Cupid, exposed

What most people do not know about Cupid is that he used to have a great P.R. guy. This of course was back in the Greek golden age, when the gods had a lot more resources to spend on things like public relations. Gods, like musicians, tend to change their names to create new personas, and at the time, Cupid was going by Eros. Aristophales, (that was Cupid’s P.R. guy), did a fantastic job with the persona of Eros. Eros was a sex symbol, more beautiful than Adonis and with more infatuated fangirls than Johnny Depp. Even the very word ‘erotic’ can find its roots in this rock star of ancient Greece. He did not cause a lot of problems, his mother, the vengeful Venus, was more into the whole ‘tormenting the mortals’ schtick. The worst thing that could happen with Eros is that he would spirit away some beautiful princess about to be sacrificed to a sea monster and treat her to a non-stop love-fest in his magnificent castle.

Unfortunately, his ‘Eros’ persona was relatively short lived, and soon the Cupid we know began to take root in the minds of mortals: A fat, cherubic little baby, floating about on wings, shooting love darts left and right, usually around Valentine’s Day. This was a common practice amongst the gods of modernity, with many of them selling out to corporations. Mercury became a flower delivery spokesperson, Apollo opened a concert hall in New York City, Mars got into the candy bar business, and even King Midas got a deal fixing mufflers and brakes. Cupid, however, became the biggest sell-out of all, becoming the corporate tool of Hallmark, selling cards to remind people that they love each other on an arbitrary day in February. 

Still, the version of Cupid we know from Hallmark, while not as flattering a portrait as the Eros of antiquity, is still a much more benign image than the real Cupid. The real Cupid resembles the winged fat baby only in passing. A closer look shows that he is indeed rather short, overweight, and bald, but not adorable by any stretch of the word. His wings are vestiges of a time in his youth when his frame was undoubtedly slimmer. He is eternally cranky. Were I a casting director, I would probably recruit Danny DeVito for the role.

 The diaper is in actuality a whitish pair of briefs, sometimes accompanied by a men’s sleeveless undershirt, (colloquially known as a ‘wife-beater’). He does indeed have a bow and arrow, but rather than the cute little plunger-like darts one sees on cartoons, his arrows are jagged, designed to inflict damage when removed. These serrated arrows are then dipped in a love-inducing venom and fired with precision towards his victims. 

This is another instance where Hallmark does a passable job cleaning up Cupid’s image. Falling in love is portrayed as some sort of pre-destined event, a fated union of two soul-mates. In reality, the Fates and Destiny herself both refuse to have anything to do with Cupid, ostensibly because of his drunken groping of Nona the spinner at a New Year’s party. Cupid himself is something of a Darwinist, which is admittedly an odd philosophy for a deity, but goes to show that religion and science can sometimes get along rather well.

One of the constraints Cupid works under is one familiar to many fans of first person video games: He only has so much ammunition. Arrows aren’t free, and so Cupid rarely fires two at the same time. Economic concerns aside, Cupid does seem to relish unrequited love. Like a frustrated housewife watching soap operas, he enjoys watching the drama of complete devotion answered with utter indifference. Still, because humans must reproduce in order to perpetuate the species, which in turn, is good for Hallmark’s bottom line, Cupid must occasionally strike two people at once with his arrows. The resulting infatuation breeds a new generation of mindless customers. This is where his Darwinism comes into play, targeting attractive people who will in turn have beautiful children and keep the species interesting for Cupid and the other gods to look at. Moral character, wisdom, intelligence, kindness, or any number of other factors are irrelevant in Cupid’s decisions. The tiny tyrant has decreed that happily ever after is only allowed to a genetically fortunate few.

Fortunately, the human race is nothing if not adaptable. In the absence of that rare form of love that includes an equality of adoration from both parties, many will settle for what they can get. Women will convince themselves that their attractive, but abusive and neglectful boyfriends are in fact simply good men encased in mystery: Mr. Darcys and Edward Cullenses just waiting to be discovered beneath the cold exterior. Men will blindly devote themselves to beautiful goddesses who would not deign a second glance to them if their money ran out. Aspirations of love erode slowly, replaced by resignation and acceptance. Miserable marriages soon follow, laced with secret resentment and a sense of disappointment that their lives did not end up the way Hallmark and Hollywood promised. 

Idiocracy: The Corruption of the American Dream

*Note: When I use the word "Santorum" in this piece, I am talking about the politician, not the more common definition that shows up when you google the word.

I detest American politics.  I would probably protest other countries' politics too if I followed them.  However, I cannot stop myself from paying at least a little attention to them.  This little bit from Santorum made me wish I'd stayed blissfully unaware:

Let's ignore, for a moment, the blatant hypocrisy of a man with an undergraduate degree from the highly ranked Pennsylvania State University and no fewer than two GRADUATE degrees (an M.B.A. and a law degree) calling Obama a snob for valuing higher education.  The idea that universities are indoctrination mills churning out a legion of Obama clones is so easily refuted that a simple glance at two random college graduates....let's say...Obama and Santorum...will show that college does not guarantee uniformity of thought or policy.  Or even guarantee thought at all.

