What does A Beautiful Life say?

Born in the middle and late 1970s, we have reached the age of being fathers, in such a ridiculous and desperate age.

Our experience is more turbulent than anyone else: most of the former 60 s are still developing in their hometown; After that, I began to be confused in the 1980s, and our generation was the beginning.

After more than ten years of education, I suddenly found that we have nothing to do with the system. So we were rushed to the society, and most of them didn't want to go home and repeat the life of their fathers and brothers, so we stayed in the city where we studied, or drifted north or south.

In a cubicle of the office building in the business district, we can find ourselves everywhere-he is seriously processing a document, he is drawing a villain to survive the weekly meeting, he is chatting with classmates and friends online, and he is greeting customers. How small and humble idealism seems at this moment.

One day, in the subway station, I saw a couple of junior high school students, and I couldn't help but suddenly miss the world: how many years have we not been to school? What have we done in these years after graduation? Our first love, how did you get along elsewhere? Once a comrade-in-arms, after you were replaced by a new generation of street fighters, did you get the 1 10,000 you promised, but you didn't know how to get it? Students who struggled together in this city, although we had each other's phone numbers a few years ago, have you reached the ideal shore?

In the city we once yearned for, in the cultural and economic holy land we yearned for, the sun failed to illuminate our eyes, and we often plunged into our bags.

Between colleagues, between colleagues' ex-colleagues, in cheap restaurants next to business districts, at disguised industry gatherings, on friends' forums, or simply on a city date with strong desire, we have the present love. In order to reduce the cost, we lived together and snuggled up to each other. When what is done is done, when we have lived together for almost three years, the serious question arises: when will we get married? So we got married for the sake of responsibility, urged by our parents and teased by our colleagues.

James in Iron Fist made up a sad lie and gave his breakfast to his little daughter. As the first group of family planning children and the first group of the most selfish people, do we care about other people's lives? We have no confidence in this, so we have the money to buy a ridiculously expensive house and lie that we have no money to raise children.

James said to his son who stole sausages, "Just because life is hard, you have no reason to take things that don't belong to you." Educating children is one thing, but the battlefield for adults is another. When one day, the whole city becomes a mental hospital, will we declare "my hunger is my destructive power" like the Decepticons?

Can we laugh at the cruel reality? Just like Guido in A Beautiful Life, in an inhuman concentration camp, it is just a game to deceive his son, so that his childlike innocence is not hurt. Not only can we not be so amazingly powerful, but we don't even want to face the approaching danger.

Are we humorous enough? We don't even know the difference between Tianjin crosstalk and Beijing crosstalk. We just giggled at Cai Ming and Guo Da. Therefore, the silly face on TV always has a broad market.

Are we strong enough? Making love has become our only exercise, and we are even ashamed to exercise, because it seems to be a matter for the old and the old lady. Therefore, only a few of us will sneak into the gym, but as we all know, it is to lose weight, not to keep fit.

What kind of father will we be? Like our father? Is it a seemingly inexhaustible ATM machine? Is it the short message writer who tirelessly advises us to be kind? An activist who believes in this system and tries to convince us of it?

Standing at the top of the economic pyramid? No big accident, no hope. Even if we squeeze in by various humble means, it is unfortunate to carry a bag of dollars like this when the hopes of ordinary people turn into despair. "No apostate is free", this is the words of Stalin's daughter. Then, similarly, there are no deserters who are not despised. Facing the curse of compatriots and the eyes of foreigners, how should we explain it to others?

Infiltrate the bureaucratic lazy team? It is expressly stipulated that you need a Beijing hukou to enter the national ministries and commissions. Even if you become a civil servant, you are equally unfortunate. After the disintegration of the Soviet Union, it was the most difficult for those who were arrogant in the past to find a job. No company wants to raise an old man. Besides being familiar with office politics, what else can we rely on to waste the rest of our time correctly?

The only possibility left in the end is the occupation we are currently engaged in-the so-called white-collar workers. Let's make a rough analogy: female stars are all strong people who want to sleep, but why are they always female workers who are raped at night? Because female stars are surrounded by bodyguards, the cost of rape is unbearable; Female night shift workers can only be picked up by boyfriends or husbands at most, and the cost is almost negligible. Semi-middle-class and petty-bourgeois dreamers who have shrunk are most vulnerable to attacks by revolutionaries who have no direction, because there is no cost to rob us, no money to hire seven or eight bodyguards with guns, no well-informed flight ahead of time, and no money bag for us to settle down elsewhere. Even we can't afford a better German shepherd. If that day does come, or even comes ahead of time, how can we protect the family of spinal hyperplasia and mouse hand?

When something unexpected happens, when we have to declare ourselves a traditional person, when her uterus is too fragile to bear abortion, are we still qualified to be fathers?