…those itty bitty things. It’s those little things that piss me off.
I don’t typically get very angry about things. Whenever I do, it rarely lasts very long. I can’t say that I’m really “over it” per se, but I have gotten past the initial knee-jerk reaction of the thing. Here, let me ruin a movie for you.
Seven Pounds is about a man who is out to help several people turn their disease-ridden lives around. His plan is to find people to whom he is a donor match, then he’s going to kill himself so those people can have his parts. What a hero! A man’s going to commit suicide, which is bad, terrible, no good. But wait! There’s more! He’s going to donate his parts to other people, so that’s okay. That’s right. Because none of us could find them before, Seven Pounds points out to us all the redemptive qualities of suicide.
Now, I realize that murder, violence, etc have been glorified in movies for years, but there just seems something different about treating suicide the same way. I mean, when do we get to see the redemptive qualities of child molestation or rape or elder abuse? I mean, those are all taboo, so they’re bound to be packed with oh so subtle redemptive qualities, right? Right?
Maybe suicide just hits me a little too close to home. I’ve been close. Too close. And whenever I see it being portrayed as something to strive for, something heroic, I guess I just get a little up in arms. I just fail to see how that message could be portrayed as heroic. Again: I understand my hypocrisy in my having no problems with the murder and violence being glorified, but there just seems to be something so different with suicide.
Thoughts?