I want to focus on the larger problem here.  Namely, Santorum's meteoric rise as a contender for the Republican nomination for president of the United States.  This is symptomatic of a disturbing cultural trend: The tendency of Americans to vilify intelligence and glorify ignorance.

First, let me make one thing clear:  I do not think Americans are innately less intelligent than any other people. I think stupidity is common to the human species in general.  The problem is that, in America, ignorance is seen as a positive thing.

I'm a bit of a Francophile, and I'll use France now by way of contrast.  France is a country that values its intellectuals.  Philosophers are rock stars to the French.  When Sartre was alive, his opinion was sought out on matters of social policy, on politics, on whatever.  People recognized that he was a smart guy and that it might be nice to know his thoughts on the matter. 

In America, this sort of rapt attention is reserved for Kim Kardiashian and Snooki's twitter accounts.  

Carl Sagan picked up on this way back in 1995. "One trend that bothers me is the glorification of stupidity, that the media is reassuring people that its all right not to know anything - that in a way it's cool.  That to me is far more dangerous than a little pornography on the internet," he warned. 

We see it in schools where the smart kids are afraid to answer the teacher's questions for fear of looking too smart in front of their peers.  We see it in politics, where Americans will always vote for the guy who looks like he would have a beer with them and not the guy who sounds 'too smart' (or like a SNOB, to use Santorum's word). We see it when girls are told not to act too smart around a boy she likes, or she'll scare him away.  "Just giggle and smile and laugh at his jokes, boys don't want girls who are smarter than them", their mothers warn. From a very young age and at every stage of social development, American children are taught to hide their intellect for fear of making others feel inadequate.  

Where did this begin? I believe what Sagan calls the 'glorification of stupidity' its in reality the bastardization of the American Dream.  What once was the idea that every citizen had the chance to become more successful than his parents, to rise beyond her circumstances, or to achieve that white-picket fence epilogue to a life well-lived, has been subtly transmuted into something far less inspiring.  The American Dream was what once allowed a child to say, with every confidence, that he would grow up to become President, or an astronaut, or a scientist.  Now it has become an ambiance of marked scorn for even daring to have such lofty ambitions.  Why would you want to be an astronaut? Are you too good for us here on Earth? We're cutting NASA's funding anyway.

These principles of equality and fairness have been tainted by contact with the least common denominator.  Ambition is met with derision. Credentials are scoffed away.  With the democratization of knowledge through google and wikipedia, everyone feels entitled to the role of 'expert'.  With the advent of blogging and self-publishing, everyone is first an author, then a specialist.  Why waste time on a Ph.D. when a cursory (and shallow) facade of expertise can be produced with a few minutes spent on a search engine?  

True academics and vetted intellectuals are seen as elitists.  Seeking to become one is somehow an affront to those who are content not to develop their intellect.  It is as if attaining a higher education was pushing the rest of society somehow lower, when in reality the relative distance only increased in a positive direction.  Education improves society.  The academic achievements of my peer elevate him, they do not diminish me.  That science nerd who made you feel dumb in high school may one day cure your cancer.

Now we find ourselves in a society where Plato's Philosopher King would be booed out of office in favor of someone who is acceptably average.  Instead of putting the power to help us all into the hands of the most capable, we prefer to put it into the hands of those who make us feel comfortable with our own mediocrity.  The same jealous spirit that moved the mobs of Alexandria to burn its libraries and murder Hypatia animates modern man.  Those same feelings of distrust, fear, and hatred motivate bullies to punch the 'brainiacs' and push Santorum to get cheap laughs at the very notion that America could be improved if more people were taught critical thinking skills. 

I currently live and work in South Korea, which, like most Asian countries, puts such an importance on education that the children spend countless hours after school with expensive private tutors, at great cost to their families.  If America wants to retain its competitive edge, we would be wise to give education at least some of that value, rather than scorn.  If we do not, we cannot complain to our leaders when China overtakes us.  

After all, our leaders are just average Joes like us.  That's why we elected them.

The Swashbuckler

There seems to be a lot of confusion as to what exactly a swashbuckler is.  I'll start like every other Sacrament talk or public speech: With a dictionary definition of the subject of my discourse.

swashbuckler

 [swosh-buhk-ler, swawsh-]    Origin

swash·buck·ler

   [swosh-buhk-ler, swawsh-]  Show IPA

noun

a swaggering swordsman, soldier, or adventurer; daredevil.

Zorro.  The Dread Pirate Roberts.  The Three Musketeers.  Most of the characters portrayed by Errol Flynn on the silver screen. These are all classic examples of swashbucklers.  A swashbuckler is typically unarmored, relying on his wits, speed, and charm to see him safely through his adventures.  He is prone to swinging from chandeliers, dueling villains with his rapier, and engaging in witty repartee.

I have been slightly obsessed with the concept since I was a kid.  My first email address was the_swashbuckler@hotmail.com (Like most hotmail accounts, it has since become my dumping ground for websites who want my email address to register but that I know will send me spam).  Part of the reason I learned French was because I had fallen in love with this mythos of the witty adventurer.  This is also why I took up fencing.  My favorite superhero growing up was always Spider-man, the swashbuckler of superheroes (okay, I know, Nightcrawler is a better fit, but he was always a favorite too).

