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jakebe
Yesterday was pretty much work during the day, though once I learned about the Trump verdict that...mostly ground to a halt. On one level I don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth -- any cause for celebration is a good one! On the other hand, we're in a state when the mere acknowledgement of the legal system that an ex-President did, in fact, break the law is cause for such a celebration.
On BlueSky, I mentioned that I was going to make myself a cocktail at 2 PM for a special occasion and some rando responded with "Why, did the mail just come in?". Looking over at his profile, it was filled with doomer talk about the Trump verdict and why it was actually a bad thing. I could tell he was just looking for someone's cereal to piss in...so I blocked him and moved on with my life. In another life, I would have assumed good faith and at least tossed him a bone, but now? My own head is good enough to tell me why this doesn't matter, thank you.
Sneppers ended up bringing company home last night, so I chose to hang with them instead of pursuing personal projects (likely FFXIV). We'll call this fellow "Dourfox". We go back a ways -- he was the first person I'd ever done E with -- and I genuinely like him, but he's also melancholic and tends toward burning bridges during arguments so...we keep a respectful distance.
We showed him his first Bad Boys movie -- Bad Boys For Life (#3). Honestly? It's a welcome surprise, the best movie of the series hands down. It was directed by Adil & Bilall, the Belgian-Moroccan duo that directed all of Ms. Marvel. And the writers were responsible for The Grey (one of the best thrillers of the 2010s), Top Gun: Maverick, and others. They even managed to make the banter between Smith & Lawrence feel natural; the characters had a consistency and depth they didn't have in the last two movies; and the action scenes were fun, kinetic, without feeling overwhelming. I genuinely loved it!
Joe Pantoliano's police chief has this story in the movie: a Buddhist monk is walking down the road when he hears heavy hoofbeats behind him. He turns to see this horse barreling right for him, so he quickly jumps aside and calls to the rider "Where are you doing?" and the rider responds as he dashes down the road: "I don't know, ask the horse!"
The horse is our emotional brain, the fears and anxieties that make us move according to instinct. It is also the Ox, the Monkey, the Elephant: any energetic, powerful, volatile animal will do. And the whole point of the story is this gut-check -- how much are you controlling the horse you ride?
The image really stops me in my tracks, and forces me to reckon with how much MY horse is barreling me down the road. I've become so accustomed to avoiding stress and anxiety that a lot of my life is built around doing that -- it doesn't matter how much time gets thrown into a memory hole because of it.
I'm watching a different Netflix series called "Carol & the End of the World", about this...painfully-shy mouse of a woman trying to navigate an apocalypse where everyone *else* is checking off their Bucket List. To me, it feels like Carol is...this human being who is very much the product of her environment, someone who appreciates the (very) small things in life and just can't comprehend the big questions. All she wants is a little corner of her world to keep orderly and occasionally go to Applebee's for her favorite trash food. She is a small woman who, to the bewilderment of the world around her, is perfectly content with her small life.
So when a planet named Keppler is predicted to slam into the planet within seven months, Carol has no idea what to do. While everyone else gleefully shrugs off the old life they had been living, she's left to mourn what she's lost alone...until she follows a woman dressed in a sharp business suit to an abandoned office building. There, she discovers a mysterious corporate bureaucracy called The Distraction and becomes quickly absorbed in the enterprise as an administrative assistant.
I think I find Carol so...relatable and easy to empathize with because we share that sense of frightened bewilderment when overwhelmed by things it feels like most people don't understand. Sometimes, with anxiety, it feels like I have the sensitivity and nervous system of a much smaller animal in a much larger casing. Like, I shouldn't be so rattled by constant background noise but it takes a lot for me to filter out those distractions and that's exhausting. So much of life can be exhausting in that same way -- like the constant background work of managing your own trauma responses and doing your best to handle the emotional burdens of those you care about, or feeling the weight of other people's visions of happiness for you.
There are so many instances where Carol sees someone else has an expectation of her that's more tied to *their* emotional well-being than her actual emotional needs. Her parents only feel OK about going on a world-ending cruise when she lies to them about taking up surfing. Her sister obsessively records her while asking questions that are "supposed" to unearth these deep insights lurking in her mind. A one-night stand begs her to give in to this connection they feel -- so he can replace the wife who left him. But she's not looking for anything more than what she has. If anything, her real problem is that she's never learned how to express an appreciation for the life she already leads.
Because there's no language in Carol's world for that. Her parents don't get why she has this longing for Applebee's; her sister doesn't understand why Carol has so much trouble relating to her. At some point, Carol realizes that she's not upholding her end of the social contract, and her response is a panicked apology and exit.
