Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of December 24, 2017
• Soren Kierkgaard said, “People understand me so poorly that they don’t even understand my complaint about them not understanding me.” Bro, I feel you, really. I understand.
The Thrill of Cannons and My American Male Lizard Brain
I’m a child of the ‘80s. I grew up during the Cold War in the warm embrace of America’s beautifully violent and heroic narrative. Schwarzenegger, Stallone, Willis, He-Man… I used to think that Batman was a pussy because he wore kevlar. Rambo essentially rewrote history by winning the Vietnam War shirtless. And he blew up a helicopter gun ship with a bow and arrow. But I always knew this was bullshit. Hollywood. I may have fantasized about saving my school or my family or an office building from terrorists with weapons but I always knew that actually doing so was pure imagination.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?