This brings me to Halloween.  Living in Korea, Halloween is not celebrated much here.  However, I have been sort of planning possible costumes for next year.  What can I say? You can take the American out of America, but you can't take America out of the American.

Looking back at my costume choices in the past, I'm beginning to see a pattern:

Halloween 2007:  I am Le Scorpion, an Italian swashbuckler from a French comic book:

Halloween 2008: I was a Musketeer (Aramis, my favorite).

This was a collaboration costume for a French Club Halloween party.  My good buddy Greg Jackson was the stalwart Athos and we even had a girl from the Master's program play Porthos to round out our triumphant trio.

In 2009 I was in France, again a country without the costumed traditions of the 31st of October.

Halloween 2010:  I decided I'd make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts.  We were able to wear our costumes to work, and I made sure to take no prisoners:

This was fun because most of my co-workers were dressed up as well.  There was a Princess Peach to my left and the most impressive costume of all was a Gizmo-duck from the old cartoon Darkwing Duck.  He even had the unicycle.

And this brings me to brainstorming for my next costume.  I've decided if I grow my hair out a bit, I could maintain my swashbuckling tradition with the roguish Flynn Rider:

I even found a pretty good costume!

 I'd have to trade in my sword for a trusty frying pan, but I think there's enough of a resemblance there to pull off a pretty good Flynn.  So this is where I find myself, trying to justify spending 70 bucks on a Halloween costume.  I really need to meet a girl that can sew, my life would be much simpler then.

What sort of themes do you find yourselves drawn to for Halloween? Are there any other swashbucklers out there? Classic movie monsters? Superheroes?  It's the one day a year where it's okay to be whoever you like.  Do not let it pass you by!

I Stumbled Upon an Interesting Blog Today

Browsing through the blogosphere, I came across a blog from a woman with Borderline Personality Disorder.  I hadn't thought much about this particular disorder in awhile, but it used to be a topic of interest to me.  This blogger is a high functioning professional and seems to be on the road to recovery with therapy.  Blogging about her road seems to be helpful to her as well, and gives the rest of us some insight into what she is going through.  It's definitely made me more hopeful that she will eventually feel understood.

http://downwardspiralintothevortex.blogspot.com/2011/06/road-to-recovery.html is the address.  If any of you are curious as to what goes on in the head of someone who has this disorder, its definitely worth the read.

Rules are Meant to be Broken

Today my youngest sister told me she was reading a book called "The Rules".  I was only vaguely aware of this book before, but the more she described it, the more I did not like it.

From Wikipedia:

The book argues that in order to attract and marry the man of her dreams, a woman should be 'hard to get'. The underlying philosophy of which is that women should not aggressively pursue men, but rather ought to get the men to pursue them.


I'm very much against the games people feel like they have to play, this whole 'don't let him know you like him or he will value you less' mindset is ridiculous.  There have been several times where finding out a girl was interested in me actually made me look at her more favorably, even made her more attractive in return.

Basically the Rules play off of the bit of psychology that says men want what they can't have, so if you want to trick him into liking you, pretend you don't care for him.  Women aren't the only one to use this play.  Men do it too.  Its called 'Treat the girl like you're a total jerk and she'll end up wanting you more.'  We've all seen the a-hole guy with the girl that's totally into the neglect or occasional abuse he dishes out.  It works.  That doesn't mean its okay.

That's the defense I hear about "The Rules".  They work! Fine..they might.  But if you have to trick a guy into liking you, is that really the guy you should be dating?

To me, the whole story seems very familiar:

Luke: Is the Dark Side stronger?
Yoda: No, no, no.  Quicker.  Easier.  More seductive...

It would be easier to get a girl's interest by mistreating her.  I've gone down that road before.  Its almost sad how easy it is.  But is that the kind of low self-esteem person I want to be with?  While easier, it leaves a hollow victory in the end.

Let's look at some of the infamous "Rules":

2. Don't talk to a man first.
3. Don't talk too much.
4. Don't meet him halfway
6. Don't accept a Saturday Night Date after Wednesday (even if you were planning on sitting at home complaining to your roommates that you're bored, you have to make him think you lead a glamorous life filled with dates and you can only just barely book him if he calls far ahead of time...like you're the freaking Per Se)
12. Stop Dating Him if He Doesn't Buy You a Romantic Gift for Your Birthday or Valentine's Day (make sure he pays the monetary transaction required for his end of the bargain...but you're not a prostitute, let's make that clear)
13. Don't See Him More Than Once or Twice a Week

Okay, so far so good.  Besides setting back women's rights by about three decades, they aren't completely weird.  Just a lot of "pretend you're someone you're not so he'll like you and if you're interested in him FOR HEAVENS' SAKE DO NOT LET HIM FIND OUT!!!".

But then the rules start to get really weird.

23. Don't Date a Married Man (Okay...good advice.  Kind of obvious but if you're reading self-help books maybe it bears repeating)
26. Even if You're Engaged or Married, You Still Need the Rules (Ie: Don't ever let him find out what you're really like, keep pretending to be disinterested or he might grow bored with you. Remember, men love a challenge!)
31.  Don't Discuss the Rules With Your Therapist

Wait....WHAT?!  Does that raise a red flag to anyone else?  There's a whole chapter devoted to not letting your trained licensed professional know that you're following life advice from an accountant and a freelance journalist? How long is this chapter?  Is this like the first rule of Fight Club?

