While on the way to CT for Thanksgiving I had a satori. The question why certain comedians seemed to fit the dramatic acting bill so well never seemed to make sense. It’s the non-thinking moments where the answers present themselves in blinding clarity.

The antithesis. Voila! D’uh. There it sat waiting for its ride to from the right side to the left side of the brain. Artistic folk study the antithesis when working on Shakespeare because he writes so much of it. He rambles on talks about this and that, him and her, should and shouldn’t until the cows come home. If the A can’t be separated enough from the B, neither are important enough to listener and their importance fades off into dream land (or to the grocery list). Poof. End game.

When it is used effectively the listener hears the setup (A) which is followed up by the punch line (B). To use the phrase punch line might make someone think it’s a joke. It’s not. It is what the ear is taking in. If there is no setup and/or a punch line all we hear are words strung together that sound pretty… boring.

That’s right. Boring.

Looking at a good joke the same thing is done. The comedian, the party entertainment, or the damn funny friend will setup their story/joke making sure you hear everything important to the punch line. The joke goes long enough until… WHAM.

It makes sense in my head and I may or may not have summarized the idea thoroughly enough in this brief snippet but I needed to get it out before I forgot because Ive been on the go, go, go. It’s been great!

THWAP! Welcome to the other side of the street.

the fountainThe other night I saw watched experienced The Fountain. I have a new movie to add to my list of favorites. In alphabetical order…

Crimson Tide
Nightmare Before Christmas
The Fountain
The Hunt for Red October
The Iron Giant

I can watch any of these films over and over and over again. The more I think about the Fountain the more I want to read about Death. “OMFG” Yes. I enjoy understanding different perspectives of death. The rituals don’t interest me so much as the sociological study of death.

When was it considered a normal event accepted as a way of life? When did grave markers become important and why? How, when, and why did the afterlife become a part of death? Etc. Death is such a curious topic to me because very few people want to talk about it. Better yet, even fewer are willing to look at their own death.

I’ve written it before and I’ll write it again. The day is the day I die. I am living life to the fullest and do as much to appreciate my life and the world on a daily basis. Will I be afraid? I don’t know. It is possible because I’m one of those ambitious types but I accept that I am going to die. It’s that simple. Science may help to extend and improve my life but we frail powerful beings will all fall to our bodies in due time. Perhaps my great great grand child will live to be 150 or even 200. I will not.

And so, without saying more than a handful of words, I can only praise The Fountain. I wish I could see it again (without the NY movie theatre ticket price). Interestingly enough I did not think about my own death during the film; I thought of emma’s and shook within just as Hugh Jackman did when he sat on the edge of the bed after he left the hospital. The image alone was enough to terrify me. Being alone on a bed meant to be shared by two. )inner shudder( I do not, in any way, look forward to that day.

“Finish it.”