On 'Stuff'

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“Sounds of nature on tape such as rivers and rain

Paint by numbers and Duraflame

Pre-fab houses and astro yards

Collagen lips and credit cards

Is just some of the stuff which I think is grand

Alternative crab meat makes me one happy man

Santa Ana’s at Christmas won’t ruin my plans

I got a video fireplace and snow in a can”

    ~ ‘Snow In A Can’, by Camarillo Eddy

from the Swirling Eddies album “The midget, the speck and the molecule”, 2007

I’ve never had a great sense of sentimentality.  It’s a blessing and a curse.  On one hand, I don’t seem to freely make memories of events and occasions that others often find important.  Many’s the time I’ve found myself in strife because I’ve neglected to remember a birthday or I look blankly when someone asks if I “remember that thing at that place that one time?”.  I have kept few memories from when I was younger, which I guess is any time prior to the present.  The past is something I’ve left behind.  On the positive side, I also keep only a tenuous grasp on ‘things’, the material stuff that one surrounds oneself with a sense of ownership.

What I mean by tenuous is that I try not to hold too tightly on to anything that I own.  I’m calling it a positive because attachment to ‘stuff’ merely causes pain should you lose it.  I found myself in a nasty position in my late 20’s when in the space of a few short months, I lost my partner, a new job I was really starting to sink my teeth into and enjoying, and my home.  Losing things I was attached to hurt.  A more jaded me emerged from this episode hoping to not again feel too attached to things that can be lost.

Value is what we determine it is.  In essence, everything is worth exactly the same amount - what someone is prepared to pay for it, or give up for it.  Not a bit more.  

There’s a great piece of stand-up comedy by the late comedian and social commentator George Carlin (second time I’ve quoted Carlin in a couple of weeks…) which he entitled ‘A Place For My Stuff’ which I’ve always found hilarious and illuminating.  Carlin asks his audience: 

“Have you noticed that [other people’s] stuff is $#!% and your $#!% is stuff?”  

It’s perhaps the most pointed (and funny) observation Carlin makes in the routine.  He goes on and later brings the issue of one’s home into cynical focus:

“That’s all your house is, it’s a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get... more stuff!”  

He goes on to discuss the necessity to move house because you’ve got “too much stuff”.  Of course, Carlin uses exaggeration to great effect, but like all good satire, there’s truth to be found amongst the guffaws.

Chuck Palahniuk’s dark, nihilistic 1996 novel Fight Club has quite a bit to say on the topic too.  The book’s narrator loses the majority of his worldly possessions fairly early on in the book.  He speaks of a “nesting instinct” and states:

“You buy furniture.  You tell yourself, this is the last sofa I will ever need in my life.  Buy the sofa, then for a couple of years you’re satisfied that no matter what goes wrong, at least you’ve got the sofa issue handled.  Then the right set of dishes.  Then the perfect bed.  The drapes.  The rug.

Then you’re trapped in your lovely nest, and the things you used to own, now they own you.”

Later on, he is encouraged to remark to a policeman investigating the apparent arson of his home:

“ ‘The liberator who destroys my property,’ Tyler said, ‘is fighting to save my spirit.  The teacher who clears all possessions from my path will set me free.’ ”

I read stuff like that and it smarts a tad.  Good satire, again, shines a light in places one may not feel comfortable.  Despite my attempts to keep ‘things’ at relative arm’s length, I’ve still got plenty of stuff.  Would I mind seeing it all go?  Would I be emotionally torn asunder by having nothing besides the proverbial shirt on my back?  It’s the things that have so-called ‘sentimental value’ that would be the trickiest of things, photos and relics and things irreplaceable.

I’m a collector and sometimes trader of small plastic toys that turn from robots into cars and trucks and things.  It’s a reasonably expansive collection when viewed from the perspective of one who is not particularly interested in such things but modest (no, really) when I compare it to the really freaky, hard-core, obsessive collectors – believe me they are out there.  Despite my labeling of the collection of modest (yes, OK, I doth protest too much), it gives me pause for thought when I consider: how much are they worth to me really?

