I've watched them work, as the cold never fails to perk me up, and followed it with a hot cup of coffee and some morning sugar. It's going to be a long day, and I'm pleased to have run so much, as I won't be able to now, because the snow is unkind to my running sneakers. I'll need something more solid in me for weights today. I also have to force contact with Doctor Olsen and then mail out the painting I've done.
I finished the aforementioned painting last night, while watching a documentary about cancer, oddly. It's of the moon setting over Mount Rainier. It's kind of pretty actually, and while it's ultimately rudimentary in construct, I'm surprised I did as well as I did.
Mount Rainier was always sort of neat to me, because I'd read about it as a child after a small fascination with Washington, where Magi-Nation's team was headquartered. In Seattle to be exact.
I'd also like to talk about men.
It's a little bit of an abrupt topic shift, but I don't trust myself to segue effortlessly into it at 4:45 AM. Men have been a majority of the pioneers, as per the old outdated societal view where men did everything and women stayed home. I don't think that neccessarily means men, "had it good" so to speak. I mean, I imagine it would've been a pretty shitty existence when times got hard, being forced by an uncompromising society to work your ass off without the assistance of anyone you were living with - people would be kind of appalled to hear that nowadays, and would probably tell you that you have a lazy lover or something.
I was thinking about why I'm quite proud of my masculinity, and I think it's because of this advocated sense of misandry that's permeated some of society in the wake of the feminist movement and the rise of Court Television.
I would like to presume - as probably most anyone would of themselves - that I am a good person. I donate blood, platelets, and marrow. I work odd-jobs and train diligently to share what money I do have with the small handful of people I hold dear. I'm versed - perhaps not always well - in philosophy, and my views are flexible but still hold my convictions quite solidly.
I do not like the presupposed notion that I am best assumed to:
- Have held or currently hold the notion that I am better than women because of society's once-held belief that men should be on the forefront of industry and politics.
- Enjoy extraordinarily crude humor. I indulge in terrible jokes on occasion, but only within small circles of dear friends who are doing the same. And never openly or in public. If you know me, I'm far more known for my dry and terrible puns.
- Be a better candidate for criminal acts - namely assault or rape. I have a spotless record, and haven't even dabbled in marijuana, which has sadly almost become a "coming of age" event within the places I have lived.
- Be extraordinarily close-minded. I'm quite fond of many cultures and study them quite openly - one of my favorites being the Kurdish culture. I don't mind various sexualities, though I meet claims of some of them by extraordinarily young people with skepticism. Religion is a non-issue to me, as well - I think at the base of them, they are codices for living peaceably, and that their only danger lies in when they are organized beneath some sort of charisma or authority.
- Be very comfortable with the idea of multiple partners, or infidelity. I have very strong monogamist terms for myself, and have openly declined the hearts of many very dear people, and the beds of many less-dear people, for sake of my love for another.
I just hate the idea that the male gender should be nut-shelled as having poor impulse control, being privileged, crude, ignorant and prone to violence.
In closing, I guess I'd like to talk a little about Kaspar Hauser. When I was little, I'd read about Kaspar in a book that'd transliterated his name incorrectly as "Kaspar Hussar". He terrified me. Essentially, he claimed to been raised in a dark cell where he was left bread and water, and where he was occasionally drugged and groomed. He appeared without any clear origins, and presumably a rudimentary understanding of the language, in Germany with a note that essentially said: "We have taught him. He'd like to be a cavalryman like his father was. Enlist him, or hang him."
He could say little beyond "I'd like to be a cavalryman, as my father was" and "Horse", and was presumed to be a feral child or an imbecile. In the book I'd read, they mentioned people being quite fascinated with the animal-like ways he would pace his room.
People began to presume he was of royal lineage and had been sort of "swept under the rug", but had somehow escaped. Many housed him and attempted to discern his origins, but none were successful, and all had ultimately come to think of him in spite. When many began to suppose he were a liar, odd events would happen, where he claimed hooded figures attacked him with clubs or knives. They always left threats, and ambiguous claims, and finally, after one that left a mirrored note, Hauser died from the stab-wound that followed it.
With modern investigation, many believe he was a liar, feeding off his fame and attention, and that all the attacks were self-inflicted injuries to advert the notions that he were a fraud and to revive interest in his dying lore. Nothing was ever turned up as to his real origins or true identity, however, and I do believe that his tomb says it best: "Here lies a mysterious person, who died under mysterious terms."
What an oddity.
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