wake up and smell the 90s
november 17, 2007
what i mean is this: the person we thought we were, the person we really were, the person we are now, the person we think we are, the person we will be, and the person we want to become. those six sides to life's cube, the die that we cast routinely everyday and only sometimes, moments like now when everything feels important, remember to blow on it for good luck.
is there a way to ascribe meaning to any of this? because what feels new and real and important today, the actions we make based on that, where does that lead us tomorrow?
i keep returning to this scene in die hard 2: sgt. al powell, taking a break from taping family matters, makes a cameo to fax from los angeles fingerprints to john mcclane at the dulles international airport in washington, d.c. mcclane, as i recall, busy accepting "ravish me" eyes from the female airport staff member allowing him use of the telephone, is amazed and shocked at the facsimile. and thankfully for his wife and others circling in the air above, running low on jet fuel, the fax is the first clue (the fingerprints are of a rogue military soldier previously recorded as deceased!) to uncovering the conspiracy entangling them all.
there's a lot of things bad about die hard 2 (the unoriginal, rehashed script; the tacky and poorly written mcclane one-liners; the frustratingly convenient discovery of marvin's walkie-talkie that is tuned in exactly, among the million possible combinations, to the bad guys' channel) but the above scene strikes me as the worst. fax machines were not widely used until the late 1980s, and due to die hard 2's theatrical release in 1990, the particular scene above was filmed exactly at the same time. and one imagines the credited writing team sitting in a room, finding ways to incorporate sgt. powell and mcclane's undying sexual appeal, and seeing the eyes go bright, and the mouth open, saying "FAXES! We need to incorporate this new technology!" and i want to scream back to say what an idiotic idea this is, incorporating needlessly something temporary and now-outdated, not even twenty years later.
but this is too easy, which is exactly my point. to look back with the benefit and wisdom of hindsight has its values, but the hindsight ultimately desired would be at the last intake of breath before the body goes limp and the brain ceases its waves. so what feels important and crucial now, the decisions made now, and how righteous the feelings around them, is that all building towards some knowledge gained at the exact point it becomes useless? where is the meaning in that? how can one ever proclaim they've no regrets? and how does one reconcile this without becoming resigned? to feel that we matter, to truly believe that we matter (and we do, or at least we should); to acknowledge our failings, revel in our successes; to find satisfaction among all the moving targets; where does that get us when john mcclane, somehow always right in the moment, won't ever die? and yet, here we are with ours, six-sided, blowing one last time, hoping against all odds that we will become in this instant the person we want to be.
is there a way to ascribe meaning to any of this? because what feels new and real and important today, the actions we make based on that, where does that lead us tomorrow?
i keep returning to this scene in die hard 2: sgt. al powell, taking a break from taping family matters, makes a cameo to fax from los angeles fingerprints to john mcclane at the dulles international airport in washington, d.c. mcclane, as i recall, busy accepting "ravish me" eyes from the female airport staff member allowing him use of the telephone, is amazed and shocked at the facsimile. and thankfully for his wife and others circling in the air above, running low on jet fuel, the fax is the first clue (the fingerprints are of a rogue military soldier previously recorded as deceased!) to uncovering the conspiracy entangling them all.
there's a lot of things bad about die hard 2 (the unoriginal, rehashed script; the tacky and poorly written mcclane one-liners; the frustratingly convenient discovery of marvin's walkie-talkie that is tuned in exactly, among the million possible combinations, to the bad guys' channel) but the above scene strikes me as the worst. fax machines were not widely used until the late 1980s, and due to die hard 2's theatrical release in 1990, the particular scene above was filmed exactly at the same time. and one imagines the credited writing team sitting in a room, finding ways to incorporate sgt. powell and mcclane's undying sexual appeal, and seeing the eyes go bright, and the mouth open, saying "FAXES! We need to incorporate this new technology!" and i want to scream back to say what an idiotic idea this is, incorporating needlessly something temporary and now-outdated, not even twenty years later.
but this is too easy, which is exactly my point. to look back with the benefit and wisdom of hindsight has its values, but the hindsight ultimately desired would be at the last intake of breath before the body goes limp and the brain ceases its waves. so what feels important and crucial now, the decisions made now, and how righteous the feelings around them, is that all building towards some knowledge gained at the exact point it becomes useless? where is the meaning in that? how can one ever proclaim they've no regrets? and how does one reconcile this without becoming resigned? to feel that we matter, to truly believe that we matter (and we do, or at least we should); to acknowledge our failings, revel in our successes; to find satisfaction among all the moving targets; where does that get us when john mcclane, somehow always right in the moment, won't ever die? and yet, here we are with ours, six-sided, blowing one last time, hoping against all odds that we will become in this instant the person we want to be.