On Django Unchained

I recently watched Django Unchained. Here're my thoughts, which are poorly written (I have no idea how to write movie reviews):

The movie is all about escapism. Watching Django, a slave, straight up murder everyone perpetuating the institution of slavery,  is a lot of fun. Django is an unkillable, remorseless, quick-drawing sniper who, upon picking up a rifle, is somehow immediately capable of shooting a moving target several hundred feet away from him. His companion Dr. Scholtz remarks that he is a "natural", but then subjects him to a training montage anyway.

Watching the Scholtz/Django dynamic duo slaughter their way to fortune and justice was a cathartic romp of a good time. Outlaws and slaveowners are gunned down with no effort and all the moral high ground you can imagine. I've never felt this good about seeing faceless mooks explode into blood and gore. I think this is the only action movie I've watched that's made me laugh with the awesomeness of its shootouts. The two men are demigods, and I like that. It's ridiculous in a good way.

The brutality of the reality of slavery made me cringe, which is exactly what a slavery movie should make me do. This movie taught me what mandingo fighting was. It's absolutely disgusting to think that mandingo fighting not only existed at one point, but was somehow normal to people. The mandingo fight scene, the man getting torn apart by dogs, the variety of whipping scenes, and the "hot box" all made me gag. Good! Spare no expense depicting the evil of slavery.

Candie (I forgot his first name) is an interesting character in that he uses that pseudoscience of "phrenology" to justify the status quo. In reality, it's his slave, Steven, that actually figures things out. Steven seems to run the farm. He controls the slaves, which is why he hates Django. Django represents a threat to everything Steven worked so hard to build for himself. Steven is a despicable character, but only if the institution forcing him to act this way isn't also despicable.

Django Unchained is fun, it's escapism, and it's a good reminder of a dark chapter in American history. I liked it.

-Me

On Swallowing Pride

Here're the words that have been bouncing around in my head lately: Swallow your pride.

Everyone I've ever seen -- every janitor, every cashier, every homeless guy muttering to himself -- knows countless things I do not know, has had experiences I can not even imagine, has felt things I have never felt before. I have no doubt that there have and will be people who will experience a depth of happiness I will never experience, shoulder tragedies that would destroy me, fall more deeply in love, and so on.

Every thought I've ever had has in all likelihood been thought by someone else, and not just that, but thought more clearly and with more elegance. Noam Chomsky can articulate the injustices of the world better than thoughts about these injustices can even form in my mind. The same could be said about any subject ever: There will always be many people who can say things about their area of expertise better than I can even think them.

This is amazing. It's amazing to think that, whenever I am in the presence of a stranger, I am in the presence of someone who can teach me something. And I am in the presence of strangers all the time. In fact, there are millions of strangers briefly coexisting all around the world, their lives intersecting for just a moment, a moment filled with possibility.

-Me

Wasted Time

I wonder how much time is wasted every day.

I wonder how much time is wasted standing in line: To buy a meal, a ticket, to get into a concert or a convention or a sporting event, to use the toilet, to get a book signed, to stand in the checkout line, to get a discount, to see a movie, to use an ATM, to see a doctor or a dentist, to board a plane.

I wonder how much time is wasted in transit: Sitting on the bus, the train, the subway, the ferry, the taxi, the car, just waiting to arrive, a waiting so mundane and unimportant and worthless you'll forget it the instant it's over.

I wonder how much time is wasted just being bored: People sitting there, wishing their life was more interesting, ignorant to the abundance all around them, scrolling through Facebook and Youtube and Twitter and Facebook again, and then maybe Facebook a third time because maybe someone posted something I'll find interesting, even though that never happens.

I wonder how much time is wasted on stupid conversations: Conversations that don't and will never matter; mindless, rote dialogues that masquerade as human interaction but are really just meaningless exhalations forgotten within seconds; trite pleasantries and hackneyed platitudes worth less than the air they ride on.

I wonder how many breathtaking sunrises have been robbed of their glory by shitty, microtransaction-based cell phone games; I want to see precisely how many hours of human connection these games have stolen. How many hours of effort and productivity? How many hours of laughter and engagement? How many hours of doing something even remotely useful?

