Batman, Nostradamus

i'm coming off two experiences with media that have me thinking about 'the human condition' or.. just, life as a human in this world, or... whatever it is to you.

#1. The Dark Knight: kar and i went to see the new batman movie yesterday. first, let's get this out of the way. Heath Ledger's performance is absolutely everything that it's cracked up to be. If (when) he wins an oscar for 'best supporting actor', it won't be a pity vote, and it won't be 'typical'. it will be an entirely appropriate recognition of what is certainly the most incredible and intense portrayal of a villain that i have ever seen in a movie, ever. i can't say enough about how out of the park his performance was. you really never do see him.. just the joker, and all his... whatever it is that he is.

The story is really all about the joker. he's a criminal, of course, but not in the traditional sense. that's where this movie rises above anything that comes before it in this type of genre. he's a criminal who has no interest in money, or power. his entire lot in life is to create situations in which his victims are forced to look at themselves, really look, and recognize that they aren't nearly as in control as they lead themselves to believe. that they really aren't as righteous, and noble, and loyal, as they give themselves credit for. and that, when things go bad, go differently than they may have planned, they have as much evil in them as he does.

and that's it. that's his deal. i won't give anything away (though i'm sure anybody who is going to see it has already seen it) but i will say that there's a scene in the interrogation room that is utterly powerful, where batman comes to the realization that he's powerless against this man.. and he's in the process of beating him down, and physically throwing the joker around the room, and the joker is just laughing, hysterically, and the joker says, 'you have nothing to use against me.. nothing to do with all that power..' and batman realizes that.... if he lets the joker live, he loses, and joker continues his reign of terror on gotham. and if he kills the joker then and there, as he's clearly capable of doing, then he's really no different from the joker at all, is he? just a murderer.. a fallen man who takes the path of violence to counter violence.

there's also a scene at the end, with the boats.. that's downright chilling.

it's the old adage that 'when you're bumped, it's what you're full of that spills out..'

and the city of gotham is clearly bumped, the joker will see to that. and the question that, through the entire thing, the joker is asking is.. 'what, really, are we all full of?..'


#2. Hey Nostradamus - i borrowed this book from, and at the suggestion of, Nik. i finished it in (primarily) two sittings. it's written by douglas coupland, a vancouverite. it's a story (fictional) about a school shooting.. a massacre... in a vancouver high school. no, more to the point, it's a story about four lives and how they are directly and indirectly affected by the massacre. it's an analysis, firstly, of the fact that everybody deals with a given situation differently. and that everything that has happened in a person's life leading up to that situation is going to directly and indirectly affect how they respond to the situation. but also, it's something of a commentary on spirituality, christianity, organized religion, betrayal, friendship, family, and everything else that makes up our lives.

the author is not a christian. this is not a christian book. but it doesn't matter. which is to say.. when i'm done reading it, i wonder whether i'm a christian, and whether i want to be, either way (because, does god really think of us as Christian's? does god have a term, a name? and are his lines of separation the same as ours?)

again, i dare not spoil it, should some (one) of you try to find and read it. i'll say, though, that i leave this book looking deeper into my own relationship with god and others, and into the little black spots that cover my own heart. when the shooting happens, everybody reacts. some, with violence (murdering the murderer), some with fear, some with anger (hate) that never truly dissolves, some with blame (who is REALLY behnd this??). some people band together (out of love? or out of a need for security? or.. out of a mutual sense of hate) and some people flee into isolation that they'll effectively maintain until death.

some of those involved find god as a result, and some leave him. some look skyward and ask 'why'. some look skyward and are left convinced that there is nothing to look at after all.

this book doesn't SOLVE anything. and that, i think, is its strength. it doesn't wrap. when you arrive at the end, it does not say, 'but the families eventually came together and found hope in what they gained in what they had lost.. and from that day on to the end of days, they had a yearly reunion to remember the lost and celebrate the future..'

no, and why should it? because does that actually happen? in fact, something similar does happen. in this story, a girl is killed in the shooting. it was her senior year. she was married (secretly) and pregnant (post-marriage, also secret). prior to her death, in homeroom, on that day, she is scribbling on her binder and writes 'God is nowhere... God is Now Here..' it doesn't mean much to her. it's a line she learned at youth group. it's a tidbit that crossed her mind and she's simply regurgitating a thought in a state of near sleep, waiting for class to end.

in her death, of course, the binder becomes a girl's heroic last spiritual statement, her last declaration of faith. and at her funeral, the entire youth group descends on her white coffin with black sharpies, having been handed out by the youth pastor previously, and they write messages of love and spirituality on the top and sides and front and back of her coffin. it's a beautiful picture, in a sense, and yet her parents, who are not religious, nor particularly convinced that her involvement in the youth group is beneficial, are horrified, and hurt, and see the scribbles as nothing more than chaos and disrespect, forever preventing their beautiful (and terribly loved) daughter from resting in peace. years later, the youth group kids have moved on. they've left the moment, but for a small memory, tucked away in their busy minds. But the parents carry that day, and forever remember the look of the white coffin, covered in scribbles.


sooo.. i know that sounds incredibly sad, and disheartening. in a sense, it really is. as i said, the story never turns the corner. but it got me thinking, again, about what would spill out should i be so aggressively bumped...

you gain an appreciation for people's situations. inherently, we see people's situations through OUR eyes. not theirr eyes. we say, 'we, the youth group, can make our point here.. can put our stamp on this moment, and share our hearts....' and yet, it really isn't OUR moment at all... and i suppose this book sits you down and says, 'this is what this day, and the rest of their lives, looked like from the eyes of THESE people. no, it isn't your situation.'

but it could be.

i suppose that is 'in my pipe, and currently being smoked..'

J