In all seriousness, I am just sad all the time these days. Except when I'm laughing hysterically at all the sadness. It's maddening.
I was 9 years old when introduced to The Joker. And Joker was fucking cool. I sometimes wonder why I was so drawn to that character before I knew anything about madness / sadness. I was a child, for fuck's sake. When I saw Tim Burton's Batman movie back in 1989, I didn't know anything about Batman or Joker or comics or movies or anything really. But after I saw that movie in the theater, all I could talk about for months was Joker, Joker, Joker. Love that Joker.
Nicholson, Ledger, Phoenix, Hamill, they've all done a great job. Magnificent performances. I recite and imitate their lines all the time. But I still do my own Joker laugh. I generally don't let anyone hear it, but sometimes somebody says something so outrageously surprising and hilarious that I can't help but let it out. Ha ha ha. Hee hee hee.
At what point does laughing become unhealthy? I don't know.
Do Batman and Joker complete each other? Or do they make completion impossible? I don't know. It's interesting that they both have to wear a mask to be a freak. And they are both more comfortable being Batman and Joker than Bruce Wayne and … ???
Batman and Joker are an interesting dichotomy. One could argue that only one of them exists, and that the other is only a figment of imagination, or a dual personality, or a nagging conscience, or a dark desire, or a yearning to be somthing better, or ... whatever the fuck. It's complicated.
All I know is, the more time I spend alone, the more I want to embrace my Joker. Wear a purple coat. Wear clown makeup. Laugh manically. And watch everything go to hell. But I don't know why.
I don't think a virus or a bomb or a natural disaster or a space spore will end humanity. I think it's just simple sadness that will end it. It will be a slow descent, one that's already started, that will bring all sentient life to a point where everyone just gives up. Sadness will end the world. You heard it here first. But like, after you've heard it a million times before. Lol.
But yeah, sadness. I don't think there's anything more dangerous or lethal or smothering or extinguishing or finalizing (with a nonexistent "God") than sadness.
Maybe it's merely a failure on a planetary level. Or maybe a curse on our solar system. Or maybe it's all around our galaxy. Or maybe it means something more that we can't yet understand. Or maybe it's a fuckup and inherent in our entire fucking universe and crosses all dimensions. I'm drawn across the universe to a guy who literally shot his heart out with a shotgun in a Knoxville alley in 2010. He took a shotgun and shot the bullet through his heart. That is not fucking around. That is not reaching for attention. That is an ending.
I miss you, Mark. I miss you so fucking much. We all do. David and Scott and Jason and John and Brian and Nina and Tom and Thom and Frank and Wayne and Daniel and everyone. Sparklehorse was something all your own. Your music will never be duplicated. Timeless and timely and sad and unsure and questioning and mysterious and … Sparklehorse.
Interstellar, the film, says that love can transcend dimensions of time and space, that it's observable and powerful, so ... can't sadness do the same thing? Hasn't sadness made as much of an impact on your life as love? Why does sadness stick around when we (usually) want it to go away? I say usually because I'm crazy about my sadness. I fucking love what it brings to me. I happily drown in that shit and just want more.
Sadness rules the world as we know it. Not love. That's a shitty thing to think about. But here we are.
It's a sad and beautiful world.
