One man's meat is another man's cotton candy (or worse), and meditations on the sacred

[Vort]

[rant]

Have you ever received a strong positive recommendation from a trusted friend or family member? "You gotta see this movie! It's mind-bending!" "This is The. Best. Book. EVAR. It changed my life." "I just heard the most awesome song! Utterly beautiful, thoughtful, introspective! You'd love it!"

Have you then watched the movie, read the book, or listened to the song, only to find that it was rather the opposite of life-changing? More like a waste of your time, or worse? Have the words "trite", "insipid", or maybe just "stoooopid" come to mind? Have such experiences maybe even given you cause to rethink your assessment of the friend or family member?

Have you ever been on the other side of such an event?

[/rant]

Some scattered and wandering thoughts:

I wonder why this situation described above happens. Are we really so fundamentally different, especially from family and friends, that what is garbage to one is inspirational to another? Apparently so. Not sure what to make of this phenomenon. I remember when my oldest, who is incalculably precious to me, so strongly recommended an LDS-oriented movie called Ephraim's Rescue. We watched it as a family. I kept my opinions to myself, wisely, and didn't let him see me rolling my eyes throughout. I was perhaps a little surprised that he found it as moving as he did. But he was a young, tender-hearted, uncalloused twentysomething, not a disillusioned and slightly cynical middle-aged man who sometimes gets bothered by things like bad scripts, hammy acting, or undisguised attempts at emotional manipulation. It's been probably a couple of years since that event, and I think I'd like to rewatch the movie to understand what my boy liked about it, rather than worry about how it was not entertaining me sufficiently.

Surely even the very best of our mortal works of art, however amazing they might seem to us, are no better than kindergarten crayon scrawls to our Father. The operas or movies or songs or plays or novels or stories that we think are so "deep" are, of course, nothing of the sort. There is no depth in mortal works. Nibley liked to talk about mortality as a two-dimensional world that occasionally provides hints at what he called the third dimension, that of eternity. Any and all truly profound things in our lives are those things that establish, reflect, or at least hint at the things of eternity.

Holy things are those things that are eternal. What do we have around us that is eternal? Not our Church; it's the current manifestation of the kingdom of God, which is of course eternal. But the Church is temporary. It had a beginning—1830—and it will have an end. Insofar as the Church embodies the kingdom of God, it must be a sacred thing. But it's sacred by association, or better, by assignment, not intrinsically.

Temples? Same. A temple is a sort of portal to eternity; for us in mortality, it is a representation of God's realm, perhaps the way a song about love is a representation of a man and woman living in marriage for eighty years. It is manifestly not the same thing, not even the same type of thing, but it is a representation of that thing. Whether it's a truthful representation or just a mockery is probably a function of the representation itself and the mindset of those witnessing it. But temples do represent eternity. Moreover, temples are expressly sanctified as the dwelling place of the Lord, who is literally the embodiment of holiness—Man of Holiness is his very name. So temples are "holy", in a sense, which is why we call them "holy temples". But they are not eternal; they are merely representations of enduring reality.

How about people? They are certainly not eternal in a physical sense, yet they are eternal beings. As we know, our bodies are temples, in that they house the spirits of God—that is, us, our spirits. So that makes human life intrinsically sacred.

How about families? Well, families can be eternal, which makes them at least potentially sacred. At its best, a family is not merely a representation of eternity, but an actual functioning piece of eternity. Nothing is more sacred than that.

How about friendships? I don't know, but I'd feel pretty safe that guessing that any human relationship might potentially be eternal. Of course, when the very nature of that relationship goes against spiritual reality (such as an abusive relationship between spouses, or a sexual relationship between same-sex individuals), those relationships become rather the opposite of eternal.

Maybe if we somehow concentrated only ever on sacred things, our lives would be much fuller and more productive. Working for a living is very much concentrating on sacred things. Playing video games? Not so much. Participating in online discussion groups? Hmmm...

The world believes that nothing is sacred, but that some works of art are profound. As usual, the world has it utterly backward. Ephraim's Rescue is neither profound nor sacred, but my son is, and so are the noble feelings arisen in his breast when he watched it.

Edited March 13, 2019 by Vort

[NeuroTypical]

1 hour ago, Vort said:

Have you then watched the movie, read the book, or listened to the song, only to find that it was rather the opposite of life-changing? More like a waste of your time, or worse? Have the words "trite", "insipid", or maybe just "stoooopid" come to mind? Have such experiences maybe even given you cause to rethink your assessment of the friend or family member?

Here's hoping you didn't just binge-watch half a dozen King of the Hill episodes based on my comments.  (Because yeah, I've so often found myself on the other side of this equation that I try hard to not recommend stuff at all these years.) 

