The Invention of Lying

Have I told you about Netflix? *Bimbo voice on* Gosh, sweetie, it's only, like, the most amazing thing to arrive on the internet since three-way midget porn. Okay imagine all your favourite TV shows, movies, documentaries (can anyone really have a favorite documentary? I would if they did an insightful piece on offensive tattoos that features the word 'grandma', but till then...), whatever. Now imagine them all on the same website, categorized into hundreds of sub-genres and most ready for instant viewing, all for the insubstantial price of $10 a month. Now considering that one season of any show costs at least $50 to $60 on DVD, a subscription to Netflix is practically a steal, seeing how you have un-friggin-limited access to any show you can think of. 

For shows that you can't stream on Netflix, you can have the DVD shipped to your place of residence, one disc at a time. The cleverly designed envelope doubles as a return-envelope as well, with the postage already paid and everything. They have a queue you can line up your wish-list on, and they'd just ship it to you one by one, every time you return the previous disc. If you're fast, you could probably receive up to 3 DVDs in one week. They have a 'predictive-suggestion' system, meaning they'd judge your tastes based on what shows you've watched and how you've rated it, and suggests films for you based on your perceived tastes. 'Woman On Top' is a top pick for me. They clearly don't know me well enough. 

Their 'Taste Preferences' survey can get a little intense. Netflix seems to have monopolized the market in sub-categorizing movies, so if you want a 'steamy' 'cult' 'thriller' with a 'father-son' and 'dinosaur' storyline, released in the '1950s' featuring 'deadly disasters', 'martial arts' and 'sacred classical music' with a 'Jewish' culture preference and 'hip-hop and contemporary dance', based on 'classic literature', you can probably find it. And while we're at it, why not throw in a 'Polish' language preference just for the hell of it. 

I've been doing some first-rate procrastinating since the discovery of Netflix, and have been watching some utterly fantastic shows including Drop Dead Diva, Parks & Recreation and Better Off Ted, but what really caught my attention was the Ricky Gervais comedy, The Invention Of Lying. Sure, it's not the funniest thing ever made, nor was it very aesthetically pleasing with Ricky Gervais as the lead, but it was definitely thought-provoking and original, and you know how I love having my thoughts tickled and provoked, and often stimulated. And aroused. 

So the movie. It's set in an imaginary world where lying doesn't exist, and everyone has to tell the absolute, cold, hard truth. This is where most of the humor stems from, as waiters greet their patrons with 'this is a demeaning job and I hate it, and you're very attractive, which makes me hate myself even more', instead of the usual pleasantries. This is a universe where niceties are never uttered for niceties' sake, and every word out of their mouths is an uncensored reflection of what they're really saying. 

Ricky plays Mark, the only guy in the world that has figured out how to tell a lie. And because everyone only tells the absolute truth, no one questions any of his lies. He tells an attractive woman that unless they have sex immediately, the world will end, and she literally drags him to a motel and screams at him to get naked for the sake of all the children. Mark initially abuses his new-found powers of deceit to get obscenely rich at a casino, but soon realizes that little white lies can brighten up the lives of people around him, even dissuade his neighbor from committing suicide, especially since they sincerely believe that things will get better. 

The real message Gervais is pushing becomes clear halfway through the movie, where Mark's mom lies dying in the hospital bed. She says that she does not want to face death if it means spending an eternity of nothingness, so Mark lies and comforts her by making up a 'heaven', where everyone who's ever died will be there, and you would be filled with warmth and joy, surrounded by the people and things you love. The surrounding doctors and nurses hear what he's saying and is utterly bewitched. Unbeknown to him, he has just started the first religion.

Things steadily get out of hand from there, as he gets pressurized by the crowds to write the 'ten commandments', do a sermon on the hill, basically satirizing Christianity and God, or as Mark called it, Man Living In The Sky. The lack of logic in religion comes up, as the crowds question the sheer absurdity of this religion, and in one memorable scene, the furious crowd all raise middle fingers at the sky and shout 'Fuck you, man in the sky!' (They were just told that The Man In The Sky was responsible for every bad thing that ever happened to them, including cancers and natural disasters.)

