[Tonight I began pounding out some percolating thoughts and as I pounded they just kept pouring, so though I did my best to avoid any awfully unrelated tangents, the flow is rather haphazard, for which I apologise in advance and promise to clean up at a later date.]
“Things always get worse before they get better.”
This is one of those quotes that has been being said for so long that it’s difficult to know who to quote as having said it. Tonight I’ll pin it on Batman’s Alfred, because I just finished watching Dark Knight for the second time. It’s a dark movie, yes, though not nearly as dark as I’d remembered it, probably because I was more awake this time. A lot of people no doubt find it distasteful for its darkness and violence, and I have no problem with people avoiding films for these reasons and more.
When in doubt on whether to watch something or not, choosing not to is the more prudent choice. How many movies can you really say changed your life or even the way you think about life? If the value of a film extends no further than its duration, can it be said to be worthwhile use of that time? I suppose there is something to be said for activities in which we can shut off and ‘relax’, but a) we already have something called sleep for precisely that purpose (and our mind even keeps working then without us), and b) there’s no reason we can’t better ourselves and be entertained at the same time, through active rather than passive entertainment; oddly enough, they used to have something for this…I believe they called them “books”.
I happen to like Dark Knight, and think that the story justifies the way in which it’s told. It contains themes, motifs, and messages, and brings out these fundamentals with very compelling devices. It blackens the darkness to whiten the light, to sharpen the contrast, though I’m not saying any of the characters are perfect or even completely right in their thinking. The message of a movie doesn’t necessarily have to be correct for it to be thought-provoking and worthwhile – as long as we don’t swallow these messages wholesale. Sadly, so often viewers opt for something that is easily swallowable, not realising that it’s whispering poison sliding softly down their throats. Compelling takes chewing – rubbish, clear or covert, deserves to be spit out.
A lot of people take issue with me for being so critical of screenplay. Just enjoy it for what it is, they say. To them I would first respond that nothing is ever merely ‘what it is’; a film downloaded free from the Internet is still paid for with two irretrievable hours of your time. And such people seem not to understand just how much influence content that goes straight through our eyes or ears to our minds really has. One can’t watch influence happening.
Secondly, can I really be blamed for expecting that, where resources go in, proportionate results should come out? Do you ever think about the enormous amounts of money that go into a single feature production? Or what that money could’ve been used for elsewhere. Now, I am peace studies student, and I could easily go into how much it’s estimated it would cost to end world hunger, various types of disease, or provide education, and how those costs are far within our reach, but I won’t because I don’t like doing that and I don’t want to insult your intelligence – you know these things. As for movies I simply want to make the point that we settle, we settle so far below full potential, but we let ourselves get away with it because we’ve never seen anything even close to what we’re truly capable of – we haven’t worked that hard, ever.
And that brings me to what I really wanted to say tonight. The media industry isn’t the only area in which we’re settling, and failing, and accepting that failure. I haven’t produced any movies or sold any records yet; I can only manage my intake, but even if I were consistently wise in my entertainment choices, I’d still be wasting the resources afforded me.
I believe that of the resources granted to us, time is the most valuable one, though it’s often the one we treat the most carelessly. I waste a lot of time, and I think that herein is where the value of deadlines really lies: not only do they get us being productive, as they approach ever faster they make us conscious of just how much time we’re wasting.
Yes, I do still have those two essays hanging over me, and no, I didn’t get as much done on them today as I’d meant to. Thankfully I did do some. But as long as those unfulfilled deadlines loom large on my horizon, I can’t feel good about focusing on other things. I start to want to finish them as quickly as possible so I can enjoy life once again?
Is this a good solution? I think not. It’s rather like only enjoying a movie while you’re watching it, and never thinking about it once it’s finished: surely there’s more to be gotten out of all the hours I’ve devoted than merely a hopefully decent grade. It’s also like living for the weekend, in which you’re really only living two-sevenths of your life, if even that. I’m always going to have deadlines, and according to what I said above (which I still agree with) I will always need them. So what a shame it would be if I only enjoyed the few short periods in my life when I was actually free of deadlines. I don’t want such an un-enjoyed, un-lived life.
This means that I need to find a way to enjoy both what I want to do and what I have to do. As much as I intend to pursue a career that I naturally find enjoyable and fulfilling, there will inevitably be things I initially shy away from. At this stage that includes essays. While I love the reading and the learning, and I learn more from researching for the purpose of writing than just reading, I hate the pressure of deadlines and the difficulty of cramming these huge topics into 1500 words. But I think I’ve found a way to make the doing as meaningful as the completion, and the experience count for more in my life than a number on a semester score card (or whatever you call them).
I’ve tried to pick not the easy topics but the ones I know nothing about, like Latin American history and the sharing of power in the various institutions of the British state, so that I’d learn the most in the process. I won’t deny that I question my decisions and feel a fool when I put in far more time than a measly first-year essay would warrant. But it always turns out.
Prime consideration is not only learning but connection. One of the essays I’m working on now is about obtaining British citizenship and the debates surrounding the issue, which I chose because I had no idea what those debates were. I joked on Facebook about the irony of me researching that topic when I’ve never felt like a citizen of any state, and I took the joke a bit further within myself by musing that I’d chosen the topic so I could figure out how best I myself could become a British citizen. But that personal connection is now, in part, transferring from an ironic mental smile to affecting the actual essay content, as I’ve decided to interpret the prompt a little more creatively and let my own sentiments weigh in a little more (with proper citational support, of course!). It’s a risk, and to be honest I was planning to hold in my wild streak (it’s okay, you can laugh, and you can probably keep laughing for the next few years until something happens that cuts you off or makes you laugh harder) a bit longer, but then there’s no time like the present. We’ll see how it goes.
Regardless of the grade I’ve made it into something I care about, can learn from, and will most probably use in the future. It may take more time than if I were simply doing it to finish it (that’s one thing that sort of connects to the quote at the beginning, but astute observers will see that I clearly have not said all that I intended to when I started writing this long-winded entry), but in the long run it will be worth it. I want to be able to say all of these things about everything I do – to be able to say that about the way I spend each minute of each day.
We haven’t seen what we could accomplish if we were all in, if we were serious about fully exploiting our available resources, if we let the long-term factor into our smallest decisions. What would it look like if we were completely committed?
I want to find the answer to that for myself, and I think this Christmas season is a great time to start (again).
Thanks for reading this far, and I’m terribly sorry if this sounded preachy at all – I write these for myself primarily, and like I said at the start, I’ll clean this up in time. For now it’s just a collection of what my actions lead me to think about me.
And to all a good night.