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.
