Yogis and granola-eaters the world over have long touted the mind/body connection as the key to health and happiness. I tend to agree with them (I eat a lot of granola myself), but even as I talk the talk, I rarely walk the walk. I take pretty good care of myself physically. I eat a well-balanced diet with lots of organic fruits and vegetables, and I make a point to get regular exercise and adequate sleep. Recently, I even quit smoking and drinking caffeinated beverages. Yet, though my body may be fit as a fiddle, my mind is, metaphorically speaking, sacked out on a moth-eaten sofa, glued to the "glass teat"*, throttling the remote control and eating Krispy Kremes hand over fist, fattening itself on the fruits of stress, anxiety, and workaholism. I don't deny that I am a perfectionist, I take pride in my work, but in recent weeks my anal retention (or "analyzing" as my friend Zoe likes to call it) has driven me to new lows. At the ripe age of 22, I have given myself an ulcer.
Yes, healthy as I am, imagine my surprise when I woke up in the middle of the night a couple weeks ago to a horrific case of heart-burn, on that subsequently did not abate for forty-eight hours. When my doctor told me it was probably caused by stress, I simply could not believe her. "Ulcers are not caused by stress," I whined. And, for the most part, of course, I was right. Doctors now concur that ulcers are caused by bacterial infections in the stomach and esophagus -- but stress helps, nonetheless. Antibiotics are over-prescribed as it is, so if doctors can treat an ulcer by lowering their patients' production of stomach acid and get them to take a chill pill, they will. My doctor gave me a prescription-only antacid and said, "take care of yourself."
Living with an ulcer isn't easy, but it has started to teach me a few things about myself. The human imagination has long equated the digestive tract with personality quirks, ever since the ancients located the spleen as the source of bilious "bad humours." My own life-long inability to belch, a rather genteel handicap which prevents me from expressing my own biliousness may find its parallel in my tendency to suppress my emotions. Springing from this combination of everyday tensions and congenital indigestion, perhaps my ulcer is now pointing the way to a fuller and less stressful existence. I am learning to take things more slowly and to accept moderation, since I am only able to eat several small meals throughout the day. I am also learning to stop depriving myself of the things that I need in order to increase my productivity, since an empty stomach caused my skipping meals is now intensely painful. Drinking, smoking, caffeine, and fatty foods are now absolutely out of the question because all of these aggravate my ulcer, so I'm locked into clean living. And, any and all stress is to be avoided at all cost, which means I'll probably be reading the news less, and doddling more. Expect to expect less of me in the next few weeks as I recharge my batteries, and I will do the same. In the meantime, learn to love your flaws. They love you.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Da Vinci vs. Superman
Warning: The following contains a Jungian analysis of two summer blockbuster films, "The Da Vinci Code" and "Superman Returns," during which the author is required to reveal the films' endings. If surprises are how you get your rocks off, see the movies first before you read this blog post.
I have this half-baked theory I feel compelled to share with my paltry readership, voracious though they may be for more of my witty witticisms. The theory is probably far-fetched, and most definitely heretical if you come from the same stock as most members of Congress, that is, evangelical Christian. But, I urge you, one and all, especially you members of Congress, to stop your money laundering for a moment, set aside that juicy shank of pork-barrel, and hear me out.
The concept hit me like a silver bullet, like a bird dropping, like airplane landing gears hitting pavement, like a wad of gum spat from the luscious lips of Brandon Routh. I had just seen Superman Returns, and though it was possibly the highlight of my movie-going career, the film left me with a strange sense of déjà vu. (And, not because I've seen all four original Superman movies dozens, plus most of the episodes of the old TV series, the "Lois and Clark" series, and a handful of "Smallville" episodes. I also had Superman Under-roos, and I never could forgive my grandmother for ruining my Superman t-shirt in the wash. To say that I'm a fan would be an understatement.) As my readers surely recall, the last film I saw in theaters was The Da Vinci Code, and the more I thought about these two films, the more I realized that I had struck a metaphorical gold mine. My friends, I am here to testify that Superman Returns and The Da Vinci Code are in fact the same movie! No, no, don't go running to the box office demanding a refund. We haven't been snookered, we just got what we asked for. Before I go any further, let's examine the evidence.
Both plots are about "saviors" sent to Earth to redeem mankind with congenital super-powers. The Da Vinci Code swipes its superhero from the pages of the greatest story ever told, giving us Jesus Christ, a man of the people who could, among other things, cure leprocy and walk on water. In Superman Returns, the man of steel describes himself as a savior responding to the cries of the people. Despite their remarkable powers, neither are strictly invincible, whether it be death by crucifixion or kryptonite.
Both saviors are embroiled in sexual scandal. Jesus is suspected of having had an illegitimate child with side-kick Mary Magdalen in The Da Vinci Code, while in Superman Returns Lois Lane bears a child out of wedlock, and through an extraordinary set of circumstances we learn that Superman is the father.
The illegitimate offspring of these superheros are billed as the keys to unlock a brighter future for mankind, continuing the inheritance of superpowers that their savior fathers inherited from their own distant super-fathers. Superman receives his powers from his alien father (played once again by Marlon Brando peering out of a crystal), and it appears that he has passed at least some of his powers onto his son. Jesus gets his abilities from God the Father, and according to the film, passes his royal blood through a secret lineage. On it's face, the creation of a super-race of humans through careful breeding smacks of eugenics, but I think it's probably meant to be a metaphor for the emboldening of the human spirit. I hope.
