Lowered Expectations

In approximately 14.5 hours I will be sitting in a dark theater surounded by my fellow nerd brethren watching Episode III as it is unveiled at a Midnight screening. Most reviews thus far have been very favorable. Unfortunately that doesn't mean anything to me nor does it portend either a good or bad movie. The only way I can ensure that the latest Star Wars will be any good (or even salvageable) is to keep my expectations low. Very low, in fact. The other two movies in the prequel trilogy were not just bad entries in the canon of Nerd lore but also just bad movies that were barely entertaining on any level. And yet, every time I see a trailer for a Star Wars movie, my heart does soar a bit -- mainly because those trailers are cut so well that each movie promises to be the zenith of cinema as we know it. So I let myself get a lil excited, telling myself (after the assraping of Phantom Menace) that it's not going to be any good so don't expect it to be -- and sure enough what little hope and happiness was reserved for these films are quickly dashed upon the rocks of mediocrity and disappointment. So now I approach this third and (supposedly) final film with the lowest of expectations -- even with the critics' applause ringing in the back of my head. I merely ignore that and assume it will be another subpar evening spent with people who join me in hoping for something great but will also leave the theater feeling crestfallen and used (except for that kid who dressed up like Boba Fett -- he just feels stupid).

But this trend of lowering my expectations to enjoy a particular product isn't restricted to all things Lucas. This extends beyond a galaxy far far away to TV shows I enjoy, new books by authors I like, new albums from favorite bands, and even social outings with my friends. In order to truly enjoy something I have to downplay any hint of greatness that may occur and accept that it will, in all probability, be kinda lame.

The truth is, I'm sick of it.

I'm sick of wanting something great, but not even letting myself want it. I'm sick of being used to disappointment -- what the hell is that? Why is that such a pervading force in our lives? Our parents tell us "Life isn't fair" and we all accept that most people in this world won't get what they want (unless they're beautiful, rich, or some combination of the two). As soon as I discover some new opportunity, I get excited by it but ultimately that excitement is corraled by the knowledge that it's not going to happen for me. Maybe that makes me a pessimist. But more often than not it's not my pessimism that makes me glum, it's my idealism.

It's the fact that at the Age of 23 I still think there's an adventure around the bend. That I can still find that Fantasy Woman and fall perfectly in love with her forever and ever. That wonder and miracles and all that other stupid cliched bright eyed bullshit still exists. I want to believe in Booby Traps, Treasure Maps, Mad Scientists, Super powers, Secret Governments, Lost Cities, Aliens, Destiny, Hidden Monsters, Prankster Gods, and Love at First Sight. It's lame and it's stupid and it's pretty pathetic -- but I want all that.

I want to step foot on another planet before I die, or enter another realm of existence without the assistance of drugs, or become part of a arcane myth, or have some pursuit that can be described as "Death Defying" and "Impossible".

But as I get older, I realize that the possibility for such things are incredibly small. Infinitesimal, even. Impossible, really. So I dim that light of hope a little more with each passing day and every year it fades away a little bit. Disappointment is the norm for someone that dreams big and expects the best out of this world.

It's enough to turn a man bitter and misanthropic.

But I'm not bitter or misanthropic. Well, not that much. Not yet. I just don't let myself get excited for the new Flaming Lips album, or the next season of Lost, or Palahniuk's new book -- cuz if I do, it's going to be horrible.

Part of that reasoning is the whole "Victim of High Expectations" thing where if you expect the impossible from a person or a group of people -- to replicate and exceed levels of greatness that most people never achieve once in their lifetime let alone multiple times -- they're bound to fail you. The other part is a slight touch of Magical Thinking. Magical Thinking, as I learned from Augusten Burroughs's book of the same name, is a schizotypal personality disorder attributing to one's own actions something that had nothing to do with him or her and thus assuming that one has a greater influence over events than is actually the case. For example, If I get excited about a particular movie THEN that movie will suck. So instead I have to live in this apathetic muted happiness limbo waiting to allow myself to actually enjoy something.

Is this the norm? Not the Magical Thinking part; that's just me being a total psycho. But the rest of it -- is it the norm that we all either accept the mediocre or anticipate disappointment? Do others feel this way? I can say I know a few who share in my blase-by-proxy worldview. And it's usually a reluctant subscription to this ethos. My fellow jaded friends all wanted something great and grand and exciting and impossible; but instead we found cubicles, and deadlines, and heartbreak, and mediocrity.

But I don't think this is relegated to just my band of UnMerry Men. Look at the rest of the world: We accept our crappy and partisan government; we accept wars done not in our name; we accept crappy output of so called artists; we accept lies and cheats and scandals; we accept that the only people who are getting outraged tend to be the wrong people, and the world bows to them yet we do nothing to retaliate; we accept taxes, and pollution, and talentless celebrities; we accept genocide, and tax fraud, and diseases; we accept our world being taken away from us; we accept Companies rising in power and merely shrug. The Constant Shrug. "What you gonna do about it?"

We accept so much, and we allow ourselves to be disappointed time and again. Why can't we demand better? What can't we be unreasonable? Since when do reason and hope share the same bed let alone the same sentiment? Why can't we go out and find adventures and laughs and friends and romance and a nemesis or two? Why must we always resign ourselves to the rules of a game we inherited?

I don't know. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm the only one who must lower expectations to enjoy something. And maybe it's just that I set the bar too high, unrealistically in fact, and I should knock it down a few pegs. Maybe Episode III will be great and I can think that going into the theater.

Nevertheless, every morning I wake up and walk out the front door, still hoping to suddenly find myself enlisted in some insane and epic campaign that promises danger, love, intrigue, and the impossible.

Then again "Adventure, excitement..A Jedi craves not these things."

At the end of the day, I'm still just a nerd who wants a lightsaber.