(no subject)
Dec. 6th, 2005 10:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
camwyn*sigh*
You know how I was always a little amazed that I could sustain both John Constantine and Sergeant Preston in my head at the same time? I've got another WTF Dichotomy pair in there now. Ray Stantz is at one end, and the other... well.
His name was Andrew Tuttle. He was a university professor of anthropology, once; he had a close friend who was on the psychiatric staff of a research hospital; he brought his son- his severely bipolar son- to them for whatever help they could provide after the boy's mental state got out of hand. That was his first turning point.
The second came when he was pursuing self-control, objectivity, independent study of the human social animal without involvement; he could see himself so much more clearly in the light reflected from the rest of the human race, and he knew just how dangerous that could be; how much of society is founded on illusion, belief, air...
Then things started to fall apart, the gang violence got out of hand, the city streets were as unsafe as anything you could ever think to see. There were a few fair places but hardly worth mentioning. The religiously affiliated political parties were partly responsible; an overwhelming attitude of 'the world is ending and God is coming' is not much good for repentance sometimes, but instead leads to horrific indulgence. The world, after all, is coming to an end, and God is hardly going to be impressed with repentance under threat of annihilation, is he? Better to indulge now.
The third turning point came when a girl of his son's acquaintance- not his girlfriend, just someone he knew- was brutally raped and too traumatized to talk about it. He thought on this for a while and he went to the psychiatrist and he said, "the stuff you have my son on, the stuff that evens him out- can it help her?" And it did. Took all the pain, took all the guilt, gave her the ability to breathe again- to testify.
That was when he knew, when he could see with absolute certainty that the human animal could not be entirely trusted. That there were people who could be, who might be the foundation of something very great, and that they existed everywhere- but they were so few, and that other people through no fault of their own were too weak or too flawed to do so. But that there was help. Not everyone can be great on their own. But they can be better- and where there is a flaw that can be patched...
He was preparing his thoughts on this matter in book form when the third world war broke out. What role he played in it, I don't know. I suspect he fought in it, guerilla-style, and was utterly revolted by the end of it. He'd seen too much before and he'd seen too much now, and it had to end. And he could not keep quiet about it because to do so would drive him mad, so he wrote. And wrote. And wrote. He never really thought it would amount to anything because he did not expect to live through it all. When one of the people he was sheltering found his writings and asked him for permission to read, he gave it. And they spoke of it to other people and next thing he knew they wanted to hear, they wanted to learn, they wanted out of the game.
Control alone would be too much to hope for, no one has that much discipline forever. But science could still help, somehow, if the war could only end- and when the powers that were left grew too tired to exert themselves further, he and his spoke up in the silent places between the arming of the missiles. And people who wanted relief, wanted sanity, came forward and begged him to help them.
They called him a lot of things but in the end he said for them to stop using those names and titles. He was a concerned father. That was all...
On such little things are great and terrible names made.
"George Orwell once said that democracy is the worst form of government save for all the others that have been tried. Clearly, we need to try something else. Only once the slate is clean- only once human history has been overcome- can the true post-war reconstruction of human society begin. We will build a new structure, a truly grand and great society, and we shall do so without mistakes."
... yeah, it's Father, the dictator from Equilibrium.
I have said it before and I shall say it again: I ph34r the inside of my head.
You know how I was always a little amazed that I could sustain both John Constantine and Sergeant Preston in my head at the same time? I've got another WTF Dichotomy pair in there now. Ray Stantz is at one end, and the other... well.
His name was Andrew Tuttle. He was a university professor of anthropology, once; he had a close friend who was on the psychiatric staff of a research hospital; he brought his son- his severely bipolar son- to them for whatever help they could provide after the boy's mental state got out of hand. That was his first turning point.
The second came when he was pursuing self-control, objectivity, independent study of the human social animal without involvement; he could see himself so much more clearly in the light reflected from the rest of the human race, and he knew just how dangerous that could be; how much of society is founded on illusion, belief, air...
Then things started to fall apart, the gang violence got out of hand, the city streets were as unsafe as anything you could ever think to see. There were a few fair places but hardly worth mentioning. The religiously affiliated political parties were partly responsible; an overwhelming attitude of 'the world is ending and God is coming' is not much good for repentance sometimes, but instead leads to horrific indulgence. The world, after all, is coming to an end, and God is hardly going to be impressed with repentance under threat of annihilation, is he? Better to indulge now.
The third turning point came when a girl of his son's acquaintance- not his girlfriend, just someone he knew- was brutally raped and too traumatized to talk about it. He thought on this for a while and he went to the psychiatrist and he said, "the stuff you have my son on, the stuff that evens him out- can it help her?" And it did. Took all the pain, took all the guilt, gave her the ability to breathe again- to testify.
