Fortune Cookies and Fate

My roommate and I were recently unwrapping our post-lunch fortune cookies at a tasty joint in Chinatown when he told me the following story. When he was a child, he went to a restaurant with his family and watched his grandfather unhesitatingly not open his fortune cookie. My roommate asked his father why this was, and he told him that when he was a young man, my roommate's grandfather had gone to a fortune-teller with a friend. After telling my roommate's grandfather his fortune, according to the story, she refused to tell the other man his. When they left, the other man was walking across the street, got hit by a streetcar, and died. The grandfather had never read a fortune cookie since.

This story led to a conversation about fate and destiny and Oedipus, and after sorting through the ideas, I found myself at odds with my roommate. He said that under nearly no circumstances would he want to know when he was going to die. He said, and I would not argue with this, that having the date marked on your calendar would take away value from everything that happened between then and now. This makes sense. Friendships would be decidedly... different if they began with the knowledge that they would only last x long.

However, I said that I would like to know. If the fact is that I was going to die at 79 of a heart attack, I don't care so much, but if I was going to get shish kabobbed by cannibals in three years, I would like to know, not so that I could fight fate, but so that I could come closer to accomplishing my larger goals. I would like to have a child/children at some point in my life, but I have a hard time seeing that happening in the next three years. I'd like to direct a feature film(s) at some point, but I'd rather work inside the system to do this than go outside of it. I would fast track both of these things if I knew my time was short, and I would be grateful for the opportunity to do so.

This, then, called to mind the question of whether I'm living my life incorrectly. Considering the plausibility that any day could be my last, am I a fool for putting off these major goals? My roommate and I talked about the seemingly opposite philosophies, "Live every day like it's your last," and "Live like you will live forever." My conclusion was that both are up there with "Everything happens for a reason" in that they are pretty much insane ideas. In fact, living like it's your last day and living like you'll never have a last day are pretty much two sides of the same coin. Both lifestyles put you in a place where you aren't responsible for any consequences of your actions.

This brings me to a question I have been pondering for a while now: Is suicide really the most responsible way to die? I can't remember what I was watching in my recent Netflix binge (maybe an episode of 30 Rock?) but somebody said to somebody else to "Leave before the dinner is gone." Go out at the top of your game. When it comes to sports and entertainment careers, this seems like what everybody encourages: you should go out on top rather than slowing down. Follow the Jerry Seinfeld school of retirement. It's better for the legacy of your work. If the Wachowski brothers had stopped making movies after the Matrix, imagine how much better that movie would be remembered.

So what stops this from being true about life in general? Those cut down in their prime have much better, stronger legacies than those who stick around and get old and mellow and ugly. Maybe it is wise to end it all before this happens. Take the Seinfeld philosophy and apply it to life in general. Because ultimately, what else do we have in life besides our legacies? I guess what I'm saying is that as a life-long procrastinator, having a deadline for these things would be a good kick in the ass.

I don't know. Just some thoughts I've been having. Of course I'm nowhere near that point myself. On the other hand, my fortune cookie told me I was due for a promotion. Your thoughts on this subject are appreciated.