Random Ramblings

July 24, 2010

Pirates: Not Overrated




Playmobil pirates

Originally uploaded by R D L

According to Mark Juddery, pirates (esp. of the Caribbean) are among the 11 most overrated things in history. I acknowledge at the outset that Juddery’s is just one man’s opinion and that he is trying to be funny and probably also trying to rankle people a bit on purpose.

However, his reasons listed at Huffington Post are that most pirates were privateers and did not spend their lives burying treasure, but traded mainly in tea and spices and had nice pension packages. To make his point about the overratedness of pirates, Juddery has blurred the lines between pirate and privateer. Indeed, a privateer was nothing more than a legalised pirate with a letter of marque from the ruling monarch. The rules for privateers were only to attack enemy ships (read: Spanish and French).

And when the war with Spain or France is over, what happens to the privateers? They become pirates.

Some pirates, of course, start off as pirates. Some pirates are in the illegal employ of the governor of Jamaica. Some are buccaneers whose sole goal in life is boarding small Spanish ships from canoes, taking the small ships and then attacking galleons. Such ventures rarely go well.

The life of a pirate was not glamorous. Anyone who thinks otherwise probably works for Disney. Indeed, the life of anyone on the seas in the sixteenth through nineteenth centuries was not glamorous at all, be the seaman Royal Navy, East India Company, or pirate. Tight quarters, filthy conditions belowdecks, danger on all sides, little chance of promotion, disease, cabin fever, days without sight of land — this is the life of the man at sea.

And, while some pirates became captain through fair election (Juddery says all of them did), most did so through fear and prowess. Things only got democratic the moment they also got mutinous — see Kidd, William. The man with the longest sword and best tactics wins. People will follow him, so long as they don’t get sick, killed, or hunted by the Royal Navy or East India Co for extended periods of time (again, see Kidd, William).

Given the vast range of people who engaged in piracy from Sir Francis Drake to the twilight days of Capt. Kidd, that so-called “Golden Age of Piracy”, most of them probably were overrated. But we don’t care about them. We do, however, care about the adventurers, the glamorous stories, the lives of famous pirates and privateers — Capt. Drake, Capt. Morgan, Blackbeard (William Teach), Capt. Kidd. These men and their fantastic stories, as well as some of their grim competitors — some of whom may have been psychopaths — are not overrated, as Angus Konstam demonstrates in Piracy: A Complete History.

They actually engaged in derring-do and swashbuckling. Blackbeard actually did light smouldering tapers in his beard. Capt. Kidd did get a good bit of booty, but was also “the innocentest of all” (Kidd’s quote) in that business — he was abandoned by his Whig backers in London* and forced to attack Moghul ships under escort by the East India Co by his mutinous crew. Sir Francis Drake actually circumcised the world with a hundred-foot clipper (wait, that’s not it …). Capt. Morgan did cool stuff, but I forget. It was in Konstam’s book.

Other piratical awesomeness: Vikings. And old-school Chinese piracy.

Pirates overrated? I think not.

*Never trust a Whig unless he’s David Balfour of Kidnapped.

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July 22, 2010

Are Hobbies Dying?

A Recent Addition to My Stamp Collection -- Queen Victoria from 1899

I ask this question as a person who, until a couple of months ago, really only had the active hobbies of reading and writing.  The question came to me during my hunt for a Father’s Day gift.  My dad is one of those men who has a lot of stuff and tends to purchase the things he wants, so it can be hard to know what he does or does not have out of the things one would expect him to like.

When my wife and I were in a magazine store looking for Asimov’s and Fantasy and Science Fiction for me, she found the magazine Stamp, and thought it would be a good idea to give my dad that magazine along with some stamps.  I concurred, so alongside my science fiction magazines we picked up Stamp.