First rule about "The Rules: Time-Tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right":
Don't talk about "The Rules: Time-Tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right".

39. Men Can Handle it if  You are Dating Other Men as Long as You are Still Available for Him (written like a woman who's never been in a relationship with a man before)

And the list of Rules goes on, explaining how you should not leave the house without makeup on, never answer the phone on the first ring, etc.

Here's my rules for dating, from a guy's point of view:

1. Be yourself.  Don't trick a guy into liking a glamorous phantasm you create for him.  Don't try to be what you think he will like.  If you do, that's a mask you're going to have to wear forever, because if you do end up getting married, he's going to eventually see the real you.  You deserve to be dating someone who likes you for who you are.

2. Be honest.  Laugh at his jokes if you find them funny, not because a Rules tells you to.  If you're excited to talk to him, its okay to let him know.  Its okay to beat him at a game you're better at than he is. Its okay to let him know you're smart, maybe even an equal partner to his own intellect, rather than a subservient food making sex machine.


Those are all the rules I can think of.  They probably don't work as fast or as easily as the "Rules", but I think you'll be happier with the end result.

Who is the Scarlet Pimpernel?

I freaking love the Scarlet Pimpernel.  For those of you who have no idea who that is, go read the book right now.

http://etext.virginia.edu/toc/modeng/public/OrcPimp.html

Go for it, I'll wait.

We done?  Okay.  For those of you too lazy to read a book, even an electronic one, let me sum up.  He's the freaking Batman of the French Revolution:  Rich, debonair, but entirely shallow and vapid playboy by day, but by night, he dons a secret identity and saves people from certain death.

This is a hero who survives by his wits, by staying one step ahead of his enemies, and above all, by projecting a foppish facade that serves as a shield against suspicion.  

As someone who often plays the fool, this guy is my hero.  He manages to dance circles around his enemies without them even fully realizing that they've been completely taken.

"I say, I do believe DC Comics owes me a royalty...wot?"

The musical based on the book is playing this month in Ogden, Utah.  My friend is organizing a trip to go see it and I want to go.  Unfortunately, he wants me to bring a date.

"But David, you're in Provo.  There's literally thousands of girls just waiting to be asked out on such a marvelously classy date as going to the theater," you might say. And yes, you are probably very right.  And the last time we made such an excursion, I had no trouble finding one.

Unfortunately, things have changed (see my last entry).  This is not the Provo of 2008.  Though I see beautiful girls all over campus, I don't know any of them (and I'm not very good at asking complete strangers to drive to Ogden and see a play with me).

Sadly, my life is this:  Wake up, drive to Lehi for work, get off work, drive to the campus library, research my thesis until midnight, go to bed, wash, rinse, repeat.  This leaves precious little 'get out and meet new friends' time, and even less time for romance.  

So I feel like the sailor, stranded on a piece of driftwood, saying "Water, water all around and not a drop to drink" before he dies of thirst in the middle of the ocean.  I'd love nothing better than to buy a ticket for a girl to experience what is without a doubt my favorite musical of all time.  (Okay, I realize its not super manly to have a favorite musical, but don't judge!)  The only trick is...finding the girl!  

The Return of the King

Warning:  In case you couldn't tell by the title of this post, I'm going to geek out a little.  If you're geeky enough to read blogs but not geeky enough to admit you enjoyed the Lord of the Rings movies, you should probably stop reading.  ;)

I have returned from Europe and I now find myself back in Provo, Utah.  It is a very strange feeling.   While I was in France, I listened a bit to the soundtrack in the Lord of the Rings.  I noticed something meaningful in the songs chosen for the end credits.  They all speak of a journey at different stages.

From Enya's "May it Be" (The Fellowship of the Ring soundtrack):

May it be an evening star

Shines down upon you

May it be when darkness falls

Your heart will be true

You walk a lonely road

Oh! How far you are from home...

A promise lives within you now....

Out of context, it sounds like something off of an EFY cd, a metaphor for a Parent's wishes for a child beginning life's journey through this mortal coil.  But in my context, it was talking about my trip through Europe.  Though I did not admit it, I sometimes felt like Frodo- a very small hobbit off on a very big adventure, (only with shoes and with green eyes instead of Elijah Wood's oh-so-baby blues).

You can't tell from the pictures, but I'm actually taller too...

Then winter came, and my contract seemed interminable.  Thanksgiving and Christmas made me realize how long it had been since I'd seen my family and friends, and suddenly Gollum's song became my anthem.

From "Gollum's Song", the Two Towers soundtrack:

Where once was light, now darkness falls

Where once was love, love is no more

Don't say goodbye, don't say I didn't try

These tears we cry are falling rain

For all the lies you told us, the hurt, the blame

And we will weep to be so alone

We are lost, we can never go home

Now, I certainly didn't feel as overdramatic as the schizophrenic Smeagol, but that line "We are lost, we can never go home..." rang true.  But winter passed and the sun came out, and soon my return home was pressing close.  

