Dark cloud: (adj) dim, indistinct
It is a perennial favorite to feed a never-ending argument about the value—the realism—of dark entertainment.
One of my grandchildren says she doesn’t want to be known as a “goody two-shoes,” which has set her in motion to watch, read or peruse anything that clouds the mind with darkness.
I fuss with my children over this issue.
I’m just always curious about what I refer to as “the final day.”
I’m not speaking of eternity, or a “Great White Throne Judgment.”
I am referencing the sensations, the regrets, the wonder, the curiosity and the reflections that enter our minds and souls when and if we know we have twenty-four hours to live.
It is often the case that this cushion of preparation is not provided, and we go from breathing to breathless.
But assuming that we had a guaranteed twenty-four-hour period to consider our choices, would there be anyone who wished that he or she had spent more time in the dark clouds?
It may seem noble, or worse, intellectual, to commiserate with the insane or the hopelessly lost.
But what is it they teach us?
Are they a warning for the stupidity of foolish behavior?
Or do they encourage us to loosen up just a bit more, keeping an eye on not going too far?
Yet the human race always goes too far.
I do not need to be surrounded by butterflies.
But I need to at least observe caterpillars, knowing where they are headed.