before sunset

A little while back, Richard told me that it was strange to read my entry describing work because he wasn't used to me talking about science. He's right; I don't talk about science much. But, outside of work, I also rarely hear anyone else having conversations about science, "science people" included. People associate me with the humanities because that's what I like thinking and talking about. Up until very recently, I distinguished between humanities and science by feeling that I like studying the former and I like doing the latter. Having experienced both departments in college, I didn't think the two could be any more different. Now, outside the context of academics, it's amazing to see how one way of thinking that's fueled by a belief in objectivity and explanations is so closely tied to a mode of perception that's based on subjectivity and interpretation.

I remember learning about apoptosis, aka programmed cell death, in genetics freshman year. Individual cells commit suicide for the sake of the larger system. I'm a sucker for good stories about sacrifice--Casablanca, Tale of Two Cities, that sort of thing--so of course this all sounded heroic (on the most microscopic level possible). Then, while reading for work, I learned about necrosis, aka accidental cell death. It got me thinking about the analogous system of people, and not just the cells that comprise them. What's programmed and what's accidental? It seems simple to divide people into the same categories, suicide and accidents. But--thinking about it like that on a small scale in terms of cells is logical, yet thinking about it like that on a large scale in terms of people is a little scary. What I mean is, it makes sense that some cells need to be sacrificed to keep a person living. It's just as rational to imagine the same happening to people to keep the world running (to maintain stable population and competition, if you don't want to think about it with feeling; to give purpose to those who attempt to prevent it and those who offer consolation after the fact, if you do). But if you think about suicide as programmed, by whom or whatever, this means that the experiences and emotions of the individual person don't really matter. Potentially there could be no reason or cause for a person's death by unnatural and deliberate means--Aud mentioned this when she talked about Elephant, and Sarah brought up United States of Leland. Things just happen to keep things going while ending certain lives. None of these thoughts are new to anyone but they just never entered my mind via science before. One of my favorite lines from Fight Club comes to mind: "If you wanna make an omelette, you gotta break some eggs." It's interesting to think about, but despite all the theory and explanation, it still makes me a little sad.

So as nice as this mind-consuming work has been lately, the fact that it has been intense makes me really guard and love the time away from it. Hiking Mission Peak for the first time (after 18 years in Fremont) was really good for me. I haven't walked around an isolated outdoors area in the dark since TASP. Even though we never quite figured out where the top was supposed to be, the views were beautiful; I've never looked at my home from that perspective. Sarah pinpointed the nicest thing about it, though, when she said that it was a nice change of pace from school and work.

And of course, the walk-and-talk atmosphere reminded me of Before Sunset. I liked Before Sunrise a lot, but I really loved Before Sunset. I should relate more to the first movie since the characters are in their 20s and everything is hopeful, romantic and slightly idealized, all adjectives that describe my predominant outlook. But the setbacks, the experience, the anger and resentments of the second movie make it so much more poignant, and it's living through fiction like that that makes me want to go through the whole teen angst, broken heart, deadbeat job thing. I guess I tend to idealize all of the that, too.

What I really like about the movie is that the dialogue consists of things that you think all the time but wouldn't normally say because they're the type of things you believe are undeniably true one minute, then just as adamantly refute the next. It's hard to be spontaneous and honest with what you say aloud, because you think you should say what you believe in general rather than what you feel at the time. This hit me when Ethan Hawke says, "It's okay to want things as long as you don't get pissed when you don't get them." It's something I totally feel at certain moments but not something I entirely believe when I really think about it.

Mmm...I'm so ready for this weekend's road trip.