more than a sopping wet cotton ball. A little discomfited, Kayla sought still that spot--any spot--that caused the toy to make that happy sound, but to no avail.
Watching this, I quietly mused, does she not know that if she plays with it too roughly, she'll break it, and then she'll have nothing to play with any more? --Of course not: she's only a dog. But is that understanding of cause and effect what separates man from beast? How many humans don't know the consequences of dangerous behaviours like drinking and driving, or even chronic drinking that leads to liver conditions and to death?
Losing faith (Archive: 2008-01-15 1:33AM)
The events of late have shaken my already-weakened faith in the world. For the longest time, I've held the somewhat naive but hopeful belief that most humans are mostly good and never seriously considered that there might be true evil in the world. Sure, there are characters in novels and operas, but even they deserve some sympathy--not to mention that I've always considered it a great depth in the arts where heroes and villains are multifaceted and therefore real human beings.
...And isn't art a mirror to nature?
Evil, as it turns out, is not so easy to define. To an ever-optimistic person, evil is akin to a tragic flaw and not at all a despicable quality. --Oh but Optimism is quite mistaken! There actually exist people who are completely devoid of any ethics common to the rest of the species, and who have never felt shame in lying and manipulating others solely for their own material gain.
I had the misfortune of dealing with at least two of these rotten apples so far in my life and have recently been almost irreparably disillusioned. Even for a time before this, I had been feeling the creeping darkness of the world closing in on me and grinding me down, but I fought to stay true to who I am.
I am a self-proclaimed Humanist.
I do not believe in God, the Afterlife, or any of the associated supernatural concepts.
I have faith in Man and Nature.
I trust that, even though today we may not be the best we can be, we are always striving to be better the next day, and the next one after that.
I vow that to understand others and to forgive them are the most important things I can do for others.
--But wait: what of all that? How many people actually think like that? Will that population be self-sufficient, or will they eventually be infected by the rest of the evil zombies? Bad people get away with so much, while good people pay the price by supporting those bums and still having to lock their doors at night. If you help others once, they will shamelessly expect you to give them allowances again next time; and if you fail to deliver, you will have lost more than what little good faith you had before the first act of kindness. How backward is that? How can the human race progress when the overall principle is a zero-sum game and every dirty trick is allowed and even rewarded?
What, then, can the few good people do? There is certainly no place to seek (this-worldly) justice. There wouldn't even be a place to complain if good people didn't have some sort of support network. But here's the real kick in the crotch: There shouldn't be retribution, because, as the saying goes, if we stoop to their level, blah, blah, blah....
Luckily, my hope hasn't been completely obliterated: as soon as the Hollywood writers are back to work I will have the wisdom of Grey's Anatomy on my side.
And all you bad people out there (you know who you are)...
...Go to Hell.
...And isn't art a mirror to nature?
Evil, as it turns out, is not so easy to define. To an ever-optimistic person, evil is akin to a tragic flaw and not at all a despicable quality. --Oh but Optimism is quite mistaken! There actually exist people who are completely devoid of any ethics common to the rest of the species, and who have never felt shame in lying and manipulating others solely for their own material gain.
I had the misfortune of dealing with at least two of these rotten apples so far in my life and have recently been almost irreparably disillusioned. Even for a time before this, I had been feeling the creeping darkness of the world closing in on me and grinding me down, but I fought to stay true to who I am.
I am a self-proclaimed Humanist.
I do not believe in God, the Afterlife, or any of the associated supernatural concepts.
I have faith in Man and Nature.
I trust that, even though today we may not be the best we can be, we are always striving to be better the next day, and the next one after that.
I vow that to understand others and to forgive them are the most important things I can do for others.
--But wait: what of all that? How many people actually think like that? Will that population be self-sufficient, or will they eventually be infected by the rest of the evil zombies? Bad people get away with so much, while good people pay the price by supporting those bums and still having to lock their doors at night. If you help others once, they will shamelessly expect you to give them allowances again next time; and if you fail to deliver, you will have lost more than what little good faith you had before the first act of kindness. How backward is that? How can the human race progress when the overall principle is a zero-sum game and every dirty trick is allowed and even rewarded?
What, then, can the few good people do? There is certainly no place to seek (this-worldly) justice. There wouldn't even be a place to complain if good people didn't have some sort of support network. But here's the real kick in the crotch: There shouldn't be retribution, because, as the saying goes, if we stoop to their level, blah, blah, blah....
Luckily, my hope hasn't been completely obliterated: as soon as the Hollywood writers are back to work I will have the wisdom of Grey's Anatomy on my side.
And all you bad people out there (you know who you are)...
...Go to Hell.
Wish I were elsewhere... (Archive: 2006-11-13 6:09AM)
Ever had one of those days--usually rainy days--when you just can't get anything done, and the only thing you WANT to do, if you can get past the guilt of not being productive, is to just curl up in bed with a good book, and read till your mind drifts elsewhere? Whatever happened to that simple joy in life? Why can't we just sit and read a good book any more?
Torrid biophysics love affairs aside, there really is more to life than all this LaTeXing. Seriously. If I won the lottery, I would just read. For starters, I'd finish Something Rotten. I bought it in the summer and haven't even flipped beyond the dramatis personnae--yes, there's a dramatis personnae, isn't that just so tempting? --But no. Not until Christmas.
