Transplanted Life
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Oscar catch-up day
Today was spent at the movies and shops with Kate. We're trying to see most of the likely Oscar nominees before the actual announcements; we'll miss some, but the ones that do get nominated will likely have their runs extended long enough to catch them. We're planning to go to the Brattle's annual Oscar party, and it's always good to be informed when heckling.

One of the movies we saw was Million Dollar Baby. Damn good movie, even if I have issues with what was brought up in the last act. Skip the next two paragraphs if you haven't seen the movie but think you might; it's good, which is a given with Clint Eastwood. Real good; maybe his best since Unforgiven.

Part of my big issue was that it gets into assisted suicide in the end. The girl was paralyzed from the neck down, with nasty bedsores and gangrene. Even in my previous life, I was never cool with the idea of assisted suicide. I wasn't religious, and I have a tough time imagining a desire to end one's life without the belief in the potential for a happy afterlife. Not having that, I couldn't understand it. Now, though, having experienced my thoughts and memories being copied from one body to another, it throws doubt into the whole idea of a soul that encapsulates those things. How can I believe that I'm more than flesh and blood and neural impulses, and thus able to live on after I do?

Kate looked at it from a different angle. If you and people like you were general knowledge, she said, what would the end of the movie be about? Maybe transfering her mind into that of some convict, either against his will or with his consent. Heck, the whole issue of whether girls boxing would even happen, or whether the girls with the urge to do so would just become men, maybe switching with guys who were transgendered or something.

There's that, I supposed. I had to admit, the scenes of girls getting in the ring and wailing on each other made me squeamish. Kate shrugged, said she understood somewhat, but haven't I wanted to deck someone in the past year and a half? Well, yeah, of course, but still...

Awwww, she says, and kisses me on the cheek. You still sort of think like a chivalrous guy. It's cute. Trust me, she says, based on boarding school experience - girls fight. Really, I should be glad that I became a woman so late in life. Guys, she said, only had one hair-pulling stage when they were really little. So, how else am I still a guy in my mind.

Well, I'm not buying anything pink today. Duh, she says, you're over twenty. I suppose.

... Okay, I just nodded off mid-typing. I think I'll finish this tomorrow.

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