The Power of Words

How can anyone hope to overcome something for which there isn't even a word to describe?

The Sixth Nightmare

Despite what you might have heard to the contrary, greatness and happiness are mutually exclusive.

It is simple to be happy (do not misread "simple" as "easy"). To be happy is to have the faith to say "yes." To be happy is to live in the moment, in the now; to be happy is to drink in life as it happens and appreciate it at face value. The happy man says "the food I eat is good food and I am thankful for it" or "I am fortunate to have such people in my life." The happy mind thinks "I always have enough, no matter what I have." The happy man is never alone, even when he is by himself. The happy family is solid in communication and even more so in interactivity. The happy soul understands everything that is, is; that which is cannot be otherwise, regardless of whether it could have been otherwise. The Happy glisten in the light.

To be great is both complex and complicated. To be great is to have the courage to say "no." To be great is to live for the future, for the potential; to be great is to see the world as how it could be and determine to make it so. The great man says "I can think of a way to make that better" or "there are yet more challenges to be overcome." The great mind thinks "there is always a way to improve upon the world." The great man is always alone, even when in the company of other great men. The great family is--should it exist--disconnected and independently ambitious. The great soul is compelled to transform the unreal into the real, the imagined into the created. The Great do not permit themselves to be afraid of the dark.

Sleep comes well to the happy man, while the great man is kept awake by his demons. The great man is dismissed and disliked by those who do not understand; the happy man is envied and emulated by them. While is is no small feat to achieve either happiness or greatness, there are--arguably--more Happy than Great. Yet how many fewer Happy would there be if it weren't for the deeds of the Great? And how many fewer Great would there be if not for the determination that their ambitions might bring about an increase in the number of the Happy?

I am determined to become great, knowing full well what horrors I would overcome, what horrors I must also commit.

Comic Relief

I know I've already made a mention of Iron Man, but he's making another appearance thanks to The Graphic Classroom. I've been considering the idea of covering comic books in the classroom thanks to several notable titles which I feel exemplify the art form, demonstrating its vast and unique potential. Comic books hold a distinction as a truly American creation, yet for whatever reason are not widely studied or explored. There has, in the past, been a stigma associated with them--namely that they "rot your brain"--but I feel that their potential to teach and inspire is no different than such works as the Harry Potter, City of Ember, the Artemis Fowl series, etc.

I know what sorts of thoughts still exist regarding comics: "Comic books are just a cheap story set to pictures" or "Comics are all a bunch of violent pictures strung together with profanity and nudity." Yes, some comics are nothing more than these. Just like some books are nothing more than cheaply-written sex scenes and mushy drivel (this is why books by Zane or Stephanie Meyer books aren't taught as literature).

Comic books retain a distinct ability to get into a character's head in a way that has yet to be effectively translated into other mediums like books or film. Additionally, the worlds created by comics are--more or less, but not exclusively--the new myths of the 21st century.

With this in mind, I submit the following list of comics as worthy of exploration:

Civil War
Superman/Batman:Supergirl
Superman/Batman: Absolute Power
Invincible Iron Man vol. 1
Just about anything from the Fantastic Four

Hatin' on da Baby Daddies

I hate the term "baby daddy." I hold nothing but the utmost contempt for the word and the fact that it has so thoroughly infiltrated our culture. Among several flaws with the term, the greatest, I feel, is that it is generally a prescriptive--rather than descriptive--label. And yet at the same time I must respect the concept behind the term; no other word in the English language picks out the specific set of criteria that "baby daddy" picks out. The need for such a word (though I should want for one that is less slang and more connotatively neutral) is significant if we are to accurately and--more importantly--honestly describe ourselves. Especially here in America, the nature of our relationships is blurring and evolving all the time: our definitions for family, interpersonal relationships, and even our selves are in constant flux.

It has become quite apparent that he status of the American family is in upheaval (not turmoil or jeopardy as many would have you believe). The concept of a family unit being strictly isolated to a mother, father, and 2.5 children seems, at times, as easy to find nowadays as a car phone or a dot matrix printer. However, despite this shift, the expectations that a family "should" be comprised of a wed man and wife as well as the children they have produced together is still persistent, even among many people whose family structure does not match this ideal.

Maybe if we were more informed about all the various ways a family can look, if we gave ourselves the language to honestly describe ourselves, we might not be so quick to bite and snarl at people whose differences would otherwise seem like "an attack on the institution of the American Family."

Land of the Lotus Eaters

Yes, Tony Hoagland, I, too, am asleep in America. And its noise is invading my dreams; my alarm clock becomes the sound of traffic outside, Oprah becomes the sound of my sophistication, porn becomes the sound of my idling thoughts. When I'm fortunate enough to wake for a moment I realize it's all as senseless as the time I chased Frankenstein across Mexico on a train with no tracks or the time I fled from zombies in New York by jumping from building-to-building and dodging the nets they threw at me (yes, zombies wield nets, and do so quite well).

And just as we all dream of falling, of breaking off our teeth, of showing up late for class naked, so, too, do we all dream of having consequence-free sex with beautiful strangers, caring about the mundane exploits of recognizable celebrities, and treating teachers with less respect than men who race cars for a living.

No, I, too, am asleep. And when I wake I am too upset by my dreams to get out of bed and wake up the few people I can. I wait for Odysseus to carry me away to his ship, since only a hero can do what is so far beyond the reach of the rest of us. I know that he's never going to arrive, and yet I'm too afraid to awaken even one of my companions by myself because I know I can't wake them all.

I Hope You Have No Hope For The Future

I sat down to re-watch Iron Man 2 the other day; after taking some time to look at it again, I can't help but have mixed feelings after watching this latest adventure from the Man of Tomorrow. Iron Man is supposed to embody the future: technology at its pinnacle, working to best accomplish whatever goal Tony Stark envisions. Tony Stark is a notable visionary who has claimed (thanks to Brian Michael Bendis on one great occasion):
I can see what the world will look like, and I can see what the world will need to make that future worth living for. I see what we will need and I invent the thing that will help us get there.

At first, the ideas of Iron Man and technology that this movie exudes--when not engaging in baffling fight scenes and the not-so-subtle promotion of other assorted Marvel projects--are exhilarating. The concepts whose entire purpose are mere special effects in the background filled me with a bright hope for what must certainly be looming just over the horizon. I'm not ashamed to say that this sense of thrill and wonder lasted for more than a few days until I finally managed to step back and examine just what I was feeling.

This wonder that I had initially taken for an energetic hope for the future gave way to an introspective look at just what it was that I wanted. I didn't want to be a part of the myriad revolutions of thought and imagination that would give birth to such wonders; I did not long to toil away in a lab or a workshop making all the necessary mistakes and advancements; I certainly did not dream to master all of the groundwork laid out by history's great doers so that I could further their life's works with my own sweat. What was it that I was hoping for? I was hoping for someone else to do it and for them to give it to me at a reasonable price.

After this realization, I promptly grew infuriated with myself for feeling this. "Gee, I hope somebody else figures this out for me." I suppose the damage may be entirely incidental. "Hope" is not always used as a passive wanting, but it certainly doesn't inspire action regardless of its use. "I hope they call soon." "I hope you like my work." I would much rather focus my efforts and be determined. "I am determined to contact them." "I am determined to produce quality work." Hope for the future? I suppose you can hope for the future if you want it handed to you. There's no guarantee what will be handed you, though. As for me, I plan to be determined for the future.