System Overload

I don’t like running in populated areas. I’m paranoid that people I pass are thinking “you’d think she’d be thinner with all that running” or “what an un-co!” While I don’t think I’m fat or uncoordinated, I hate being an object of people’s judgement or entertainment for even a few seconds. People should not be objectified unwillingly. You might object that, say, a stand-up comedian is objectified in a similar way. However, performers become objects voluntarily, ergo, a stand-up comedian may be objectified, without me being wrong. You might object that I do, willingly, allow myself to become an object by running when I know people will look at me, so I am a counterexample to my own claim.

My reply to that is a revaluation and transformation of my claim “People should not be objectified unwillingly” to the stronger “People should not be made objects of even when they do so willingly and even when other aspects of the person are held in the background but still appreciated.” This is fairly controversial, because it means we should reconsider the way we view performers, or even when a friend speaks to us. So do we really fully appreciate and honour the person when we listen or are just treating her as an amusing talking-box that stimulates us because we can’t predict her response? I suspect we objectify even our nearest and dearest all the time.

At least two people think that Napoleon Dynamite has no plot. However, I regard a “plot” (in the narrow sense) as a predictable, redundant, hackneyed, manufactured literary convention, contrived by the dominant imperialist, patriarchal, Eurocentric, parochial ideology.

Please, no labels. (We know what happens when that happens)

Seriously, though, there are plenty of popular or acclaimed texts that don’t adhere to the narrow sense of “plot”. Girl With A Pearl Earring is one and most of Ian McEwan’s novels don’t have “plots”. Well, they do have plots (broad sense). GWAPE’s plot runs thusly: poor, pretty girl gets work at Vermeer’s house. She likes to paint and admires, but is afraid of Vermeer. Butcher’s boy fancies her. The house of Vermeer is trapped in the web of the commissioner, in the same way that the girl is powerless and vulnerable to Vermeer and the household. Vermeer has girl to be his assistant and there is sizzling sexual tension. Vermeer’s wife is jealous. Other stuff happens.

Sure, it doesn’t follow the convention of saftey-predicament-climax-denoument with the conventional pacing, but it still contains sub climaxes and effectively demonstrates important themes. After all, isn’t that is what a story is supposed to do? Furthermore, it may be the case that the “plot” is hidden in the plot, to be identified by the more astute viewer.

You might argue that without a “plot” (narrow sense) a story is uninteresting. However, if a movie has to rely on a plot to keep the audience interested, I think it fails. Or maybe it’s just that I love visually rich movies and value themes over “plot”.

Grrr. I have too much in my system. I think I need to go write a book. In fact, I already do have one planned to write this summer, title too telling to be released yet. I also wish to write a short story called “Grigor Watt’s Interlocker” which will be about philosophy.

Later on today, Von and I will, God willing, check out Tracey’s flat. Then I’ll go to Scots. I hope Ben Pharlet is speaking. He is like a theologically orthodox Michael Frost who doesn’t retell his stories. [Whom have I damned with faint praise and praised with faint damnation?]

My favourite song at the moment is from Nick Cave's Lyre of Orpheus Album, track 2. The song is so good I want to eat it.

Today’s wacky question is: If you were a member of the opposite sex, would you be good looking, given how you look now?