Then I had to find stamps to give my dad.  Canadian stamps weren’t safe, given that he’s likely to have acquired any of them over the course of his years of stamp-collecting, so I wanted to look for some British issues.  The one stamp shop I knew of downtown on Yonge near Adelaide was closed, but I learned of another upstairs on Yonge south of Charles.

Right.  My first trip there the place was closed on a Saturday afternoon.  When I finally did go, the place was dark, with counters ringing the walls where goods were possibly displayed.  Certainly there were the books of stamps to look through atop the counters.  Accessing any counters was difficult, though, given the gigantic heap of boxes piled up in the middle of the room and the presence of a somewhat odd man sitting amidst the boxes reading old editions of classic novels.  The man behind the counters was somewhat helpful, but I had little inclination to try and hunt for some neat British stamps to give my dad.  Thus I left the Stamp Market.

While this hunt was going, I was similarly hunting for model paint for a set of four knights my parents gave my wife and I for Christmas.  I had most of the right colours but lacked green.  Downtown did not seem to have what I was looking for, so I had to go out on the Danforth — at least it was still on the subway line.  My first trip out there was the same day at the day of the ill-fated stamp shop being closed.  Wings and Wheels is an excellent model shop, with a good selection of kits of various types as well as paints and some landscaping supplies.

So I had the paint for my knights (as well as a set of 1/72 scale Ancient Britons) but no stamps for my dad.  Using the trusty yellow pages, I was able to locate Central Stamp & Coin on O’Connor, which proved to be in the area of a friend’s house and quite wonderful.  I bought things for my dad as well as myself and walked to another hobby shop to pick up some orange paint.  There I learned of the Ontario Model Soldier Society’s annual show at Fort York, so I also went to that.

As a result of these shopping expeditions, I have got back into stamps and am working my way into model soldiers.  Model soldiers require a bit more effort and certainly more patience.  I think painting the red tunics on my Roman soldiers (1/72 scale — approx. 1″ tall) will be a school of virtue for me.

Yet the fact that there were formerly four stamp shops downtown and now one remains, and that one mediocre, makes me wonder if we aren’t letting hobbies slip through our fingers and out of our collective culture.  Sears no longer has the stamp and coin counters that Eaton’s had in the nineties.  Comics have basically vanished from 7-Eleven.  Toy and model soldiers are becoming more specialised to the extent that it is difficult to find high-quality ones, and then they have very high prices.

Instead of collecting stamps, coins, toy soldiers, and comic books, or making models, or writing poetry, or what have you, we are watching TV (either on TV or the Internet), or fooling around on the Web, or watching movies at the theatre, or playing video/computer games.  Instead of making music in our kitchens, we’re downloading it in our living rooms.

If anything is killing hobbies, it is our limitless resort to the entertainment industry.

But you know what?  I like laying out some stamps on the table and sorting them.  I like soaking them off the envelopes.  I like shaking little jars of Testors paint and trying not to shake as I dab shining silver on a centurion’s 2-mm-wide helmet.  I like — and miss — the clarinet.  Why don’t I play the clarinet more?  I like dancing — would that summer were not so hot!  (I’ll have to go to Edinburgh to do some Scottish Country Dancing there.)

And these things are no less fun than Corner Gas, Doctor Who, The Big Bang Theory, or the latest superhero movie.  So why do we opt for the entertainment industry over hobbies?

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July 17, 2010

“Bacchus who sets us free”

Thus writes Robert Fagles at Aeneid 4.73.  Although Virgil’s Latin (at 4.58) merely says, “patrique Lyaeo” — “and to Father Lyaeus”, one of the names of Dionysus — this phrase makes me ponder, “How does Bacchus set us free?”  Could one, perhaps, through an examination of ancient texts, produce a Dionysian Liberation Theology?*

Bacchus (or Dionysus), if you were wondering, is the god of the ancient pantheon associated with ekstasis – standing outside of oneself — which takes madness as one of its main forms, as we see in Fagles’ translation of Aen. 4.300ff (his 4.373):*

She rages in helpless frenzy, blazing through
the entire city, raving like some Maenad
driven wild when the women shake the sacred emblems,
when the cyclic orgy, shouts of “Bacchus!” fire her on
and Cithaeron echoes round with maddened midnight cries.

