Doom Reels
At one point last night I woke up. My hard drive started to spin almost immediately. Within seconds, it was reminding me of everything I need to get done this coming week, not to mention things I haven’t gotten done, should have gotten done, and how I was a complete loser for not having gotten those things done. I hope all those tenses are right. Jesus, grammar is hard. Regardless, every time my internal IMAX theater showed me a picture (and it’s amazing I can see things in the dark), I felt a little jolt of energy. Which, if I had to break it down, would be equal parts shock, guilt, feeling like a dope, and resignation that everything will never get done. It’s a recipe for being an adult in the modern world.
The curious thing is that during the greatest mishits loop, I caught myself in the act. I immediately stopped the reel and responded with something along the lines of “wait a second,” “hold the phone,” and the ever-popular “what the hell?” I quickly followed that by posing the question of why these mental doom reels tend to happen at night. Later, in the light of day, these error-capades usually fizzle into a short list of emails that need to be written, phone calls that need to be made, or finishing up a writing project for a client. So there’s no climbing El Capitan holding an anvil or jumping out of a plane with a Bev Nap for a parachute.
The question remains. Why do these internal doom reels happen at night, especially when we’re trying to sleep. What’s the point? How could they possibly do us any good? Odds are we already know about the things that make the show. Sure there can be a surprise. That guy. In the restaurant. He didn’t pay his check (inside Disney reference).
Beyond the content, what’s curious is all the little jolts of fear energy that accompany the incidents on these doom reels. And they’re not just restricted to the dark awake hours. We experience them in varying degrees throughout the day. While there may not be so much juice attached to them, they still happen constantly.
· The milk could be bad. Don’t drink it!
· I forgot to empty the trash.
· Look out for all the crazy morons driving on I25!
· I need to start my taxes.
I could go on, but it’s tedious and boring. Besides, anyone reading this has their own set of variations on a similar theme. Now back to the ranch style. Where did this fear-jolt response come from? My hunch is that it’s ancient mainframe programming having to do with survival. From the first time one of our very distant ancestors managed to crawl out of an ancient swamp on their teeny tiny wiggly limbs, they were probably befraught with impulses registering fear.
“OH MY GOD IT’S BRIGHT OUT HERE AND THERE’S NO WATER! BACK! BACK! GO BACK TO THE BIG WETNESS!”
Big wetness, that’s one for the Freudians. Otherwise, the mini-nervous system jolts must be a survival mechanism. Even our early hominid ancestors must have had them. In fact, they were probably masters at being scared witless half the time. Just look at the beginning of Kubrick’s 2001, when the tribe of ape men and women slept in the hollow of some rocks and listened to large beasts roar and otherwise make a racket all night.
Maybe my nights of interrupted sleep go all the way back to Moonwatcher. He’s the guy in the movie who brained the other ape man at the water hole with a femur, committing the first murder in history. He’s also responsible for taking the murder weapon and tossing it into the air, resulting in the greatest match cut edit in the history of filmmaking.
Moonwatcher’s life would have been a never-ending succession of fear jolts, all of which served to keep him alive. Remember what things are edible. Recognize signs of danger before they recognize you. And stay away from that burning lake of lava. No wait, that was Donkey and Shrek. Meanwhile, Moonwatcher’s early warning system, good as it probably was, didn’t always serve him well. Nature could always throw a curve, like the leopard that jumped on him from a ledge above. Mind you that was a real leopard they used in the movie, not to mention a real actor in the ape man suit. How did they get that guy to do it? They must have paid him time-and-a-half.
Given the previous, I decided to have a chat with my internal projectionist. I thanked them for their unflagging work on my behalf. And how their doom reels serve to remind and prompt. But I also said my being in bed at night with my eyes closed had nothing to do with watching movies made for the conscious mind and waking hours. So onay oremay ightnay oviesmay, or no more night movies (I used a Pig Latin translator). Instead, present me with a to do list in the morning. After all, I write one every day when I first sit down at my desk.
In the end, who am I to stand in the way of evolution and natural selection? Maybe my fear jolt mechanism kept my ancestors alive to the point where somewhere down the gene pool line I was born. I’ll keep that in mind, but also knowing that femurs are for walking not trepanning, and waterholes are for sharing. Now if I can just get some sleep.
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Yes that’s a very counterproductive habit that some of us Homo sapiens possess. It’s probably also shared with higher orders of mammals since we see dreamlike behavior and cats and dogs, too. Rerunning the days events or rehearsing what would be said during an upcoming conflict robbed me of many useful hours of sleep. The writing it down does have its benefits, just telling myself that I will “deal with it tomorrow“ has had some success as well. Safe travels to you.
Hey..cute art. Did you do that too?