I can find sacred and meaningful in dung heaps and drunken brawls and 3/4 of the way through an anti-Christ rant.

 

 

[Fether]

I think the more we understand the harder it becomes to “wow” us.

For example, I don’t know or care to know about the techniques of movie making and story telling. Because of this, I find the new Star Wars movies fantastic (except perhaps “Solo”)

On top of this, I am deeply interested in the gospel and all such oriented things. So for me when I watch church produced movies or movies with saints as their target audience... I’m mildly entertained. I enjoy the story they tell, but disbelieving ofnthe way they portray the early church leaders. I don’t believe Joseph Smith was a perfectly innocent being that only spoke joyful things and spent everyday playing with children and receiving revelation. Though that may be key points of his personality, history and journals tell of a few other less desirable attributes unfit for a movie aimed at saints and potential converts. To me, those short comings We read about in journals are far more faith promoting than the cinamatic portrayal of a perfectly innocent man void of all sins and ill temper.

But then you look at my wife (who is far more righteous than I will ever be) , who can watch Ephraim’s Rescue and Prophet of the Restoration every Sabbath and still enjoy it. She loves the gospel, but finds less interest in discussing and studying the gospel in “depth” (depth meaning the pointless, non-salvation effecting portions of the church)

I honestly believe that my love of studying has brought upon me a bit of pride and has made it difficult for me to enjoy simple faith filled stories produced by the church. I can’t watch movies like Priphet of the Restoration without deep skepticism. I see that as a weakness and not a strength, but in my heat of hearts, I still get pride from disliking such movies.

[anatess2]

I told you Captain Marvel sucks! 

[anatess2]

16 hours ago, Vort said:

I wonder why this situation described above happens. Are we really so fundamentally different, especially from family and friends, that what is garbage to one is inspirational to another?

Yes.  Because of our differing experiences and personalities.  For example, anime is near and dear to me because when I was 8 years old the most popular show showing in the 3 channels available on our colored TV is Voltes V, Mazinger Z, and Danguard Ace and Marcos dropped the hammer and banned all of them.  So we became the Star Wars rebellion and smuggled Japanese betamax tapes of these shows.

So Alita: Battle Angel comes along and, manoman.  It is the BEST. MOVIE. EVER.  Imagine the scratchy betamax tapes in 70's cgi that was near and dear to us now put on a 3D big screen live action movie complete with all the cyberpunk gore that made us feel like "all grown up" at 8 years old for sneak watching.

And then there's the time when we spent every last bit of our allowance dropping tokens onto a video arcade and Marcos bans arcades too.  So we had to finagle ways to get invited to the rich kid's house who has an atari.... and Ready Player One comes along and.... BEST. MOVIE. EVER. 

Yes yes, they're Best.  not Alita is better... both are Best.  Don't tell me about logic or something.  They're both the Best. Movie. Ever.

So I drag every person I know to watch those movies and... they're like, meh.  It was just ok... and my heart is crushed.  I miss my friends who snuck betamax tapes with me.  Hah hah.  Of course, I also have those friends who hated anime and would rather watch the Fonze all day long.

 

Edited March 14, 2019 by anatess2

[Vort]

Yesterday, I remembered a Joni Mitchell song from my early childhood that I hadn't heard or thought of in decades. So naturally I got on my magic box and looked it up. In my memory, the song talks about cotton candy (which shows how reliable my memory isn't—no cotton candy to be seen) and love. As I child, I was not sure what to make of the song, except that it sounded pretty to me and seemed sad, even though the music was sort of bouncy. Even though I was young, I realized that the song had a sort of edge to it, which as an adult I would easily identify as cynicism. In relistening to it, I was most struck by the recognition of the illusory nature of our perceptions. What do we "really know"? Anything? (I think testimony would be at or near the top of that very short list.)

Anyway, here are the lyrics. A nice thing about much older popular music is that you can easily understand what they're saying. Is there any real depth to these, or is it just vanity and fluff? Do the lyrics contain wisdom, or is any wisdom carried there by the mind of the listener? What do you think?

(For the record, I did not have anyone on this list consciously in mind when I created this thread. Or this song, either. Just a stream-of-consciousness thing. And yes, I realize this is another opportunity for MG to target my poor musical tastes. But I accepted that reality long ago.)

********************************************

Rows and flows of angel hair, and ice cream castles in the air, and feathered canyons everywhere
I've looked at clouds that way
But now they only block the sun. They rain and snow on everyone. So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I've looked at clouds from both sides now, from up and down, and still, somehow, it's clouds' illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels—the dizzy, dancing way you feel as every fairy tale comes real
I've looked at love that way
But now it's just another show; you leave 'em laughing when you go, and if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away

I've looked at love from both sides now, from give and take, and still, somehow, it's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all

Tears and fears, and feeling proud to say "I love you" right out loud; dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way
But now old friends are acting strange. They shake their heads, they say I've changed. Well, something's lost, but something's gained
In living every day

I've looked at life from both sides now, from win and lose, and still, somehow, it's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all.

