So, I am certain everyone has had someone in their life at some point say, “Life is what you make it.” I personally have heard it hundreds of times and I am guilty of speaking it on more than a handful of occasions. But life is not always that simple, is it? We as sentient beings are more than just bones and membranes walking on a path that hands us only true or false questions. At best life is a contrived, misleading multiple-choice test with one big last essay question that is ultimately pass or fail.
Now, of course, that synopsis is ridiculous. Life is not a test; it is a journey. And there are no right or wrong answers on what that journey should be. There are only opinions. I am off on this wild philosophical tangent because it has been a day of contradiction for me. It feels like every decision I have made over the past few months (or maybe even years) is dangling over my head like a wrecking ball. And the funniest part? It is all Ricky Gervais’ fault. Having someone to blame is just delicious, don’t you think?
British Comedian, Ricky Gervais, created, directs, and stars in the Netflix Original Series “After Life.” It is a story about a common, everyday kind of funny guy who loses the love of his life to cancer. It is listed as both a drama and a comedy, with the words ‘Deadpan, Witty, Irreverent' as identifiers for its content. That alone ignited the sense of contradiction that seems to be overwhelming me.
First and foremost, I love this series. Yes, wit and laughable characters are ever-present. But for me, it is raw and emotional. Everything that affects us in life is attributable to relatability. His loss outweighs anything meaningful for him and so his humor becomes his only coping mechanism. If you have ever lost someone very important to you this character’s pain is either deep-seated in your soul or lodged just beneath your skin. Some will not like this dark, offbeat dramedy but to me, it is hauntingly brilliant.
As I thought about the sadness and silliness of Season Three, it occurred to me that almost everything in my life relates. It is either sad or silly, or laughably disgusting. And that is okay. My feelings do not have to relate to anyone else’s feelings. Why is that such a hard concept to swallow? Why do people have to sling negativity like their opinions are the only ones that matter?
On a local city Facebook page today, someone posted that our city was boring. More than one person had to chime in with the response, “so move.” And I wanted to scream, “Hey. They have an opinion. If you are so inclined to browbeat someone for an opinion, leave the group.” Why couldn’t they reply with reasons why they disagree that it is boring and have a civil debate? I will never understand the arrogance of those blinded by their own self-importance.
So, I just threw my happy-go-lucky Little Mary Sunshine of a presence right out the window, huh? I do love life and all its mysterious quirks and mystical aberrations. Maybe if I just knew, for sure, that my decisions have been for all the right reasons contradiction would not bite at the belly of this beast. Ah, but that is fodder for yet another rant.
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