A Fool's Gambit

The beliefs which we have most warrant for, have no safeguard to rest on, but a standing invitation to the whole world to prove them unfounded. If the challenge is not accepted, or is accepted and the attempt fails, we are far enough from certainty still; but we have done the best that the existing state of human reason admits of; we have neglected nothing that could give the truth a chance of reaching us: if the lists are kept open, we may hope that if there be a better truth, it will be found when the human mind is capable of receiving it; and in the meantime we may rely on having attained such approach to truth, as is possible in our own day. This is the amount of truth attainable by a fallible being, and this is the sole way of attaining it.

-John Stewart Mill, On Liberty

Here's a site with more photos from the Wounded Warriors Disabled Scuba Project dives last weekend.

http://picasaweb.google.com/juliacmetcalfe/GTMOSCUBAJan31Feb52008

Ahh, I'm exhausted. I've spent the past four days working with a program called Wounded Warriors, or alternately SUDS (Soldiers Undertaking Disabled Scuba). It was a blast, rest assured. But lugging gear, diving two and three times a day, giving scuba instruction, lugging gear back, washing gear, shindigs, parties, Superbowl parties, and on and on and on... Let's just say I'm looking forward to my bed tonight.

The details: 6 soldiers (well, at least one was a Marine, but let's not quibble) injured in the line of duty. One was in a training accident in California, the others were in Iraq and Afghanistan. All are amputees, ranging from half of a foot to both legs above the knee. I worked with Igor, a Russian immigrant who was 'only' missing one leg below the knee. He lost it in Afghanistan in a fire fight. If you see him in long pants, you might notice a little limp, but you might just think he was strutting. He had a prosthesis specially made for swimming. The first training dive, I was a little cautious and went slow, not being sure exactly how fast he could swim, or if he would have issues with stamina. It turns out I didn't have anything to worry about. He can swim faster than me, and would probably outlast me, too. He went through air a little quickly, but all new divers do that, so I'm not too surprised about that. On boat dives he did a seated forward roll, but other than that, there were no issues. He climbed up the ladder with his scuba gear on. On beach dives he would go in and out of the surf zone unassisted. It was really unbelievable what he was capable of.

This is Igor and me at the Superbowl party. He's Russian, so you know there's an alcoholic beverage just outside of frame.

Even though Igor was my main charge, I also worked with others, helping the two divers who used only one leg underwater in and out of the water. (They were above the knee amputees.) I helped with gear assembly and the aforementioned lugging of gear to and from the dive sites and in and out of the water for some of the 'more' disabled participants. Still, all of these guys were totally at home in the water. Not one of them was an 'instructional challenge', and all seemed very comfortable with their limitations, comfortable asking for help, and comfortable asking to be let alone to do something themselves. Before meeting them, I was worried that I would be ill-at-ease around them, and that might put them in the same mood. But they all had great senses of humor. My favorite remark of the whole trip was made on the first day, as we were getting off the boat for the first dive. Josh, the double-leg amputee waddled up to the edge and said, "Hey, check it out, it's 'Dorf on Diving'!"

All told we did nine dives, including the 4 dives for the Open Water certification, a night dive, and four fun dives. And all I got was a lousy t-shirt. And these photos below. And great memories to last a lifetime. Was that too hokey? That sounds too hokey.

This photo doesn't really fit, but this is the first time I've been out to the cemetery here on base. It's in an area that's usually restricted, but I got to check it out on the way to our dive site today. I think most of the people buried there are from the Spanish-American War and the first couple decades of the 20th century.

Today I watched a brilliant film by the name of Rocket Science. The box likens it to Rushmore, The Squid and the Whale, and other 'coming of age' movies. That's true, but only in a superficial sense. They all are about adolescent boys coming to terms with the fact that life is not as it should be. Of taking the first steps toward Adulthood. But while Rushmore is constructed as a blatant comedy, taking the story over the top (as an aside, I've always described Wes Anderson's movies as real characters forced to act out a play written by a fourth grader), and The Squid and the Whale places itself in the world of what the Republicans would call the 'learned aristocracy in New York', Rocket Science is grounded in the suburbs of New Jersey, and is a comedy primarily in the Shakespearian sense of the word.

The film revolves around Hal Hefner, a young high school student with a speech impediment. After being pulled up on stage during a school production teaching about the Lincoln-Douglas debates (and failing to be able to say the line, "a house divided against itself cannot stand"), a girl, Ginny, takes him under his wing to be her policy debate partner. He falls madly in love with her, and dedicates himself to becoming a good debater. She moves to a private school, leaving him feeling betrayed. This provokes a downward spiral, a cello through a living room window, and eventually a plan to get even.

The story in and of itself is fantastic. The cinematography is absolutely wonderful. There are lots of wide shots with very few people in them, visually isolating Hal to complement his emotional isolation. It's the little touches, the flourishes, really, that make the film. I'm a huge fan of symmetry. It rises to the point of being obsessive-compulsive at times. But it's not so much visual symmetry that I look for, as temporal symmetry. Points on the rising side of a story arc must be placed in contradistinction to points of the falling side of the arc. Early on, Hal recovers Ginny's stolen necklace from his brother and returns it, saying he stole it. After being let down, he steals Ginny's debate trophy, and when he finally returns it, you know where the story stands on the back side of the story arc. The fact that Hal's crush begins with Ginny waving over her shoulder without looking back and ends with him waving over his shoulder in the same way gives me enormous satisfaction. Indeed, that wave is the only closure in an otherwise open-ended film. A chapter in Hal's adolescence has come to an end, but he by no means has grown up.

The soundtrack for the majority of the film is superb, and sets the tone beautifully. It includes some fantastic Violent Femmes pieces in various incarnations, where the jilted, edgy rhythms underscore the near-manic tension of the protagonist. But there is a Clem Snide song used twice that didn't seem to fit musically - although the lyrics did. Its use as the closing number was decidedly disappointing.

The script was obviously written by someone with an ear for dialog. It seems as if every word is there for a reason - even Hal's stuttering causes him to repeat phrases in a pointed and sometimes poignant way. Every scene pushes Hal's character towards his cello-tossing climax, and each scene lets him down gently from there on out.

I've simplified much - there are a dozen other major characters, and each is distinct, well-written, and excellently portrayed by the capable actors cast for this film. As it is, I've divulged too much of the plot. But while the plot is solid and enjoyable, it's truly the little details that make this movie stand out as a gem in the rough.

I've been playing video games for over 20 years. I've never been injured. Sometimes I'd get a cramp. But now, we have the Wii. Now we have Rock Band and Guitar Hero.

I pulled a muscle playing Tiger Woods 08 on the Wii. How embarassing is it to pull a muscle playing a fake version of the wussiest sport on the planet? I play golf. I play golf a couple times a week when I can manage. My friends who have never played golf score better than me on the video golf.

[Tangent: Ever see the Jeepers Creepers 'rock opera' from Mr. Show? Judas: 'Your parents speak of kicking us out while you play video golf and get high all the ti-i-i-i-ime' (pulls television plug) JC: 'NO! I WAS ON THE 18TH HOLE!]

Then. Then.... Today I played Rock Band for the first time. I play the guitar. I have been remiss in my playing lately, but I've still got a small callous on my thumb. But 'strumming' this 'guitar' for Rock Band is different.

John Lennon screams: "I've got blisters on my fingers!"

Let's zoom in for a close up there:

All of my friends have been playing this for days. I get a blood blister in 25 minutes. Obviously my playing style needs some work.

The only solution: Practice.