But in her daydreams, and when she's given time, Carol opens up with these tiny, weird, beautiful thoughts. She bonds with a new coworker over the banana bread she baked and they get matching t-shirts. She is genuinely afraid of being carried off by large birds. Her favorite memory of her sister is that time she got a perm, because it made her look like Whitney Houston -- who she loves. Slowly, over time, once she figures out how to build a space where she's comfortable doing so, Carol begins to open up and expand her life in the ways that make sense to her.
I relate to that feeling of pressure, where you know you're not enough for the people who love you because you're really this small, weird, kinda-banal person whose wavelength is not tuned to anyone else around you. What feels inspirational about Carol is that...even though the work of building these connections is fraught and difficult and full of harrowing, gut-churning experiences...on the whole it *is* improving Carol's life.
And, as we learn more about the people in her orbit, we see that Carol's strange and twisty thoughts are reflected in their inner lives as well. Her parents are in a throuple with her father's registered nurse that's as genuine as it is weird; Carol's coworkers, Luis and Donna, also wrestle with their vulnerability through the lens of their personal experience; the single dad who begs Carol to stay sinks into a deep depression, motivating his teenage son on his own journey to bring back his spirits.
I'm only four episodes in, but I can already tell this show is made for me. There's something about broken people earnestly trying to fix themselves in a crazy world that I will always show up for. Most people will not like this show because it's soooo slow and meditative; the animation is beautiful but distinct, building this interesting and surreal tone where you never forget that the world is...permanently tilted and won't get better.
It's the kind of show that's hard to talk about with other people, especially if they don't "get it". I think it's because I feel such a kinship with Carol it's hard not to take criticism of her (and the show) personally. Her dialogue feels like such a read on my inner monologue it's like..."Carol is who I really would be in a different universe". She can be frustrating and annoying and just...inert. But it's not because there's nothing going on in her head or she's a sad person who only wants to be sad and boring. She's a sensitive, perceptive, quiet person living in a society that doesn't teach quiet people how to find their voice, and doesn't reward those traits to begin with. She struggles to relate an emotional landscape she's never found a mirror for, and she needs the time, space and resources to learn how to do that. She needs a gentle touch and a genuine, non-judgemental space to relax into.
So yeah, maybe this is just my read, and the discovery of what *I* need.
On BlueSky, I mentioned that I was going to make myself a cocktail at 2 PM for a special occasion and some rando responded with "Why, did the mail just come in?". Looking over at his profile, it was filled with doomer talk about the Trump verdict and why it was actually a bad thing. I could tell he was just looking for someone's cereal to piss in...so I blocked him and moved on with my life. In another life, I would have assumed good faith and at least tossed him a bone, but now? My own head is good enough to tell me why this doesn't matter, thank you.
Sneppers ended up bringing company home last night, so I chose to hang with them instead of pursuing personal projects (likely FFXIV). We'll call this fellow "Dourfox". We go back a ways -- he was the first person I'd ever done E with -- and I genuinely like him, but he's also melancholic and tends toward burning bridges during arguments so...we keep a respectful distance.
We showed him his first Bad Boys movie -- Bad Boys For Life (#3). Honestly? It's a welcome surprise, the best movie of the series hands down. It was directed by Adil & Bilall, the Belgian-Moroccan duo that directed all of Ms. Marvel. And the writers were responsible for The Grey (one of the best thrillers of the 2010s), Top Gun: Maverick, and others. They even managed to make the banter between Smith & Lawrence feel natural; the characters had a consistency and depth they didn't have in the last two movies; and the action scenes were fun, kinetic, without feeling overwhelming. I genuinely loved it!
Joe Pantoliano's police chief has this story in the movie: a Buddhist monk is walking down the road when he hears heavy hoofbeats behind him. He turns to see this horse barreling right for him, so he quickly jumps aside and calls to the rider "Where are you doing?" and the rider responds as he dashes down the road: "I don't know, ask the horse!"
The horse is our emotional brain, the fears and anxieties that make us move according to instinct. It is also the Ox, the Monkey, the Elephant: any energetic, powerful, volatile animal will do. And the whole point of the story is this gut-check -- how much are you controlling the horse you ride?
The image really stops me in my tracks, and forces me to reckon with how much MY horse is barreling me down the road. I've become so accustomed to avoiding stress and anxiety that a lot of my life is built around doing that -- it doesn't matter how much time gets thrown into a memory hole because of it.
