3-6-21:  Sometime during my teenage years I came to realize that my overdeveloped sense of fairness and justice and unnatural wrath against those without that “curse of conscious” would do me more harm than good, especially when it came to entertainment.  The love-of-my-life, my Bramble Bunny, would always tease me when she’d see me get upset at characters behaving so unnaturally, so illogically, so far against their own best interest that it actually caused me more discomfort than joy to watch certain shows.  Whenever I complained how yet another character walked right through an obvious crime scene to pick up the murder weapon with gloveless hands, as if he’d never seen that already play out on every crime show ever, it made me squirm because I knew that I, the viewer, would now be subjected to that same character having to clear his name.  What was worse?  Lazy writing, that we’re forced to root for and identify with a character so unbelievably stupid, or that people could be that stupid in real life?  But she’d always remind me, whatever they did, they did it because it was “in the script.”

            I’m trying to figure out if my latest favorite show, Billions, let me down with poor writing, or that I allowed myself to invest in characters over the course of three seasons that just behaved so out of the character that was developed for them that it reminded me of those characters in my own life in whom I invested my own time, energy, loyalty and, sometimes, my entire net worth, only to be blindsided and betrayed by them as well.  Am I taking a TV show too personally?  Of course I am, but that’s not the point. (Contrast that to another current favorite show, WandaVision, that also deals with denial and self-delusion and emotion and has such perfectly clever writing I can find no fault with at all!  And that animated “commercial”?  Oh, my freaking gosh!)

            I love Christopher Nolan, and I cherish all of his movies.  But the ease with which the Joker convinced Twoface to forgive his own psychotically evil malicious actions against him personally, and to work with him against the Batman was ridiculous, and was enough to tarnish the movie for me entirely.  Bad writing.  And I could almost believe that the guy set up to lose his potential fortune by the DA with that health food company with the illegal sabotage by the guy I could not help but admire up until that point for both his brilliance and love for Metallica (such a surprisingly nice touch) would accept a 30 million dollar bailout from that guy (I may have lost you, but I’m trying to make a point without spoiling too much) because he felt a bit desperate at that point, but I could not forgive his other two terrible decisions.  First, he learned directly from his fiancée that she wanted to marry him for his money.  Secondly, he decided to work against his friend because the saboteur offered him a fraction of the money he would have won back in civil court anyway, but was too impatient to wait for.  But what really pissed me off was that he went back to that beautiful bombshell gold-digger and reproposed with an obscene engagement ring supplied by said saboteur.  And when they hugged, he hardly even smiled, because he realized he had simply “won” her “love” and “commitment” to marriage with wealth and a worthless rock worth something only because most people agree that it should be worth something, and we’ve all been brainwashed into thinking that a big shinny rock symbolizes something other than horribly misguided priorities. 

            To sum it up, the “smarter” all these people are, the better they are at their jobs as the expense of fairness and justice, the better they are compensated.  But once they have everything, wealth becomes meaningless, winning is all that matters, and wealth and winning become so much more important than happiness and justice that they are willing to sacrifice all that actually matters—family, clean conscious, dignity and self-respect (winning a beautiful gold-digger or court case or another billion dollars at any cost)—in order to achieve a temporary ego boost.  When one has everything, the ego is all that is left.  And the ego can never be satisfied.  Like a spoiled child or the drug addict they likely will become, the more you give it, the more it wants.

            Am I disappointed in the show because its characters are letting me down in order to continue the plot, or might they still represent an amalgamation of their real-life counterparts, who will inevitably continue to let themselves down and everyone around them because as “brilliant” as they might appear in most aspects, their priorities are as funked up as an illiterate junkie on the streets?  What is true intelligence?  I would argue that the ability to be self-aware, good, loyal, and prioritize one’s values and achievements to ensure long-term happiness, satisfaction, and authentic self-love makes one infinitely more intelligent than a math genius who can make billions off the stock market and still loses his family and dies miserable and alone.

