10 Years of Not Talking About…

The film adaptation of Fight Club was released 10 years ago today. It was a disappointment financially and then found critical and cult love in the years afterward. Some point to it as one of the pop cultural turning points that signal the death of the 20^th century. We had become bored by prosperity, complacent about security and peace, and indifferent to the luxuries that less fortunate countries would kill for. The push back against that could be found in the nihilistic desire for self destruction that made the novel so stunning and the film so utterly watchable.

In the post 9/11 world, it seems like condemnation of the cultural thought process that could provoke the attacks. We were fat, lazy, spoiled, and entitlement oozed out from every pore. Has that changed much? No, unfortunately. As opposed to changing our lives, we opted for color coordinated security threats, duct tape, and the overwhelming force of our young men and women in the armed forces to protect our right to not change.

But for those of us who have nothing, have a little, or are constantly told we need more, Fight Club offered a different suggestion. Do not build; destroy. It is in destruction that we find our true selves, not in the vein attempts at betterment. It was a modern day ‘A Modest Proposal’ against the overwhelming consumerism that had invaded our lives.

10 years later, the power of both the book and film still resonate. While the merits of the twist ending can be debated and embraced or dismissed, the strength of the story lies in the first half as a young man who feels trapped by doing the ‘right’ things with his life finds freedom in doing the ‘wrong’ thing. By allowing himself to tap into the violence, rage, and pain that we feel and swallow on a daily basis, Jack finds that he’s more alive than he allowed himself to be ever before. It’s a story about choice, about questioning what you’re learned, what you’ve been taught, and what you think you want in life. For those suffering from the post college malaise of trying to figure out what it means to be a man in a world that constantly urges us to suppress some of the darker aspects of what makes us men, Fight Club came on like revelation.

The film solidified for me Brad Pitt’s transformation from the pretty boy persona that made him famous into the interesting character actor he’s become. Ed Norton has never had a better role in his life. And this is my absolute favorite David Fincher film. I love this movie. It’s one of the movies that make me want to make movies. I haven’t seen it in its entirety in a few years, but I could probably quote you full scenes. This is in large part thanks to the author of the novel, Chuck Palahniuk.

I went through a huge Palahniuk phase. His phrasing and style hooked me and certainly influenced my style (down to straight out theft of style in the year following reading Fight Club for the first time). To me, Survivor is his best novel. Part of me hopes that they never make that into a movie. Part of me hopes that if they do, I get a chance at adapting the script. Part of me doesn’t want to touch it and only wants to watch it unfold before me like the novel did.

The point of this all is to honor a story, a film, its creators and artists because as an artist, as an American, as a man it has influenced me to a large degree. Happy 10^th Fight Club!

Prepare to evacuate soul.

President Jedi

Awesome. Just awesome.

The World After

On 9.11.01, I was working at a data entry company with my mother. When I got to work, my mother had already been there for about an hour. I can’t remember how it started exactly. Someone was listening to the radio and I heard people saying that a plane had hit one of the World Trade Center towers. A tragic accident, we all assumed. Then reports of another plane hitting the other tower. Then a third hitting the Pentagon.

My mother looked up at me said, ‘Our country’s under attack.’

My first instinct was to think that, like normal, my mother was exaggerating – letting fear get the best of her. There were so many wild reports that day that it became easier to believe that people were perpetuating a hoax of some kind. But for three hours, the office began to huddle around the radio listening to news. It felt unreal. Impossible. This was a modern day ‘War of the Worlds’ for sure. But as it sunk in, I knew I needed to get home and see it. Needed to see the images for it to be real.

And we didn’t turn off the TV for what felt like weeks. News started scrolling at the bottom of the screen, it was coming in so fast. No one knew how to make sense of it, let alone report it. What was real and what was fake? How did this happen and who was responsible? Why?

The other thing I remember about that day… it was beautiful. The perfect temperature, clear blue sky, nice breeze… perfect. It was as though the Earth itself was mocking the awfulness that was happening - or that God wanted everyone to have a clear view of horror.

The irony of this post’s name is not lost on me. To assume that what happens in the US happens to the entire world is the same narrow-mindedness that contributed to the hate that was directed at us 8 years ago. But it is not as simple as that. Nothing about this situation is black and white. It is complicated and full of ideological issues that are so entrenched and sometimes irrational that some kind of peace seems impossible.

But this is really about how life changed in a lot of big and small ways for everyone here. The feeling of world for us changed. There’s an anxiety and pensiveness that permeates our lives. It’s not totally a matter of safety and security. It’s like that moment when you realize… I am mortal. I will one day die. I feel like our country as a whole went through that moment in our history that now shades how we move forward.

Yet, moving forward is essential. I don’t believe the best days of our country are behind us. We have so much we can accomplish for the good of the whole world. If we can fulfill the dream of our founders and honor all those that gave their service and lives for the betterment of this country, then the US can be what we’re selling it to be. But the only way to do that is to constantly push to move forward and be better. We cannot be complacent with how things are. We must always push ourselves to be a better nation than we are today.

To those that lost a loved one, I hope that you have been able to find some peace and solace in the years since. I don’t think it’s enough for us to never forget them. We have to make their deaths mean more than just the start of our collective fear, grief, and anxiety. We owe it to them to make this country better.

First Post

So, I finally broke down and embraced the masturbatory hobby of having a blog. I am going to try and post things that are not about ME so much as my impressions on whatever strikes my fancy. Entertainment and politics will probably be the most covered arena.

I'm also a sketch writer for Stone Cold Fox, a sketch group at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre in NY as well as being a writer/producer for g14 Productions in Northern Virginia. I do a lot of work for both and figured it'd be neat to document the process of writing two very different sets of material.

And as you can tell from the title of ye olde blog, this will also be about chronicling my journey into middle age. I've been feeling my years lately and figured I should have some record of how I became the cranky old man I'm sure to become. So why not do it with a fancy blog that all the kids are using while listening to their rock and roll music? Damn kids.

I'm also getting married in a month. Yeah, I have a lot going that I want to record. So what? You're not the boss of me.

Wow... first post and I'm already lashing out against my imaginary critics. Portent of doom or sign of the greatest blog ever?