There is no spoon

There is no spoon

As usual, my friend Wendy (who would undoubtedly write a fascinating weblog should she ever pick up the habit) has provided me with a fresh perspective on a pop culture experience. While watching Star Wars Episode II, we saw the trailer for the Matrix sequels coming out next year. She said she had never seen the original movie. So I invited her over to watch it on my modest DVD rig.

After the movie was over last night, she said something to the effect of, “Well, it’s cool, because I sort of believe it, you know?”

But rather than meaning that we are actually trapped in a virtual reality made by enslaving computers, she meant that we are all shoehorned into the narrow confines of what our society deems acceptable behavior. We go to work, we come home, and we busy ourselves with a limited range of “leisure activities” designed to numb us to the realities we face every day.

“I mean, you could come home and go skipping down the street. Or you could paint yourself red from head to toe. But you don’t do that, because it wouldn’t be accepted,” she said.

Not that there aren’t other reasons I don’t paint myself red. But I thought her basic point was well-taken. Her reaction reminded me of mine to “The Truman Show,” which to me is all about society’s setting of limits and constantly reminding us not to overstep those artificial boundaries.

I guess it’s also human nature to want to be accepted by others, both our friends and family and the society as a whole. But now and again, a little red paint wouldn’t hurt.