Bacchus sets us free.  Dido “rages in helpless frenzy” (my trans.).  And then she “bacchatur” through the whole city (4.301).  What is there of freedom in someone who rages, is helpless, raves, is driven wild, whose actions madden Mt. Cithaeron?

Consider, if you will, the life of an upper-class woman in the Graeco-Roman world.  She sits in the back row at the amphitheatre.  She spends most of her life indoors doing as little work as possible.  She shrouds her head in public.  Her first marriage is probably arranged by her father or some other powerful male relative.  She also has access to education, parties, chariot races, the right to divorce her husband, exotic foods, alcohol in moderation, and so forth.

However, in a world of clearly defined roles and strong, sturdy ideals of pietas — duty to the gods, duty to the family, duty to the country, duty to one’s honour — for both men and women, how does madness not set people free?

A Bacchante, as seen in The Bacchae by Euripides, has the opportunity to dance like a wild woman, to shake the thyrsus (Bacchus’ holy staff), to shake her wild her, to abandon the city and dance on the hills.  She is freed from the need to be decorous, she can live by the motto “Dignity Is for Chumps” as a Bacchante, she is freed from the inhibitions placed on her by herself and her society.  For a time, she is freed from her womanly duties and responsibilities without becoming impia.

Bacchus sets us free.  Father Liber (another name; this one is Roman) is also the god of wine, a substance that has its own dis-inhibiting effect upon people, making it similar to madness.  And since Liber is, himself a lover — “he himself is warmed” by the flame of love (Ovid, Ars Amatoria 1.525) — he helps lovers in their quest for the beloved.  I reckon Ovid recommends the use of wine in the pursuit of one’s beloved, and that Bacchus who sets us free will join in the fight.  It’s not necessarily advice I would give, but there it is in one of our texts.  We are set free by wine — by Father Liber — to find somebody to love.  And since scholars think that Bacchus was originally a fertility god, this only makes sense.

Bacchus sets us free.  Dionysus is also the god of the theatre — hence the City Dionysia in Athens, the great theatre festival whence we gain Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Aristophanes.  In the theatre, you are freed from your very self.  Standing on the stage, looking out in the crowd of thousands of people, you are not Thespis anymore.  With the mask covering your face, you are an ancient hero, or a slave, or a god, or an aristocratic lady.  You can take the words of the playwright, words wrought to make people think about current affairs, words brought to bring about catharsis, and you can speak them into peoples souls from behind that mask.  And it is not Thespis speaking but another.  You, Thespis, are free, for you are not Thespis.

For us in the modern world, there is much to be liberated from.  And while Bacchus was fake at best and a demon at worst (to take the ancient Christian take on pagan gods), a bit of the Dionysian spirit should hopefully be good for us and set us free.  Freedom from inhibitions.  Freedom from feeling constrained by the necessities of life around us.  Freedom from decorum.  Freedom from lovelessness.  Freedom to be a little crazy.

To quote a non-classical source, “A little madness in the spring is healthy even for the king.” (Emily Dickinson)

*The ancient texts will serve, to some degree, a similar role to that of the Bible in Christian Liberation Theology.

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July 13, 2010

Mediaeval Wedding

Filed under: Anglicanism,Christianity,Food,History — matthew @ 3:45 pm

On July 3, my sister got married in Calgary (yay!!).  The event was mediaeval-themed.  And when you gather together a bunch of Hoskins, many of whom are history buffs and many of whom are also believing Anglicans, you don’t get your run-of-the-mill mediaeval wedding where everyone is in mediaeval clothes, whoop-dee-do.

Now, we were in mediaeval clothes — of course.  And not just the bridal party,

clergy (who, as Anglicans, inevitably wore mediaeval clothes),

and most family,

but almost everyone present.

