Monkey Wars!

I’ve been meaning to write about an interaction I had with a friend the other day (weeks ago), but I’ve been… lazy (for lack of a better word).

It started out, as many things do, talking about myself.  We waxed on and on about life goals and situations that we’ve found ourselves experiencing, when all of the sudden we somehow realized a connection that went beyond the superficial and bordered on… humanity?  Our proverbial monkeys.

It’s true, everyone seems to have a monkey on their back telling them that they aren’t good enough, or that what they feel is somehow not valid.  This monkey, for me, has led to some pretty asinine shit — particularly when it comes to the opposite sex.  However, I’m not here to moan and complain about my shitty little neuroses (pardon the french, but it’s a quote I read somewhere [Neil LaBute]).  I’m here to talk about a moment that I shared with someone that seemed to bridge the connection between each of our own respective monkeys and somehow make it feel like we were fighting the same monkey.

Monkey wars!

Why is it that we grow up in a world where everyone is so concerned about winning.  We watch sports and root for our team to win — and when they don’t, we look for every excuse as to why they should’ve won, but…

<– non sequitur –>

Throughout school, there is this purveying fear of failure.  But…

FAILURE IS HOW WE LEARN.

This isn’t a rant about being second place, with being mediocre — failing and stopping is not okay.  And yet, failing in order to succeed almost sounds pedantic and trite.  Why is it that failure and success seem to be so opposite.  I think I heard a quote once, or I made it up (I probably heard it and am currently bastardizing it):

Failure is not failure if it leads to success.  It’s a minor speed bump, a step in a direction that isn’t wrong, but merely isn’t right.   — Someone, somewhere

Can you not be right and still not be wrong?

They talked a lot about making decisions that aren’t necessarily right or wrong in acting.  That there isn’t a “right” way to do something in a scene, but that there are lots of “wrong” ways.  What this seems to hover around is a thing that humans (we) call the “grey area.”  This has been the bane of my existence for a long time.  You see, the “grey area,” as they call it can contain any sort of things that people either don’t want to explain, or can’t; see “grey matter.”

As you can imagine, someone such as myself is driven crazy (sorry for the passive voice) by this concept.  I yearn to figure out why things are the way they are; why people do the things they do; and especially why I think the things I think.  This is the source, the fuel of my curiosity.

What it seems to boil down to is laziness.

I realize that there are things beyond my powers of comprehension right now, but that doesn’t mean that I lump it all together in a “grey area.”  No!  I yearn and pine to find out the answer, and merely label it as: as of yet, unknown.

Maybe one day I’ll hope to find the answers to the questions I seek.  I merely find it entirely frustrating being surrounded by people who are not only okay with being mediocre, but accept it as fact and live their life in the “grey area” of life — just letting things they don’t understand pass by them.

Love, morality, and other conveniences…

A friend of mine recently asked me to be a party to a secret mission, a secret sabotage mission, if you will.  Being a good-natured friend, of course, I gladly accepted.  The task itself was pretty simple, in and of itself, but the actual ramifications–if caught–could be devastating.  You might ask me why I took up arms with my fellow brother, or more importantly, you might ask what the mission exactly entailed; I can only answer that I am always one for adventure, and that the details aren’t worth the trouble…

The bigger question that we should be asking is:

If something happens in your life that makes you feel better about yourself, better about the world around you, can it be a bad thing?   — Bigger question

Let’s talk specifics…

• A girl, who is very rude and very mean to people trying to reach out through an online dating site has been posting pictures of the messages sent to woo her on Facebook.
• Her friends, and other Facebook aficionados, bombard the post with insults and witticisms, dissecting it ad nauseam.
• A friend of mine discovers this treachery(?), decides it’s wrong, and launches a campaign (read: a fake profile) to teach her a lesson.

So, here’s where I come in…  And I love this reasoning that people have, because it can become very “convenient.”

“Seton, you’re an actor.”

“Yes…”

“We need you to pretend to be this person and write a letter for this online dating site.”

“It’s late.  You’re my friends.  Let’s do this.”

Questions of morality come up.  Is this the right thing to do?  Is there a better way?  Two wrongs clearly do not make a right…  But something inside me (perhaps the Sapporo) thinks “why the hell not?”  We write the letter, craft it ever-so-carefully, and unleash it upon our unsuspecting victim.  She… replies!

Now, this is where things getting murky.  As I’m falling asleep, I wonder to myself if I were to receive an email from an imaginary person that seemed entirely interested in me–intrigued, and whatnot–would it make me feel good?  Yes.  Would it lift my spirits the next day? Yes.  Could I assume that it would then start a chain of events that led to other positive things occurring in my life?  Yes.  So, is it really a bad thing that occurred?

Morality |məˈralətē, mô-| noun  principles concerning the distinction between right and wrong or good and bad behavior.

Anyone adhering to moral absolutism would automatically assert that this act was wrong, inherently.  However, we clearly do not live in a world that practices or preaches moral absolutism.  This reminds me of a movie quote:

The human voice is different from other sounds.  It can be heard over noises that bury everything else.  Even when it’s not shouting.  Even when it’s just a whisper.  Even the lowest whisper can be heard–over armies… when it’s telling the truth.   —  The Interpreter

I think everyone wants to find love, to be in love, to be loved.  Is there a real difference between someone you know loving you and someone you don’t know loving you?  What does it actually mean to feel the existence of love?  I keep butting up against the conundrum about pulling a hair off of someone’s back.  You pull the hair off, do you say anything?  Does it matter if you do…?  You’ve performed the task, the objective is complete.  There’s no need to say anything except seeking praise, letting the other person know that you care.  Is that selfish?  Or is it necessary?

Necessary  |ˈnesəˌserē| adjective  required to be done, achieved, or present; needed; essential.