Better Living Through Introspection

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

I haven’t read this book in a while, but for some reason the phrase popped into my head in response to an unusual afternoon downtime introspection: how am I feeling right now? Why is it I feel this way? What is it that has prompted me to follow this train of thought? Is it that the network is down and I can’t access the documents I need? Perhaps. Can I gain something from following this line of reasoning other than content for the blog? Perhaps not.

Yet there it is, still in the front of my mind: the unbearable lightness of being. What to do? What to do? I think perhaps I am using this phrase in a manner Kundera might not have intended; if I recall, he was referring to some vague notion of conflict between happiness and sadness gained through freedom and action, and some ultimate consequence or implication of inescapable sadness.

Hmmm. Hold on a second. I gotta go…I’ll get back to this later.

I promise.

[...]

Well, here I am, twelve hours later breaking that promise. One distraction (um, we call it “work” around here) led to another and here I am, eyes bloodshot, exhausted, running on empty, with another long day ahead of me — having re-read the beginning of this entry, I must say that particular train of thought is so far away, that I have no idea what I could possibly be thinking of…perhaps I was inescapably happy or sad for a few minutes yesterday? Who knows.

You do. You called while I was writing. It was good to hear your voice.

This is so frustrating. Will someone please tell me what is the unbearable lightness of being? Maybe you can help me find that misplaced thought process. (Movie references not accepted.)

The decline of american civilization [sic], part 73
In which i blame the state of the union on sex and the city, boot-licking capitalist stooges, social darwinism, the riaa, and david letterman…

You know you’re getting old when old-fogey phrases such as widespread moral decay start unexpectedly popping out of your mouth during otherwise nondescript conversations.

i don’t want to go off on a rant here
<dennis miller> but don’t you love it when you come in to work early and you realize you forgot your key so after a half-hour of knocking on the door and ringing the bell you’re getting so frustrated at yourself for being a moron, then someone else arrives and lets you in and you walk in and in the office RIGHT NEXT TO THE DOOR is someone typing away happily at her desk WHO COULD HAVE LET YOU IN A HALF HOUR AGO.</dennis miller>
i am going to be so productive today.

i was watching titus
and i don’t mean that less-than-entertaining fox broadcast (stacy keach! how could you?!). i mean the movie titus based on the play by heavyweight champion of the literary world william shakespeare. it was a favorite play of mine in high school, ever since seeing it performed in stratford-upon-avon at the…swan? was it?…theatre, which is a theatre-in-the-round — a detail not necessary for this story, just a little extra for ya. this play is perhaps shakespeare’s most violent, most horrifying, most devastating one ever. and, it was one of his earliest.

this movie seems to be another in a long line of “let’s take a shakespeare play and move it to a more modern setting so as to make it more accessible for today’s idiot, spoon-fed audiences” but it is actually a beautifully-done adaptation, brilliantly directly by julie taymor (of the lion king on broadway fame, also known for her direction of oedipus rex). the dvd version of titus has some nice interviews with julie explaining her vision, her goals, the filming, etc…anecdotes you might not normally hear…well worth it if you’re into this kind of movie.

but that’s not my story. my story is this: while watching the movie, there came a certain monologue of titus (played rather well by sir anthony hopkins) and i found to my astonishment that i knew the words. certainly not odd, having read it before on several occasions, but not only did i know the words, i felt as though i had spoken them before. such a disturbing scene. such a disturbing feeling. (i won’t give away the details of the scene, in case you’ve never seen the play or the movie.) then i remembered i had performed this very monologue for one of my acting classes (many moons ago i was very much into acting, but that’s another set of stories for another time).

not much of a denouement, i supposed, but my question to you is this: why would this little history of me be locked up? shouldn’t it have been more on the surface, say from the instant i picked up the dvd? why is it i had only remembered seeing the play performed, but not actually performing part of it myself? that’s one for the ages. i was telling a friend this same story the other day and she summed it up with “isn’t it funny how the brain works sometimes?” hardly the ending i was looking for. hardly a summation to do this story justice.

but it is funny, don’t you think?

reasonable links : : : titus : : : three birds with one stone

okay, now it’s here
i’m just not sure if i like it.