A Good Place to Lie

A_Span is an allusion, a pointing to the possibility of becoming a better self. A nod, a tilt in the direction of self-improvement, at least. A_Span also be some grumpy, so it could be that pursuit has turned out to be more illusory than not.

The tag line for the general heading which this, and most all other, posts lies under is "A_Span has opinions, and is about to share some..." There was some idea in the beginning, and some increasingly more tepid and wan hopes in the meantime, that posts would be many, and quite distinguishable in type, purpose, content, etc. Disappointment, confusion and chagrin as to the divergence between intention and outcome has drifted over to some sense of curiousity.

Given the fact that almost all of the content has been shoved into one room, as it were, is it possible that out there, in the other rooms so-called, there could be a bit more space? If they are not load-bearing walls, perhaps we'll just knock 'em down and, and, and build some tables instead. Tables is going a bit far. Horizontal surfaces. Places to put things until one can figure out where they go.

Musing about the allusion to this post when writing the last one -- it's probably not so much death that is fascinating as what happens afterwards. The prospect of physical death is terrifying so not going to go there. But what about judgement? and memory? Those are some things that do fascinate me, probably to some detriment.

I'm not particularly soothed by the beliefs about the afterlife I was raised with, but I doubt they will ever entirely leave me. Visit a cathedral, find the votive candles, light one or two. (It doesn't count as prayer any more than the string of expletives/mantra of penitent chagrin and self-pity I must engage in to ward off any blue light in the rearview mirror until I can breathe a sigh of relief and sin no more.) But I don't want to forget some people and it's a way to remind myself that I haven't, and I won't.

I know I'm not destined for a particularly good afterlife. I'm too wishy-washy in this one. I have lots of opinions but I've not been thrilled to share them. (It used to bother me alot if Z_Span might mention to someone how I liked or, more typically, did not like, absolutely hated such and such a book or movie. But don't tell her I said that.) I'm not chary with my opinions, per se, but, in general, I'd rather not have my assessments critiqued. Perhaps because they tend towards the "I won't read it or watch it because I already know I hate it." It's a fairly simple case of closed-mindedness.

It's only been in the past couple of years that it is easier for me to fall asleep at night. Over the years I've listened to various things to fall asleep to. Awhile back it was a recording of a funeral scene in a novel that I had asked n-Span to read for me. Sometimes it's choral music of the 17th and 18th centuries. I don't know what it's about, but I can be confident death is right up there. Mostly it's just music, but lately, it's been a tv show. Or whatever the hell a show is that one can watch on their phone. Repeatedly. At the point of trying to fall asleep though, I'm not watching The Good Place, I'm just listening to it.

I love this show. I have a very difficult time not forcing other people to watch it with me. But other than EmmyBee, I haven't, although I provide long and convoluted and entirely insipid re-tellings of various scenes to others if I feel a) there is some tangential reference which I can say reminds me of ____ and b) enough time has passed since the last time I was similarly inspired.

It taps into my greater fears that someone is indeed keeping score and inspires me to think in long discursive sentences about, ah, I'm drifting into the waters of allusion and would-be jokes. Relying on allusions for humour is age-old, and I simply like the way the show's writers pull it off. I like the ways it has made me think about identity and context, the good and the bad. I could link to some clips, but I don't have the time to spend watching them right now. I know it will make me wince later on to think of how much I loved this show and that whatever the next episodes do, I won't be so transfixed.

But for now, in the present, it's not unlike the feeling one might get thinking about baby kangaroos sleeping... ok-ok, I'll stop.

  Last modified: Aug 24, 2017 @ 2:52 pm

Comments are closed.