Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts

Tuesday, 9 March 2010

Abstract Mortality...with Peter Faulk

How do we make our decisions? People have been trying to answer the question for many years, dogs years even, and for a part, they have answered it. We make our decisions with a complex mix of weighing options, experience, trial and error and personal responsibility.

However, one little thing always seems to get in the way, a pesky little thing called a conscience. Little bastard that it is, it brings something called morals into the whole process, meaning that there is a distinct difference between the cold, calculating decisions we could make, and the decisions we do make every day, all the time. Thoughts are the gateway to decision, and if there is one thing that everybody does, its over think. Unless you're an idiot. In what must be the most ridiculous segway, here's a blog about the 1987 German film Der Himmel über Berlin, also known as Wings of Desire, directed by Wim Wenders, and written by Peter Handke and Wim Wenders. Bam. Love it.

Angels are a fickle thing to portray in any forms of cinematic representation. Its difficult to show them without them being either omnipotent jackasses or emotionless vegetables that spout philosophical wisdom until they exit stage left. Handke seems to portray a type of angelic figure that is if not the truest, certainly the most interesting. The Angels, named Damiel and Cassiel wander around, listening to the thoughts of the people of Berlin, examining what they think about, their moral discourses and their way of life. The movie brushes over several people, showing their worries and obsessions, such as a heartbroken man, and a pregnant woman, but on top of this, they pay particular attention to certain citizens of Berlin in order to focus in on the different parts of the human condition. They encounter an old man named Homer, who parallels the ancient poet, whilst completely opposing him at the same time (Homer focused on poems of War, whereas this old man is designated a man of peace), a suicidal man, and for some reason, Peter Faulk, as Peter Faulk, who is for some reason a former Angel. No one said it was simple.

One of the Angels, Damiel, falls in love with a fair maiden at a Circus, and longs to be with her. Luckily, Peter Fulk is there to explain that he used to be an Angel himself, and indeed turned into a human, showing that the goal mortality is one that is very much in reach, and Damiel decides to take the plunge. It is in this we see what the Angels have been longing for, and the choice that they must make. In sacrificing their immortality, they are granted the pleasures of humanity; taste, touch, interaction, pain, love and colours. The movie, whilst focusing mostly on how humanity is dry and worrisome, contained within its own winding thoughts, shows the privilege of existence. How truly blessed we are to feel, taste, interact and create. Its harrowing.

The decision that The Angel Damiel made to become human is one that can be looked at as one of stupidity, given that he was once immortal, but it is impossible for us to know what it is like to not feel, to not be able to interact, and so we must realise that we are blessed. We must stop overthinking, and simply enjoy being human.

Otherwise, you might go crazy, and then you and everyone around you is screwed.

Wednesday, 10 October 2007

Are you not entertained?!

I will now post about a topic which is especially dear to my heart. Call me deadpan, but i will now dicuss with the eternally oblique opinions housed in my cranium. The subject is sitcoms. throughout my life, i have felt that sitcoms were the best kind of anti deppresant. As i a child, i would much rather cosy up with jokes i didnt understand and sexual innuendos that had no meaning to me, rather than watch the turgid CBBC or read the arduous books my mother reccomended so prominently. There was just a warm familiarity as i watched the paranoid pshycologist gaper around.

Laughing along to the audience was a delicious prospect, and not only did i watch these stage set shows casually, I felt i watched them with an air of proffesionalism. I was able to make a big deal out of these shows. I was able to give these shows the attention that they deserved. I would make food, i would set aside other things, just to have the private time with these sparkling, blissful televison sequences.

This "was" i am repeating has transferred to my present self. the one remenant of my childhood has kept with me. The temptation to shuck off childhood habits upon the infernal "coming of age" is huge, but the temptation to re-watch the inconsistent stylings of newsradio is even larger. These older sitcoms have helped to structure who i am. They have showed me what i might acomplish, and what life could be like at the same time. They have allowed me to realised my overall passion for comedic elements in all their various forms.

Overall, they make you feel good.

Which brings me neatly (and not at all planned) to the newer sitcoms. Also known as English sitcoms. Noticeable in the latest bout of new writers is that many of the themes are to do with prisons, or the unemployed. this does not interest me to a startling scale. I dont care about the problems and hilarity that could be encountered in a prison cell. (although admittedly porridge was hilarious in parts)

I want to know about the hilarity in a coffee shop. I think you all know what im talking about...

Im talking about the king (or queen) of sitcoms. sitting on its throne as an arbiter of all that is famous. I am of course refrencing the eternally great Ellen. Right guys? eh? eeeh?

Yeah!