Tagged: Special:Random Wikipedia

The love dart (or, how to cure the common anthropomorphism)

I chose nature writing for my English degree emphasis. At St. Cloud State University in Minnesota, where the back doors of many buildings open to a view of the Mississippi river, there weren’t a lot of other interesting emphases for English majors. That said, nature writing was a good and worthwhile focus, and just as unlikely to prepare the student for gainful employment as any English emphasis not called “teacher training.” St. Cloud was surrounded by some wonderful, vibrant habitats, and the opportunities for natural study, writing, and reflection are close and numerous.

The most challenging aspect of nature writing is to describe the natural world without overtly anthropomorphizing it. That prairie is motionless; it is not calm. That tree is old, but it is not wise. That mule deer that passed by you? It did not commune with your soul as you looked in its eyes. It actually didn’t even wonder if you were going to eat it. It can’t wonder. It’s a mule deer. Continue reading

Party like it’s 1199

Here’s another story I like. It has revenge in it and, like yesterday’s entry, more flaying. I don’t have any particular interest in flaying. It just keeps coming up.

Richard I (you may know him as Richard the Lionhearted) only lived to be 41 years old. If he really did everything they say he did—and by ‘they’ I mean Wikipedia—then he had a busy 41 years. He managed to put down revolts against his father, King Henry II. He had a major role in the third crusade, engineered by his father and Philip II of France. Somewhere in all this, Robin Hood was running around making mischief in Sherwood Forest, and pioneering the use of green tights.

But that’s not the fun part. No, the fun part comes in 1199, after he returns to Europe. Richard I is running around and fighting with the French (who, by his later years, weren’t getting along anymore with the English). Laying siege to one castle in particular, he notices a boy defending the walls of the castle with a frying pan and a crossbow. Continue reading

Marsyas, the martyred satyr (or, why I don’t like Tuesdays)

This morning, as I sit by the window and watch the sun come up, I can’t help but think of Marsyas. Marsyas was a satyr, one of the male companions of Pan and Dionysus in Greek mythology. If you’re waiting for me to call him “goat-like” because he was a satyr, then good for you. You paid attention in school. Apparently, the “goat” aspect came with later Roman influence.

One feature of the early Greek satyr really stands out; they had perpetual erections. Permanent stiffies. They might have been like those Viagra victims who suffer erections for more than four hours, whose first call is supposed to be their doctor. You and I both know that isn’t the first call they make, however.

But I digress. Marsyas was walking around one day as he always did, enjoying some wine and his undying boner, when he found a double flute, an aulos. Sick of screwing and getting drunk, he decided to master a musical instrument. You have to admire the fortitude of a man who takes up a vocation when he has an inexhaustible supply of alcohol (from his buddy Dionysus) and can fornicate at will. Marsyas was a satyr with vision. Continue reading