I am seriously mod-conned out.  I’ve got nifty gadgets and modern knick-knacks that do all kinds of fun things.  While it’s awfully nice to have cool stuff that I can use, or a cool home environment, things like the TV and the stereo and the computer are not really necessities, are they?  Virtually none of my stuff is absolutely necessary for my survival.  I’ve spent long periods of time with little or no TV and it makes you realise how little it actually contributes to your being on a fundamental level.  Same with all my stuff.  I’m probably overdue to do a serious de-clutter of my house and I wonder why getting this done has been difficult in the past considering I don’t really view any of it as being essential to who I am.

I’ve made the conscious choice to try not to deliberately place the label of ‘sentimental’ on anything I own.  I say that without pride, as it probably means that I live a less rich life than I may otherwise have if I surrounded myself with objects that prove a life has been lived.  It also means I’m less likely to inherit a collection of spoons or postcards or decorative doilies or other heirlooms from my parents one day.  A curse or a blessing?  I’m sure you can decide for yourself.

On 'The Incredibles'

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“I’m only a man in a silly red sheet

Digging for kryptonite on this one way street

Only a man in a funny red sheet

Looking for special things inside of me”

~ ‘Superman (It’s Not Easy)’, by John Ondrasik

from the Five For Fighting album “America Town”, 2000

Pixar Movie Studios boasts the impressive distinction of having huge cinema box-office success with each and every one of its 11 feature length films so far.  Virtually any film studio would be envious of even their most modest success, that being 1995’s Toy Story, which according to BoxOfficeMojo.com took over a staggering $361 million worldwide at the box office.  Even more impressive is their critical acclaim: only one of their films rates below 91% on RottenTomatoes.com (that website being an amalgamated percentage score of a large number of critical reviews across a range of media).  Personally, I have yet to dislike a Pixar film.  Some are more favourites than others, but for mine their Magnum Opus is The Incredibles (2004)*.

Directed by Brad Bird, The Incredibles tells the story of a family of superheroes, in hiding for many years following the legislated prohibition of “superheroics” following damaging lawsuits from the public at large.  Mr Incredible, Bob Parr (voiced by Craig T Nelson) suffers something of a mid-life crisis whilst working in a drab cube farm for a stingy insurance company.  He is an intensely decent man and doesn’t need much encouragement to resume his crime-fighting activities once an opportunity presents itself.  Nothing is what it seems, however: he is soon embroiled in a plot to destroy not only him but all superheroes.  His family is very quickly also in danger and Mr Incredible discovers that the threat they all face may be one of his own making...

There’s a lot to like about The Incredibles.   The voice actors are perfectly cast, as they are in all of Pixar’s films, and its retro orchestral jazz score echoes the very best of John Barry.   Being something of a comic and movie geek, I adore its clever nods to its forebears in The Fantastic Four, Superman, Doom Patrol, James Bond, and The Thunderbirds, to name a very, very few .  I love the film’s Googie–inspired production design, which owes a huge debt to Pixar’s near-fanatical pre-production artwork efforts.  These guys are seriously art obsessed; they have stores of literally hundreds of thousands of pieces of artwork generated in every medium imaginable, for the creation of each and every one of their films.  I also adore the writing, with some serious themes infused with lighter, comedic moments.  Where Pixar gets it most right, however, is in their absolute devotion to character and dedication above all else, to story.

Why do I love The Incredibles so much?  What elevates it passed it’s Pixar brethren?

Firstly, I love the note-perfect characters.  Possibly the most intriguing and well rounded character in the film (a film positively brimming with well rounded characters) is Mrs Incredible herself, Helen Parr AKA ElastiGirl, voiced by Holly Hunter.  When you get passed the lame sounding name (positively de rigueur in comic book tradition), she is a strong female character in an industry that often suffers a dearth of such things.  Indeed while Pixar have been criticised for not having a female character in a lead role (a deficiency to be remedied in their upcoming 13th feature film, Brave), Pixar’s storytellers have never shied away from portraying strong women: Jeneane Garofalo’s Colette in Ratatouille, Joan Cusack’s Jesse in Toy Story 2 & 3, even Elissa Knight’s EVE from Wall*E.  Helen gets plenty of screen time, a genuine character arc, and more than one moment to shine.  It could be argued that Helen and Bob really share the lead as the mother and father of the eponymous family.

