I went home this weekend. For 36 hours, I was content, not overly happy, but satisfied.
We were playing Wiffle Ball. I was enjoying life. Then a fly ball was hit my way. I misjudged it and it ended up rolling off my fingertips. I dropped it. What really bothered me was I could not move. I was scared to run, scared to go full speed. Now there are a multitude of reasons for this impediment. I am fat. The yard is not level. There is a big ditch. My shoes gave me no support. I am slow. I have not played Wiffle Ball for five years. I almost tore my achilles on an earlier play. I have a rod in my leg, etc.
But I could not go full speed. It is a metaphor for my life. But I am too content to dwell on my inadequacies. So I am going to review Little Children.
Every character in Little Children is screwed up. The convicted felon cannot stop playing with his dick in front of people . The adulterer is a law school graduate who wants to play football, forget about the bar exam, and not be hen pecked. The adulteress (Kate Winslet) is the house mom who wants to be a writer. The adulterer's wife cares more about money than her husband's manhood. The adulteress' husband cares more about a niche porn star than his wife. Their children are not in school yet but have multiple personality issues.
Everybody in America is screwed up. I do not know if it has to do with wealth. Maybe hunters-gatherers never had time to allow themselves to be screwed up. I do not know.
But the characters are all like me on the Wiffle Ball field. They are scared to run full speed. At the end, something happens to each of them and they go balls to the wall for a few minutes.
And the end gives the audience hope, but I wonder if that hope lasts.
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2 comments:
Eh, most people have their most exhilirating moments right before they die or the first time they get laid. The rest of life is the thrill of the chase, the agony of mediocrity, and the depression of needing Cialis.
When you boil it down most people's lives can be summed up in two or three lines, max. You were born, you got laid, you chased some irrelevant dream(s), you paid some taxes, and then you died. End of story.
As that great poet John Lennon said - Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans. Don't plan, do.
Being the most dedicated church goer that I have ever met, does this story sound at all famaliar? A broken world where everyone is screwed up but afraid to admit that they are? In Genesis Adam's first response after eating the apple was to go run and hide. It isn't just Americans or modern man that screwed, it is everyone.
If brokenness is the problem, in what shall we place our hope? Cialis and the hope of near death experiences?
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