Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Like Clockwork

We all have our routines. Rituals that, despite their repetitive nature, we feel at ease with. We may break from such behavioral patterns but we can just as easily get back into that fail safe practice. It's therapeutic in a sense, allowing us a little bit of control a world where chance is a cruel mother that just as soon nurture you and kick you to the curb when you least expect it.

In our own little world of repetition, we feel secure. A domain wherein our own idea of order is constant, we tuck away worries in preparing for the day. Consistency, that would've been nice if it lived up to its meaning.

Things change. That cannot be, ironic as it may sound, changed. Nothing is ever constant, and like any good thing, routines come to an end. Routines involve people and objects. People go away, and objects eventually deteriorate. Sure both are replaceable to some extent, but sometimes one cannot bring back what was lost.

When faced with the habit of initiating this routine, we find ourselves pausing, simply because what was once there is no more. Losing a long held treasure like a car, a house or maybe even pen can be inexplicably difficult to absorb, even worse is when a person is the one absent. The usual good mornings to the friendly doorman, the long chats with a dear friend... a kiss goodbye from a loved one... these are perhaps the most devastating kind of loss, because it is when the routine is broken due to their absence that the loss truly sinks in.

And you realize with finality, that things will never be the same...

Friday, November 7, 2008

The Players Have Changed, But the Game Remains the Same

Obamania is currently sweeping the globe, a euphoric wave ripe with renewed hope, vigor and a taste of anxiety for things to come. The world bore witness as history was made, the first ever African-American President of United States of America. Pundits and armchair analysts (myself included) would opine about how this victory is for everyone, how the Afro-American Barack Obama took over the White House, perhaps erasing humanity's hate and bias towards our ethnic differences. Rejoice world, for the Black Messiah cometh.

Really?

You either die a hero or live long enough to be the villain. Harvey Dent couldn't have come up with a better way to summarize this phenomenon. Already the detractors, spin doctors and self-absorbed intellectuals are starting the engines to their propaganda of hate and vitriol. Ironically, Obama and any democratic state or nation would have no choice but favor such, it is in line with the principles that they claim to champion. The opposition of any government does serve as the catalyst for Obama's favorite buzz word: Change.

But is there truly change? Besides the superficial of course. The players have one goal and that is to wield power. For whatever their motivations, they find themselves building alliances, making enemies, and dancing to the beat of trends of the times. Platforms are made, skeletons dragged out of the closet, truths embellished. It's probably the dirtiest game there is, this game of Politicking. The depths have gone to a lot of highs, but more often than not they are shadowed by the lows.

In many ways, Obama was the perfect candidate. Articulate, relatively younger, and he was black. The scene was looking more and more like a Spike Lee movie minus the tragedy. The rich old white man is the villain and against great odds, the black man won. Still, with the previous Administrations' blunders, even if Obama wasn't Afro-American, victory would've been his IMHO.

The problem lies with how the world views this victory. We celebrate, but do we really know how the cards are spread? Do we know why this Obama's victory is good for everyone even though he represents one country? Or is this merely the sheep going with the flock?

"Black President. That's so cool right? I mean, I totally feel free since he represents breaking away from cultural indiference."

Go to hell bandwagonner, understand that this game is played differently than you think. Understand that behind that black man is still the issues and ideologies of those who believe that they know better.

For centuries the battle wasn't about race, culture, or whatehaveyous, they are mere flavors. The true struggle is going against our very nature of self-destruction and selfishness, to be united or cohabit to survive. It's a matter of balance between individual and the collective. Republicans want more control, Democrats want more privacy. The Easter dictatorships want unity/obedience, while the Western Liberals want their voices to be heard. Really, it's a matter of giving up individuality for a whole (not the greater good, because such things are relative depending on who you're talking too and what time it is). Whoever weilds the power gets to influence the scales to their favor.

Will Obama's turn at these scales bring prosperity and peace? Or will it simply be another replay of days past? Who knows? More importantly, who cares and why?

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Moments

Life is defined by moments. Every waking hour of existence is made up of moments with other people. Some we remember, some we forget. Sometimes these moments are significant, no matter how subtle or petty they may be. The simple things, as they are, often fall into the former. A simple smile from a child, an infant gripping tightly around your fingers or those awkward run-ins with the crush - these are the moments that mark us, that we cherish or look to when defining our perception of life.

"It's either you define the moment, or the moment defines you," so says the Roy McAvoy, Kevin Costner's character for the golf-themed romantic comedy Tin Cup. Delivered in true dead pan Costner fashion, the line is laced with the arrogance of a true slacker and dreamer who's hubris is realizing his mortal limitations. Moments can be defined yes, but we can, at the very best, influence them, not control them entirely.

Life is short, but a lot can happen in a short span of time. You can't hope to recall them all, but at the very least, you can recall the moments that made you do the way you are. Significance is relative, what may have been a small comment on your part may have been an Earth-shattering revelation to others.

For whatever moments that we encounter and remember, a degree of appreciation is needed. After all, if you can't recall the significant moments you've had in life, or with others, then just what kind of life have you lived?