Cliffhanger: (n) an ending that leaves the audience in suspense.
I can’t watch the movie.
I’m talking about “Cliffhanger,” with Sylvester Stallone.
There’s one scene that is just not able to be viewed. Suspended on a single rope, Stallone tries to lift a women up to him so that he can take
them both to safety on the edge of the cliff. It goes badly. Her glove slips off and she tumbles–thousands of feet?–to the ground below. The camera follows the face of a very disappointed Stallone.
Not me. I’m wondering what it’s like to fall three thousand feet to your death.
It’s why I could never jump out of an airplane. I would have to convince myself that I’m prepared to die, just in case everything fails. Because the sensation of falling is not one that is acceptable to the human psyche.
Of course, I feel that way about all deaths.
I think the old song, “The Gambler,” says it well. “The best you can hope for is to die in your sleep.”
Of course, that’s kind of creepy, too. You nod off and the next thing you know, well…is nothing you know.
Death truly is the greatest cliffhanger in our human journey. We’re not going to know what it’s really like until we get there, and by the time we get there, it’s much too late to build up the courage and spunk to “do it well.”
Sometimes I think about what the worst deaths would be, as compared to a more tolerable demise. But in the end, you’re either getting smashed or being forbidden air.
We’re all heading for the cliffhanger. Matter of fact, some of you reading this essay are already uncomfortable, wishing I would get to a final sentence and stop talking about this crazy shit.
So I will do…