Besides the fantastic garb, the ceremony was pretty mediaeval.  The core of the ceremony was from the 1959/62 Canadian BCP — itself just a trimmed-down version of the mediaeval Sarum marriage ceremony (my translation thereof to be made available soon).  To the BCP order for the solemnization of holy matrimony, certain portions of Sarum were added.

These included a couple of very nice prayers (you could identify at least one because it ends “through the ages of ages” — I translated literally from Latin, rather than the traditional “world without end”) as well as the exchanging of rings.  After Bishop Uncle Derek blessed the rings, the exchange was as follows:

Juniper:  With this ring, I thee wed, with my body I thee honour, and all my worldly goods with thee I share. Then the husband shall place the ring on the thumb of his wife, saying: In the name of the Father, Then on the forefinger, saying: And of the Son, Then on the middle finger, saying: And of the Holy Ghost, Then on the ring finger, saying: Amen.

Janna did likewise.

In keeping with the Sarum Use, after the couple had received reserved Sacrament in the Lady Chapel, the knelt before the high altar of the cathedral.  There a canopy was held over their heads by their attendants, and various prayers of blessing were prayed over them.  The canopy symbolises the home they are to create together as husband and wife.

At the close of the ceremony, Juniper saluted his bride.

After the ceremony, there were the obligatory modern photos in a park.

Some of these you saw above.  Various hijinks ensued, inevitably.

Some of them involved swords.

Following this, we went to the reception.

To make the bride and groom kiss, we all shook blue pennants (cut by me, glued by Jenn).  The stone wall behind the head table was made by our cousin Andrew Hunt to cover up bookshelves.  He did an excellent job.

He also looks good in a kilt.

I was MC, and got to send the tables up.  Each table had a shield with a heraldic figure on it, and they were called in that manner, from House of the Unicorn to House of the Boar (not Bore).  There was ham, chicken, green beans, potatoes, carrots, and salad.  Forks were optional.

There was also mead.  And I got to hold Juniper’s drinking horn, one of the moments of glory in this short life of mine.

Following dinner, there was cake.  Uncle Derek prayed the traditional Hoskin prayer of blessing over wedding cakes, then they cut the cake.

Then I changed into modern clothing and did the mediaeval Scottish sword dance

We followed the Sword Dance with mediaeval group dances, which are clearly the ancestors of Scottish Country Dancing.  We did a Pavane and two things with silly names such as “Peascop.”  They were good fun, and I have no photos to show you of them.

There was also a first dance, of which my photos are trapped on a memory card at the moment.  Here are some more pleasant photos for your viewing pleasure, such as my Dad’s fantastic cope.

And my brother Jonathan and his matching family.

And my lovely wife and I.

And Uncle Ted and Mark’s fantastic costumes cannot go without mention.  Uncle Ted originally had boot covers, but there was a costume malfunction.  They lie abandoned beside him.

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April 23, 2010

Speculative Fiction

Filed under: Books,Literature — matthew @ 12:50 pm

A couple of years ago, I declared that I “used to be” a big Science Fiction geek/nerd (I forget which).  I was told that by no means had I ceased.  I’m not sure how big said geekiness is at this point in my life, having discovered “literary” fiction and ancient literature and theology and liturgy to keep my reading hours busy alongside Science Fiction & Fantasy.