It's not hard to see why a movie like this wouldn't be universally well received. Christian groups utterly hated it for suggesting that the bible wasn't written by a drunk who was just making things up to see what he could get away with, and for basically saying that everything they stood for was made up because we feared death. As illustrated in the movie, something meant to console someone in pain eventually turned on itself and consumed its followers with its ridiculous rules of 'three strikes and you're in hell' ("like baseball!") and for promoting the idea of complacency. Why do anything now if you can enjoy an eternity of bliss in heaven?

I've never been a fan of sugar-coating words, so all that cutthroat honesty was truly delicious and refreshing for me. I don't want to be mean, I just want to be able to extend the courtesy of truth, and have others do the same for me. Of course I want to hear it if my attractiveness is making someone feel threatened and insecure, are you kidding me? And I would reciprocate by telling them that they have absolutely nothing to worry about, because they can spend their lives trying to catch up with me and never make it, so why even be stressed out about it at all. 

Go on, tell me I'm hateful. *Bright smile*

"A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds"

Who doesn't despise a pretentiously elitist 'oh look at me I'm in college and well educated' boy dangling big quotations around as if he understands it, when it's obvious he doesn't and is just trying to make you feel bad too? Yeah, no one wants to be that guy, but I'm stepping up to the plate and claiming that unwanted throne for myself. It's basically the gist of what the quote advocates, that conformity and desperate yearning to fit in is a ridiculous concept. Either that, or little goblins are taking over the world. That's right - back off, nonexistent competitors, for James is ready to be that guy.

I'll admit it, I was terrified of standing out. Who wouldn't like to simply two-step into a new environment and be absorbed instantly into the established cliques. So I started telling myself I can sit through another inanely boring football game, another pointlessly unfunny "approved-by-the-masses" movie, just so I'd be viewed as "one of us". I was so concerned about how I appeared to an outsider.  Sure, I had sat there for hours, drinking and laughing along, appearing for all intent and purposes one of the gang. But not for one moment did I really feel like I was where I needed to be. I had forgotten my own mantra, that it is the ikran that chooses you, not the other way around. (I'm sorry, that might have been from Avatar.)  Only when you're really comfortable with who you are, will you find company that truly matches your interests. I was so preoccupied with how I was being viewed, that I forgot that all that didn't matter if I wasn't viewing myself favorably.

Obviously, I wasn't sinking into a pit of self-loathing, I'm way too narcissistic for that. What I was doing, however, was censoring and twisting my true self to fit the norm here. Anyone who really knows me would find the very idea of me conforming to be highly amusing, and it's partly embarrassing to admit that I have been trying. But as all deep-rooted personalities go, I'm most comfortable when I'm not just one of the crowd. There's really nothing I like more than to be regarded as very different in a quirky and lovable manner, the way I have been perceived all these past years. Disregard any tags from people claiming I'm a monster, they are all high on THC and cannot be trusted.

I don't fit in - that's always been my thing. I scorn the common passers-by with my small group of equally delightful friends, celebrating differences instead of trying to quash them. I need to find that snarky bitch inside me again, and unleash it onto the unsuspecting Madisonian public. In small doses at first, I'd think. "Is that the fastest you can pack, you dim-wit llama? Oh I apologize, is that very rude of me? Yes by credit card please. I SAID paper bag. Does your bulbous forehead not contain a little piece of brain tissue? Thanks, you have a great day too!"

That might be slightly bipolar, but you get the picture. I don't have to like the messy game of football just because I live among the country's most raucous fans. I don't have to pretend that the only thing I'm celebrating today isn't the return of Glee and not the Superbowl. I am not ashamed to stand up and let it known across the land that the only superbowl I'm interested in is a superbowl of nachos and cheese. I came to America in search of diversity, and perhaps now I'm finally getting used to the idea.  It has never felt better to say that I'm not one bit like any of them, and I couldn't be prouder.