Madagascar 3 [Also: Thunder & Blazes, Socrates, and Motherhood]

Today, we took Lilith to the movies for the first time. She’s been with Sue a couple of times, but was too little and too antsy to sit through an entire feature. On a whim, we took her to see Madagascar 3 this morning. We picked a super-early matinee, hoping for a sparsely packed theatre and sympathetic other-parents-of-preschoolers.

While we were in the parking garage, Lilith told me that she’s no longer afraid of the dark and that the movie will be fun. We bought her a humongous bag of popcorn, and settled in. In the flickering darkness of the previews, I looked over at Lilith and (it was so strange) tears sprang to my eyes. She was sitting in the dark between me and Ted, kinda lounging, tossing popcorn into her mouth. It was a strangely perfect moment, and I felt overwhelmed with a peculiar contented joy; I was completely overcome by the simple happiness of being with my family.

During a very strange fight scene in the movie, my mind wandered and a quote from Plato’s Republic floated through my head:

For tell me, do you agree that there is a kind of good which we would choose to possess, not from desire for its aftereffects, but welcoming it for its own sake? As, for example, joy and such pleasures that are harmless and nothing results from them afterwards save to have and hold enjoyment.

(In the interest of full disclosure, I’m currently reading the Hemlock Cup, so Socrates is on my mind a great deal lately.)

That was this perfect moment. Joy for joy’s sake, and nothing else at all mattered.

The past few years have been full of work, responsibility, and toil, and I think I lost sight for some time of the importance… of the necessity… of the quiet, elegantly simple pleasures that make life worth living. I have been so busy being busy, clogged by Type A insanity, and responsiblities and worries, both real and self-imposed.

Funny that a morning filled with Afro Circus would help me to see that.

In other less-navel-gazey news, both Afro Circus and Julius Fučík’s Entrance of the Gladiators are now stuck in my head.

On repeat.

Have I ever mentioned this? — in my will, I have requested that Entrance of the Gladiators be played at my funeral. (Trufax.) I’d like it to be played on a steam calliope if at all possible, but I’ll understand if it can’t be swung.

Oh, yeah. Here’s my review of the movie: it was pretty fucking funny. I laughed loads. You should go see it.

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