El desdentado

Today I watched Alejando Jodorowsky's 1970 cult class, El Topo (The Mole). The film begins with the title character addressing his naked son, "You are seven years old. You are a man. Bury your first toy and your mother's picture."

From the outset, I couldn't help but notice the striking parallels of this narrative with that of my own life this week. For one, my mother, who has been calling me frequently ever since the layoff, while never explicitly instructing me to bury photographs of herself, reminds me frequently how old I am. I suppose she, like El Topo, means to encourage the maturation process of her progeny with this factual update.

Two, the extraction of my wisdom teeth. Most notably I would like to discuss blood. Blood played as large a role in the symbolic realm of the desert world of El Topo, as it did in my reality, a post-operative drool-stained pillowcase this morning. El Topo sets out to destroy four great gun masters. Four is the number of wisdom teeth I had removed.

And lastly I would like to discuss the title of the film and the accompanying voice-over narration:

"The mole is an animal that digs tunnels underground searching for the sun. Sometimes his journey leads him to the surface. When he looks at the sun, he is blinded."

This is noteworthy because I believe we have a rat living in my basement, and while it is a walk-out basement, it is a lot darker down there then on the main floor due to a lack of overhead lighting. Though food operations take place upstairs, the rat seems to prefer the darkness. Why is this the case? Perhaps the rat's ambitions extend beyond the conventional desires of his furry philistine friends in search of a free lunch. Perhaps he fears what truths he might encounter should he make his way toward the light.