There are many rote analogies that are summoned by the reigning powers of feature film entertainment to serve up before us all on the big screen in Dinkytown. One in particular has the generic hero being caught in some way upon a runaway train where they are subject to some form of ultimately self-destructive danger. The inference being that there is only a single path for one to follow while attempting to escape or perhaps even to pursue one’s ultimate goal. The usual crisis point comes to the appreciation of public consciousness as a very high precariously posed bridge over an abyss. The hero is generally cast into the drink below into a life to death to life transition. Even if the avatar escapes this fate, they are irrevocably changed by this skin of the teeth escape. The key factor in all of this is that of being locked into something that one cannot escape yet being propelled forth to a rendezvous that is inevitable.
There are so many meanings that can be gleaned from this repetitive scenario, one of the more underlying metaphors coming in the form of some sort of birth canal based struggle where the protagonist somehow is considered as the catalyst to the process of a fertilization that will leads to a significant change for the good or rebirth for the world in general. The hero is tasked with protecting the engine that will accomplish this feat and is challenged to lay down their life, or perhaps avoid same, in the process. The protagonist struggles with their arch enemy and ultimately defeats or defies their power.
The driving force behind this potent analogy is that once you are onboard, you can no longer escape your ultimate destination and/or fate. The fact that one can also ponder upon is why be on a train at all. What happened to meandering all those journeys through the question mark of the universe at large? Now we seem forcefully encouraged, or condemned to challenge our existence upon a single causeway where the conclusions seem all to obvious. A journey that is certainly understandably not of our own making. Our collective myths seem accompanied by someone else’s pan pipe. For those in the audience that have not lived through more kinder and gentler times of mass media inspired hallucinatory eras, might I suggest that reality does embrace the chaotic notion of wandering about on one’s own ever facing the fog of one’s own uncertain existence. We are caught up however in the press of the indoctrination of our species that would ever personally enlist us in the notion that we are a herd rather than that enigmatic single entity of the self. Told unceasingly by the powers that be , “that WE can MAKE a difference”, as if our own paltry presence on the earth is not enough in itself.
It seems odd that so many are addicted to supporting this infernal contention by continuing to purchase so many electronic assisted instruments that only tend to remind us of our own insignificance and spend so much of our own private time staring dumbly into their screens hoping to glean some sort of clue that will theoretically aid our own individual sense of escape.