When the journey was almost over, suddenly "Into the West", from the Return of the King, fit perfectly:

Lay down

Your sweet and weary head

Night is falling

You have come to journey's end

Sleep now

And dream of the ones who came before

They are calling

From across a distant shore

Why do you weep?

What are these tears upon your face?

Soon you will see

All of your fears will pass away

Safe in my arms

You're only sleeping

What can you see

On the horizon?

Why do the white gulls call?

Across the sea

A pale moon rises

The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn

To silver-glass

A light on the water

Grey ships pass

Into the West

This was my favorite of the three soundtracks.  The song is a melancholy mix of hope and wistful regret, a sort of nascent nostalgia as Frodo realizes his journey is over and, while weary, is sad to see it end.  I felt the same sort of thing at the end of my time as a missionary, and I felt it again as I sat in the airport waiting to return to the states.  

So the Lord of the Rings is about journeys, specifically, Frodo's journey to Mount Doom, but also Aragorn's journey to his destiny as King.  These journeys can be perilous in and of themselves, but as Bilbo warned his nephew "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door.  You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

Now I find myself, like Frodo, back home in the West, carried by grey ships that fly so high that the water in the clouds appeared as silver-glass.  And like Frodo, I find myself unable to recognize my old haunts.  Did Provo change so much in a year?  So many of my friends are gone, graduated, married, or moved on that where once I could not walk five minutes without seeing a friendly face, now I see only strangers.  Or is it myself that has changed?  I feel that sense of isolation that is so common a trope for the hero of a travel-tale upon returning home.  

Was Thomas Wolfe right when he said "You Can't Go Home Again?"

My brother and I walking our hobbit sized nephew home...

Free Market Mind Trick

People seldom know why they do things.  Oh, most people think they know their own motivations, but few people actually sit down and ask themselves why they say, act, or think the way they do.  For some reason, the shower is the place where I review the previous day.  Something about being in a closed space with no distractions but the routine of cleaning makes me introspective.  Yesterday, I had an epiphany..

I hate free market economies.

Or rather, I hate the innovations that come from them...

More specifically, I hate having to choose between two high price items that both seem equally great.

Here's my dilemma.  Its about time for me to get a new phone, my old one is on its last legs.  For the past few years, everyone has been telling me how great the Iphone is.  My friends, my coworkers, even my own brother and father have been singing its praises.  Its just got so many useful apps!  Its like all of a sudden everyone's got little computers in their pocket, like Penny from the old Inspector Gadget cartoon!  The future is now!  (In this example, the future is a cartoon from the late 80's, but you get the idea)..

                                      

You gotta admit, this thing was go-go-Gadget awesome!

My point is that for as long as I've been entertaining the notion of a new phone, the almost universal consensus was 'if you want the best and you're willing to pay for it, get an Iphone'.

And I loved that.  My world was simple.  Easy.  Goal: Get a great phone.  Solution: Get money, but an Iphone.  It couldn't be less complicated.

Then one day, out of nowhere, suddenly everyone is talking about this phone called an Android...or a Droid, for short.  Apparently, what it lacks in app support, it makes up for in other cool features, like the ability to play certain kinds of media files that the iphone can't, or the fact that its name makes me think of Star Wars.

Now all of a sudden, my world is cast into doubt and confusion!  I have to actually RESEARCH this stuff and find out what the best item is.  Its not like when I bought a handheld video game player and the Gameboy DSi was the big dog in the yard.  Suddenly there are two contenders and I can't get good odds on either one.

They're both so expensive that I really don't want to make the wrong choice and have to regret it later....because, like this stormtrooper, it would haunt me forever:

Carriage Wit Classics: Non-Smokers : The Oppressed Majority

Today's Carriage Wit Classic comes from four years ago, during my days as a corporate wage-slave.

"Cover for me for a few minutes, I'm going to take a smoke break."  If I had a dime for every minute I covered for a co-worker so he could go outside and fill his lungs full of tar, I'd be making a lot more than minimum wage.  A LOT more. 

With new scientific evidence pointing out that second-hand smoke is EVEN MORE HARMFUL than originally thought, I wonder why at jobs we actively encourage smoking by letting people take five minutes off of work whenever they feel the urge to light up a cancer stick?

"But David, they feel so much more relaxed after a smoke."  Well yeah..that's called getting a five minute break from a stressful job.  Let me go stand outside for five minutes without anything to worry about and I'll be a lot more relaxed too.

"But David, they're so addicted that its impossible to go any period of time longer than an hour without smoking something."

Wow. That's really sad on a lot of levels.  Fine, let them take their smoke breaks.  But as a nonsmoker (and thus as an employee who doesn't tire as quickly, has better breath and teeth for customer service, and is far less likely to get cancer and suck up sick leave or company life insurance), I deserve to take five minute breaks whenever I'm sick of my job too.  Instead, I stay behind and have to cover the job of two people, instead of just myself.  Do I get paid more for my efforts?  Nope.  Its just part of the job.  Its what I get for not sucking on a stick of burning chemicals.

