"Marriage is like a bank account. You put it in, you take it out, you lose interest."

-Irwin Corey

My current job is to read through a digital transcription of a 14th Century manuscript of the register of the ecclesiastical court proceedings of the diocese of Ely and fix any mistakes I might find. Basically, I am a super hardcore copy editor. Being an ecclesiastical court, most of the cases are about marriage. The Medieval mindset on marriage is absolutely fascinating. Here are some fun facts:

1. It's considered incest if your husband/wife-to-be is related to someone you've ever slept with. And these degrees of consanguinity are far-reaching. For example, if in your youth you boinked some girl who turned out to be the second cousin, twice removed of your fiancee, that marriage is forbidden.

2. You have to publish banns in front of a church before you can get married. People need to be given sufficient time to object to your marriage. This is not nearly as funny or dramatic as the official asking if anyone objects DURING the wedding, as we currently do now.

3. There are no marriage contracts. As in, there is no legal documentation that you are wed to someone. Most marriage cases involve witnesses testifying, "Yeah, they're hitched," or the opposite. This results in lots of hilarious cases where some guy contracts with three women, all named Agnes. Many hijinks ensue.

4. In fact, in order to marry someone, it appears you only have to say something to the effect of "I take you as my wife/husband." There are some men who try to get away with extra clauses such as, "I take you as my wife, as long as you behave yourself." The court seems to find no fault with these clauses.

5. The court can and totally will order two people who hate one another to be wed and "exhibit spousely affection" to one another. One case that sticks out in my mind is a woman who was married to a man for thirty years, but it was discovered that she had actually contracted with another man before that marriage, so she was forced to leave her current husband for this guy she hadn't lived with for thirty years and show "wifely emotion" toward him.

6. There was a lot of extra-marital and pre-marital boinkage.

Face it Kenny, no girl's gonna want to have pop tarts for dinner every night when they get married!

I really like lists. I think they're generally completely useless, which is why I find them so enjoyable to compose. Unfortunately for my nihilistic side, they can be quite revealing and helpful at times. Below is a selection from people.com's 25 Best Country Love Songs (Ever).

1. I Will Always Love You-Dolly Parton (1974)
Bittersweet memories
That's all I have and all I'm taking with me
Good-bye, oh please don't cry
Cause we both know that I'm not what you need
But I will always love you
I will always love you

4. Crazy-Patsy Cline (1961)
Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely
I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue
I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted
And then someday you'd leave me for somebody new
Worry, why do I let myself worry?
Wond'ring what in the world did I do?
Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you
I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying
And I'm crazy for loving you

5. The Dance-Garth Brooks (1989)
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd have had to miss the dance

6. Always on My Mind-Willie Nelson (1982)
And maybe I didn't hold you
all those lonely, lonely times
And I guess I never told you
I'm so happy that you're mine
Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

9. He Stopped Loving Her Today-George Jones (1980)
He said I'll love you 'til I die
She told him you'll forget in time
As the years went slowly by
She still preyed upon his mind
He kept her picture on his wall
Went half crazy now and then
He still loved her through it all
Hoping she'd come back again
Kept some letters by his bed
Dated 1962
He had underlined in red
Every single I love you

Five out of 25 of the greatest love songs in country are not love songs, they're heartbreak songs! Obviously, some part of Country equates love with anguish. It's as if the ultimate proof for your love is a life of torment. Good God, now can y'all see that George Jones and Garth Brooks are just reincarnations of Ovid and Catullus?

For this one transcendent good

Parents say they only want their children to be "healthy and happy." While the first wish is innocuous enough, I cannot imagine a more toxic hope for anyone than the latter. Aside from contributing to the false notion that happiness is some kind of ultimate state that one can achieve instead of merely an episodic emotion, it also implies that the goal of life is to be happy. What a selfish, meaningless goal.

This is not a diatribe against being happy. I like being happy. But should that ever be someone's ultimate goal, for their offspring or themselves? Should it not be success or passion or morality or understanding? Happiness just seems so very... trite. Would I want my children to be miserable? Of course not. But I do want them to be miserable for at least some of their lives. Being exposed only to happiness is like being exposed to only one belief. It allows for no growth in a person.

Does happiness build character? Do we learn more from our successes or from our failures? The ability to feel is a gift, and whether it be hurt or bliss, we should embrace it. We should not seek out only happiness, but all emotions that might define and shape our lives.

There is neither happiness nor misery in the world, there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, then we may appreciate the enjoyments of life.

-Alexandre Dumas, Le comte de Monte Cristo

My personal condolences to anyone who was disappointed by the fact I had strayed from the rigorous borders of classicism and medievalism.

Point Mutation in 1824 of the LMNA gene

I was originally planning on writing more about old age, after listening to George Strait's Troubadour, but today doesn't feel like a pontificating day. It's Sunday, it's the Christian Lord's Day, and for kids my age, it's a day to get over our hangovers.