I wonder how many countless, painful hours people waste doing things they don't want to do just to pay a mortgage or a rent; I wonder how many dreams and souls have been crushed by this mindless tedium; I wonder how many people realize the absolute banality of their day-to-day existence as they slave away doing a job that a machine could easily do.

I wonder how many hours vanish due to carelessness or accident -- spilling a drink, forgetting a coat, misplacing the keys, losing a number, hitting the wrong button, dropping a camera, a typo in the paperwork, a misunderstanding.

I want to reclaim these hours, but I can't. All I can do is use what hours I have left, and, in light of all this wasted time, realize how precious my time is, and how amazing it is that I actually have any time at all, and to use it to do things that matter.

-Me

On My First Day Of College

Today was my first day attending classes at CU Boulder.

The first thing I want to say is, college is awesome. The second thing I want to say is, holy shit, college is awesome. It's the best place I've ever been, and nowhere else even comes close. I'm not exaggerating when I say that today I became so excited I got the chills, a sensation that occurred multiple times in all of my four classes. I feel like I belong here, like all my life has been leading up to this point and now here it is, and I don't ever want to leave it. All I feel is excitement and happiness. I'm shaking as I type this now. It's amazing.

The people are great. I'm surrounded by students and professors who are smarter, stronger, better-spoken, harder-working, more skillful, more creative, more thoughtful, and more attractive than I am, and I love it. I'm sure I'll emerge from their presence a better person, growing and learning the entire way. All of my professors emulate knowledge and experience and an eagerness to help me become as knowledgeable and experienced as they are. Bring it on.

I feel like the things I'm learning matter. I mean, I felt that way during high school too, but I feel it even more strongly now. Before today, I felt the importance of what I was learning in an abstract way, like "This will be important in the future, so learn it to build a strong foundation."(I also just like learning, so there was that.) But now, I feel like the things I'm learning matter on a pragmatic level as well, like "The math and science you're learning right now will make you money. Someone is going to pay you a high amount of money just to know this." That thought fills me with an almost overwhelming joy.

The environment is fantastic. I love the idea of a university, a place where people come together to share ideas and push the boundaries of human knowledge, a place where that knowledge is considered sacrosanct, a place where learning and discovery bloom and flourish. In fact, I love this idea so much, I've structured my entire life around never having to leave. And it gets better -- not only is a university a beautiful idea, it is real and I am living in one right now. I am a witness to the idea and I can tell you yes, it's even better in practice than it is on paper.

I am so lucky to be here.

-Me

On The Effectiveness Of Effort

Here's a thought that's been bouncing around in my head lately:

The smallest effort on your part can prove extremely meaningful.

A few words of comfort cost you mere seconds to say, but can salvage heartbreak and completely lift someone else's mood. Three seconds can improve the quality of the rest of someone's day, which could be upwards of eight hours. That is a huge return on investment.

A piece of trash lying in front of your path takes less than three seconds to pick up. It may take up to a minute to locate a suitable trashcan (it usually takes way less), but even then it's less time out of your day than waiting at a stoplight. Picking up that piece of trash takes as much effort as opening a door. The benefits far outweigh the costs.

Personal example: When I was cashiering and a customer came up with a crying child, I would get a little blank slip of paper, draw a smiley face on it, and give it to the child. This was 100% effective at stopping the crying, and it took me less than ten seconds to do. Try to picture the scene. A tired parent spends thirty to ninety minutes looking around a huge store for the few items they need, finally arrives at the checkout line, and their child begins crying. This is not a happy situation for any of the involved parties -- me included -- and it could take many minutes for the parent to calm their child down. Instead, I just draw the simplest smiley face ever and the problem ceases to exist. Ten seconds eliminates several minutes of frustration and unhappiness. I benefit, the parent benefits, the child benefits, everyone else in the checkout area benefits. Ten seconds.

I'll be honest: I don't notice these opportunities to help people very often, and even when I do notice them I'll rarely act on it. I think the reason we don't do these things more often is because we convince ourselves we're busy people, or maybe someone else will handle it, or maybe it's just not an important thing, or we just don't think about it. But these are all excuses for our own laziness, a laziness so profound it inhibits us from spending even three seconds to do the simplest, most basic acts of thoughtfulness and kindness. Even if you were a fruit fly, with a lifespan of twenty four hours, three seconds is a mere .0035% of your life. That kind of time spent to help a friend or your community is trivial at best. But if we were all constantly looking for the chance to help out, especially when it takes so little effort, the world would be a much better, much kinder place.