Another thing I was thinking about today as I swept up literally dozens of cigarette butts from the front of the store...Why does smoking give you a carte blanche on littering?  If I were to walk by and throw a candy bar wrapper on the ground in front of people I'd get glared at at best, and forced to pick it up and throw it away at worse.  But when someone finishes a cigarette, its perfectly acceptable to flick the toxic stub casually onto the sidewalk or road or wherever it is you are standing.  Anyone who's ever volunteered to clean up a highway can share my frustration here.  JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE TURNING YOUR BODY INTO AN ASHY JUNKYARD DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN TRASH THE OUTSIDE WORLD TOO!

Its bad enough you're giving us cancer just by walking by, but do we have to do your jobs and clean up your cigarette butts too?

Why is it that whenever a restaurant is forced to prohibit smoking on the premesis it makes the papers and causes a huge fit about civil rights, but everyone accepts the above incidents like its just the natural part of life?

Your rights end when they infringe on mine.


(This has been a public service announcement from our good friend Common Sense)

Manly Library: A Reading List (Part 1/4)

Just because school is soon to be out doesn't mean we can neglect reading for three months!  Consider this my public service message for reading! The more you know!

Butterfly in the sky...I can fly twice as high! Take a look! Its in a book! Its

                                            

On the Art of Manliness website, I have discovered a list of the 100 Books every man should read.

Being both a man and literate, I decided to see how I am doing thus far in my man-life.  It seems I have quite a bit of reading to do before I die.

100. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald                    Status: Read

I remember reading this one in high school and finding it tolerable.  It does, however, teach the man-lesson that often times the wanting is better than the having.

“He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles… It faced–or seemed to face–the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor.”

99. The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli                                Status: Read

Loved this one.  Machiavelli gets a bad rap, but really he's just putting forward a neo-realistic's guide to gettingn power and keeping it.

"From this arises an argument: whether it is better to be loved than feared. I reply that one should like to be both one and the other; but since it is difficult to join them together, it is much safer to be feared than to be loved when one of the two must be lacking."

98. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut                       Status: Unread.  Want to Read.

I think I'm the only person in the world who didn't have to read this book in high school.  From what I heard, I missed out.

97. 1984 by George Orwell                                                 Status: Read

Loved  this one.  Rarely is a book so influential that the author's name becomes an adjective to describe an entire concept, but 1984 introduces the "Orwellian" future dystopia to modern readers.

“But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother.”

96. The Republic by Plato                                                 Status: Read

I not only read this, I was a student teacher for a class based around it.  Every man should be a philosopher, and there's no better place to start than with Plato, the foundation of western thought.

95. Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky              Status: Unread. Ambivalent.

This one is mostly intimidating by its bulk, though thankfully its not War and Peace.  I hope to get around to this one eventually, but its not high on the priority list.

94. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger                    Status: Unread. Ambivalent.

I think I missed the window of opportunity here.  When I was 16 or 17 I might've had enough angst and cynicism to be on board, but that ship has sailed.

93. The Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith                     Status: Read

Another gem of my college education, this little book of common sense set the wheels of modern economics turning.  

“It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer or the baker, that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own self interest. We address ourselves, not to their humanity but to their self-love, and never talk to them of our own necessities but of their advantages.” 

92. For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway        Status: Unread. Curious

Hemingway is one of those authors so manly that even his semi-auto-biographical adventure books turn out to be rather tame compared to the adventure that was his actual life.

91. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde           Status: Unread. Want to read.

For all of you dapper gents and debonair swashbucklers, this book is full of impeccable wit and clever one-liners guaranteed to put the Bond back into your game.  Its a novel about pure decadence, and that's straightup interesting.  Its one of the reasons I loved "Dangerous Liaisons".

90. The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck                 Status: Read.

Another high school English book, I remember it being long and dry, perhaps not unlike California grapes left too long on the vine in the sun.  It does have some manly qualities, most notably the lenghts a man will go to provide for his family.

“Fear the time when the strikes stop while the great owners live – for every little beaten strike is proof that the step is being taken…fear the time when Manself will not suffer and die for a concept, for this one quality is the foundation of Manself, and this one quality is man, distinctive in the universe.”

89. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley                       Status: Unread. Curious.

I'm always a sucker for a dystopian future..

88. How to Win Friends and Influence People  by Dale Carnegie             Status: Unread. Ambivalent

I've never been a fan of self-help books, but this one pre-dates that craze.  This is a subject I've never had much trouble with, thanks to a liberal dotage of wit and  charisma, but there's always room for improvement.  

87. Call of the Wild  by Jack London                            Status: Unread. Ambivalent

I'm a little tired of the 'man vs. nature' survival novel, but if I were to go back and read one, I'd select this one.  I love me some Alaskan sled dogs.

86. The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt by Edmund Morris                 Status: Unread.  HOLY CRAP THIS BOOK EXISTS?!

Theodore Roosevelt is the manliest American president ever! Even his biography doesn't have a lame title like "The Life of Theodore Roosevelt" or even "Theodore Roosevelt: Bear Killer".  Its the RISE of THEODORE ROOSEVELT.  Like its the ascension of a new epoch of manliness and mustaches, which, in a way, it was. I can't believe I never knew about this book!