Nevertheless, I am a fan of Science Fiction & Fantasy, of “Speculative Fiction”.  This type of fiction, be it written, drawn, filmed, is essentially the fiction of speculation, with creative twists and turns and characterisations based on “What if . . .”  For example:

What if you could “tesser” to different places and times in the space-time continuum?  A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

What if magic were firmly woven into the fabric of English culture and made a comeback in the middle of the Enlightenment?  Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susannah Clarke

What if there were a man who involuntarily travelled through time, and what kind of romance would be his?  The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

What if there were a world populated by mythical beasts which be accessed through furniture?  The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis

What if there were a galactic empire on the verge of collapse and a man knew what he could do to set in motion the events that would lead to the rise of another?  The Foundation novels by Isaac Asimov (the original trilogy won the Nebula for Best Series Ever)

What if Captain Kirk hadn’t died in Star Trek: Generations but was resurrected by the Borg?  The Return by William Shatner

What if the Roman Empire never fell? Roma Eterna by Robert Silverberg

What if an innocuous magic ring turned out to be an object of great Power and its destruction was the only way to save a world populated by beings from Norse myth? The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien

What if . . .

If the speculation creates a world that basically operates by our laws, it is Science Fiction.  Sometimes the science is imaginary, such as Hyperspace, or Psychohistory as invented by Asimov, or the time travel of Niffenegger’s novel.  Sometimes it is real science applied to a future circumstance.  If speculation involves magic and mythical beasts, then it is fantasy.  Or if the story has plastic and rivets, it’s Science Fiction, whereas if it has trees and dirt, it’s fantasy.  This is not always true, as in the various Pern novels by Anne McCaffrey, which are actually Science Fiction, but the science is lowtech and we see the results at the far end of genetic engineering.  There is also a subset called “Urban Fantasy”, apparently, which I should read some of, since I’m writing such a beast.

Speculative Fiction creates a space where questions can be explored in creative ways.  There is often beautiful, glorious art produced in these novels — at least the good ones.  Speculative Fiction often has better storytelling than “literary” fiction frequently does.  It can also come equipped with everything “literary” fiction can boast — symbolism, psychologically true characters, rhetorical devices, themes that resonate with audiences, and so forth.

I like SF, and I hope you do too.  If you have dismissed it out of hand, I urge you to try again.  You might be surprised by what you find.

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April 20, 2010

Lies We Tell About the Classical World

Filed under: Classics,History,movies — matthew @ 9:44 pm

Yesterday morning, following the opening of my birthday gifts, a battle ensued on my coffee table — Romans vs. Gauls:

The battle consisted mainly of Romans smashing into Gauls and vice versa.  Plastic warriors do not really engage in true combat.  No limbs are hacked off.  No one is stabbed.  Anyway, in the course of the battle, it became clear that the Romans desired the Gauls to surrender and submit to their rule, for the Romans would “civilise” the Gauls.  Just look at their civilised order in battle:

The Gauls, however protested that they didn’t really wish to be “civilised” by the Romans.  They did not see themselves as being any better off having learned Latin, built aqueducts, adopted Roman religion, banned Druidism, built amphitheatres for gladiatorial combat, and so forth.  They were Gauls, and they liked it that way.

Nevertheless, following the battle, one Gaul submitted himself for “civilisation,” while another was chased into hiding by a Latin Primer.

The lie referenced in the title of this post is that the barbarians conquered by Rome profited from the introduction of Roman civilisation.  In many ways — most notably those of engineering and stability — this is true.  Thus, The Life of Brian:

One could also point out to these poor Gauls that without Rome conquering them we’d never have the French.

However, I don’t think the Gaulish chieftain would really have given a flying fig about that guy in the tabard.

All Playmobil warriors featured in this post were birthday presents from Jennifer.

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April 15, 2010

The Heroic Age

Filed under: Classics,Literature — matthew @ 4:31 pm

From a “Classical” standpoint, the “Heroic Age” is that period of mythological time poised between the Bronze Age and the Iron Age.  It is the age of the great heroes, of Perseus, Herakles, Jason, Bellerophon, and the Trojan War.  The Heroic Age is the inspiration for many of the great tales of Greek myth.  Brave, valorous men lived at this time.  They did fell deeds of great renown.  They travelled the world, did battle with monsters, saved maidens from certain death.  Their deeds of might and glory in skill of arms, speed of wit, and strength of body live on in the consciousness of Western Society to this very day.  Historically, if any of this really came close to happening, it was the Mycenaean Age of c. 1600 – 1100 BC.  At the end of this Age there was a “Dark Age” until the invention of letters and the re-emergence of Greek culture with Homer.

