Or maybe I can do this. Who the fuck ever knows?

Stranger Than Fiction. I was going to write this whole post about it and why I love it, but it turned into a really bad post that I don’t want to write and so instead I’m going to just post two bits from it that will hopefully not be totally nonsensical.

First: When I first saw the movie, I was really happy that Harold lived at the end, but now I almost wish he hadn’t. I was going to say I have a different reason for wanting him to die than Kay Eiffel does, but maybe that’s not true. Why does she kill all her protagonists? Professor Jules Hilbert thinks it’s because she’s brilliant and it’s just how her books have to end, although he never cares to explain to us why. But I suspect he’s a fraud for reasons I can’t remember right now, and anyway it’s sort of jerky to say some guy has to die just because someone wrote a good story about him dying. The real reason she kills her protagonists is that she doesn’t want to be alive and yet doesn’t want to kill herself, so she dies vicariously through her characters. Right?

Second: Even though he lives apparently happily ever after, it’s still a sad ending for me because I’ve lived his life… not literally, obviously, but the part where I have Asperger’s Syndrome and shuffle through a fairly empty life with no real close friends, until suddenly one day I meet someone who gets through all my autistic-spectrum weirdness and obsessions and rituals and causes me to do painfully earnest things like buy her flours (hee hee) and say painfully earnest things that I don’t even really understand and yet know I have to say. I can’t really explain this, but if you’ve seen the movie then you know what I’m talking about. Harold and Ana get a happy ending, which is one really nice perk of being characters in a made-up story, because out here in reality you have to keep going after the happy ending to the part where you find out that being higher on the autistic spectrum than most people is a bad idea if you want to sustain a long-term relationship. Oh well.

I need to figure out why I want to blog. Or if I want to. Way back when, almost four years ago now, I think Rose and I started blogging as a creative project to keep us together even when we were physically separated while I was still in college and she had finished and moved away. We kept that going at Peiratikos for a long time, but I gradually gave it up and now I think she’s probably given it up as well. That’s too bad, but that’s life. Now I’ve started this blog here, mostly because Rose thought I ought to get back to blogging. Actually, entirely because of that. I never came up with my own reason to get back to it. I need to do that.