“Hurts”

I was watching the third Guardians of the Galaxy movie the other day. A bit late to the party to be sure, as I always am when it comes to movies, and I guess maybe I was in a certain mood or state of mind or what have you, because the animal abuse scenes in it made me think about a lot of things. And while there are quite a few of those scenes, the main one for me is, as it is also often the case when it comes to movies, a small one, it is a small detail, a specific and very singular moment. Then again it might not be as insignificant as all that, in great movies the details never are. A lot of thought and work is placed behind all things, and maybe a lot of meaning too, and so now I'm left wondering if I'm on to something or if I'm overthinking everything, or if maybe in a few words time I'll reconsider, and then rewrite, and then delete, this entire page. And the thing in question would be Rocket's very first word, a short and simple word that doesn't even make for an entire correct sentence, a word that was so difficult for him to say but so easy for everyone, all jews and all gentiles of all nations, to understand. And that word was – Hurts.

Trent Reznor, and then later on Johnny Cash, did something similar. That is to say they took that word, although minus one letter, and wrote a whole song about it. Cash's version was so powerful that Reznor himself said his song had been taken over, now rightfully belonging to its new master. The lyrics are very sad and moving, and at times quite metaphorical too, but the title, the operative word, it's just so forceful and biting and universal, and indeed, it's probably the universal experience common to all living things, namely this unique capacity to suffer, this capacity to feel hurt. It is as universal as it is universally avoided, and in the context of the lyrics it is even avoided when someone is accidentally doing the hurting to someone else. You might then intuitively say that the hurt is quite simply, and with no need for fancy philosophies, the bad thing at the end of all things.

And you could have it all,

My empire of dirt.

I will let you down,

I will make you hurt.

“I will make you hurt” is one hell of a thing to say to anybody... It's simple and almost ungrammatical but it sure gets the point across, very bluntly too. I'm not really sure if the High Evolutionary says those words at any point in the movie, maybe he does or maybe he doesn't. But regardless of his actual words, what matters is that he does something to that effect, inflicting onto Rocket and countless other animals all manner of hurt. And so when we await to hear Rocket's first word we see he's being pushed into his jail cell for what will be to him a much needed rest, now with bits of his fur shaved to reveal some of his pink skin, all sore and bruised and raw, with fresh stitch lines all over his body, shivering with fear and the existential strangeness of being thrown into such a dark place, of suddenly realizing that he exists in desperate conditions. The hurt has thus been made flesh, and only then does Rocket make flesh into word.

But it's just a movie!... You might say that, and I might say it too because it occurred to me as well. In fact, I left a note about it, or rather I wrote down the word “manipulation” and left it all alone because I figured I'd know what to say about it when I got around to its due paragraph. And yeah, you could say in part there's some of that. After all, it is a movie with lots of computer-generated characters, what with their big eyes, their all too human voices, their mannerisms and personalities. In that sense I suppose everything is carefully made so as to elicit empathy, even from a fella like me... But is a movie ever just a movie? Is a song ever just a song? Is a book ever just a book? No, I shouldn't think so, or if I were to think so then I'd realize I wasted more of my life than I thought and I'd then lose myself in a big nothing... In this particular case it occurs to me that I'm on to something, and I know now that this singular moment has been noticed by more people than just me. And apparently, if the feeling of hurt is universal, then the feeling of empathy appears to be universal as well, although at times it is more strangely hidden and therefore harder to understand.

That universality, however, is easy to find, as this precise moment of Rocket's first word has been noticed by millions of people, but the actual, real, pragmatic empathy towards it is sorely lacking. That is because in this very moment there are countless animals just like Rocket in very similar situations. Maybe they don't speak that word, maybe they lack some awareness of exactly where they are or what they can do to escape, maybe they don't look quite the same way and they don't have quite the same humanity... but they do have the same capacity to suffer. And if we can gleam the reality of suffering somewhere from within a fictional character, quite as if that suffering is real because in a sense it almost is, then why do we struggle to hold on to that empathy towards a real creature, though one who is far away and hidden from us? For all the real animals alive now in this world, if they could speak they'd speak that selfsame word in almost the exact same way. Still, the craziest thing here is that they do speak, and they do speak that same word, just in a different language. So why aren't we going out of our way to hear it? Or why aren't we as keen on empathy towards them as we are towards a character in a movie?

I suppose in many ways the greatest cruelty of suffering is it very often being needless, and so if it isn't needless then it can be stomached more adequately, it can be chewed and swallowed and digested. So then it becomes a matter of practicality – some people staunchly defend that this kind of suffering is needless and must stop, other people defend it as necessity and it therefore must be continued, and other people just don't care either way. As for me I'm not so sure what I defend. In some measure it does seem necessary to me, while at the same time it is quite obvious that at least a whole lot of it isn't. For example, the flesh of baby pigs cannot possibly be a physical necessity, to you, to me or to anybody, so all those baby pigs that were eaten today were brought into this world in a steel cage, they stayed there for their entire brief life, in pain and confusion, and then they were killed and served on a plate. It makes for a sad story, almost sadder than the one in the movie, but more than it being sad per se it's just bizarre... We live in a world where suffering is seemingly inevitable, true, but we also live in a world where we often go out of our way to perpetuate suffering, and then we ignore it, at least until we are faced with the its immediacy, and the equally inevitable despair of all creatures as they struggle to avoid it, doing whatever they can in a helpless situation.