When the Romans adopted Greek mythotheology as their own, they took on this Heroic Age as well.  Yet for them, it really began at the end of Troy, with Aeneas.  And this Heroic Age continued from Aeneas through the Alban kings to Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome.  These men were also men of renown, men of fell deeds, etc.  They were the heroes of Rome, as were their descendants who lived in the Regal Period (c. 750-509 BC) and to a certain degree, the Early Republic (men like Brutus and Mucius Scaevola jump to mind).  They are the men of local legend, men whose memories lived on in the minds of their descendants for centuries to come.

When we turn to other societies, we see that they, too, have their Heroic Age.  The Germanic peoples — Scandinavians, Anglo-Saxons, Germans — turn to the waning days of Rome and the rise of the Germanic kings, to the Volsungs and Niflungs, to men such as Sigmund, Sigurd (Sigfried), and Gunnar whose enemies are not only the dragon Fafnir but also Atli — Attila the Hun, d. AD 453.  These are also the days of Beowulf, the Geatish prince who fought Grendel in Denmark, as well as of Hengest and Horsa, the legendary leaders of the Anglo-Saxon invasion of Britain.

Coinciding or shortly after the Germanic Heroic Age is the British Heroic Age — the Age of Arthur, when the Celtic peoples of Britain, long-deserted by Rome, rose together under the headship of Arthur and drove out the Saxons at the Battle of Mount Badon.  An excessive amount of literature has been composed celebrating the deeds of King Arthur and his associates, the legendary “Knights of the Round Table.”  If Arthur was real, his dates could have been c. AD 465-542.

What is our Heroic Age?  Who are the men of whom we shall sing songs?  We certainly have few enough about whom we already do — the best we get are World War II movies.  May we find heroes in these twilit days of Western Society, men and women of renown and fell deeds of great valour worth singing about.

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April 9, 2010

Who is your favourite Olympian?

Filed under: Books,Classics,Literature — matthew @ 12:05 pm

A question from Elijah, the ten-year-old who recently read Zeus: King of the Gods: Who is your favourite Olympian?

I’m not good at favourites.  Sometimes the idea of Hermes, god of thieves, tickles my fancy.  Or Poseidon the Thunderer.  Overall, however, no matter how hot Hephaistos can get, no matter how elegant Aphrodite can be, no matter how mad Ares gets, or how mighty Zeus reveals himself to be, I like Athena.

Why Athena?

Well, if you’ve read Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips, you’ll have seen an interesting portrayal of Athena as the goddess of wisdom: the absent-minded professor of the Olympian Gods.  She can see perfectly everything that’s going on around her, but through the diminishing of her power (as all the Olympians were experiencing in that novel), she was incapable of expressing her ineffable thoughts to the other Olympians in a comprehensible way.

Kind of like me sometimes.  When I’m finally a Classics/Theology prof, I’ll be that sort of ruffled, absent-minded type.  So I identify with that reading of Athena’s character.

But Athena, traditionally, is truly wise.  She is the goddess of wisdom and planning.  She favours the likes of wily/crafty/sly Odysseus in The Odyssey.  She takes on multiple forms to achieve her ends.  She can see the path necessary to achieve her desire outcome.  Wisdom the practical application of clear knowledge.  Grey-eyed Athena, owl on her shoulder, is wise.

Since Athena is wise, her other attribute, goddess of war, means that she is the goddess of clever wars you can win.  She is the goddess of good strategy and smart moves on the battlefield.  This in contrast to her brother Ares who is the wild, crazy, ill-advised, destructive side of war.  Ares is kind of like the god of violence.  Athena will have what you need to win the day.