I'm watching a different Netflix series called "Carol & the End of the World", about this...painfully-shy mouse of a woman trying to navigate an apocalypse where everyone *else* is checking off their Bucket List. To me, it feels like Carol is...this human being who is very much the product of her environment, someone who appreciates the (very) small things in life and just can't comprehend the big questions. All she wants is a little corner of her world to keep orderly and occasionally go to Applebee's for her favorite trash food. She is a small woman who, to the bewilderment of the world around her, is perfectly content with her small life.
So when a planet named Keppler is predicted to slam into the planet within seven months, Carol has no idea what to do. While everyone else gleefully shrugs off the old life they had been living, she's left to mourn what she's lost alone...until she follows a woman dressed in a sharp business suit to an abandoned office building. There, she discovers a mysterious corporate bureaucracy called The Distraction and becomes quickly absorbed in the enterprise as an administrative assistant.
I think I find Carol so...relatable and easy to empathize with because we share that sense of frightened bewilderment when overwhelmed by things it feels like most people don't understand. Sometimes, with anxiety, it feels like I have the sensitivity and nervous system of a much smaller animal in a much larger casing. Like, I shouldn't be so rattled by constant background noise but it takes a lot for me to filter out those distractions and that's exhausting. So much of life can be exhausting in that same way -- like the constant background work of managing your own trauma responses and doing your best to handle the emotional burdens of those you care about, or feeling the weight of other people's visions of happiness for you.
There are so many instances where Carol sees someone else has an expectation of her that's more tied to *their* emotional well-being than her actual emotional needs. Her parents only feel OK about going on a world-ending cruise when she lies to them about taking up surfing. Her sister obsessively records her while asking questions that are "supposed" to unearth these deep insights lurking in her mind. A one-night stand begs her to give in to this connection they feel -- so he can replace the wife who left him. But she's not looking for anything more than what she has. If anything, her real problem is that she's never learned how to express an appreciation for the life she already leads.
Because there's no language in Carol's world for that. Her parents don't get why she has this longing for Applebee's; her sister doesn't understand why Carol has so much trouble relating to her. At some point, Carol realizes that she's not upholding her end of the social contract, and her response is a panicked apology and exit.
But in her daydreams, and when she's given time, Carol opens up with these tiny, weird, beautiful thoughts. She bonds with a new coworker over the banana bread she baked and they get matching t-shirts. She is genuinely afraid of being carried off by large birds. Her favorite memory of her sister is that time she got a perm, because it made her look like Whitney Houston -- who she loves. Slowly, over time, once she figures out how to build a space where she's comfortable doing so, Carol begins to open up and expand her life in the ways that make sense to her.
I relate to that feeling of pressure, where you know you're not enough for the people who love you because you're really this small, weird, kinda-banal person whose wavelength is not tuned to anyone else around you. What feels inspirational about Carol is that...even though the work of building these connections is fraught and difficult and full of harrowing, gut-churning experiences...on the whole it *is* improving Carol's life.
And, as we learn more about the people in her orbit, we see that Carol's strange and twisty thoughts are reflected in their inner lives as well. Her parents are in a throuple with her father's registered nurse that's as genuine as it is weird; Carol's coworkers, Luis and Donna, also wrestle with their vulnerability through the lens of their personal experience; the single dad who begs Carol to stay sinks into a deep depression, motivating his teenage son on his own journey to bring back his spirits.
I'm only four episodes in, but I can already tell this show is made for me. There's something about broken people earnestly trying to fix themselves in a crazy world that I will always show up for. Most people will not like this show because it's soooo slow and meditative; the animation is beautiful but distinct, building this interesting and surreal tone where you never forget that the world is...permanently tilted and won't get better.
It's the kind of show that's hard to talk about with other people, especially if they don't "get it". I think it's because I feel such a kinship with Carol it's hard not to take criticism of her (and the show) personally. Her dialogue feels like such a read on my inner monologue it's like..."Carol is who I really would be in a different universe". She can be frustrating and annoying and just...inert. But it's not because there's nothing going on in her head or she's a sad person who only wants to be sad and boring. She's a sensitive, perceptive, quiet person living in a society that doesn't teach quiet people how to find their voice, and doesn't reward those traits to begin with. She struggles to relate an emotional landscape she's never found a mirror for, and she needs the time, space and resources to learn how to do that. She needs a gentle touch and a genuine, non-judgemental space to relax into.
So yeah, maybe this is just my read, and the discovery of what *I* need.
