I feel thin, sort of stretched out, like butter scraped over too much bread. Bilbo Baggins used that sentence to describe his own feelings, but I think they would apply just as well to the recent movies that revolve around him. Because honestly, The Hobbit is not suitable for a trilogy. To be fair it has been a while since I watched the first part, and I might remember that wrong. The sequel, however, I have in fresh memory since yesterday evening.
It is incredible. Special effects are masterly done, make up is flawless. Like, flawless – Smaug looks just like a real dragon.
The story drifts away from the book here and there which I think is kind of insulting to the original Hobbit (and also understandable since they probably had to come up with something new to fill three full movies). My favorite of these additions is Tauriel; female superheroes are just simply more badass than male ones.
The nature is stunningly beautiful (I have to go to New Zealand some day), just as in LOTR and the first Hobbit.
And the actors.
Unfortunately, those things are incredible a little too long. The many battle scenes all take the time to show every little detail, so that after a while they all seem the same. The “transportation” parts and a few other scenes take unnecessarily long too, but I didn’t really mind those for some reason. I didn’t mind the battle scenes at first either, but it only takes so long to show that 1) free running is really cool, 2) martial arts and sword play are really cool too and 3) orchs are DISGUSTING.
On second thought, having no purpose also means we are free to do what we want… which is kind of a nice idea. Not mine, unfortunately, but a nice idea indeed.
I never thought I would say this, but… I want a God. Or rather, I want a higher purpose. I want someone or something to assure me that there is a greater plan, that someone will take care of everything, that there is a reason for everything.
Religion doesn’t ask those questions. I do, though, and until The purpose of life is a query properly answered I will continue to wonder.
It all just seem so pointless. Eat and sleep and laugh and cry and get up in the morning and get good grades and get a good job and retire and die and then your kids will do the same thing and their kids will do the same thing. Patterns. Mental slavery. Even if I did do something Great it would be so short, so insignificant in the long run. A blink of the cosmic eye. We don’t matter. The earth will go under, with or without us. There is certainly purpose for doing things in life, for the individual or society or planet or great grandchildren but anything larger than that there is just none.
A biologist would give me the answer that the purpose of life is to spread one’s genome, ensuring the survival of the species. And yes, I assume that is probably it. But WHY? My DNA (which isn’t mine anyway, it’s a gift or curse from my ancestors) will disappear sooner or later no matter what. We destroy the planet in our existence, but does that matter? For whom do we destroy it, other lives? Why do they need to live? Why do we need to live?
I continue to live though. I want to live. I have yet more things I want to do and see and feel, people I want to get to know, people I want to get away from. And I guess life is in itself a purpose, I just don’t see why. It’s the same circle over and over, until there is nothing left.
“People make mistakes. Even the ones we love.”
– Whoever wrote the script to (movie) The last song.
Every now and then my teachers make us watch documentaries for homework. Most recently it was one about “alternative” religions, where they interviewed some guy who converted to Rastafari. Most of what he said sounded ever so slightly insane to me, except for one thing: mental slavery. Being stuck in the same patterns of thinking, unable to see anything except for what your peers tell you. (if that’s what he meant)
It is a very destructive way of thinking. And I don’t think it’s unusual, at all.
Perhaps it is the cause of that feeling, that everything has been said and done already. It hasn’t, obviously, but it feels as if. I mean, there’s no point for me to make a statement against [insert cruel ideology], because everyone has done that already. Those who don’t believe in it wouldn’t listen anyway. Endless battles – ending slavery, right to vote, legalizing gay marriage and on and on – have already been fought. I’m infinitely thankful to those who fought them, but at the same time it would be nice to have started something new, or contributed to something new. Something that actually matters.
So what do we do when we don’t need to fight? Act to please? Show people that we are so kind and open-minded and smart, as if it made us unique?
Like in elementary school, when we were to discuss moral dilemmas. It was really about making us all agree – “it’s OK to have different opinions, as long as we all agree” or whatever. I do agree with the ideas we were given – don’t hurt people, don’t kill people, don’t be mean to people – and I think I would have agreed with them without being taught to. What bugs me is the learning process, and how we were (are) encouraged to question everything except what they tell us.