Books will never betray you, unlike true love (whatever the bleep that may be), and certainly much more reliable even than science (which is, yet again, kicking me in the shins with a steel-toed boot). Books are solid and warm. They are always there and they always have time for you. They DON'T say you're pressuring or needy or misinterpreting, and obey YOU instead of the other way around. You don't need to wrestle with them--unless you choose to, and God help you if that happens--and all you need to do is to read them, feel them, and live them. Ah, the wonders of books!
It's not about escaping--oh, no; it's about readjusting, like pushing a reset button that takes anywhere from hours to days to reload and resume the original process, so that you have time to uh...regroup, and come back stronger than ever. Or something like that, you decide. But the point is, the world fades away while you've got a good book between your hands, two pet mice sleeping in a cage next to you, and a cup of freshly brewed Whittard's strong traditional Earl Grey. --If I had a million dollars.
So while I'm financially yet-to-be-secure and undecided about my future, books are on hold, even though they're like a drug to me especially when I'm neck-deep in compiling crap and waiting for somebody else's finals to be over. For those of you who are fortunate enough to not share my predicament, take heed and read!
Read, my friends, until the proverbial cows come home--or even the real ones, whichever take longer! Let not the burden of a non-descriptive world destroy your hopes and dreams! --Go forth now and read a good book!
Torrid biophysics love affairs aside, there really is more to life than all this LaTeXing. Seriously. If I won the lottery, I would just read. For starters, I'd finish Something Rotten. I bought it in the summer and haven't even flipped beyond the dramatis personnae--yes, there's a dramatis personnae, isn't that just so tempting? --But no. Not until Christmas.
Books will never betray you, unlike true love (whatever the bleep that may be), and certainly much more reliable even than science (which is, yet again, kicking me in the shins with a steel-toed boot). Books are solid and warm. They are always there and they always have time for you. They DON'T say you're pressuring or needy or misinterpreting, and obey YOU instead of the other way around. You don't need to wrestle with them--unless you choose to, and God help you if that happens--and all you need to do is to read them, feel them, and live them. Ah, the wonders of books!
It's not about escaping--oh, no; it's about readjusting, like pushing a reset button that takes anywhere from hours to days to reload and resume the original process, so that you have time to uh...regroup, and come back stronger than ever. Or something like that, you decide. But the point is, the world fades away while you've got a good book between your hands, two pet mice sleeping in a cage next to you, and a cup of freshly brewed Whittard's strong traditional Earl Grey. --If I had a million dollars.
So while I'm financially yet-to-be-secure and undecided about my future, books are on hold, even though they're like a drug to me especially when I'm neck-deep in compiling crap and waiting for somebody else's finals to be over. For those of you who are fortunate enough to not share my predicament, take heed and read!
Read, my friends, until the proverbial cows come home--or even the real ones, whichever take longer! Let not the burden of a non-descriptive world destroy your hopes and dreams! --Go forth now and read a good book!
When a good person dies... (Archive: 2005-09-24 7:41PM)
Another season of House so far off to a wonderful start. I didn't get to watch it until just now because I was out last night (happy b-day again, L.C.).
"Don't make friends with terminally ill patients."
?
Cameron's response to that is worth noting:
"When a good person dies, there should be an impact on the world. Someone should notice. Someone should be upset."
Good, decent people are rare now--indeed, those who survive the temptation to defect to the dark side of human nature are, to their eternal dismay and betrayal, subjected to scoffs, jealousy, suspicion, and other hostilities both overt and concealed. It is sad enough that society has fragmented under the guise and pressure of globalization, but it is a much more deplorable moral decadence on our part to add onto that the apathy of letting kind, patient, and helpful individuals pass us by without getting to know them, without acknowledging their laudable character, and without assisting them--since we ourselves are either incapable or unwilling--to contribute an ever-so-minuscule shred of hope to this otherwise pathetic existence. --Utterly deplorable!
And so, my friends, I urge each and every one of you to seek out, not new life and new civilizations, but rather extant albeit unsung heroes of our here and now--even right next to you.
They're crying out for companionship, for recognition, and for human contact.
Find them. Save them. So that they may save the world, one at a time, starting with you.
Or, let them stay obscured, lonely, worn down by this miserable world, and die without their disappointed whimper being heard by the blind, selfish, and callous drones.
quid pro quo
"Don't make friends with terminally ill patients."
?
Cameron's response to that is worth noting:
"When a good person dies, there should be an impact on the world. Someone should notice. Someone should be upset."
Good, decent people are rare now--indeed, those who survive the temptation to defect to the dark side of human nature are, to their eternal dismay and betrayal, subjected to scoffs, jealousy, suspicion, and other hostilities both overt and concealed. It is sad enough that society has fragmented under the guise and pressure of globalization, but it is a much more deplorable moral decadence on our part to add onto that the apathy of letting kind, patient, and helpful individuals pass us by without getting to know them, without acknowledging their laudable character, and without assisting them--since we ourselves are either incapable or unwilling--to contribute an ever-so-minuscule shred of hope to this otherwise pathetic existence. --Utterly deplorable!
And so, my friends, I urge each and every one of you to seek out, not new life and new civilizations, but rather extant albeit unsung heroes of our here and now--even right next to you.
They're crying out for companionship, for recognition, and for human contact.
Find them. Save them. So that they may save the world, one at a time, starting with you.
Or, let them stay obscured, lonely, worn down by this miserable world, and die without their disappointed whimper being heard by the blind, selfish, and callous drones.
quid pro quo
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