The Devil Smokes Dunhill
Foreground
Belzebub, the unholy Goat, is a real Cow
In my world everyone is a pony, and they all eat rainbows, and poop butterflies.- Katie, from Horton Hears a Who!
God? Are you there? I’m kind’ve worried how things are going for me right now. At work in particular, but also the rest of the world. I’m kind’ve worried the rest of the world is not doing so well right now. God? You there?
There is a lesson in all this madness, I know there is. I’m pretty sure there is. And I think it has something to do with the fact that I often use movie elements to support real life arguments. Because it is a distraction, isn’t it? It is losing focus on the actual problem by referring endlessly to analogies. You don’t solve anything simply by describing it better, do you? You don’t deal with rehality by rehearsing and rehashing various fictions. Soaps and sit-coms aren’t going to solve global warming, just how much we’re worried about it.
Maybe God has had enough of my (and your) Disturbia and has manufactured an elaborate scheme to bring me (us?) back down to Earth. Er…God, if you’re listening: I realise I’m on Earth. Could you please go easy on the ‘hell on Earth’ part? I think I may have earned some Heaven. God? Are you there?
I don’t even know if I believe in God. Seriously. I did once, you know. Now, I guess what I believe is…well, here’s a summary from the movie CONTACT:
Ellie Arroway: So what's more likely? That an all-powerful, mysterious God created the Universe, and decided not to give any proof of his existence? Or, that He simply doesn't exist at all, and that we created Him, so that we wouldn't have to feel so small and alone?
I hope you don’t mind me diving into my movie mind space. I tend to do that a lot. You should also know I’m from a pretty dysfunctional family, but movies have helped me to appear pretty normal to the outside world. How’m I doing so far?
Because for a long time I have been feeling small and alone, and I’ve had to appear normal nonetheless. Appearance is big in the 21st century. How things look. But how things look and how they are are sometimes world’s apart, aren’t they? It’s not only true of ourselves, but true also – often even more so – in others.
I had a strange, powerful realization recently. There is a reason most of us are fascinated by comic book superheroes. It’s because we like the idea of a young person living his life, asserting his power and authority on a world that can be intimidating, and often, unfair. (Yes, we’re also fascinated by female superheroes for the same reason).
I am writing this book because sometimes, often, a young person who is motivated to perform, to better himself, is sometimes, often, frustrated not just by bad luck, or circumstance, or some personal deficit, but by a person. Sometimes that person is ourselves. Michael Jackson would know, so would Homer Simpson. But sometimes that one person is someone other than ourselves flushing away a person’s dreams. Think of God and the Devil, Cane and Abel, Delilah and Samson, Brutus and Caesar, Judah and Jesus, Joan of Ark and the Bishop, John F. Kennedy and whomever killed him, Al Gore and George Bush, Madonna and her husband, and the plethora of ordinary murderers out there who wipe out lives and dreams with the movement of the index finger on a trigger. In all of those cases, someone either died or surfaced on the other end barely alive or badly beaten. We can rationalize some of those losses, but sometimes they are profound. Of course, when someone dies it is hard to be philosophical if you’re the one that’s dead.
Are we living out the Agent Smith-Neo/God versus the Devil (but essentially one and the same) dual in our everyday lives? It’s certainly felt that way to me. But I don’t want my life to be a metaphor of some Cosmic Significance. I just want to make a name for myself as a writer, go to the Ironman world champs in Hawaii, and settle down with my girl and live happily ever after. Is that too much to ask? Is it? Because right now it seems that way. With the world going to Hell, and the Devil herself, making an everyday appearance as my boss, Esther Spynful, I’m not particularly hopeful of either my or our collective prospects. I know, I know. You think I’m being negative. I’m just getting started.