The Old Man and the Sea

At times the bounty seems neverending as if lavish munificence resonates incarnate, while at others it all dries up and leaves you prone to grievous frustration. 

The dialectics of oceanic endeavours inevitably provoke chaotic equilibrium, the wild tumultuous overcast bearing as furtively belittling as it is advantageous.

What would it be like to make a living aboard a sturdy seafaring vessel, as the weather habitually transforms form one mighty distillation to the next?

The process of change invigoratingly clear as one boldly navigates infinite waters, tried and true dependable depths give way to currents ne'er indefatigable. 

Animate conjecture indubitably delineates creative indisposed spry spectrums, endemic mystics imaginatively endowed with fervid spirits indelicately alighting.

But to actually head out and search when nothing was truly known or proven, before taxonomies within classifications ubiquitously catalogued geographic universals.

I imagine there were whales everywhere frequently emerging to breathe in jest, a trip across the bustling Atlantic producing perhaps as many as 200 sightings.

Not to mention what must have seemed like indeterminate frisky billions, casually adorning limitless shores with unconcernéd and innocent dalliance. 

The Old Man and the Sea picks up some years later and follows a humble fisherperson, who calmly goes with the ebb and flow to earn some bread and lighthearted meals.

He has a chill modest pad unassumingly situated off the beaten track, and a boat and the requisite skill to coast the ocean in search of booty.

But he's been rather unlucky as of late and hasn't managed to catch a thing, his perseverance remaining strong through the potentially enervating drastic drought.

Nature however in its eminence has saved him a colossal agile catch. He just has to haul it in.

After finding himself lost at sea.

Not to take away from its legend, the story was widely popular in my youth, but the film and narrative seemed outdated to me, it's hatred of sharks much too overbearing.

Sharks indeed frighten many but it's certainly rare that they take a human life, in fact for every human life a bloodthirsty shark takes we probably kill around 10 million (ball parkin' based upon stats I've seen on TV of around 250 million sharks being killed a year).

I can't imagine a shark fin making anything taste good.

Sharks maintain the ocean's delicate ecobalance.

And they're being treated with sincere disrespect. 

Thus, I appreciated the tale for it encouraged romantic wonder, but I could never kill so many sharks if they tried to eat my catch.

I'd probably just give my catch to the sharks and would be happy for making them happy.

Sigh. Couldn't cut it as a fisherperson methinks. 

Although I would absolutely love working at sea.

Predestination

Difficult to say what you would have done differently if you had possessed prescient knowledge way back when, would there simply have been more of an enigmatic emphasis, or would things still have proceeded without grandiose change?

A self-indulgent question to be sure creatively occurring if you've ever had time to consider the past, hypothetical degrees of forlorn or joyous intensities increasing, depending on whether or not temporal interventions could have facilitated alternatives.

But such alternatives would have opened up unforeseen potentialities which may have been more prosperous if not worse, manifold striking unpredictable variables accompanying sundry indefinite outcomes.

Such a perspective almost makes the act of engaging in trivial decision making, seem much more epic in light of the infinite imperceptible comic echoes. 

Would I have wound up teaching in Paris or exploring the bush laidback in Chibougamau, peacefully working away at the Granby Zoo or fishing off the coast of Sept-Îles?

Predestination introduces a time machine and a somewhat invariable interdimensional occupation, wherein which operatives monitor the past to attempt to hinder voltaic malfeasance. 

The rules are quite strict no nonsense the agents are watched with meticulous scrutiny, one attempting to improvise nevertheless after a lifetime of loyal service (Ethan Hawke as the Barkeep).

He befriends a recruit who's alone living a generally solitary existence, having grown up in an orphanage unencumbered by the temptations of bourgeois life (Sarah Snook as the Unmarried Mother).

Could she make a good agent who knows! theory's quite different from work in the field, but at least they have something to talk about over a drink at random one evening.

Even if you had a time machine and could travel back and forth to different ages, how would you ever settle in without standing out like a shocking oddity?

Would you be able to understand the dialect or codes of conduct with enough fluent ease, to do simple things like find lodging or food, and wouldn't the smell be repellent?

I suppose like so many things you'd have to proceed with trial and error, the first jump somewhat overwhelming the second and third perhaps less of a shock (if heading to the same location).

Could a thorough interest in Star Trek help to prepare one for such endeavours, as a kind of theoretical support, perhaps lacking practical value?

Predestination travels time like no other narrative I've seen before, much more concerned with characterized mystery than grandiose spectacle fantastic intrigue.

If you were to meet yourself 25 years ago have you any idea what you'd say?

Predestination has a unique answer.

It's really well done.

A must see for time travel fans.