Are You Seriously Fucked Up?
"When a person is insane, as you clearly are, do you know that you're insane? Maybe you're just sitting around, reading "Guns and Ammo", masturbating in your own feces, do you just stop and go, 'Wow! It is amazing how fucking crazy I really am!'? Yeah. Do you guys do that?"
The above questioned was posed to John Doe by Dt. Mills in the classic thriller Se7en. However, it very dinstinctly puts one of my greatest fears into an uncanny focus. If I am seriously fucked up, would I know it? I mean there is a lot of stuff out there that is seriously wrong with people. Every day you see street people wandering around talking to themself. You hear stories of murders who have lost touch with reality. You see movies - even shitty ones like "Hide and Seek" - that explore split personalities. It all makes you wonder, maybe I am seriously fucked up and don't know it? Try sleeping tonight with that on your mind.
"I am Jack's smirking revenge." ... In Fight Club we were privy to watch the friendship of Tyler and the narrator blossom into something free form and completely devoid of law and structure. It was not until later that we realize the narrator is Tyler and Tyler is he. One man, one mission, two personalities and the left hand has no idea what the right hand is doing. The concept - though surreal and convenient for a hollywood drama - was both interesting and unsettling. Can it happen to you? Though I don't think you're the next Tyler Durden, you could be the next Son of Sam.
Throughout history, we see the insane and the glamorized who were driven by voices from dogs (Son of Sam), God (Joan of Arc), or REM ("What's the frequency Kenneth?" .. obscure joke and yes I know the song was based on the incident not vice versa). For every Joan of Arc there is a David Koresh, a Son of Sam, or the guy that dances in the middle of the crosswalk at University and War Memorial. Regardless, history (and religious based history) decides who is insane and who is not but will we ever know? Are there voices of God calling to some people? Are there voices of Hell calling others? Are we that much secure in our own sanity that we need not worry to when that inner voice becomes a living breathing person who borrows your body from time to time.
Ever had moments where you seemed to be on auto-pilot doing something you know was wrong. No? Have you ever been around your home - looked up - and realized you have no idea what you are doing in a room or how you got there? No? Have you ever drove home - say from work - got out of your car and not remembered the trip? No? Then you are of the few. Be honest with yourself when you think about it. Aside from chemically induced blackouts are there times where you have seemed like you were sleep-walking through life, maybe for a minute, maybe for an hour, maybe from the time you were 18-25 (whoops, I said NOT chemically induced, my bad).
It's not too hard to imagine it. An inner voice becoming life. Like a wooden boy wanting to be real. Like a stuffed little dinosaur who comes alive - and becomes annoying as all hell - with the children's imagination. Or maybe ... it's that damn barking dog Sam. Hound of hell, who comes to life inside of you. How close is our grip on sanity? Can we really believe that our sanity - that you have to question on a daily basis with the state of this world - is so precious and true that we are not a stone's throw away from being an abhoration?
By the way, it's OK to kill a "carney" just to get an erection, right?
Coming soon ... I Have Issues
The above questioned was posed to John Doe by Dt. Mills in the classic thriller Se7en. However, it very dinstinctly puts one of my greatest fears into an uncanny focus. If I am seriously fucked up, would I know it? I mean there is a lot of stuff out there that is seriously wrong with people. Every day you see street people wandering around talking to themself. You hear stories of murders who have lost touch with reality. You see movies - even shitty ones like "Hide and Seek" - that explore split personalities. It all makes you wonder, maybe I am seriously fucked up and don't know it? Try sleeping tonight with that on your mind.
"I am Jack's smirking revenge." ... In Fight Club we were privy to watch the friendship of Tyler and the narrator blossom into something free form and completely devoid of law and structure. It was not until later that we realize the narrator is Tyler and Tyler is he. One man, one mission, two personalities and the left hand has no idea what the right hand is doing. The concept - though surreal and convenient for a hollywood drama - was both interesting and unsettling. Can it happen to you? Though I don't think you're the next Tyler Durden, you could be the next Son of Sam.
Throughout history, we see the insane and the glamorized who were driven by voices from dogs (Son of Sam), God (Joan of Arc), or REM ("What's the frequency Kenneth?" .. obscure joke and yes I know the song was based on the incident not vice versa). For every Joan of Arc there is a David Koresh, a Son of Sam, or the guy that dances in the middle of the crosswalk at University and War Memorial. Regardless, history (and religious based history) decides who is insane and who is not but will we ever know? Are there voices of God calling to some people? Are there voices of Hell calling others? Are we that much secure in our own sanity that we need not worry to when that inner voice becomes a living breathing person who borrows your body from time to time.
Ever had moments where you seemed to be on auto-pilot doing something you know was wrong. No? Have you ever been around your home - looked up - and realized you have no idea what you are doing in a room or how you got there? No? Have you ever drove home - say from work - got out of your car and not remembered the trip? No? Then you are of the few. Be honest with yourself when you think about it. Aside from chemically induced blackouts are there times where you have seemed like you were sleep-walking through life, maybe for a minute, maybe for an hour, maybe from the time you were 18-25 (whoops, I said NOT chemically induced, my bad).
It's not too hard to imagine it. An inner voice becoming life. Like a wooden boy wanting to be real. Like a stuffed little dinosaur who comes alive - and becomes annoying as all hell - with the children's imagination. Or maybe ... it's that damn barking dog Sam. Hound of hell, who comes to life inside of you. How close is our grip on sanity? Can we really believe that our sanity - that you have to question on a daily basis with the state of this world - is so precious and true that we are not a stone's throw away from being an abhoration?
By the way, it's OK to kill a "carney" just to get an erection, right?
Coming soon ... I Have Issues
posted by Reed at 9:30 AM
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