keeping in touch with the thoughts of our family, all over the world!
Here is another excerpt from Mona’s February letter, containing a question that might be taken up in the shuttle between your lives and ours:
I feel very deeply that if all soldiers were required to study philosophy for one year prior to military training, our world, and our armed forces, would be something to admire. The kids and I watched “Forest Gump” the other day, and I think it was their first look into the horrors of war, and a look at what it meant to protest against your country, as well as a look into life from the vantage of a good man. The world has forgotten that part of our history — do you think we are better for it?
I need help understanding the question. Does it mean: are we better for having forgotten this period? Or are we better thanks to all the peole who did protest the direction their country was taking? I wonder how Uncle Tom Jenkins would answer those questions. I wonder how my sons would answer them. And Marguerita and Nancy for example. Above all, I wonder how Brian would take off for one of his flights after the long runway of “Forest Gump.”
There’s an unforgettable image in “Pulp Fiction” when John Travolta, the greatest disco dancer of the 80s, shoots up with heroin. There’s a close-up of the teaspoon heating up, then the needle, majestic, enticing, like the biblical tree of knowledge, and then one of his face, smooth and blissful to be in the grips of an artificial paradise. This was an unforgettable reminder of the power and promise of heroin, to provide pleasure and ecstasy. I’d like to compare that image with one from “Forest Gump.” We see him running, awkwardly because he’s got those braces on, but then he picks up speed, and it’s another runway, and all of a sudden the air-currents and the muscle movements are too much for those braces and they just fall to the wayside. There too, for anyone but the most jaded of spectators, we suddenly confront waves of pleasure and ecstasy, on the screen and in our hearts. Here’s a man who is about to take off, destination unknown. What strikes me about his trajectory is how home-grown he is, how close to his mother, how confident and trusting and well, how utterly “country bumpkin” he is. Something close to a moron, to be honest. And yet his speed will take him far from these original coordinates, before it brings him back home. And I think we have here the figure of his protest: the man saw his country slowing down, getting bogged down, becoming cautious and dishonest and self-seeking, spending useless hours in front of the mirror of national identity when the sky above was beckoning. So he said, naively, in his unforgettable Southern accent: hey guys, this is not for me. I’m not used to this sinking into molasses. I’ve known other skies, and other more satisfying and exhilerating cruises. Even ping-pong is better than what you’re doing over there in Vietnam! Wake up guys, and shake off your shackles!
Are we better for having seen Forest Gump on his own glide path back to his birthplace? I’ll say only this: it’s unforgettable. And, to register a criticism of Robert Ebert, I find Forest Gump far more inspiring as a role-model and source of that tinkling in the spine than Mickael Jordan fighting against his flu to beat the Utah Jazz. There’s no protest there, and, despite the case made by Ebert, it’s bargain basement heroism.
I wonder what Dean would say about Mona pondering a year of obligatory philosophy for soldiers? If she only knew how bored Dean was with religion classes, she might think twice before concluding that philosophy would be, once made obligatory and subjected to grades, something that might help our soldiers. Today soldiers don’t need obligatory philosophy to operate their conversion to a higher plane: circumstances in their theatres of operation are providing them with opportunities like that day in and day out. It’s called winning the battle for the hearts and minds of peoples. The Petraeus doctrine. One of the prouder moments of the American experience. And one that will send the philospher’s back to their drawing board.
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b.t. wall
March 10th, 2010 at 2:12 am
DID SOMEBODY SAY SOMETHING ABOUT A “LONG RUNWAY”…?
Like one of Pavlov’s dogs, Tom knows how to get me salivating instantly!
(He can also make me run around a ring and jump over stuff: the original one-trick pony. It is not a pretty sight.)
My favorite line from Forest Gump: “That’s all I have to say about that.”
Obviously, something I never say.
At any rate, I don’t need a long runway – a patch of dirt and an opening in the tree line will suffice.
GTC’s original ambivalence, his perpetual equivocation, comes shining through in this post.
He is an interpreter – a translator– to the bone.
(I am more the scorched-earth type. Fur-‘n-agin stuff.)
The devil’s advocate.
Back at Notre Dame, he was as much against the Vietnam War as any of the rest of his long-haired buddies (e.g., me) – but was also in ROTC.
HOW do you do that?
My two-bit psychoanalysis of this trait is that in the Collins family it was No.1 Son whose job it was to “interpret” Mary Ellen’s ranting – her Robert McNamara-esque decisions to defoliate half a psychological subcontinent in Catlin, her standard strategy of taking-no-prisoners, her willingness to “nuke” without a second thought. (One of my problems with this blog is that the woman I knew to be a force of nature – a Medea, a Medusa, a Meryl Streep - has been metamorphosed into Mrs. Fields!)
[NOTE: Please feel free to delete any or all of the above if I have crossed some line one does not cross – the Vietnam-era equivalent would be a “tripwire.”]
At Guantanamo, he would be on the side of the tortured and the torturers simultaneously!
In the dictionary, Tom’s picture is right next to “Stockholm Syndrome.”
The “Petraeus Doctrine”…? Please. Do not make me lose my lunch.
“Winning the hearts and minds” of the locals is one of the clichés of that long-ago jungle war. Along with “search and destroy,” “light at the end of the tunnel” and “pacification.”
Okay. Enough. The spittle is running down my cheeks and my tongue is hanging out quite unattractively.
I agree with my friend that a pre-combat course in philosophy would not profit anyone very much.
Post-combat, it might be just what the doctor ordered.
SHANTIH
btw
ps: I doubt George Thomas will conjure up my intervention as nonchalantly next time.
george t. collins
March 13th, 2010 at 4:02 am
I have two best friends, Brian and Bernard, and both have, in the past, felt a little like the character Durnwald in “Humboldt’s Gift.” And I’ve been known to display this daunting side too. “When I try to talk to him I feel that I’m playing the ping-pong champion of China. I serve the ball, he smashes it back, and that’s the end of that.” But perhaps because of the aging process, this feeling has been modified. There’s still the ring and the attraction of the back and forth that is as much bout as banter, but with something more that might be called peace of mind. I’ve never read a more convincing portrait of our mother than the one above. In her case, peace of mind comes with having forgotten this “side” of her joyous nature. She passed on to her son the capacity to simply forget how imperfect and slanted he was, growing up. “Growing Up All Wrong” to cite PJ’s favorite book on music in English. But when we say with Godard that we’re all still around, it means that our joyous natures are still too, lurking if not lurching or lashing out as before, but “there” as in “being there”! I’m having a ball commenting my friend Brian. His three comments so far are jems, as my ex-wife put it. Much to ponder there, as my sis says so often. I admit and confess to boundless optimism as concerns the transformation of the American military establishment. I can even foresee economic and cultural exchanges between Iran and Israel before the end of the decade. Because I believe the hearts and minds of people are intelligent when they’re awake. Not asleep, not forgetful, unwilling to accept no for an answer. I must say, to go along with the Janus-face portrait Brian sketches of me, that his list of expressions, “search and destroy,” “light at the end of the tunnel,” etc., sound Orwellian, and no doubt this will get worse before it gets better. But I wish today to come down on the side of the light at the end of the tunnel. If it happens once, it can happen again; if it happens to one person, it can happen in the world at large. Thanks Brian for rising to this occasion, once again.