Prodigal Son
-Dierks Bentley

Father meet me with your arms wide open
The world's done broken your prodigal son
Down that road I traveled
Everything raveled only came undone

Father lead me down to the river
Wash me in the water 'til I'm whiter than snow
I know I'm not worthy
But tell me there's mercy for the wanderin' soul

I lost my way but now I'm on my knees
If it's not too late won't you tell me please
You got a place for me
A little grace for me

Father meet me in the cool green valley
In all of your glory when my days are done
Name me as one of your chosen
Heaven's unbroken prodigal son

Father meet me with your arms wide open
Lead me down to the river
Meet me in the cool green valley

Name me one of your chosen
Heaven's unbroken prodigal son

I guess this is after all, very much a post about old age. It's about a child feeling way too damn old.

And it Burns, Burns, Burns

"Words are never 'only words'; they matter because they define the contours of what we can do."
-Slavoj Zizek

Tonight (or rather this morning) in a brownie-driven frenzy, I looked up the definitions of "love" and "hate." They were completely and totally inadequate. In fact, never once in my life have I heard a good, solid, comprehensive definition of either. Sure, people spout off aphorisms such as "Love means never having to say you're sorry" or some other bullshit, but there are no real definitions. People merely accept love and hate as such abstract, untouchable absolutes. The possible spectrum of love is too broad, so as to cover all manner of sins. The matter is complicated with the addition of prepositions; "I love you, but I'm not in love with you."

These tiny little words contain a universe of meaning. And for goodness sakes, it's just damned confusing. The Greeks had different words for friendly love (φιλία) and romantic love (έρως), and even "true" love (αγάπη). English really should take advantage of these very important distinctions. Also lacking, in just about every language that I know (which is nothing to sneer at) is a word that describes exactly how Catullus feels:

odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

I hate and I love. Why do I do this, perhaps you ask?
I know not, but I feel it happening and I am tortured.

And with this elegiac couplet, we can understand every single Johnny Cash song a bit better.

Achilles' Choice

The title refers to the movie Troy, which was both a bastardization but also a surprisingly breathtaking rendition of the Iliad. I do not recall that Achilles actually had a choice between long life or great glory presented to him in the actual Greek, and I believe this was an intentional change by the director. After all, being doomed is one kind of sad, but we all know that tragic is all about suffering from your own choices. Othello comes to mind as the perfect tragic hero; he singlehandedly destroys his own life.

Musicians, but country artists in particular, are the last real tragic heroes of our world. Consider the fate of Hank Williams, loving and losing, drunk and high, dying alone in the back of a Cadillac. The Old Guard of Country were given the choice. And they chose glory.

The Weary Kind
-Ryan Bingham

Your heart's on the loose
You rolled them sevens with nothing to lose
And this ain't no place for the weary kind.

You called all your shots
Shooting 8 ball at the corner truck stop
Somehow this don't feel like home anymore.

And this ain't no place for the weary kind
And this ain't no place to lose your mind
And this ain't no place to fall behind
Pick up your crazy heart and give it one more try.

Your body aches
Playing your guitar and sweating out the hate
The days and nights all feel the same.

Whiskey has been a thorn in your side
And it doesn't forget
The highway that calls for your heart inside.

And this ain't no place for the weary kind
And this ain't no place to lose your mind
And this ain't no place to fall behind
Pick up your crazy heart and give it one more try.

Your lovers won't kiss
Its too damn far from your fingertips
You are the man that ruined her world.

Your heart's on the loose
You rolled them sevens with nothing to lose
And this ain't no place for the weary kind.

But now our world is different; this is NOT Sparta. This is a land of no-smoking signs, AA and Taylor Swift singing about prom night. This ain't no place for the Hank Williams of the world.

Marie-Thérèse Walter lives in every woman

Songs about heartbreak are always hard. If you're really over him/her, why are you writing a song about him/her? Carly Simon really understood this paradox when she sang, "I bet you think this song is about you..."

Kerosene
-Miranda Lambert

I’m waitin’ on the sun to set cause yesterday aint over yet
I started smoking cigarettes there's nothing else to, I guess
Dusty roads aint made for walking, spinning tires aint made for stoppin’
I’m giving up on love cause love’s given up on me

I gave it everything I had and everything I got was bad
Life aint hard but it’s too long to live it like some country song
Trade the truth in for a lie, cheating really aint a crime
I’m giving up on love cause love’s given up on me

Forget your high society, I’m soakin’ it in Kerosene
Light ‘em up and watch them burn, teach them what they need to learn HA!
Dirty hands aint made for shakin’, aint a rule that aint worth breakin’
Well I’m giving up on love cause love’s given up on me

Now I don’t hate the one who left You cant hate someone whos dead
He’s out there holding on to someone, I’m holding up my smoking gun
I’ll find somewhere to lay my blame the day she changes her last name
Well I’m giving up on love cause love’s given up on me
Well I’m giving up on love HEY love’s given up on me

I particularly like the lack of focus in this song. There's anger and revenge and jealousy, but also a forced disregard for the Ex. She talks about "high society" and "dirty hands," but in the end, she's really angry at love. The perfect rantings of a woman scorned.

Lasciate ogni speranza...

The two warnings for this blog are:

1.) Very little of it will be original writing. I am not so arrogant as to think I can better express philosophical thoughts than Plato or Aquinas, nor more beautiful poetry than Homer and Shakespeare, nor more raw emotion than Johnny Cash and Hank Williams. (But I am almost that arrogant.)

2.) I expect anyone who has stumbled upon this blog to be intelligent enough to understand my references or at least be able to perform a basic Google search.

Philosophy and Classical Studies are supposed to be confusing!