My response to a Wall Street Journal op-ed piece comparing the appeal of "The Dark Knight" to George W. Bush

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB121694247343482821.html?mod=opinion_main_commentaries


The appeal of films like "The Dark Knight" (and "300") is simple -- literally: they are simple.

The world they depict is one of simple stark contrasts: good guy vs. bad guy, a moral code vs. anarchy; inner fortitude vs. concupiscent abandon. They are popular with a broad swath of Americans for the same reason that John Wayne, "pro wrestling" and Rush Limbaugh are. And why Christians gravitate toward the cut and dry rules of the Old Testament instead of the subtle self-awareness that Jesus himself preached.

A lot of Americans -- maybe the majority -- like things simple and easy. The worldview the dry-drunk George W. Bush offers ("you are either with us or against us", there is no appeasement with those we label our enemies or even recognition of their human equality to us, the comforting "American Ascendancy" that Rush conjures up) is easier to think about than the more demanding worldview that Barak Obama admits we need to embrace (all other nations and people are no lesser than us, the developing global interconnectedness demands we understand and appreciate the tenuousness of America's position and the real long-range effects of our actions).

"The Dark Knight" and "The Axis of Evil" are like comfort foods. Easily eaten, yes. The wisest choice to properly take care of our lives, no.

Today is my birthday

Today is my birthday - I think actually a little past noon on Saturday, July 21, 1962. I was two weeks overdue: another day and the doctors were planning to induced labor. (Another argument for "karmic tendencies" -- I didn't even want to leave the womb, lol).

I actually have 3 birthdays: today, July 21; July 24, the anniversary of my traveling to New York City three days after my 20th birthday, where I received my Gohonzon and officially became a Buddhist; and now the anniversary of my quadruple bypass surgery on April 18, 2007.


Anyway, I was just biking home, from my parents' house in which I grew up in Kenmore; I dropped off my new van at my mechanic's near them to do a tune-up (hopefully that is where the misfiring and blinking "Service Engine Soon" light is coming from, and not anything deeper), and had biked over there (I can stow my bike in the back if my new van - standing up!), and they took me to breakfast. Now just waiting for the call from my mechanic that he is done so I can bike back up there.


Anyway anyway --

I am biking down "The Horsepath", that half-road down Kenmore between Wilbur and Military -- now paved, but still closed to cars except for residents pulling in to park in their driveways. I used to bike it all the time, then gravel and old asphalt, when I was in late elementary school and junior high school.

As I was biking down it today, I passed a man trudging along it. A man - chubby and bearded, about 30, already a bit worn from life.

And I thought: "The last time I biked here, you weren't even born..."

Wow! Just crazy, when you think about life, sometimes.

Going shirtless in public

For the first time since my surgery, today I was bold enough to take my shirt off in public, exposing my scars to the healing sun and healthy air.

Soon after I started what turned into a 2-1/2 hour bike ride, I stopped, removed my shirt, and wrapped it securely around the crossbar.

Now, it is extremely rare for me to expose my blobby, gynecomastic, worm-white torso as it is... but now I have this long wide scar, still half-red, striping down my chest -- and not only that, but three irregular clusters of scars belong it, where they thoughtlessly cut me open to insert thick drainage tubes during the surgery.

There was a moment shortly after as I moved on, exposed, where I felt I touched heaven - or perhaps a Buddhist phrase might be felt the Ninth Consciousness. I do not even remember what song was playing on my iPod, but I do remember glancing down at my shadow (my head's shadow irregular from my helmet) as I biked along the Riverwalk.

Even the biking was wonderful!! -- I had just had my bike repaired, and decided to get a full tune-up and new pedals with plastic toe-holders -- it is like riding a whole new bike!! It feels like I get about 40% more effiency. Really!

I was proud to show off my body, my scars. A couple women even gave me wan unsure smiles as I rode by.

And toward the end, a group of teenagers, mixed boys and girls, laughed and squealed after me. I couldn't make out what they were saying (The Go-Go's defiant "Our Lips are Sealed" happened to be shuffled up on my iPod), a couple girls seemed to be yelling "White!" or "Why?!" You know what? I don't give a fuck.


"He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day...
...be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."


When I got home, I weighed myself -- I had lost 3 pounds in dehydration compared to my weight before I ate anything this morning!

And now I am sore, and logey from an hour's nap, and sunburned as my robe rubs my back and shoulders!

It felt so wonderful and liberating -- as liberating as getting a car this week.

Fortune

Sometimes fortune is spotting a dime on the sidewalk and picking it up. Sometimes fortune is spotting that dime on the sidewalk and saying, "I'm doing so well, I don't need to stoop for a dime."