(no subject)
Well, just saw Waltz with Bashir, and I’m stewing in my misanthropic juices right now. Not at the filmmaker or anything, it was a powerful movie that makes people vulnerable to (hopefully) catch them in a life-altering revelatory moment, which is quite ambitious. The animation was not wholly necessary; I think it could have survived as a simple documentary - but I can see the use of it - to endear foreigners who are otherwise looking at yet another round of poor looking overseas people caught in a war. It was a good film to show people, and though the filmmaker’s intentions behind it do not make themselves completely clear, it was a brave thing to put forth, considering. Also quite timely, what with the current fucking situation in Gaza (and elsewhere, no? Always elsewhere.)
Which is where we come to the misanthropism. The idea that one has to see something as a soundbyte to care, and even then, it comes up and fades away into the distance like a wave. Because after all, there’s just far too much to care about, and caring about things isn’t cool anyway, eh? En vogue is tl;dr. Ah, the camaraderie in being too lazy to have done something. We know fucking terrible things are happening everywhere, but caring about them all would drive us crazy, so we “can’t” or “shouldn’t” do it, which then somehow physically commutes to we “don’t” do it. From the large scale massacres to the small scale petty bullshit. For me that never happens, and fuck feeling peer-based shame for it. Fuck that shit. Staying constructive, trying to keep focus on the things one can accomplish instead is NOT equivalent to simply forgetting or undermining everything one feels powerless about. That’s just denial of awareness, of information. And all information is worth having. This is a good part of why shit’s not getting fucking done in this world.
That’s fine, they say. Keep being fucking gloomy and unhappy then. We’ll go play over here and point and laugh, act as the new educated class and twist logic for sport. We make a fine and consecrated art of missing the point. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.
(There’s such a huge fashion for not caring now that I’m surprised at this: who fucking cares who is without sin? What’s the sense in paralyzing ourselves?)
The sad thing is, I know there are people out there who aren’t just needlessly stupid and cruel. Even some dedicated against it. A great many people who care beyond their small circle, who care beyond the most pressing, the most significant, who want to repair things and improve things, but it’s so swallowed up nowadays that sometimes it seems meaningless to mention them. It’s not just a shitty story now; they’re portrayed as the enemy.
One of the things that stood out was that the soldiers at the time were portrayed as never knowing what was going on. On some level or another, it’s true everywhere (War is so terribly inefficient, on top of everything). Even those with enough power to need to know everything about what they’re doing…they don’t. And it trickles down through those with less and less power, all with the need for this to be okay. And ignorance really becomes bliss, even for those who profess to fight it.
I’m angry at the large scale of it, and I’m angry at the small scale of it.
So I’ll go back where I can pretend to have power, where I can pretend to wield it for good. Back to fancies, cute games, lovely music, pretty pictures, sweet dollies, sanguine stories, happy comments. Because they do make me happy momentarily. Rather than making me forget, they make me remember that all is not void, at least here in my flawed human mind. Back to taking care of myself in this devastated place. I can create, or I can rage ineffectually to a world that’s taught itself to ignore, and blot myself out.
It really makes sense that I can’t idolize a person.