Gibbs' Head Slap

The trouble with being a slow thinker is that it removes me from the primary interest stream of "Today's News."  This is old news to the people who care and unimportant news to everyone else.  This is why my blog is silly.  Nevertheless....this is what interests me today as I just rewatched the February 7, 200th Episode of NCIS, called "Life Before His Eyes."

Gibbs staring down the bullet.

That's why I'm only posting now about the 200th episode of NCIS -- the A Christmas Carol or It's a Wonderful Life episode in which Gibbs is visited by the "ghosts" of past and possibility as a bullet moves slowly toward him.  During the milliseconds of bullet travel time, his unconscious mind gives him both negative and positive messages about how he lived his life.  It's a trip into the memory vortex we all will take.

Negative:

• If Gibbs hadn't encouraged her, his wife would not have testified against the drug dealer who had her and Gibbs' daughter murdered.
• if Gibbs had been perceptive enough to spot Ari on the rooftop and kill him, Kate wouldn't have been shot, she and Tony (and Tim and Abby) would have gotten together and Kate would have had Tony's kid.

Positive:

• if Gibbs had remained a Marine, rather than becoming an NCIS agent, his wife and daughter would have suffered from having Marines come to the door with the message of his death in the first Iraq war. 

"If you'd stayed a Marine, Gibbs, the loss would have fallen on us instead."

• if he had remained a Marine, he would have not have brought all those murderers to justice. 
• if Kate hadn't been shot by Ari, Ziva would have remained in Mosad (but she and Tony would still have met).
• if Gibbs had not murdered the drug dealer who killed his family, he would have quit NCIS early and become a mean, reclusive drunk in his basement, making a rocker and a hope chest rather than a boat, and insulting the caring Abby, Tim, and Ducky.
• thus, if he hadn't killed the drug lord he would not have solved all those cases and brought all those people to justice.



Gibb's and the memory of his mother.

• Gibb's mom says she's proud of who he was as a boy, proud of who he became as a man.

What we discover about the Gibbs by the end:

• He believes his mother was proud of him even though she never said so.  This explains why he rarely praises the people he loves.
• He believes that his mistake in not shooting a badguy resulted in less life and love for his young colleagues.   
• He believes that his action of murdering a different badguy was ultimately justified.
• Although he says he is just doing his job, he believes, deep down, that his job is very, very important.  This last belief winds up being underlined in the non-dream world by Tim McGee who decides to turn down a better job in Japan in order to stay with the crew he knows and loves.

Why is all this important to us 20.98 million viewers (according to TVPressfeed) of the 200th episode?  To the extent that we admire or identify with Gibbs, it allows us to think about how we would address our own mortality and life choices.  In doing so, it also provides us with a "tragic view" of life as it shows good and bad in balance with bad sometimes winning out. At least twice Gibbs says that he wanted things to be different, once when he says about work and family,  "But I wanted both."  He is told, at least twice:  "It doesn't work like that."

Another lesson Gibbs learns is that, as the Bible says, "No man knows the day or the hour" of his own death.   Several times during the show Gibbs says, "I didn't expect this." The universe Gibbs inhabits is a chaotic one where humans are not in charge.

This is a rare point of view for  an American drama, especially a police procedural.  Usually, the American worldview is one in which good is achievable, in which the heroes get what they want and need and the bad guys suffer.  The very reason people enjoy detective shows, according to some theorists, is because they offer the promise of order.  In the world of Gibbs' unconscious mind, however, the good guys suffer from the world's unmanageable disorder.  The Good News is that, through their suffering, they make a difference for the rest of us.

Creative Nonfiction

Last night I was inspired by Greg Lyons' nonfiction class.  Not by their work (I'm not privy to that), but by the reasons they gave for doing that work.

I asked them to talk about the "best thing" about writing but by the time the assignment slid onto the third row, the students were saying "what I like best about . . ." or "what I enjoy about . . ." rather than "the best thing."  Was this because they had an innate or encultured  realization that they couldn't honestly speak for everyone?  Or was it because they've (we've?) grown up in a culture which assumes that the individual is special and, in some consumerist Kantian way, thinks, "I am the measure of all things."

Well, in America, we have the socially and legally negotiated "God-given" right to pursue happiness so why not measure the world like an artist in the movies, forever peering past and beyond an upraised thumb?

from ArtGraphica.net

But back to how they inspired me.  (Yeah, that's a sucky transition.  So sue me.)

They told me that writing was important and enjoyable because it allowed access to the subconscious, provided a way to speak one's truth, provided access to the pleasure of moving characters around, and because they had to.   Sadly, this last has never been my gift.  Unlike the great graphomaniacs -- Isaac Asimov, Joyce Carol Oats, Kenneth Burke, Stephen King -- I don't find writing addicting or soothing.  I find it annoying, difficult, and hard on my lower back.  So, I'll have to go with those students who said that they wrote to tell their truths and to get access to the subconscious.

The question for me is, is this blog the place to do that?