Rocket, Teefs, Floor go now! Rocket, Teefs, Floor go now! Rocket, Teefs, Floor go now!

Thing is, not all of it is that inevitable, and a whole lot of it is simply unnecessary, and so if most of us have been made in such a way as to have a strong sense of empathy towards suffering, then why does suffering still exist in such large measures? Why has curiosity led so many to hurt so many others? You might say at the end of all hurt there is a good reason, a proper cause, a meaning that justifies all things. Maybe a lot of that meaning exists in the world, though it is rather opaque and obscure, but it does exist in a story. I suppose you might say it was always Rocket's destiny to endure that hurt and to carry on because he'd become a leader, a hero, so that one day that hurt he felt would have meant something. For him it is true, even if in a more boring sense it isn't true because he doesn't really exist... But regardless, what about all the animals for whom that wasn't true? What about all those instances of hurt that these creatures had to endure in their bodies? It is almost permanent and continuous, it's not always so easy to know that an animal is currently suffering, that his or her bones and flesh and skin are right now, in this very moment, currently and continuously aching. We might air on the side of doubt, we might assume it's not that bad or else it would have been made more obvious to us, maybe the animal was in some pain for a bit but it's all over now, it doesn't linger... So when this raccoon was thrown into a jail cell and trembled to mutter the word, we realized that since we can't turn back time, we better believe this suffering wasn't in vain, we better believe in some form of redemption, and in a very singular purpose to justify it.

My beloved raccoon... The story has been yours all along, you just didn't know it.

In this sense, like with a whole lot of things, if there's no ultimate justification for suffering in this world, then even one instance of it is enough to void and invalidate the whole thing and make us want to start over, or maybe not even that... Therefore if there's no guiding purpose at the center of it all then all instances of hurting have thus been made senseless. On the other hand, if there is such a purpose then maybe we can rest easy, but just a little, because regardless of that purpose it still rings as a loud and universal truth that if anything can be said to be bad it would be suffering. We don't need to love animals, we don't need to love raccoons, we don't even need to love this one raccoon in particular to know that when he's hurting it is factually true that something unpleasant is currently taking place in this world, and that it most definitely shouldn't be, and that it therefore should be stopped. And if it's well within our power to stop it, then maybe we should. Because if our hearts should break in sorrow, and if they should stop and cry and remember the suffering, then maybe our hands should do a little something about it.

Now as for me I don't really know. I am making no arguments, I am mostly rambling on until I wear myself out, rambling away these thoughts onto a page so they don't chase me as much anymore. And these thoughts are that my heart broke for a fake raccoon, in a movie I didn't expect to love so much or to think about as often. Now that I have, even though I feel as though I failed to write with any proper coherence, I'm left wholly dissatisfied, I feel as though a lot was left unsaid but I can't say it any better now. But maybe the reason is because this suffering, this hurting, it's all so intuitive as to not warrant much of an explanation. It's simple to pinpoint suffering because it has been made obviously felt, and for most of us, at times myself included, it has been made into an obvious thing to share in as well. Because even with all empathy aside, the true meaning of compassion has never quite been to share feelings, to be understanding and to offer some kind words. No, the true meaning of compassion has always been to suffer with, because after that hurt has been delivered it can be stopped or lessened, sure, but it can never be truly taken back. I suppose nobody has that power, people least of all. What has been delivered unto the flesh has now been made a permanent memory, even if it is ever forgotten, and so in our weakness we might at times resort to compassion, we might at times willingly choose to suffer a little bit of it as well. So does that mean we should volunteer to suffer horrific tortures as well for the sake of a beastly raccoon? No, maybe not, or maybe yes for all I know. But to at least allow for your heart to break, oh so willingly, as you witness it... yes, maybe that is worth something, maybe it's not as useless as all that.

I suppose not all bad things necessarily entail hurting, I wouldn't go there because it leads some to conclude that those who can't quite feel are less worthy, but it does seem obvious that all hurting, and all needless hurting, is in fact a bad thing. And so for how many more paragraphs will I keep insisting on the obvious? I feel as though I should just leave it, but the compassionate experience of suffering is maybe worthwhile to talk about, and to end on. Because every little detail of a suffering creature is delivered unto us like a fleshy shadow of the suffering itself. Every detail is etched onto our eyes, every twitch, every shiver, every sensation on every sensitive piece of flesh, all of it lasting forever, even if only for a brief moment, because when you hurt it's as if the sky falls on you and you come to find that the scope of all existence has been zeroed in on your head, your eyes, your teeth, your belly, your back, and because when one thing hurts so much it's as if all others do too, then even your everything hurts, it hurts all over... So whenever it hurts let it be swift, and when someone else hurts try to make it stop, or then lessen it, or then hurt yourself along with it. And then when it's all over, make sure none of it was in vain, build something nice on top of it all, and begin again, like it's the first day of the rest of your life.

Someday I'm gonna make great machines that fly. And me and my friends are gonna go flyin' together, into the forever and beautiful sky. Lyla, and Teefs, and Floor, and me... Rocket.