85. Swiss Family Robinson by Johann David Wyss                          Status: Unread. Ambivalent

I might've liked this one as a boy but the magic of building tree houses and fighting pirates is something that doesn't quite grasp my imagination anymore.

84. Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac                                                 Status: Unread. Curious.

A book about escaping the pressures of modern life and getting back to appreciating the simple things.  I'm basically living that life right now in my poverty...after reading this book I can say its more of a beatnik disdain for wealth and stability and less the result of student loans.

83. The Illiad and Odyssey of Homer                                            Status: Read

(2 for 1 special). The first thing I did after learning how to read was devour all the Dr. Seuss books in the kindergarten library.  Once that was done, the SECOND thing I did was wander into the Mythology section and start reading everything I could get my hands on in Greek and Roman mythology.  I've loved it ever since, and these two books do not disappoint my thirst for the epic.

82. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller                                                      Status: Unread. Curious.

Another book that influenced modern terminology.  Don't be a Michael Scott and use this phrase without a passing familiarity of its origins.  

81. Walden by Henry David Thoreau                                           Status: Read

This one goes back to my teenage years, sitting outside in a tree in the summer waxing philosophical and even sentimental about the tranquility of nature.  Though I'm not totally on board with the Transcendental movement, I think ever man deserves a sabbatical from the this modern life at least once.

80.  Lord of the Flies  by William Golding                                   Status: Unread. Want to read.

Another high school classic that I missed out on.  I've always been fascinated by sociology and human behavior, as well as what happens when you strip the veneer of civilization from our brutal natures.

79.  The Master and the Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov        Status: Unread. Curious.

My exposure to Russian literature is sadly lacking, but this one sounds good.  The devil visits Moscow and makes fun of their enlightened skepticism. 

78.  Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut                                              Status: Unread. Curious.

Written as a fake autobiography, its supposed to be a hillarious take on abstract art that makes fun of the inflated self-importance of the artists and the high brow elite who consume it.

77.  Atlas Shrugged by  Ayn Rand                                           Status: Read.

An intimidating read at 1,084 pages, this was the perfect companion for one of my trans-atlantic flights to Europe.  The fundamental concept is that our world falls apart when individuals stop seeking their own satisfaction through personal achievement and feel a sense of entitlement to the accomplishments and work of others. This book challenges us on many levels…you may find it conflicting with your value of other people, her treatment of God, or any other beliefs you already hold. Yet, who can argue with “The most depraved type of human being … (is) the man without a purpose.” 

76.  The Metamorphosis by  Frank Kafka                                Status: Unread. Curious

A man wakes up in his bed finding himself transformed into monstrous vermin? Interesting premise..

Considering the bulk of my university education has been based around French literature, I'd say I'm not doing too badly.  Still, there's a lot left to read...  Next post I will look at 75-51 on the list.  In the meantime, what books have you read? Are there any on the list that I haven't read that you think aren't worth the read?  Men, what books on this list are on your "to read" bucket list?  Which ones have you read and enjoyed?  Which of my unread books should be highest on the priority list? Lowest?

Ladies, what about you?  Its a Manly Library, but there's no surer way to learn how we think than to read the compilation of literature on the subject of manliness.

And with that, I'm off to go sit in the park and read.

French Folklore: Bluebeard

Ostensibly, one of my projects out here has been to research French folklore for the thesis I am writing.  I like looking at the legend and then finding out what parts of it come from history and which parts are myth.  Unfortunately, in the case of the story of Bluebeard, the truth is far more disturbing than the fiction...

Warning: The true story is deeply disturbing.  If you have a weak stomach, stop reading when the fairy tale ends.

The Legend (as summarized by wikipedia):

Bluebeard is a very wealthy aristocrat, feared because of his "frightfully ugly" blue beard. He had been married several times, but no one knew what had become of his wives. He was therefore avoided by the local girls. When Bluebeard visited one of his neighbours and asked to marry one of her two daughters, the girls were terrified, and each tried to pass him on to the other. Eventually he persuaded the younger daughter (Perrault does not name the woman, but many versions state her name to be Fatima) to marry him, and after the ceremony she went to live with him in his château.

Very shortly after, however, Bluebeard announced that he had to leave the country for a while; he gave over all the keys of the chateau to his new wife, including the key to one small room that she was forbidden to enter. He then went away and left the house in her hands. Almost immediately she was overcome with the desire to see what the forbidden room held, and finally her visiting sister, Anne, convinced her to satisfy her curiosity and open the room.

The wife immediately discovered the room's horrible secret: Its floor was awash with blood, and the dead bodies of her husband's former wives hung from hooks on the walls. Horrified, she locked the door, but blood had come onto the key which would not wash off. Bluebeard returned unexpectedly and immediately knew what his wife had done. In a blind rage he threatened to behead her on the spot, but she implored that he give her quarter of an hour to say her prayers. He consented so she locked herself in the highest tower with her sister, Anne. While Bluebeard, sword in hand, tried to break down the door, the sisters waited for their two brothers to arrive. At the last moment, as Bluebeard was about to deliver the fatal blow, the brothers broke into the castle, and as he attempted to flee, they killed him. He left no heirs but his wife, who inherited all his great fortune. She used part of it for a dowry to marry her sister to the one that loved her, another part for her brothers' captains commissions, and the rest to marry a worthy gentleman who made her forget her ill treatment by Bluebeard.