Not without her flaws, Helen is sometimes short-tempered with her children and shares several misunderstandings with her husband.  She is, however, like many mothers, the glue that binds the family together.  She provides for them, nurtures them, she protects them fiercely, even in the face of potential harm.  She is frequently shown fighting the villains of the piece alongside her husband, and if you’ll indulge my comic-book loving side, she is completely confident in the use of her abilities.  She displays creativity in the use of her (otherwise pretty feeble) power of being able to stretch herself unnaturally, even using her powers to their limits, causing her some discomfort.  One knows she is a force to be reckoned with from the very first time we see her in the movie, when she brashly states: “Settle down, are you kidding? I'm at the top of my game! I'm right up there with the big dogs! Girls, come on. Leave the saving of the world to the men? I don't think so.” Gold.

My absolute favourite element of the movie is its thematic examination of what it means to be special.  The late comedian/political & social commentator George Carlin spoke once** about children and he reflected:

“There are no losers anymore.  Everyone’s a winner, no matter what the sport or competition, everybody wins.  Everybody wins, everybody gets a trophy, no-one is a loser.  No child these days ever gets to hear those all-important character-building words ‘You lost, Bobby!’”

And later:

“Of course Bobby’s parents can’t understand why he can’t hold a job, in school he was always on the honour role.  Well, what they don’t understand of course, is that in today’s schools, everyone is on the honour roll.”

The young son of the Incredible family, Dash Parr, has a conversation with his mother early in the film, which progresses later into a debate between Bob and Helen about whether or not Dash should be allowed to participate in school sports, given that Dash’s speed-based powers would make him so far and above anyone else that he couldn’t really lose.  Should they let him be the best he can be or not allow him to live up to his full potential in order to fit in?  When Dash says “But Dad always said our powers were nothing to be ashamed of, our powers made us special!” Helen replies “Everyone is special, Dash.”  He quickly retorts “Which is another way of saying nobody is.” More gold!

This is mirrored later in the film by the main villain Syndrome’s grand plan to install himself as a new hero, after ‘defeating’ a threat of his own making, and then selling his hi-tech gadgets and weapons to all and sundry.  Then, he says, “When everyone is special... no-one will be”.  His own damaged ego rails the thought of anyone truly standing out in a positive and noble manner.  That’s some pretty strong writing there.

I’ll leave you with an amusing anecdote from the making of the film.  Sometimes, during the process of animation, the computer technicians need to dub temporary voices into the footage prior to the professional voice actors recording their parts.  Oscar nominated and Emmy award winning actress Lily Tomlin was initially cast to lend her voice to the hilarious Edna Mode (the creator of the Parr family’s amazing super-suits).  When Tomlin arrived at Pixar to record her part, she first listened to the voice initially dubbed by director Brad Bird. She then promptly quit, reportedly saying “What do you need me for? You got it already.”  Amazingly classy.  Bird’s voice remains in the movie.

Next time you see a Pixar movie released, you can bet I’ll be there very close to opening night.  No matter how ridiculously expensive cinema prices get, you can be guaranteed that it’ll be worth it.  I for one will be expecting an incredible experience.

* The Incredibles made over $631 million at the worldwide cinema box office to date, and maintains a RottenTomatoes.com score of an extraordinary 97%.  It was nominated for 4 Academy Awards and won 2 of those, won a BAFTA Award, was nominated for a Golden Globe and a Grammy, and was nominated and won many, many more awards in almost every conceivable category.

** It can be found here, but its strong profanity means it’s not for children or the faint of heart.

On Politics

“Everyone seems to think you’re on their side

But I don’t think you’re that small

How could they see it when reason has died

We haven’t a clue to it all”

~ ‘Half Light, Epoch And Phase’, by Terry Scott Taylor

from the Daniel Amos album “Darn Floor, Big Bite”, 1987

I have a horrible, dark confession to make.  The following confession will not likely win me new friends among many of the circles I belong to.  It may even make me a couple of new enemies.  Are you ready?

I’m a Leftist.

I’m a Left-wing Liberal Hippy Tree-hugging Pinko Commie.

OK, perhaps that is going a little far for the sake of effect, but it remains that I am far more sympathetic to left-wing politics than to the conservative.

Left and right-wing politics, as I understand it, came from the time of the French Revolution, when those involved in the Legislative Assembly of 1791 sat on either the left or right depending on their political allegiance.  The left has traditionally been linked with socialism, the rights of the (often poor) lower classes and working people, while the right is  associated with class order, consumerism and capitalism, and in its extreme, fascism.