-Zen-

In lessons reinforced and direct messages from God through the random “movie of the day” at my gym, I present to you a generic action movie that begins with the “perfectly planed heist” that goes wrong when an innocent bystander dies and the henchmen attempt to kill the leader when he refuses to relinquish his share of the loot in order to “invest” it in their next big crime that should net them ten times as much.  In the dual lessons played out 27 million times before and will be 27 million more times in the future in both media and real life every day; “you can’t trust criminals,” and “easy money is never sustainable.”   It’s a generic plotline and not worth mentioning but for what happens later.  Unrelated to the movie, an idea pops into my head that could represent for me a huge potential risk and huge potential reward.  If I would have had the idea while manic, it would have been much easier to disregard.  But I’m depressed, and I shouldn’t be having such ideas.  I should reassure you that I’d be investing the bulk of the money I’d legally earn from the sale of my Annabelle house into another real estate deal with a realtor I think I can trust.  But until today, I had other plans for that money.  Just a few minutes after that idea on my second breath-controlled elliptical workout of the day involving real estate during a random movie, a real estate deal is mentioned in the movie for $17 million.  I consider “17” to be a second-tier type of message from God, not quite enough to give me the confidence I needed for my audacious idea.  Can you see where I’m going with this?  Can you see why it’s so important that my old private personal journal has after a 7-year slumber reawakened at a public blog?  And if the numbers weren’t enough, I went so far as to title my entire blog entry with it.  The very next house she attempted to sell Jason Statham was for…wait for it…27 million dollars.  Coincidence.  Yeah, sure.  It’s all just coincidence.  Except I’ve wanted to buy this property for years, but was unable to do so.  Now I am able to do so, but lacked the courage.  And I’ve wanted to absolutely give my heart and soul to God for my entire life, and just couldn’t overcome my intellectual skepticism until…until 5-27.  And I saw the first episode of Billions years ago as a promotion on another DVD series, and it stared two of my favorite actors and looked interesting as hell.  But I wanted.  I’m an incredibly patient man.  I haven’t been in love in 7 years, haven’t had successful sex since 2016 and she died last year, but not until I felt inspired to make peace with her after I learned from others that she had fallen on some hard times. 

            But just recently did Billions finally appear on Amazon Prime.  And just recently was I able to finally sell Annabelle.  And by complete random chance I even worked out at Retro Fitness, after I tried reenrolling there after feeling so badly burned by a racist at LA Fitness and once they called the police on me I knew I could never go back (long story).  And the only reason I went back to Retro was because Just Try Fitness closed down.  And the only reason I went back to Retro Fitness was because I sucked up my pride after feeling so spurned by a temporary employee that treated me like shit.  And all of these random acts lined up perfectly, precisely reflecting the number 27 million, and specifically a 27-million-dollar real estate deal, which happened just minutes after having the idea and specifically asked for a sign.  And remember, posted weeks ago, I specifically mentioned that I look for signed from God in the form of numbers, and that 27 was my number.

            I know this is long-winded poor writing, and I know I’d have to tighten it up before sharing it with anyone else in any sort of inspirational way or as further confirmation of my own faith.  But I couldn’t care less about writing quality at this point.  What I am doing in real time is creating a written record of my values, faith, and priorities in life.  Everyone lies, even to themselves.  But for anyone who cares to watch my hundreds of hours of videos or what will be thousands of pages of text about my core believes—among other things—that at the very least, I believe in myself and what I’m doing and that I’m self-aware to a fault.  This is how I work out my thoughts.  And I’ve made a decision.  And no matter how it eventually works out, I’ll be good with it.  Because my motives are pure, I’m acting on the best information (and signs) available to me, and I don’t believe in regrets. 

            Now I’m off for my evening walk and to converse with my dad and mother and real estate agent.  My mom’s not going to be happy that I can’t pay her some big lump sum from the sale of my house, but I can’t help but invest in the long game.  And as long as that game is honest and pure then that’s the only game worth playing.  I’m the man who held the marshmallow for 30 years…I can hold on a bit longer!