This story comes to us from Charles Perrault.  It is one of the folk tales he chronicled in his Histoires ou Contes du Temps Passé. It is believed to have come from the Brittany region of France.  On the surface it seems to be just another tale of feminine curiosity and how dangerous it can be.  (Eve, Pandora, Lot's Wife, Psyche....even Belle from Beauty and the Beast couldn't keep her nose out of that West Wing).  

However, the historical inspiration for this tale is even more ghastly.

The History: 

Gilles de Rais was a man of contradictions.  A wealthy lord, baron, and Breton knight, he fought alongside Jeanne d'Arc and was a deeply pious man.  He was also one of the most prolific serial killers of children known to history.

He became a war hero, most notably during the Seige of Paris, where he was granted the right to add the royal coat of arms to his own, and specifically commended by the king for his "high and commendable services", the "great perils and dangers" he had confronted, and "many other brave feats". 

Once the war hero retired from military life, he began to spend his money lavishly.  Much of it was drunk away during wild parties, but he also spent a small fortune constructing the Chapel of the Holy Innocents, dedicated to the young boys killed  by Herod.  This choice would prove tragically ironic, as de Rais had innocents of his own to slaughter.

According to his testimony and that of his associates, it was during this time that de Rais began dabbling in the occult.  He testified that he began sacrificing children to the demon "Barron" in order to regain his squandered fortune.  It is likely that this explanation was fed to him by the court in an effort to understand how a former hero could sink to such depravities. 

He killed hundreds of children, mostly young boys.  He tortured and raped them as he killed them, laughing as they died.  

In his 1971 biography of Gilles de Rais, Jean Beneditti tells how the children were put to death: 

"[The boy] was pampered and dressed in better clothes than he had ever known. The evening began with a large meal and heavy drinking, particularly hippocras, which acted as a stimulant. The boy was then taken to an upper room to which only Gilles and his immediate circle were admitted. There he was confronted with the true nature of his situation. The shock thus produced on the boy was an initial source of pleasure for Gilles."

Gilles' bodyservant Etienne Corrillaut, known as Poitou, was an accomplice in many of the crimes and testified that his master hung his victims with ropes from a hook to prevent the child from crying out, then masturbated upon the child's belly or thighs. Taking the victim down, Rais comforted the child and assured him he only wanted to play with him. Gilles then either killed the child himself or had the child slain by his cousin Gilles de Sillé, Poitou or another bodyservant called Henriet. The victims were killed by decapitation, cutting of their throats, dismemberment, or breaking of their necks with a stick. A short, thick, double-edged sword called a braquemard was kept at hand for the murders. Poitou further testified that Rais sometimes committed his vices on the victims (whether boys or girls) before wounding them and at other times after the victim had been slashed in the throat or decapitated. According to Poitou, Rais disdained the victim's sexual organs, and took "infinitely more pleasure in debauching himself in this manner...than in using their natural orifice, in the normal manner."

In his own confession, Gilles testified that “when the said children were dead, he kissed them and those who had the most handsome limbs and heads he held up to admire them, and had their bodies cruelly cut open and took delight at the sight of their inner organs; and very often when the children were dying he sat on their stomachs and took pleasure in seeing them die and laughed...”

Poitou testified that he and Henriet burned the bodies in the fireplace in Gilles' room. The clothes of the victim were placed into the fire piece by piece so they burned slowly and the smell was minimized. The ashes were then thrown into the cesspit, the moat, or other hiding places.The last recorded murder was of the son of Eonnet de Villeblanche and his wife Macée. Poitou paid twenty sous to have a page's doublet made for the victim, who was then assaulted, murdered, and incinerated in August 1440.

Though the outlying village was aware that something evil was taking place in the castle, none dared try to stop him, even as their children began to vanish.  Peasants had been complaining for months that their children who went to the castle to beg never returned.  However, it wasn't until de Rais kidnapped a cleric that an ecclesiastical investigation was sent and his crimes were unconvered.  

He was charged by both ecclesiastical and secular courts of heresy, sodomy, and murder.  It is difficult to know the exact number of his victims, because their remains were burned after the deed, but it is estimated to be anywhere between 80 and 600 victims between the ages of six to eighteen.  He was sentenced to death by hanging followed by burning, and throughout the trial and to his death he seemed concerned about the welfare of his soul, terrified of going to hell.  He was allowed to have a last confession, and just before his death, exhorted the throngs with 'contrite piety' before telling his accomplices to 'die bravely and think only of salvation'.  On the 26th of October, he was hung and set aflame, though his body was cut down and buried before it was completely reduced to ashes.

This is one of those instances where the legend is far less horrific than the truth.  

Sources: 

www.wikipedia.org

Benedetti, Jean (1971), Gilles de Rais, New York: Stein and Day,

Wolf, Leonard (1980), Bluebeard: The Life and Times of Gilles De Rais, New York: Clarkson N. Potter, Inc.,