Infinitely Entertained

                “In time, you will know what it's like to lose. To feel so desperately that you're right. Yet to fail all the same.” – Thanos

Rights to Disney/Marvel

The Review           

            To be a proper hero you need a great villain. Someone who is powerful, intelligent, persuasive, maybe some can even be sympathetic to the cause. To sum it up; heroes need a substantial threat, especially the super-powered kind. The viewer (see also reader or player) needs to feel as though there is some sense of danger and suspense surrounding the protagonist for which they are rooting. Avengers: Infinity War accomplishes that in this writer’s view.

            So it’s here I want to write about my experience with Avengers: Infinity War. Now that I have completed enough therapy sessions after watching it to feel that I can discuss it and not need a safe space.

            I won’t go into spoilers here, even though I imagine if you are interested in the MCU you’ve likely already ventured to the theater or at least uncovered details of the plot elsewhere. It’s safe to say,  it was full every emotion;  action on many different fronts, touches of great humor between the characters (Bucky and Rocket to name just one), love, respect, and much, much more.

            You may have guessed by now overall, I loved the movie. I grew up with these heroes in nothing but comic book form and the imagination of a teenager to power them. There is something deeply appealing to me about seeing these heroes literally come to life. It is even greater to see them come together in order to overcome the impossible. It motivates me to press on in the face of adversity. That quite simply is the highest compliment you can pay to any art form (Yes I just referred to a genre where the main characters wear tights as an “art form”), is that it pushes you to be a better human being.

The Haters

            What’s odd to me is I continue to see people on social media express their disdain for the super hero genre as overdone, childish or predictable. And to those people, I would say it is. It’s based on fictional characters that have incredible otherworldly powers, also there’s a guy that shoots arrows. All of them are equally interesting to me because of what they stand for, even the villains. So if you don’t like super hero films I have two pieces of advice: 1) Go back to watching Downton Abbey, and 2) Fuck right off because no one asked for your opinion (Somewhat ironic coming from a blogger, no?).

Where I’d Like to See the Next Movie Go

      I enjoy the Avengers (and many DC characters as well). However, my favorite team is the X-Men, specifically Wolverine. As such, it is my hope that at least in the post credit scene of Avengers 4 we get a sneak peek of the X-Men and/or the Fantastic Four. Although, if Disney/Marvel really wants this writer (and many other fanboys and girls) to completely geek out, a full crossover and meeting of these teams fighting side-by-side with the Avengers would be epic (And trust me I’m not the type of guy to throw around the word epic very often)!

            For now, the opening day for the yet untitled Avengers 4 is slated for May 3, 2019. In the meantime, I’ll keep snapping my fingers in anticipation.

Rights to Disney/Marvel

When the Going Gets Tough

...the tough throw their hands up in the air and scream “FUCK!!!”

But then they roll up their sleeves and get to work fixing whatever shit they need to in order to right the wrongs of life.

Its no secret that life can be hard sometimes, maybe even for some of us, it’s even hard a lot of the time.

But here’s a little secret you probably aren’t reminded of enough:

There is something to be said for your resiliency, your innate strength that helps you overcome obstacles, deal with problems and get through the tough times.

You are battle tested and have proven that you have the power to overcome whatever is thrown your way.   Even if you do not feel equipped to deal with the problem that you are facing, that mountain that is in your way is there because God knows you can handle it and someone else can’t. Some people might chalk this up to some sort of cosmic “test” (and maybe it is, what the hell do I know?) - I however, would categorize it as an experience that is both designed and destined to make you stronger.

I also realize that seeing any negative experience in this light, while you are going through it, can be near impossible. But hold it in your heart, tuck it in your pocket- whatever you want to do with it, keep that notion safe, because you will overcome.

Closer to the End

This one is bound to be another melancholy endeavor, I imagine...but much like anything, its one of those damnable thoughts that has wormed its way into my brain, and I can’t get rid of it. The only way to let it go, is to write it away, so here I am. Or rather, if you’re reading this, here we are.

Without going into too many details death has been on my mind as of late. Although, with that being said, maybe it was there all along, I just didn’t see it clearly. I’ll take a second to reassure anyone reading this, it is not a welcome thought. I have not reverted to shopping at Hot Topic and wearing black nail polish. I view death with a stoic mysticism I reserve for little else. It does not frighten me, but neither is it welcomed.

But recently, as I saw yet another life pass from this world to the next, I thought after, about the hereafter. My mind cycled through the all the times I’ve been on hand, witnessing someone close, or even not so close, slip from this realm. I thought about how, in the end, for all our technology, for all our advances, all we can do is buy time. All the medical bills, all the procedures, all the money spent, only really amount to a few precious increments of time. Ultimately immeasurable, as even the experts seem to be unable to guarantee just how much time we get per dollar. When it comes down to it, this creates in me a sense of helplessness, tinged with anger. I despise not being able to act in a manner that assists those close to me.

Sitting in an office, I have been next to the person getting the news of a horrendous diagnosis many times. I look at them, I comfort them. I cry as they cry. Saying the lie we’ve all told at some point in our lives, “It’s all going to be okay.”

Outside of the hospital room, I have sulked gloomily, waiting for the final update. Knowing that sooner, rather than later, some person in a white coat will come by, and solemnly state, “They’ve passed.” This is usually done in an efficient manner so the person occupying that bed can be extradited, all so someone else may take their place.