Actively look for chances to help people, and you might be surprised at how easy it is.

-Me

This Entire Story Took Place In Less Than Two Seconds

My mind can get kinda carried away sometimes. Example below.

I was at work today when I saw a ~7 year old girl and her ~9 year old brother walking together. The brother told his sister to do something, and then the sister said, "You're not the boss of me!" in the tone that all ~7 year old girls use when they say "You're not the boss of me!". Then I started thinking.

I thought about the fact that I was at work, and hence I had people who actually were the boss of me, people who have a great deal of control over my financial situation, people who could not only fire me but make it very difficult for me to find a job in the future. And if I tried to tell these people "You're not the boss of me!", then they would likely do exactly that, and I would be pretty screwed.

Then I imagined the ~9 year old brother growing up to be a genius entrepreneur who breaks ground in some revolutionary, billion-dollar industry in his mid-twenties, at which time I would be in my mid-thirties, and maybe I'd have a Master's Degree in some kind of engineering, and the boy's company would be looking for engineers, and so I would find myself working for the boy's company. I'd work hard, climb the corporate ladder and eventually find myself working at the company HQ, where the boy also works as the CEO and owner, and maybe even meet him personally, and see how successful he is, how much money he has, and nice cars, and attractive women, and why don't I have those things, and he's got youth and talent and charisma and money, and the majority of my paycheck is going towards a mortgage I'm slowly realizing I can barely afford, and I have a family to feed and children to send to college and dying parents to look after, and he's already ready to retire with no weight on his shoulders whatsoever. And slowly, this jealousy and bitterness begin to take over my life, and my work performance begins suffering. And the boy, who is actually a fair, intelligent, compassionate boss, calls me into his office one day and asks me what's wrong, and he knows I'm capable of doing better, and I say nothing's wrong because of course I say nothing's wrong, and then he tells me I need to improve my performance, and I say I will but then I don't, and then a few weeks later he calls me in again and says the same thing, and I say the same thing, and nothing happens again.

The third meeting is different. He calls me in and says if I don't start improving, he'll have to start considering termination, which is a lot of syllables to say "fired", and I am furious and desperate and terrified, and I yearn, yearn to tell him, to scream in his face, "You're not the boss of me!", except he actually is, and if I did that I would surely be fired and lose all ability to pay my mortgage and feed my family and survive, so I hold it in and just nod quietly. But inside, I am seething at him, and I realize I loathe my job, have always loathed it, and I complain about my boss nonstop, even though he's been nothing but kind and understanding and merciful, and I should have been fired months ago already, but the only reason I haven't is because he likes my personality or something, and he's even taken me out golfing a couple times. And my hatred and rage begins affecting my family life, and eventually my wife divorces me, and then I get fired, and I end up homeless on the street with nothing to my name, and now, finally, I can go up to anyone in the entire world and tell them "You're not the boss of me!" and be perfectly correct. But I don't want to. I just want a job, and a boss, and a nice salary, and most of all I want my wife and kids back.

So yeah. My mind can get kinda carried away sometimes.

-Me

On The Blueness Of The Sky

Go outside on a clear, cloudless day and look up at the sky.

Pay attention to one thing: How blue it is. Just that, nothing else. Don't think about how far away it is, how vast it is, how beautiful it is, how cloudless it is, how poetic it is, how nice it is. Notice only its blueness. Notice how the sky is really, incredibly, almost shockingly blue. It's a pure, soft blue, a blue you want to grab and put into your pocket and make pillows out of, a blue that makes other, different blues seem not as blue somehow. Let its raw, unrelenting blueness gently wash all other thoughts from your mind. Let it take your breath away.

While you're doing that, think about how many other people have been under a cloudless sky as you are now and not done what you're doing now; not noticed the blueness right above them, that blue expanse stretching forever into the horizon, have never noticed that blueness.

It seems like a big deal to me, for some reason, that there would be even a single person who has never thought about how incredibly, awesomely blue the sky is. How many other sources of wonder and awe do these people miss on a daily basis? How many do I miss on a daily basis? The answer is probably "too many".

It's ordinary to love the beautiful. It's beautiful to love the ordinary.

-Me