Why else Athena?  She’s the goddess of the Parthenon, and it’s pretty sweet.  Also the goddess of Athens, and ancient Athens rocked pretty hard.  She led the Olympians to victory in the Gigantomachy.  That’s gotta count for something.  And she was self-generated out of Zeus’ head.  SWEET!  So many reasons to like Athena.

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April 8, 2010

The Eldest Olympian . . .

Filed under: Books,Classics,Literature,Websites — matthew @ 11:14 am

On Tuesday, I got out of the library (and read) Zeus: King of the Gods by George O’Connor.  It’s the first in the series of graphic novels OLYMPIANS by O’Connor, published by First Second.  In this excellent graphic novel, O’Connor recounts for his readers in dramatic fashion Hesiod’s Theogony, specifically the succession of Ouranos, Titans, Olympians.  Thus it is an origins story, telling the rise of Zeus to becoming King of the Gods.

Having read it while my charge slept, I left it at work because his dad was interested.  After he read it, then the older son read it.  The older son and I were talking about Greek gods this morning (a topic I enjoy but rarely get to dig into), and upon examination of the family tree provided in the graphic novel, he asked by Aphrodite had no parents.  So I referred him to the part of the story that talks about Kronos cutting Ouranos with his sickle, and how some of it fell into the sea, and turned to foam.  Aphrodite was born from the foam on the island of Cyprus, where I used to live.  (O’Connor leaves out that the foam was created by Ouranos’ severed testicles, but we’ll let him fiddle with Hesiod a little bit.)

A little bit later, while he was perusing www.olympiansrule.com, First Second’s accompanying website, this observant ten-year-old noted that if Aphrodite is older than the Olympians, why does she live with them?  I said I wasn’t really sure.  But it’s an interesting fact, if we go by Hesiod rather than references in Homer and elsewhere to Aphrodite being Zeus’ daughter.  Aphrodite was born of Ouranos’ testicular foam before Rhea gave birth to the Olympian gods.  She is, therefore, of the same breed and generation as the Giants, Nymphs, Fates, Furies.

Aphrodite’s “siblings” are all primal.  They are beings of force, divinities that are sometimes characterised as impersonal forces, beings that could be characterised as the metaphysical or spiritual essence of what they represent.

Aphrodite is, herself, primal as well.  It makes sense that she would pre-date the Olympians, especially the over-amorous Zeus and his ever-multiplying offspring.  She is the goddess of “love”, as I told this young boy today.  By love we mean sex and sexual reproduction and the romantic trappings that go with it.  If the world is to be populated, then its inhabitants must copulate.  If Zeus’ children are to be born, he must have a sexual drive.  Aphrodite provides this.

Since Aphrodite is so important to the population and development of the world, it makes sense that she would reside with the Olympians, who are also highly important, governing weather, marriage, childbirth, celestial bodies, crops and plant growth, death, the sea, music, poetry, wisdom, battle, and so forth.

Another primal god along similar lines is Eros.  In Hesiod, Eros is one of the oldest deities around.  He came forth from Chaos at the beginning of all things, self-formed with neither father nor mother.  No sea foam for Eros!  The website Theoi makes a distinction between this Eros and the son of Aphrodite.  I do not.  They are the same driving force, the same primal urge to desire, to grasp, to lust, to long for something or someone else.  It is perfectly logical that this being of desire would be one of the beings lying at the root of the universe.

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April 7, 2010

On Consumption

Filed under: Books,Food,Literature,music — matthew @ 10:51 am

I’m not talking about the Romantic disease, here.  I’m talking about the consumption of stuff by human beings.  Ecologically, human beings are consumers.  So are mice, dogs, cats, lions, crabs, ants, and bacteria.  Some of the radicals of the world talk as though we should cease to be “consumers”.  This will never happen.

However, we can regulate our consumption, can we not?  And we can make something other than “consumer” our primary identity.

