A Realisation

Ralph Fiennes wearing a sarong in The Constant Gardener

The politics department was having a 'finding your career' thing which I popped into the other day. Most of it was useless, but I found out that yours truly is a prime candidate to become a spy! Although that doesn't say a lot, because this is Canada. As you can see from the above poorly taken photo, reconnaissance would obviously not be my area of expertise. Come to think of it, I don't know what my area of expertise would be. My French is mediocre at best and insulting at worst. I think I'd be a liability more than anything else.

Anywho, by this point my loyal reader, you're probably wondering what Ralph Fiennes has to do with any of this. Well. Simple. He's won me over, and just by wearing a sarong. Ralph is an amazing actor, and we've been best friends since I had to watch Schindler's List a million times in order to 'prepare' for a role in grade 10 drama. (I use the term 'prepare' and 'role' really loosely in this context.) His portrayal of Amon Goeth was so spot on, he's creepED me out ever since, until he went native and wore a sarong.

Although I wasn't really feeling the whole shpiel on the big pharmaceuticals the 'Constant Gardener' was an excellent movie and waaay better than Beyond Borders. My BFF was understated and brilliant as usual. Rachel Weisz's character Tessa? To say she irritated me would be an understatement. She totally got under my skin for a myriad of different reasons.

You know how they say that the things that bug you about other people, are the same things you hate about yourself? Well. 'They' are pretty right. Tessa bugged me a lot because I saw flashes of myself in her. I am the idiot who goes and makes impassioned (read: psycho) speeches regardless of if my audience cares or not. It isn't unusual for me to adopt a patronising tone of voice and demeanor when it becomes obvious that you don't know jack about politics, yet still want to talk shop. The list is endless. She and I most importantly, share the same kind of selfishness that is always mistaken for 'goodness.'

People automatically assume that just because someone wants to dedicate their life to eradicating poverty in the third world, it makes them 'good' and 'kind.' God forbid that I'd want to go somewhere that's politically unstable because that would cause me to become 'noble' or 'selfless' which is just laughable. I don't by any means speak for the majority of people in my field of study, but I'd hazard to guess that a lot of people are in it for the same reason I am. Unending guilt.

I have a guilt complex that's so big, I might as well be Jewish. Remember, I'm the eternal pessimist, you come to me for your daily dose of cynicism and bitterness, thus far I've delivered. I know I'm not making any sort of difference in the world through my actions. In order for me to think like that I'd have to be an idealist. In actuality I'm just a person driven by guilt. You see I feel guilty that I have a life in the 'first world' when I could've easily been born into poverty. Life is funny like that, I know I don't deserve my silverspoon. As a result I can't live with the guilt of knowing that human suffering is going on while I stuff my face with cake. To alleviate that feeling, I've got to do something about it. I don't do this because I want to, it's because I have to. The feeling of being less guilty is great, almost like a natural high. We 'do gooders' are no better than junkies, we're just chasing the good feeling.

Kids, I'm shallow. My passion doesn't lay in helping other people, I'm about good music and clothes, but I hope that I'd be able to recognise genuine passion when I see it. Today I saw a particularly candid and brutal documentary on the genocide in Rwanda. As is often her wont, Professor Handley, who happens to be a white South African, stood up to wrap the class up after the video. While she was talking about the utter failure of humanity in Rwanda (which we all are well aware of,) she began to choke up and fight back her tears. Of course she tried to play it off by rustling some papers. The injustice was so palpable to her.

That's passion. It's passion like that which I wish I had. I guess I'll have to make do with alleviating my Jewish guilt instead.

And this post doesn't really make a lot of sense. Thank you if you've stuck this far ;)