September 29, 2017

From summer

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , at 1:01 am by chavisory

IMG_2531From the Walkway Over the Hudson in Poughkeepsie, NY, end of the summer.

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September 12, 2017

Disappointment

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , , at 9:37 pm by chavisory

A friend of mine not long ago strongly recommended the television show True Detective to me (and I’d acquired HBONow recently for purposes of playing Game of Thrones catch-up), and that is how I came to be watching it one evening last week, as it happened, right when I learned from Twitter that Matthew McConaughey had partnered with Autism Speaks and Kiehl’s on a new autism awareness campaign.

It was an especially bitter moment of irony, but sadly not an unfamiliar one.

One of the hard things about learning to let yourself love things unreservedly again when you’ve quashed that instinct in yourself for much of your life—beyond the fear that it’ll be too much, that an obsession will consume you in a way you can’t sustain, that it’ll be off-putting to other people if you let it show, or that you’ll burn out your capacity for that kind of love—is that, with a not-insignificant frequency, an artist you really, really like and respect turns out to think people like you shouldn’t really be here.

It’s a difficult risk to contend with, when you’ve only just relatively recently learned to let go and let yourself fall in love again after so long, that every now and then, you’re going to be really into something or really intensely identify with a body of work (when that’s kind of a rare experience for us to begin with), and then wake up one morning to find that that creator thinks the world would be better off without you.

It makes it hard to let yourself enjoy something wholeheartedly, when you know you have to guard your heart against this possibility.

It affects what and how much I can let a thing mean to me once I know.

And it most definitely negatively affects my willingness to pay to see that artist’s work in the future.

Even beyond the fact of channeling huge amounts of money to an organization that’s been pretty useless at best and actively dangerous, at worst, to the very community it claims to speak for, this is the harm that it does to us, individually. We’re people built for overwhelming, obsessive joy, but it’s vulnerable to put yourself at the mercy of that passion and then have your trust in it smashed like that every now and then.

Maybe it seems like a small thing, comparatively, held up against all the things we struggle with. But it happens over and over and over again, and it takes a psychic toll over time. When you always have to be a little bit paranoid that this is how your enjoyment will be answered.

I don’t expect artists to be perfect people with wholly unproblematic views any more than I expect that from anyone else, and it’s not that I think autistic people uniquely should (or, realistically, could) be shielded from disappointment by public figures and celebrities, or that basically decent people can’t sincerely have different opinions about ethical matters. But, man…I really wish that more of them would do their research and search their own hearts and maybe, maybe, not put us in this position so damn often when choosing causes or charities to conspicuously support.

That’s all.

September 4, 2017

Fix your hearts or die

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , at 8:39 pm by chavisory

This post contains SPOILERS for episode 18 of Twin Peaks: The Return.

It occurred to me, as I was looking for a RedBubble artist who might put this motto on a t-shirt or sticker for me, that, to the extent that this show could be said to have a thesis or a moral in any coherent sense, this might well be it.

“Fix your hearts or die,” we’re initially told is what FBI Director Gordon Cole said to his skeptical colleagues upon Agent Denise Bryson’s decision to live openly as a transgender woman, but throughout this season of Twin Peaks:  The Return, we see this warning play out in the lives of other characters and in the world of Twin Peaks as a whole.

Nadine fixed her heart, deciding she was capable of finding joy apart from maintaining her control of Ed and giving Ed and Norma their freedom to pursue true happiness together.

Ben Horne has fixed his heart.  We last see him at the end of season 2 bemoaning that he’s only ever wanted to do good, to be good, and at long last he seems to have mostly figured it out, though it clearly hasn’t been an easy endeavor for him.

Bobby Briggs has fixed his heart.  We’ve seen him capable of such impulsive malevolence and recklessness in his younger days, and such goodness, joy, competence, and responsibility more recently.  Bobby has individually embodied many of the dualities of Twin Peaks that most of its characters seem to sit on one side or the other of.  It hasn’t been easy on him, either.  He knows what it is to do both good and evil, more than maybe any other character in this world.

Whereas many of the characters who’ve met nasty ends, or seem to be hurtling towards them, or who cause the destruction of others, are those who would not fix their hearts.  Steven.  Richard.  Ray.  The “truck you” guy.

Becky is learning, maybe, that you can’t fix the hearts of others.  Only your own.

We can’t undo the catastrophic vulnerability, the moral damage to the fabric of the world itself done by something like the advent of the atomic bomb.  But we can work to fix the corruption of our own hearts, the juxtaposition of the overwhelming scale of the sin of Trinity and Hiroshima and Nagasaki with the more pedestrian struggles of the characters to make their own lives bearable seems to say.  We can’t always help what happens to us, what is done to us, but we have a choice about whether to follow that darkness into the future.

Will Sarah Palmer be able to fix her broken heart, or will the darkness we saw behind her face consume her totally?  Is there damage to the human heart that can’t be fixed?

I wrote a lot of this before I watched last night’s two-part finale–and as I watched Cooper find Laura in the forest and take her hand, I felt not relief or hope, but a mounting dread.  It mounted as Coop and Diane drove over the dimensional border, down that dark highway, and into Odessa.  This wasn’t Bad Cooper, but previously, I think we’ve only seen Bad Cooper driving into darkness this way.

dark road

He was choosing wrong.  Everything about the recurring visual language here tells us that Coop is making a horrible mistake, even in his determination to do good.  He’s trying to undo what has been done, to turn back the consequences of undeniable evil, rather than to carry those lessons into the future.

I do think it’s interesting that I’ve felt differently about other stories involving timeline revision before, and I don’t know what to say exactly other than that the worlds of Doctor Who and Twin Peaks are not the same and don’t work in exactly the same way.  Amy’s story isn’t Laura’s, Audrey’s, or Cooper’s.  In this one, a timeline can only be healed by reckoning fully with grief and guilt.  And the characters we’ve seen turn out for the better are the ones–notably Bobby–who have done that within their own stories.

Looking back, appropriately enough, it was Bobby who back in the very first season took the entire town of Twin Peaks to task at Laura’s funeral for its denizens’ complicity in her death, for refusing to acknowledge what was going on in front of their eyes all along.  “Everybody knew she was in trouble, but we didn’t do anything.  All you good people.  You want to know who killed Laura?  We all did.”

Laura can’t simply not die, and everyone involved not have to fix their hearts.

(Furthermore, if the events of seasons 1 and 2 catalyzed by Laura’s death didn’t play out, then BOB is still loose in the world, not banished back to the Black Lodge.)

We cannot go back on what we’ve done without compounding destruction and chaos.  Only forward, if we dare to fix our hearts.