Movie Monologue #2

V for Vendetta
"V" (Hugo Weaving)

"Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V"

Movie Monologue #1

Ever wondered why movies make you laugh? Cry? Rile you up? Provoke thought & reflection? Look around you the next time you stick your hands into pop-corn. Notice the muted whispers that compete against silence. The enveloping dark as the screen unfolds. You’ll realize how you choose for your mind to block out, to not need or want to process the peeving sights or sounds outside of the moment. Your thoughts and senses are so focused and tuned into that giant screen and that ass-kicking THX audio system that your mind makes you believe that you ARE in the movie. (See? Note the relationship between your senses and the environment :) ) How we can engage and listen so easily and readily when our senses are placated by order.

So indulge me while I borrow and pay tribute to genius by documenting those epic episodes that have jolted my emotional reserves and inspired me to think outside of my daily existence. A salutation of sorts, for granting me the confidence and respect for my fellow man who have cleverly transposed thought to paper, and to remarkable speech and gesture from another. If greed and ambition are driving Hollywood, then by golly let the powers that be continue stoking the ambers of lust for as long as the sun shines.

Here’s hoping that these monologues will never see their final curtains.

Reservoir Dogs
Mr. Brown (Quentin Tarantino)

"Let me tell you what Like a Virgin's about. It's all about a girl who digs a guy with a big dick. The entire song . . . it's a metaphor for big dicks. Like a Virgin's not about some sensitive girl who meets a nice fella. That's what True Blue's about. Granted, no argument about that. Ok. Let me tell you what Like a Virgin's about. It's all about this cooz who's a regular fuck machine. I'm talking morning, day, night, afternoon . . . dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick. Then one day she meets this John Holmes motherfucker, and it's like, whoa baby. This cat is like Charles Bronson in the great escape. He's digging tunnels. She's getting this serious dick action and feeling something she ain't felt since forever . . . pain. Pain. It hurts. It hurts her. It shouldn't hurt her. Her pussy should be bubbleyum by now, but when this cat fucks her, it hurts. It hurts just like it did the first time. You see, the pain is reminding a fuck machine what it was like to be a virgin. Hence . . . Like a Virgin."

Do you see what I see?

Ever stop to think of what a blind man sees? Or what a mute wants to say? Or how deafening a deaf girl's thoughts are? Or what a limbless person wants to physically accomplish?

While most of us are privileged to be born equipped with the 5 senses, we never make the attempt to understand what they mean to us, and how they contribute to our psyche and our mental and spiritual constitution. We fail to optimize these gifts even through their simple and regular use, what more honing them. I hear comments like “Are you blind?”, “You deaf?”, “Why don’t you listen..” (etc) flung around innocently yet appearing to be insensitively mocking in tone on a daily basis. Why? Because to a large extent, we actually are. Guilty as charged.

There is no doubt that despite our prejudices, our interaction with others contributes to life lessons that help us grow. But how willing are we to listen? To learn? How fast do we grow? Have we cruised through life at its minimum required constant speed, or have we lagged?

If we were given one (or a few) less sense(s) to live with, we would be desensitized somewhat, and be less byzantine. We would instead even possibly excel in engaging in one certain other God-given sense. Communication activity between our brain and our nervous system would be less cluttered and more focused on synaptic transmission generated from the residual senses. Our thought processes less distracted and more centered. The absence of an object of reliance frees and dedicates neural resource to the less that we have. We become more attuned to our environment and more responsive on how we choose to interact with it. We will be able to see the beauty within life itself and within the people that we share our lives with, not be hampered by complexity, and be blind to hate and prejudice.

Maybe this is why and how some folk actually develop ESP. How some display intuitive capabilities that we label as magic or worse, devil worship, because it defies our limited logic. Because our logic, which in itself cries arrogance, is 'man' made and is highly and grossly fallible by divine measure or some higher alien life-form standard. We thump our chests and think we see all, we hear all, we know all. But are we really equipped and born capable enough to see the real green mass that we believe to be the forest instead of the trees?

Kids, for example, are gifted with more simple thought processes by virtue of time, but many have been scientifically tested to be able to sense the spiritual, despite our ridicule that we charge them with as a result of our ignorance. This begets the question of who really are their imaginary friends. Because of and despite our adult wisdom and so-called 'oneness' with life, we will never be able to see what they do. Perhaps we need to be more respectful and cautiously take heed of what we do not understand before we decide to shrug off their 'childish nonsense' the next time.

So. Are we cursed? Or blessed? Is being normal a handicap?

Well, I for one am convinced that despite our sensory shortcomings, we are adequate. And we really should be grateful for the squinty eyes, the misshaped nose, the ten stubby fingers and toes that we were born with. We would be at the bottom of the food chain and fighting against protozoa for oxygen if not (and I certainly wouldn't be ranting like the crazed ol' coot that I can be). Life was meant to be a challenge and most of us are all playing on a level field armed with the same tools and equipment (with the occasional exception of Mr Peter North and his ilk). The rules of engagement have just been designed the way that they are. In the final analysis, we will be judged on the choices that we have made, and we will not be able to put it down to being physically handicapped when our scorecards reflect how morally challenged we have been instead.

So keep the kitchen knife where it belongs and do not be encouraged to rip out your eyes or cut-off your tongue. Yet. Just laying out some finger food on the thought platter…