A Man With a Plan

Dearest Rachel –

In his (posthumous) Oscar-winning turn as the Joker in The Dark Knight, Heath Ledger utters the line to Aaron Eckhart’s Harvey Dent, “Do I really look like a guy with a plan?” The implication behind the question is that Dent is supposed to conclude that of course not; the Joker is too much of “an agent of chaos,” too bat-guano insane, to actually have a plan he’s carrying out. And considering the results of his activities, they certainly do seem to have a random, pointless aspect to them. Why go to all the effort he does, for instance, to obtain such a massive haul of money, only to “send a message” by burning it all (albeit with an underling he considers disloyal trapped within the flaming pile)? He insists that it’s everyone else who is too wedded to their plans, and he has appointed himself to be the personification of the fact that no plan survives chaos.

And yet, despite his claim, and the plausibility of it, it’s also clear that he does plan his actions (as well as those of minion, bystander and would-be captor). From the initial bank heist, where none of his mooks survive (which turns out to be deliberate on his part; again, who among them would have let him burn what they considered to be ‘their’ share of the haul?) and the one brought in to Gotham P.D. has a phone implanted under his skin, rigged to detonate upon being autopsied; to the kidnapping of Dent and his fiancée, requiring Christian Bale’s Batman to have to choose one to save (because he’s only given so much time to do so, and they’re squirrelled away in separate, distant locations); to the final caper in which passengers on two ferry boats are left with the classic Prisoners’ Dilemma; each of these situations has been meticulously planned, with what appear to be numerous back-up plans in case someone doesn’t follow the initial script along the way.

Of course, that’s the key to this all; following the script. The Joker, Harvey Dent, Batman – they are all fictional characters, following a script. It’s a well-written one, to be sure, allowing the viewer to immerse themselves in it, and almost consider it to be plausible (certainly, history is littered with madmen with a similarly nihilistic view of life and the people who populate it as the Joker – albeit they’re rarely quite as colorful in real life), but a preordained series of situations and circumstances. It’s easy to proceed confidently stride through life when it’s already been written out for you; not so much in reality, where the axiom proves that “no plan survives contact” with it.

I realize that this seems like a strange topic for me to be going on about (although, I suppose it’s not really any stranger than any other that I’ve written you about, apart from real life events); what brought this on? Well, it would seem that I have been reliably informed that what women really want… is a man with a plan. If he has one, and he will lead her to its conclusion, she will follow him to the ends of the earth.

This sounds promising to a man in my situation, and it’s borne out by the fact that even the Joker eventually found someone, in the form of Harley Quinn. To be sure, regardless of how comely and, uh… eager… she could be (“Aw… don’tcha wanna take a ride on yer Harley, Mistah J?”), even he knew better than to dip his beak into that level of crazy, despite the fact that it was his fault she was like this in the first place.

However, implicit in the delivery of this information (at least, as far as I could tell) was the suggestion that I’m not that kind of guy. Not just unlike the Joker (that would be a good thing, at least to most women), but one who didn’t have a plan for his life to lead someone through. It was rather similar to Mohinder’s endless mantra of “what’s your contribution?” which always carried with it the implication that “you’re obviously not making one, or I wouldn’t have to ask, now, would I?” Of course, it may just be that I’m taking this news more personally than I ought to.

That being said, it’s true; I’m not much for plans, goals or dreams, in all honesty. I’ve admitted as much to you in these letters, even referencing an exchange we had as far back as when we were courting. When it comes to plans, I’m Baldrick:

Baldrick, you wouldn’t see a subtle plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked on top of a harpsichord, singing “Subtle plans are here again!”

Lord Edmund Blackadder, Blackadder’s Christmas Carol (1988) And yes, I always thought the adjective applied to such plans was ‘cunning,’ but I suppose this works well against the irony of how unsubtle this kind of behavior on anything’s part would be. The whole ‘painting itself purple’ bit is a nice touch, too, given your preferences, wouldn’t you agree?

But as far as I can tell, there really aren’t a lot of Blackadders out there with truly cunning plans, either (or more to the point, there are a lot of people who seem to think they’re that smart, only to forget that he failed an awful lot of the time, too). Dunning and Krueger are affecting a lot of people out here, as it so happens. I think I’m just more aware than most that my own plans aren’t particularly good, or likely to succeed against unplanned resistance.

To be honest, I think of most plans as being like the one from South Park that started the whole meme, where everything falls apart at phase two:

Even the most noble of plans or goals – as a particular example, I always think of Pastor Scott’s desire to ‘finish well,’ which no one could argue as being an unworthy one (especially when compared to those who failed to do so) – often have a nebulous sort of action plan, as opposed to any concrete list of things to either do or avoid en route to success.

And with that being mentioned, what exactly constitutes ‘profit’ for the man with a plan that a woman would wish to follow? Is it financial security? Spiritual strength? Emotional support? Who even defines this, the man or the woman? You’d think it would be the man, and the woman would follow, but if she decides she’s not interested in this or that plan, and he’s interested in her, he’ll change it for her sake, meaning she’s chosen the plan, however indirectly. But would knowing that she had a hand in that choice cause her to reject such a wishy-washy partner, causing her to look elsewhere and start the whole cycle over again?

Moreover, it’s a different dynamic at this stage in life, compared to our own beginnings together just out of college. Then, we had a vague grasp on what we wanted in terms of each of those potential criteria of success, but were barely on our way to fulfilling them. At this age, we ought to be well on our way, if not completely successful in attaining those goals; those who haven’t made it – or at the very least, aren’t within sight of making it – are forced to concede that it’s not likely to happen, and adapt accordingly, hopefully to focus on what aspects of life they can succeed at.

The irony is, I’ve actually attained some of these goals, even without a particular plan. Much of it has been due to what some would call blind luck – being raised in a loving, faithful home with parents who serve as excellent moral examples; finding an equally loving (and faithful – in multiple senses of the word) wife with her own family legacy, and so forth – but could just as easily be considered part of God’s plan for me, for which I’m grateful, but also cognizant that I had very little to do with it, from a planning standpoint. The thing is, what went right were mostly things that I could not have caused to do so even if I tried – and indeed, trying might very well be the worst thing I could have done in an effort to get them to fall into place – so there’s no point in trying to take credit for what has happened in my life.

Indeed, perhaps my assertions that I have neither plans nor goals are akin to those I made when I was younger, claiming that I (along with all of humanity) was incapable of true love. And we are, since we are all woefully imperfect – how do you wrest perfection from the imperfect? But likewise, how can one claim to have a foolproof plan, worthy of being followed to inevitable success in such a world where not only you, are planner, are fallible, but everyone you encounter who might affect it is equally so (and some might even be malicious, attempting to foil your plans, for one reason or another)? It can’t be done.

Of course, that’s not to say we can’t – or shouldn’t – attempt to make plans. But still, one has to always recognize the source, and the likelihood (or more to the point, the lack thereof) of success. What plans we make, we must tread carefully, for just as “a way may seem right to a man,” that’s no guarantee that it truly is. Only through meeting with his Maker (and perhaps, some wise earthly counsel, as well – including, mayhap, from his would-be ‘follower,’ treating her as an equal in terms of knowledge, wisdom and stake held in its success) can a man have real confidence in his plans, and walk boldly forward in a manner that should prompt others to join him on his path to success. What do you think, honey?

In either case, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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