Anyone expecting this to be a cohesive piece of writing, your wish-fulfilling-genie is on a break today. (And no I don’t know when they’ll be back.) The only accidental thing common to these musings is that they sort-of occurred within the same day, in the EST timezone.
If someone is about to scream, and the purpose is just to scream cos they feel like it, they should let the people within earshot know beforehand. It’ll be quite distressing if they rushed to help, and then found out they were supposed to ignore thousands of years worth of evolutionary training. I’d request the same courtesy from all artists/ performers. If they’re just looking to express (rather than communicate or entertain), and I’m part of the audience, please let me know so I can stop trying to figure the art or performance out. I have other uses for my limited gray cells, such as pondering on how best to use my gray cells. If I go to see a dance performance, please have mercy and do not give me a euclidean riddle to solve in my off-work hours. (And while we’re on that subject, please don’t give me those in my on-work hours either!)
So say I’m a believer. In God, that is. Or try to be. One thing kinda common to all believers of the God-delusion (that’s a tongue-in-cheek homage to all those who choose to ignore Einstein’s conclusion on the topic) is that there’s no place we’re not watched. In fact, one of the earliest-heard stories from my childhood (back when the stories aimed to communicate morals, not advertising tag lines) is when a teacher asks the students to go do a task where no-one was watching, and one child comes back saying, I couldn’t do it because everywhere I went, God was watching. So why is it, that we behave so differently in the masjid, the house of God, than we do outside of it, as if that was the only place God can see us? The same people who’d talk, work, take the bus, buy stuff at the counter, or any of a myriad of mundane everyday tasks in the presence of males and females, would be SO hesitant to coexist in the same physical room as the other gender? One, it hasn’t been established that breathing the same recycled air as the other gender is forbidden. Second, if it was, it’d be no worse doing it inside the mosque than outside of it. And third, merely coexisting in the same space is about as desegregated an environment as that of Southern US (or British India) of the late 1800’s. I don’t get it. But what else is news.
I walk into a comedy show. The audience is so white it’s like it snowed inside. I don’t have a problem, but I do wonder. Now that we see some brown on the ski-slopes, or even in cottage country and canoeing lakes, what’s up with comedy shows? Either this “refined” entertainment escapes the rest of the human population, or they are (or think they are) so funny themselves they don’t need “hired help”? The other interesting demographic is: it’s only women or couples. I guess it’s just not a guy thing to go watch some dude being funny? And once the courtship/ “winning over” period ends, it makes sense to pay the $15 or something to some other guy to amuse the wife/girlfriend. Who can keep up that effort for life? What I found amusing (certainly not the opening act) was the disclaimer that there may be adult material, but there’s no age restriction. Talk about consistent laws! I can’t hear this joke in a movie, but I can go hear it in a live show. It’s bound to be less damaging to my young impressionable mind.
But of course, since I have electricity, running hot/cold water, reliable and safe transportation, and everything else to make my life comfy (including socks that have “fingers” for my toes just like gloves for the hands), I can sit back and complain about anything and everything. Perfectly natural and justified.