What I don’t get, what I cannot seem to wrap my head around, is the so-called Christian Right.  At the very least, I cannot understand why the Christian Church seems to be inextricably linked with the right of politics, as if being a conservative automatically follows a belief in God.  Left-wing politics, as defined during the French Revolution, was associated with the secularisation of politics, so a degree of connection between the Christian Church and the conservative right is at least understandable.  However, it does seem to me that in left-wing politics, an individual of faith may very well find much that ought be considered desirable; a respect for the rights of individuals, a sense of social justice, the belief that all are created equal, a sentiment which finds itself an echo of Biblical Scripture.  This last point has a particular resonance for me, being a descendant of the Huguenots, a left-wing French Protestant people that were persecuted heavily by the ruling Catholic nobility in the time before the Revolution.  It’s true that the Left often views the Christian Right’s pro-religious stance as a tendency to authoritarianism and repression, and historically, sadly, it seems there is often good reason, as the Huguenots can attest.

On a personal note, I tend to find a coldness in right-wing politics that I often find distasteful.  In the recent long period of Federal conservatism in Australia under John Howard’s Liberal/National coalition government, there seems to have been an uneasy increase in the politics of fear, where free speech was curtailed*, and lowest-common-denominator politics was frequently pushed to the forefront of national debate.  One doesn’t need to go much further than the ongoing asylum-seeker debate to see evidence of the legacy of this push.  It saddens me that many of the Left are seemingly competing with the Right for the slimy bottom-of-the-barrel of that particular issue, which frankly should be a no-brainer for those who espouse tolerance and kindness.

If I’m sounding like I’m really not enamoured with the (oxymoronic) Liberal party in Australia, then you’re not at all wrong.  If you still don’t quite understand why, then I guess I can say only two more words: Children Overboard.  If you’re not familiar with this nasty little episode, please look it up.

I’m bringing all this up because these viewpoints have not won me friends with Christians, and I have been a target of petty and dismissive scorn on more than one occasion for not choosing to have a political bent that many of my friends have.  I once heard Jim Reiher (Christian, theological lecturer, author and shock! horror! Greens candidate) say** to a disgracefully hostile Christian gathering that in his opinion, one cannot expect to find a single political party whose policies line up absolutely and completely with an individual’s personal views on each and every issue.  Indeed, not every member of a political party will agree with everyone in their own party on every issue.  Perhaps the best one can do is to weigh up all the policies of every party and find the party that represents your views the most. I remember the crowd scoffing and even jeering whenever Mr Reiher spoke.  I took what he had to say to heart. I find more compassion in left-wing politics.  As a Christian, when the choice is either dogmatic stringency or compassion, I’ll choose compassion every time.

In the end, it seems that of recent times, the Left has been doing it’s darnedest to shift to the middle.  There is an increasing pressure in politics to be fiscally conservative, so much so that the Left and Right are often fighting for the same ground rather than delineating points of difference.  The Right doesn’t seem quite so anxious not to be who they are than Australia’s Labor Left seems to be, and the Australian Greens are now very far more to the left of Australian politics than the ALP.  In my efforts to avoid confrontation (honestly, who needs more ridicule?), perhaps I have also been too quick to be hide my politics, much like the ALP has.  Perhaps I shouldn’t allow myself to be embarrassed by my convictions.  Maybe being a Lefty is not such a horrible, dark confession after all.

*I have strong memories of Mr Howard and his ministers physically and forcibly preventing opposing members of the Federal Senate, specifically Kerry Nettle, from passing on a letter to a visiting fellow-arch-conservative in George W Bush - see http://www.abc.net.au/pm/content/2003/s973858.htm for details.

**I’m paraphrasing rather than directly quoting.  I hope I’ve expressed the sentiments of Mr Reiher’s words accurately.  If not, then sincere apologies.

On Taking A Break...

“Why don't you give

Give a little bit

For future's sake

Give the kid a break”

~ ‘Give The Kid A Break’, by 1927

from their album “Ish”, 1987

The On Writing Blog is taking a week off.  I have several pieces on the go at present which I'm hoping will be interesting enough to read, but they are not of adequate quality to post just yet.  Next week, I promise you.

Thanks for reading and supporting my writing, and a special thanks to everyone who has encouraged me following last week's entry.