Without going into all the messianic imagery in both films, I think we've pretty well established the comparison. But, if you're a member of Congress, and even if you're not, you might be thinking to yourself that all this amounts to is worth less than a hill of beans. Then again, if you tend to think like a congressman, you should expect to be wrong. The reason the similarities between these films matter is because it points to the emergence of a new archetypal story, or rather a very old story that is just now attaining prominence in contemporary culture. I like to think of it as a small step for man, and a giant leap for womankind. That's because this new story is really the story of what Dan Brown terms in The Da Vinci Code "the sacred feminine." Notice that the role of women and matrilineage is brought to prominence in the two films. Mary Magdalen is redeemed from her status as whore and elevated to holy grail. Lois Lane is no longer the scrappy muckraker of yore, but is the mother of Superman's progeny, humanity's next great hope, and a Pulitzer Prize-winner to boot. Gone are the distant father-figures peering down from the heavens or staring out at us from alien crystals, the new heros are sensitive family men who prefer to stay close to home. Well, that's the bright-side, anyway. On the other hand, the end of Superman Returns leaves us with the image of Superman flying off into space to go be a hero or sulk in his Fortress of Solitude, leaving his son to be raised by his mother and a surrogate father who can only fly by means of an airplane. Gee, I wonder who that kid will resent more, his impotent step-father his mother never really loved, or his biological father who abandoned him with powers he cannot begin to comprehend. What if this Superboy, filled with anger and resentment toward his father, goes bad, Darth Vader-style? Well, at least the macho men are beginning to admit to their roles as parents, even if they're not actually going to perform them.
I have this half-baked theory I feel compelled to share with my paltry readership, voracious though they may be for more of my witty witticisms. The theory is probably far-fetched, and most definitely heretical if you come from the same stock as most members of Congress, that is, evangelical Christian. But, I urge you, one and all, especially you members of Congress, to stop your money laundering for a moment, set aside that juicy shank of pork-barrel, and hear me out.
The concept hit me like a silver bullet, like a bird dropping, like airplane landing gears hitting pavement, like a wad of gum spat from the luscious lips of Brandon Routh. I had just seen Superman Returns, and though it was possibly the highlight of my movie-going career, the film left me with a strange sense of déjà vu. (And, not because I've seen all four original Superman movies dozens, plus most of the episodes of the old TV series, the "Lois and Clark" series, and a handful of "Smallville" episodes. I also had Superman Under-roos, and I never could forgive my grandmother for ruining my Superman t-shirt in the wash. To say that I'm a fan would be an understatement.) As my readers surely recall, the last film I saw in theaters was The Da Vinci Code, and the more I thought about these two films, the more I realized that I had struck a metaphorical gold mine. My friends, I am here to testify that Superman Returns and The Da Vinci Code are in fact the same movie! No, no, don't go running to the box office demanding a refund. We haven't been snookered, we just got what we asked for. Before I go any further, let's examine the evidence.
Both plots are about "saviors" sent to Earth to redeem mankind with congenital super-powers. The Da Vinci Code swipes its superhero from the pages of the greatest story ever told, giving us Jesus Christ, a man of the people who could, among other things, cure leprocy and walk on water. In Superman Returns, the man of steel describes himself as a savior responding to the cries of the people. Despite their remarkable powers, neither are strictly invincible, whether it be death by crucifixion or kryptonite.
Both saviors are embroiled in sexual scandal. Jesus is suspected of having had an illegitimate child with side-kick Mary Magdalen in The Da Vinci Code, while in Superman Returns Lois Lane bears a child out of wedlock, and through an extraordinary set of circumstances we learn that Superman is the father.
The illegitimate offspring of these superheros are billed as the keys to unlock a brighter future for mankind, continuing the inheritance of superpowers that their savior fathers inherited from their own distant super-fathers. Superman receives his powers from his alien father (played once again by Marlon Brando peering out of a crystal), and it appears that he has passed at least some of his powers onto his son. Jesus gets his abilities from God the Father, and according to the film, passes his royal blood through a secret lineage. On it's face, the creation of a super-race of humans through careful breeding smacks of eugenics, but I think it's probably meant to be a metaphor for the emboldening of the human spirit. I hope.
Without going into all the messianic imagery in both films, I think we've pretty well established the comparison. But, if you're a member of Congress, and even if you're not, you might be thinking to yourself that all this amounts to is worth less than a hill of beans. Then again, if you tend to think like a congressman, you should expect to be wrong. The reason the similarities between these films matter is because it points to the emergence of a new archetypal story, or rather a very old story that is just now attaining prominence in contemporary culture. I like to think of it as a small step for man, and a giant leap for womankind. That's because this new story is really the story of what Dan Brown terms in The Da Vinci Code "the sacred feminine." Notice that the role of women and matrilineage is brought to prominence in the two films. Mary Magdalen is redeemed from her status as whore and elevated to holy grail. Lois Lane is no longer the scrappy muckraker of yore, but is the mother of Superman's progeny, humanity's next great hope, and a Pulitzer Prize-winner to boot. Gone are the distant father-figures peering down from the heavens or staring out at us from alien crystals, the new heros are sensitive family men who prefer to stay close to home. Well, that's the bright-side, anyway. On the other hand, the end of Superman Returns leaves us with the image of Superman flying off into space to go be a hero or sulk in his Fortress of Solitude, leaving his son to be raised by his mother and a surrogate father who can only fly by means of an airplane. Gee, I wonder who that kid will resent more, his impotent step-father his mother never really loved, or his biological father who abandoned him with powers he cannot begin to comprehend. What if this Superboy, filled with anger and resentment toward his father, goes bad, Darth Vader-style? Well, at least the macho men are beginning to admit to their roles as parents, even if they're not actually going to perform them.
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