Children of
I never have been able to stay away from the big topics. Last year I worked 3/4’s of it in relative solitude, toiling along on a graveyard post.
The silence of the job in the hours between 2a and 5a creates a perfect time in which to delve into the long topics of existence. I don’t know what I did more in 2006 that could be deemed worthwhile than to debate the existence of God.
It’s a simple umbrella concept pondering everything in life.
How are we here?
Why are we here, and more personal, how and why am I here in the exact moment at any given time?
If there is a God, what are we to do? If not, what are we supposed to do with a collection of 50 or so years of personal will?
The meaning of life, in its most basic terms is to reproduce. Save for the Giant Panda, it’s something that comes remarkably easy to all species on Earth.
The dilemma comes with the rest of the time given, and for those handful of species with a minor notion of self, the most frequent act is violence.
It’s the one thing animal life is good at. Perhaps the reason that humans sit on the throne of dominance of the kingdom is because we excel at violence where others use it as a tool of survival. On this scale, the greatest achievement of all life would be the nuke. It’s the one item in the world that wields true power.
As Frank Herbert wrote in Dune: He who has the power to destroy something controls it completely.
With the novel it concerned the mythical spice of the planet Arrakis; in our world, the nuke represents life itself. If humans can end life all together, we rule Earth.
Which comes to the climatic scene of Children of Men where the pastime of life is triumphed by the meaning of it; the walk in the film renders those who exist in it to beautiful souls, who for 18 years knew nothing more than violence, suddenly to be reminded of the sole reason we are here.
The beauty of the scene from an artistic standpoint is not the triumph of life, but the notion of how fleeting this power is, and the moment when meaning gives way to violence is perfectly timed.
It’s hard to note any work so highly on original impressions, for the test is always time.
But I thought one thing above all others during this scene which came at the end of the most compelling film I saw all year.
Children of Men is the best film I have seen this decade, and the first film since Saving Private Ryan that rendered me static once I got into my car. I sat for a good minute before I could even turn the key.
The greatest feeling in the world is inspiration. Not the impetus kind, but the feeling that reminds you, even in a movie as dystopic as Children of Men- and perhaps because of it- why it’s good be alive
The silence of the job in the hours between 2a and 5a creates a perfect time in which to delve into the long topics of existence. I don’t know what I did more in 2006 that could be deemed worthwhile than to debate the existence of God.
It’s a simple umbrella concept pondering everything in life.
How are we here?
Why are we here, and more personal, how and why am I here in the exact moment at any given time?
If there is a God, what are we to do? If not, what are we supposed to do with a collection of 50 or so years of personal will?
The meaning of life, in its most basic terms is to reproduce. Save for the Giant Panda, it’s something that comes remarkably easy to all species on Earth.
The dilemma comes with the rest of the time given, and for those handful of species with a minor notion of self, the most frequent act is violence.
It’s the one thing animal life is good at. Perhaps the reason that humans sit on the throne of dominance of the kingdom is because we excel at violence where others use it as a tool of survival. On this scale, the greatest achievement of all life would be the nuke. It’s the one item in the world that wields true power.
As Frank Herbert wrote in Dune: He who has the power to destroy something controls it completely.
With the novel it concerned the mythical spice of the planet Arrakis; in our world, the nuke represents life itself. If humans can end life all together, we rule Earth.
Which comes to the climatic scene of Children of Men where the pastime of life is triumphed by the meaning of it; the walk in the film renders those who exist in it to beautiful souls, who for 18 years knew nothing more than violence, suddenly to be reminded of the sole reason we are here.
The beauty of the scene from an artistic standpoint is not the triumph of life, but the notion of how fleeting this power is, and the moment when meaning gives way to violence is perfectly timed.
It’s hard to note any work so highly on original impressions, for the test is always time.
But I thought one thing above all others during this scene which came at the end of the most compelling film I saw all year.
Children of Men is the best film I have seen this decade, and the first film since Saving Private Ryan that rendered me static once I got into my car. I sat for a good minute before I could even turn the key.
The greatest feeling in the world is inspiration. Not the impetus kind, but the feeling that reminds you, even in a movie as dystopic as Children of Men- and perhaps because of it- why it’s good be alive
posted by Indiana at
1:06 AM
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