On this terrazzo, with the doors of my sight in a downward slide and the sentries bowing down as if paying homage to Apollo, I took a familiar voyage to Neverland. This time Captain Hook was so nice and harmless in a Cumberbatch kinda way and his English accent I just couldn't get enough of. On his head the beauty sat, a fedora which seemed to be rocking the head so comfortably that I doubted she will ever consent to the noble captain's request of she coming down afterwards. Mr Smee's (Captain Hook's henchman) pleasant attitude and his Ryan Gosling's charm was what got me to start thinking that I was probably in a movie and that Cumberbatch has as usual given this character(Hook) his midas touch too... because there's no limit to a man who was able to make me cry for Khan Noonien Singh (the villain in Star trek into darkness) , but it wasn't.
At first it was a smooth sail, the crew were happy and well you know how it is when an English man is around brew.... am talking Bronn in one of those Westerosi taverns!! (Game of Thrones). Then it happened, there was chaos everywhere, screams!! People desperately holding on to any avaliable rope or beam... the looks in their eyes made plain what their voices didn't have the courage to say.. "we are scared of dying ".... well I got to play the hero who saved the day by waking the hell up since I too was scared of dying... Duh!!!
Surviving a shipwreck by the skin of my teeth made me realise that my childhood dream of being a pirate was just my childish crush on Johnny Depp's Jack Sparrow trying to make himself heard and that my other dream of living into my late 70's and winning so many Oscars like Jack Nicholson wouldn't allow me to have the stomach for such things..... Life over death, I guess.
Throughout history, Man's determination to hold on to life at all costs has been evident in his deeds both (questionable and unquestionable) and as such shouldn't be overemphasised, even the questionable deeds shows the extent of his desperation.
The Zong massacre of the late sixteenth century, even though the act of the crew throwing slaves overboard into the sea to drown, in order that the remainder could survive when the ship ran low on potable water following navigational mistakes, was perceived as racial discrimination and for its financial benefits, it is still an act of survival by man to still hold on to this our mortal coil even at the expense of another's.
Nat Turner's declaration of jihad on the whites through his 19th century slave rebellion which resulted in over fifty white deaths was also an act of survival and man's love for life. Slavery just wasn't enough to get man to give up on life,in fact the live of life seem to sprout from the buds of hardship and suffering. Idk if it's just me or is there something about this struggle that makes it so divine?. It's obvious that even the sword of Damocles wouldn't do the trick of man to abandon life.
Life in the forest understory can resemble life in a war zone. For many plants, every day is a battle as native plants struggle to hold onto their territory while invading plants seek to gain a foothold. Animals too go this far for life, to keep on with their struggle and cling on to life. Watching my brother those days during xmas and Easter slaughter chicken for our family consumption got me racking my brain with questions about life since even the ones that we seem to be doing a favour by putting out of their miserable lives will always struggle and kickback at the executioner as the guillotine falls. Why would even animals go thus far??? Why this eternal struggle in the ecosystem??
Who would bear the whips and scorns of time?? ..... who would bear to grunt and sweat under a weary life??. These questions got me going all Veronica Mars on life. Man's bravery is rooted in fear.... the uncertainty of the next step is the reason he's still on the last one. Man's loyalty to life is questionable. The answer to all these questions have always been with us... we cling on to life for the same purpose we don't want to let it go , the devil we know is better than the angels we don't. The scare of the Unknown, what would be made bare at that place beyond the pines... the place beyond the horizon of our present knowledge... Valour turned out to be the final stage of fear. It is the Dread of the undiscovered country from whose bounds no traveller returns that puzzles the will and makes us bear the ills we have than fly to those we know not of.... and thus the conscience makes cowards of us all. The frail flesh, this ailing shell.
by +Nka Anthony
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