When a mouse consumes, it eats plant matter of some sort and carries on as usual.  Humans consume more than food, however.  We consume other physical needs such as clothing and hygiene products.  We also consume technological goods that make life easier — shovels, cars, gasoline, laptops, iPhones, bicycles, walking sticks.  Our consumption also includes goods we require or think we require for our jobs, such as specific clothing, staplers, pens, paper, printers, ink, and so forth.  On top of these goods, we also consume things for our own entertainment and leisure time — DVD’s, CD’s, books, movie tickets, junk food, Nintendos, iPods.  A certain degree of consumption in all these areas will be necessary, I reckon, for a balanced human life.

However, we consume other things as well.  We don’t just consume books as goods to purchase, but we tear through them like cheap hookers, toss them aside and read the next book on the list indiscriminately.  We do not have love affairs with books.  We consume them.  We consume all art, in fact.  To a degree, this is inevitable, for art is to some extent entertainment.  We consume plays, we consume paintings, sculptures, and conceptual pieces.  We consume operas, symphonies, rock songs, and hip hop.  Art is a commodity and we devour it like potato chips.

We can also consume relationships.  We can eat people and how they relate to us in a metaphysical way, destroying them and ourselves in the process.  We consume friends, family, co-workers, people at church, teammates.  We consume employees, sucking as many hours and as much productivity out of them so that they have little energy and drive left for the rest of their lives.  We consume spouses, ensuring that they are required to be at home during all hours of spare time and contributing to the household and our own petty needs.  We consume children in the same way.  We consume church members by thrusting them onto committees and “plugging them in” to small groups, Bible studies, extra church services, ministries on Sunday morning, and making them feel guilty as though they aren’t real believers if they aren’t that “devoted” to the local congregation to do all these things.  We consume teammates by criticising their plays endlessly, by yelling at the other team, by only ever talking about the sport with them, by seeking endless practices for the “big game” morning, noon, and night.

The consumption of stuff can surely be regulated.  Buy less.  Eat less.  Spend less time watching TV and on the Internet.  Watch fewer films.  Spend more time nurturing the books you read.  Contemplate the art in the gallery — surely a few paintings observed well and fully are preferable to gorging yourself on a whole gallery in an hour?  Fewer video games, less junk food, and so forth.  Drive less so you spend less on gasoline and repairs.  Resist the marketing that makes you think you need a Blackberry or an iPhone or an iPod or a new computer.

When we spend less time and money on the selfish, self-aggrandizing things, we can spend more time on healthy, whole relationships.  Sit quietly together reading books, exchanging meaningful book-related comments.  Spend time in museums and art galleries rather than mute in a movie theatre or before the boob tube or shopping.  Talk at dinnertime.  Go for walks — most cities have scenic areas.

When we spend less time and money on the selfish, self-aggrandizing things, we can spend more time and money on giving of ourselves.  We will have more time for volunteering and helping the poor.  More time for activism if you’re into that sort of thing.  More money for helping the poor and the sick and helpless and the hopeless.  We will have more time to learn about the great sorrows of the world, and thus more accuracy in how we give of our time and money.

When we spend less money on junk food and other unhealthy eating habits, we’ll have more money to spend on fresh ingredients.  And thus we’ll be healthier.  When we spend less time watching television, we’ll have more time to exercise.  And thus we’ll be healthier.  When we’re healthier, we’ll be happier.

A day spent eating chips and chocolate, drinking pop, and watching TV or surfing the web sounds like a dream and maybe is nice sometimes.  But once you’ve lived through it, you realise that a day spent in the company of friends, nature, or art is much more meaningful.  Time spent outside in the sun or the gloom is good for us.

Let us all regulate our consumption and seek the things that truly matter.  Save yourself time and money by cutting out Slurpees, coffees, Dr. Peppers, bad movies, comments on news items on the Web, the purchase of books you’ll only read once, and all the many unnecessaries that clutter up our lives day in and day out.  Then we’ll have time and money for what really matters.

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