That was when he knew, when he could see with absolute certainty that the human animal could not be entirely trusted. That there were people who could be, who might be the foundation of something very great, and that they existed everywhere- but they were so few, and that other people through no fault of their own were too weak or too flawed to do so. But that there was help. Not everyone can be great on their own. But they can be better- and where there is a flaw that can be patched...
He was preparing his thoughts on this matter in book form when the third world war broke out. What role he played in it, I don't know. I suspect he fought in it, guerilla-style, and was utterly revolted by the end of it. He'd seen too much before and he'd seen too much now, and it had to end. And he could not keep quiet about it because to do so would drive him mad, so he wrote. And wrote. And wrote. He never really thought it would amount to anything because he did not expect to live through it all. When one of the people he was sheltering found his writings and asked him for permission to read, he gave it. And they spoke of it to other people and next thing he knew they wanted to hear, they wanted to learn, they wanted out of the game.
Control alone would be too much to hope for, no one has that much discipline forever. But science could still help, somehow, if the war could only end- and when the powers that were left grew too tired to exert themselves further, he and his spoke up in the silent places between the arming of the missiles. And people who wanted relief, wanted sanity, came forward and begged him to help them.
They called him a lot of things but in the end he said for them to stop using those names and titles. He was a concerned father. That was all...
On such little things are great and terrible names made.
"George Orwell once said that democracy is the worst form of government save for all the others that have been tried. Clearly, we need to try something else. Only once the slate is clean- only once human history has been overcome- can the true post-war reconstruction of human society begin. We will build a new structure, a truly grand and great society, and we shall do so without mistakes."
... yeah, it's Father, the dictator from Equilibrium.
I have said it before and I shall say it again: I ph34r the inside of my head.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:22 pm (UTC)*stares*
*FLEES*
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:28 pm (UTC)Father's point of view makes perfect sense so long as you begin from the same postulates he does. And it explains so damn much about the implementation to look at it this way...
(By the way, I am quite sure that in the Equilibrium 'verse, Father a) was not on the dose because he had achieved sufficient self-control not to need it to abolish feeling in himself, and b) was murdered by Dupont.)
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:38 pm (UTC)I hadn't even heard of the movie until this post.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 05:06 pm (UTC)Christian Bale is fairly underrated as an actor, he's got a penchant for picking odd movies that strech him creatively but that never seem to mesh with what his fans think about him.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:45 pm (UTC)(I am definitely with you on b), there. It's possible a) freaks me out WAY too much.)
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:50 pm (UTC)And he just looked at me and said, "I would never ask my people to do anything I myself was not sure of." He did use Prosium for a time, but he weaned himself off it and built the coping mechanisms into his own psyche. I'm almost certain of it.
glaaaaaaah.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 05:15 pm (UTC)My own brain is kind of making dying yak noises and curling up. I cannot imagine what yours is doing (besides maybe cackling evilly? I remain unsure).
I wonder how he felt when Dupont killed him? Given, you know, that he effectively had no emotion.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 05:24 pm (UTC)As for how he felt? There was a mild sort of puzzlement. Mostly at how he had failed to see this coming.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 05:37 pm (UTC). . . . Or form an unholy alliance and bring the known world crumbling to its knees.
Okay. Scrap that idea.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 05:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 06:03 pm (UTC)*makes note*
Yeah, I get the difference between those things. I just amuse myself with the idea of mental deathmatches. Mostly because ignoring the creepy mental 'voices' just never seems to work.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 06:09 pm (UTC)I just have to let him run his course. And resist the terrible urge to claim that one of his ancestors in the early 20th century was a physician who later became an architect and designed 55 Central Park West, regardless of the fact that both thought society was too sick to survive.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 06:18 pm (UTC)Now I picture him running on a hamster wheel.
wtf.
*offers you tea*
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 06:19 pm (UTC)Though the tea would not be taken amiss.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 09:03 pm (UTC)To the point where sometimes they don't explain to me WHY their seemingly-disjointed actions are in fact consistent, just based on a fact or personality-facet that they haven't bothered to tell me about yet. Dammit.
Usericon one such character, started as a joke; people I played D&D with complained that I was always playing happy-clappy half-elven Goddess-worshipping healers, so they made me swear to do a full-on single-classed fighter next time. I did. She's a sea-elf. She lurves her blades, and caresses and sharpens them ALL the time. She's also, effectively, that Ominous Cloaked Figure in the corner of the tavern that has all the barmaids oogy-feeling. :->
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:28 pm (UTC)Cam, I think I might have nighmares over this one. Well done!
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 04:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 06:20 pm (UTC)Look at George Bush.
PS? Hellblazer:Hogwarts...new chapter yet?
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 06:23 pm (UTC)There's a lot of guns involved.
And no, not yet, but I'm working on it.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-07 10:14 pm (UTC)Anytime I think the inside of my head is a scary place, really I should just talk to you for half an hour.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-08 04:26 am (UTC)