We all have some kind of voice. Even for those of us who cannot speak, we have ways of expressing ourselves. A certain contradiction arises when we want to achieve a state of being where everyone can exercise their voice, because certain voices need to reign louder than others. This subdues the voice of those who are deemed to be less loud. However, the contradiction can be elevated by spaces. Certain voices can have certain spaces, as long as they are heard and are translated through the channels that are created for a particular state of being. Without hearing and translation, voice can lose its purpose.
Been getting into The Blacklist , thanks to Aly. Still early days, but Raymond 'Red' Reddington went into a monologue once that goes like this: A farmer comes home one day to find that everything that gives meaning to his life is gone. Crops are burned, animals slaughtered, bodies and broken pieces of his life strewn about. Everything that he loved taken from him - his children. One can only imagine the pit of despair, the hours of Job-like lamentations, the burden of existence. He makes a promise to himself in those dark hours. A life's work erupts from his knotted mind. Years go by. His suffering becomes complicated. One day he stops - the farmer who is no longer a farmer - sees the wreckage he's left in his wake. It is now he who burns, he who slaughters, and he knows in his heart he must pay. Fantastic oration by James Spader , here and in many other monologues. Kinda reminds me of a post I wrote 6 years ago discussing heros and villians, and then a revisit o...
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