This isn't actually the version I remember from my childhood, but whatever.

[Guest MormonGator]

2 minutes ago, Vort said:

And yes, I realize this is another opportunity for MG to target my poor musical tastes. But I accepted that reality long ago

Too easy. Like making fun of a blind guy because his paintings are terrible. 

[anatess2]

5 hours ago, Vort said:

Yesterday, I remembered a Joni Mitchell song from my early childhood that I hadn't heard or thought of in decades. So naturally I got on my magic box and looked it up. In my memory, the song talks about cotton candy (which shows how reliable my memory isn't—no cotton candy to be seen) and love. As I child, I was not sure what to make of the song, except that it sounded pretty to me and seemed sad, even though the music was sort of bouncy. Even though I was young, I realized that the song had a sort of edge to it, which as an adult I would easily identify as cynicism. In relistening to it, I was most struck by the recognition of the illusory nature of our perceptions. What do we "really know"? Anything? (I think testimony would be at or near the top of that very short list.)

So, there's this movie called A Hundred Foot Journey and it's about an Indian cook who became a renowned French chef.  Anyway, he learned to cook from his mother who explained food to him as.... memories.  We kill to make the food, but the essence of the food lives on in our memories, so that's what you're doing when you cook - you create memories.  Anyway, he went on and became this super modern French chef who makes fancy stuff like candied beets and the more he invents all these awesome food, the more he starts to feel empty until he caught an Indian souz chef on his break eating from his lunchbox made by his Indian wife using spices bought from India.  The souz chef shared his lunch with him and he started to cry because he found what was missing in his creations - he was missing the memories.

I kinda see the building of testimony as this same journey.  You don't really have a testimony hit you all at once and then you understand.  Rather, you build memories.. little affirmations, very small almost unrecognizable memories, until finally, the last piece falls and all those memories come together to form the full picture.  And that's why every single testimony is unique from another's - different experiences, different memories, different affirmations mixed with different personalities that determine how the Holy Ghost speaks to us as individuals.

Edited March 14, 2019 by anatess2

[Vort]

1 hour ago, anatess2 said:

So, there's this movie called A Hundred Foot Journey

I dislike Steven Spielberg and I'm no fan of Oprah Winfrey. Would I still like the film? If so, I might get it for date night.

[anatess2]

2 hours ago, Vort said:

I dislike Steven Spielberg and I'm no fan of Oprah Winfrey. Would I still like the film? If so, I might get it for date night.

You will love it, I’m 80% certain.  It’s perfect for Date Night.

[anatess2]

@Vort, I hope to get your A Hundred Foot Journey review.    No pressure.  Hah hah.

 

[Vort]

2 hours ago, anatess2 said:

@Vort, I hope to get your A Hundred Foot Journey review.    No pressure.  Hah hah.

It's a standing joke between my wife and me that movies we see on recommendation of my friends or what I've heard turn out to be duds. Early in our marriage, we watched some stupid movie called Baron Munchausen based on how funny I had heard it was. Neither of us cracked a smile, and about 45 minutes into it we turned it off and I went and got my money back (only time I've done that). That has happened other times, too; hence the inside joke. So when I suggested A Hundred Foot Journey as a recommended movie, I was please to get, not flak, but a rejoinder of more or less, "Yeah, Vortling II said that was a great movie. I've been wanting to watch it."

So I'll let you know after we watch it, maybe this coming weekend.

Edited March 18, 2019 by Vort

[Guest Mores]

I once quoted The Art of War to a group.  The resident cynic who had never read the book began to criticize it as lacking insight.  Her claimed ethos came from "being in the military".

[anatess2]

34 minutes ago, Vort said:

It's a standing joke between my wife and me that movies we see on recommendation of my friends or what I've heard turn out to be duds. Early in our marriage, we watched some stupid movie called Baron Munchausen based on how funny I had heard it was. Neither of us cracked a smile, and about 45 minutes into it we turned it off and I went and got my money back (only time I've done that). That has happened other times, too; hence the inside joke. So when I suggested A Hundred Foot Journey as a recommended movie, I was please to get, not flak, but a rejoinder of more or less, "Yeah, Vortling II said that was a great movie. I've been wanting to watch it."

So I'll let you know after we watch it, maybe this coming weekend.

Next time... tell your wife this was recommended by the person who recommended Arrival.  Woot woot woot!