h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

"All train compartments smell vaguely of s***, it gets so you don't mind it.That's the worst thing that I confess, you know how long it took me to get there...a long time.
When you die you're going to regret the things you don't do. Bad people go to Hell, I don't think so-you think that act that way...moralisis on Earth, Yes. I won't live in it.
Great meals fade in reflection, everything else gains.Want to know why? 'Cause its only food, this s*** we shovel in us keeps us going, it's only food. I mean, the great f***s you may have had: what do you remember about them? For me it's probably not the orgasm, some broads forearm on your neck, something her eyes did or there was this sound she made. For me, I'm laying in bed the next day. She brings me Cafe au Lait, gives me a cigarette, my balls feel like concrete.Eh?

What I'm saying is WHAT IS OUR LIFE? Our lives are looking FORWARD or looking BACK. THATS IT...wheres the moment?"

with thanks to David Mamet.

The moment...it's the unexpected that happens, like wandering into your garden and finding your favourite flower has blossomed or the birds have left you a of a mystery flower.
{I found a Solomon's Seal this Spring}

Contemplating thoughts and trying to make a decision when all of a sudden a butterfly flits past, or a robin makes an unexpected appearance.

Driving your parents to the shops {as I was this morning} when the sun's reflection catches your eye, shimmering on the full tide so you take a detour and park up on the promenade and drink in the gorgeous sight of the sun dancing on the water, which normally looks grey and cold, but this morning was silvery and quite magical.

And music... that's all in the moment.

I look into my grandson's eyes and I see my future and my past and my present all rolled into one.

As for sex, the physical act leaves no lasting impression - I remember better the kisses and cuddles, and the tenderness and shows of affection, the non-sexual things like hand-kissing or a shoulder-rub.

Every time a butterfly flaps its wings in Tokyo an old granny in Salford has a bilious attack....

Does someone as brilliant as David Mamet know that what they are writing is solid gold? Did he have any idea that Glengarry Glen Ross could make a spotty teenager from Leeds in England crease up with laughter, squirm in discomfort and revel in the razor sharp dialogue?
My bet is no, probably not. People with obscene talent rarely consider what they have done. Look at Kubrick, constantly moving in style and substance, never looking back and always looking forward. doubt if he ever watched his films after he was done with them.
He didn't have to because he had people like me willing to watch them over and over again. Always with jaw dropped in awe at how a single human being could do what he did.
Whether it be Kubrick or Mamet or Ennio Morricone or Marlon Brando, genius is elusive in many respects. I think Kubrick would probably have been brilliant at anything he put his hand to, he had that way about him, he had that intellegence and sense of self that I long for. Same with Brando, he never really repected his own talent and would probably have been as good a butcher as an actor.
I also find it interesting that both Woody Allen and Hunter S Thompson (another pair of genius's) considered a life of crime before they turned to art. Therefore, does that make a good criminal a genius at his work? Interesting thoughts.