As Long as Everything in the Middle is Good, Who Cares If the Ending--

The last episode of a TV show or movie in a franchise is supposed to provide closure, preferably with some sort of connection to the first episode or movie.

For example, the last episode of The Cosby Show is about Theo graduating from NYU, making the connection with the first episode, when Theo was contemplating dropping out of high school, the episode in which Bill Cosby uttered the famous line “I brought you into this world, and I’ll take you out [of it].”

The final shot of Toy Story 3 consists of a group of clouds moving across the sky in the same pattern as the wallpaper in the first shot of Toy Story.

The last episode of Seinfeld repeats the conversation about George’s button from the pilot.

C-3PO, who says the first line in A New Hope, says the last line in Revenge of the Sith, while onboard the same ship.

When done right, it’s often impressive; the creators show that they know just how to pull at the audience’s nostalgic heartstrings. But if it’s done wrong, it seems forced and just plain stupid. Some might use this all-too-common aspect to say that closure is overrated and not really necessary. But this argument, like many arguments, falls prey to the “it depends on the show/movie” defense. 

...Well, That Was Random.

I love random phrases; more specifically, I love phrases for which the context is unknown.  The title of this blog is taken from one of my personal favorites, a quote from Ernest Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises.

I found another one of my favorites while I was reading a book for one of my literature class. This specific section was about how the term literature was too broad to cover the many different types of literature there are; one person’s view on what literature is different from another person’s. To illustrate his point, the author made a connection with the word weed, which covers all sorts of plants. To some, a dandelion is a weed while to others, it is a beautiful flower. This, of course, led to the greatest line ever written… of all time.

              

  “Perhaps literature is like weed.”

              

  I laughed for about a minute and a half.

               

           This fascination with random phrases is ironic, because in any other part of my life, I would hate for things to be random. I enjoy routine. If something goes other than according to plan, I don’t know what to do with myself. I know what day of the week it is only because what I did yesterday tells me what day that was. Routine is very important to me. But do something other than what I expect while reading, and I laugh for a minute and a half. 

After writing a paper 'til the wee hours, one thinks about swearing a lot...

I always find it amusing when swear words become part of common phrases that don’t make sense when one considers the original meaning of the swear word.

For example, if something is “the sh#@,” it means it is pretty cool (ex: “Yeah, man, this song is the sh#@!”). If “sh#@” means excrement; that means that when saying this you are comparing this thing you think is cool to excrement. It doesn’t work if you use a synonym: “Man, this song is awesome!” “I know man, it’s totally poop! It’s excrement. It totally brings bowel movements to mind.” “…That’s gross, man”.  

Sometimes, rather than being contradictory, the phrase ends up being just nonsensical. This is best seen in the case of the word “a$$.” For some reason, it gets attached to all sorts of other words because…it enhances it somehow. Smart-a$$, Dumb-a$$, Bad-a$$, Lame-a$$, etc. Again, it doesn’t make sense when you use a synonym: “You’re such a dumb-butt.” “Dude! That was so bad-posterior!” “What a lame-derriere joke.” 

Doesn't quite make it through translation intact, does it?

(written the next morning)

Whoa, this is weird. I guess this is what my mind thinks about at 2 am. 

Comparative Analysis

As stories of destruction and survival continue to pour in from Japan following the recent 8.9 earthquake and resulting tsunamis, the seemingly inevitable line of thinking for a lot of people is to take this opportunity and use it to teach us about how petty the problems we have are. Oh, you have a lot of homework? Well, people are dying in Japan! Oh, you’re having utility problems in your house? Well, people are dying in Japan! Oh, you’re not feeling so well? You think you might be coming down with a cold? Well, people are dying in Japan!

           

While I understand the tragic nature of this natural disaster, I’ve never been a fan of this argument. To me, knowing that there are worse problems elsewhere in the world doesn’t diminish the problems I already have. Using other people’s tragedies to guilt me into realizing that, in the always-alluded-to “grand scheme of things,” my problems aren’t so bad should not be as prevalent as it is. We should just live with the problems we have, not compare and contrast them with other people’s problems. It doesn’t seem like the right attitude to bring to these situations. 

Peace and Quiet

The above is what is printed on the cards handed out by students participating in the National Day of Silence, a movement that started in 1996 at the University of Virginia. Students refuse to speak to peers and, permissibly, teachers for a certain period of time on the assigned day (the length varies depending on individual school groups). They find other ways to communicate, using hand gestures, facial expressions and writing messages in legal pads that they carry around with them. The idea is that, because lesbian, gay, bisexual and transsexual students are pressured into silence by their evil intolerant peers, the silence of the participants reflects that silence and brings attention to the LGBT cause.

Which, ironically, is perfectly fine for an anti-gay rights person.

Think about it: If you’re in an argument with a particularly vocal opponent, there is nothing you want more than to have that opponent just shut up, no matter how long. In fact, I’m convinced the idea originally came from an anti-gay rights person. This is how the conversation might have gone:

LGBT-supporter: Furthermore, we will not tolerate your intolerance of…

LGBT-opponent: Will you just be quiet for one day?!

LGBT-supporter (after thinking): …That’s a great idea!

LGBT-opponent: All right!

Of course, that might not be entirely accurate. 

An Uncomfortable Presence to the Rear (or: In Which the Mundane Act of Wallet Relocation Becomes the Most Aggravating Thing Ever. Of All Time.)

I put my wallet in a different pocket the other day.

Riveting, right?

After being informed that keeping my wallet in the front pocket of my pants was stupid and that it should be placed in the back pocket, I decided to give that a try. After all, I had often puzzled over the fact that my pockets frequently felt overstuffed. Maybe the slight change in the routine arrangement of things in my pockets would actually be beneficial; the extra room might do me good someday.

You wouldn’t believe how much that simple act of wallet relocation threw my day for a loop. Everything in me wanted to react to this new feeling of something behind me; it took constant reminding to remember the fact that it was just my wallet and it was supposed to be there.

Want to reach behind me and remove the object that accidentally attached itself to the seat of my pants? Nope, that’s my wallet and it’s supposed to be there. Want to do something about that thing that I just sat on? Nope, that’s my wallet, and it’s supposed to be there.

Imagine if I had changed an actually significant part of my routine, like what I ate or where I went.

Scary.