Friday, April 10, 2015

I Don't Know What This Is.


But it's something. 

I have been thinking about this weird phenomenon that happens to me all the time (and I'm sure happens to everyone to some degree). I had wanted to write something about it a while back but never got around to it until tonight when it happened again. Basically, there's this interesting thing that happens every now and again when everything I've been doing or reading or watching or whatever all connects in a strange, unrelated way. 

Occasionally, it's pretty mild. Like today for instance. I was looking for something to listen to while I washed dishes and because I am up to date on all of the podcasts I subscribe to, I decided to check out the back catalogue of The Joe Rogan Experience. And, for whatever reason, I was drawn to the episode where he talks to Marc Maron of the WTF Podcast. And it's a great episode! But what really stood out to me in the interview is Maron's stories about hanging out with late comedian Sam Kinison. 

Now, I don't know much about Kinison other than the standard stuff any fan of comedy knows. But hearing Maron talk about the wild escapades he had with Kinison just fascinated me. And so I was again drawn, this time to Reddit where, as is my go-to, I typed Sam Kinison into the search bar and sorted by top entries first. After reading a bunch of random articles and posts about Kinison, I came upon this article about the day he died. At the end of that story, there's this incredibly sad retelling of how Kinison spoke to an unseen presence in his final moments, asking why now and, after appearing to listen, accepting his fate and passing away. It was such a weird, depressing story and to cheer myself up I decided to search for Sam's name in the StandUpComedy subReddit in the hopes of finding some of his best material. But before I could even look anything up, there's the top post of the day.

"23 years ago today, the world lost Sam Kinison. RIP."

The day I happened to choose that particular episode of Joe Rogan's podcast. The day I happened to latch so firmly onto the stories Marc Maron was telling about Kinison. The day that I decided to go down the Reddit rabbit hole to find out more about this stand up comedy legend. The day I found an article about his death that depressed me so much that I needed to seek out the positives he created just happened to be the anniversary of that terrible day. 

And it's strange how that stuff works. There are strange connections like that that happen to me all the time and I'm still not sure why. I know there are weird perception phenomena like Baader-Meinhof, but this just doesn't feel like that. Why was I compelled to do the things that ended me up where they did? Why did I have the presence of mind at 15 before midnight to realize how weird it is that it happened? 

I don't know. But I know that it happens.


When I first wanted to write about this it was for a whole other reason. It all started with Stephen King's newest short story (it might not be now at the rate he writes) in the New Yorker called "A Death." The story has this fascinating structure where King manipulates you as the reader into believing that this guy who is being accused, convicted and ultimately hanged for the murder of this 10 year old girl is innocent. But it turns out he was guilty all along.

So, there's this weird theme about perception and how we view the justice system and the people on trial. It's kind of like this Schrodinger's Cat effect where Trusdale, the accused in the story, is simultaneously guilty and innocent and the only way to find out which one it truly is, is to open the box (i.e. kill him, which ultimately leads to the discovery of the little girl's coin that had been missing, seemingly proving that Trusdale did in fact murder her).

What I find intriguing about it is the idea that even someone who is convicted of a crime (and actually committed it), but who is convicted in an unlawful manner like is done in the story (biased jury, prosecutor acting as judge, etc.), even if the jury got it right, the act of conviction itself is still unjust.

Everything is about perception and the fact of the matter is that human beings can be unfair regardless of innocence or guilt. They can perform a witch hunt like the folks in the story who damned Trusdale to die the moment his hat was discovered at the crime scene. They can murder little girls without any conscience like Trusdale did. And they can sympathize with a man who murders little girls like the people that read King's story. None of it makes any sense, but we can all relate because of our perception.

Then, that same evening, I started reading about the O.J. case. Not because my interest was sparked from the ideas above, I didn't pick those up until all of this came into focus. I started reading about the O.J. case because Elizabeth mentioned a new show that I mistook for the upcoming American Crime Story about the O.J. trial. Regardless, I was off on another tangent and here we go again.

Here is another trial, eerily similar to the one in "A Death," I realized. Black man murders a white victim (allegedly), he is beloved to so many people but hated by so many others, pleads innocent and is ultimately freed (the only portion majorly deviating from Trusdale) and it's all based on perception. With the O.J. trial you had two very clearly disparate groups of people - One in which people rallied around O.J. immediately and steadfastly championed his innocence. One in which people damned O.J. as soon they saw his white Bronco speeding down that L.A. freeway. But then there were the people like the Sheriff in "A Death" who look at the evidence (or lack thereof) and are genuinely conflicted about whether or not this person is guilty or innocent. And regardless of what type of person you're dealing with, what they believe is all based on their own personal perception of what they're seeing and feeling in the moment.

But, like I said, I didn't put all these pieces together until I was reading the booklet that came with the Criterion Collection edition of David Lynch's film Eraserhead. And lo and behold as I read it what do I come across? An interview where Lynch is talking about the film and references, of all things, the O.J. trial. And what does Lynch happen to be talking about in relation to the trial? Perception, of course. 

In the interview, Lynch remarks about how like with movies, people watching and reading about the O.J. trial experienced all of the same things as everyone else watching and reading about it. They heard all the same words and testimonies. They saw all the same witnesses and expressions, all of the same anger and frustration, all of the same evidence and yet they all came away with completely different interpretations of O.J., of what happened and of the truth.

Like with Sam Kinison earlier, I find it extremely interesting and slightly creepy when this happens to me. But I believe it happens for a reason. There's a reason I read that short story that evening even though I knew about it for a week prior. There's a reason Elizabeth mentioned that show and I mistook it for another one and went for a trip down the O.J. rabbit hole. There's a reason why I didn't read that David Lynch interview the same night I watched the movie and saved it for the same evening that all of that other stuff happened. Just like there's a reason I was drawn to that particular podcast, that particular subject, that particular article and that particular subReddit about Sam Kinison on what happened to be the anniversary of his death. There's a strange, unknown, maybe even cosmic reason that these things happen like they do and I know that there's something to be gained from my realization of these connections. There's a reason for all of this.

But, you know, that is just my perception.