I’ve been there I have been at the deathbed of a few special relatives. I have held their clammy hands in a mockery of solidarity, stared down nothing while they’ve stared down death.

My eyes have seen the shovelfuls of dirt fall, explode into tiny granules as they collide with the top of a casket from above. I have heard the prayers uttered by clergy, often evoking sobs from the crowd, no matter how small or large.

These images are universal of course. While we may not all fear death, most of us avoid thinking about it, letting alone talking about it. Afterall, why focus on death when there’s so much living to do?

However, this time that little thought I referenced earlier slipped into my head, nesting there. Perhaps it snuck in past an inflamed tear duct, and fast tracked its way to my brain, where it made itself quite comfortable.

That thought was the realization that one day...I wouldn’t  merely be the one sitting next to the person getting the bad news, nor would I be the one waiting outside the hospital room, or even holding the hand of the person that was facing death. I would be the one the bad news would be about, the one in the hospital bed, the one in the ground, rather than observing from above it.

With that my friends it seems appropriate to say what many have said before me; do not wait. Do not hesitate. If you want something, go after it, if you love someone let them know. If you hate your job, find another, if you hate where you live, find somewhere else.

Life is too short to regret, the closer to the end I get, the more I see that.

Good luck and Godspeed,

- David

Everything's Gonna be OK?

I saw Tim walk into the break room, shoulders hunched, head down carrying his red Igloo cooler.  

“How’s it going Tim?” I did it, I asked the question to which no one really wants to hear the answer. Based on the most current office gossip I realized I already knew the answer anyway, which made my question all the more regrettable. From my perch against the counter, I took a swig of soda.

Tim looked up at me with those basset hound eyes life had recently given him, “Do you really want to know?” He made his way to an empty table, manhandled a seat, and plopped himself down along with his things.

Internally, I gasped, he had given me an out. “Yes of course.”

Wait, what the hell did I say that for?

Tim cocked his head to one side. It would’ve reminded me of that canine head tilt, but in his eyes I saw no confusion, only suspicion. He raised his eyebrows, as if to say, Are you sure?

“Let’s hear it,” damn it I was too polite. I barely knew Tim and I didn’t think that whatever he was about to tell me I was qualified to hear as a random co-worker .

“Well you heard about Heather?” he said it as if he were testing me, feeling out the level at which I had dipped my feet into the stream of office gossip.

I nodded, as Tim unpacked the contents of his cooler. I saw the main course of his lunch was some mystery concoction of a light brown globular mixture in a tupperware container. He also set aside a smaller container which held a brownie, last was a bottle of generic sports drink. I remember because the pale blue liquid matched his eyes.

Tim’s eyes told me he already knew that I had known about his wife’s condition. “She’s gotten worse,” his words were sharp, short and to the point.

I was in too deep, and I felt like Tim needed an outlet, so I did the unthinkable. “Hmm, how is she doing?”

Tim shot those skeptical eyes my way again, still not sure if I was truly asking because I cared, or asking out of some poorly constructed sense of duty. I wasn’t sure myself. “Bedridden, for, “ he looked at the ceiling for an answer, “oh about a week now.”

“Sorry to hear man.”

“Yeah, she’s losing a lot of mobility.”

“Oh yikes,” I sighed, “so any positives, hints of improvements?”

“Nope,” Tim popped open his container of brown goo.

I tried to change the subject, “Whatcha got for lunch there?”

He didn’t take the bait, or the hint.

“She’s having trouble taking care of herself, so it’s getting harder on me, physically...mentally.”

“Can you get any sort of help with that?”

I didn’t expect Tim to respond with any humor, even if glib, but he did, “Are you volunteering?” the comment was flaky and dry.

I forced a chuckle. “Well I meant family, that sort of thing?”

“Heather’s family? Bunch of backwards religious fanatics. My family? Elitist rat racers. So no I doubt it,” Tim’s voice lowered, “I mean honestly it’d be nice just to get someone in there to deal with her incontinence.”  

I broke eye contact with Tim. In desperation, I turned to the only phrase that came to mind, “Everything is going to be okay.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed and his lips became tight. “How dare you.”

“Huh?” I sipped on my Mountain Dew.  

“I tell you that I’ve spent the last week cleaning up my dying wife’s shit and the best you can do is ‘everything is going to be okay?’”

Tim’s comment should’ve thrown me, or pissed me off. Afterall, I didn’t volunteer to be the one for him to take his anger out on. But as I looked him over and tried to think of how to respond, I saw his face for the first time, really saw it I mean. I had worked with this guy for three years and never really knew what he looked like. And what he looked like was a man that had let life walk all over him.

When I remained silent Tim barely hesitated in berating me again, “I guess the next thing you’re going to say is ‘In time I’ll get over her’ right? That seems to be a popular phrase too, like everyone’s already preparing me for the worst. Well god dammit she’s my wife! How the hell could anyone think I’d want to get over the love of my life?”

Tim began to sob, I didn’t speak. I just let him, let me (and everyone else) that had made one of these empty, self-serving comments have it.

Tim pushed his lunch away in disgust. “Chose your words more wisely next time.”