JANET, WILL YOU (PUBLICLY REFUSE TO) MARRY ME?

I really don't understand how we got to the point where public, unexpected proposals are considered not only sound judgment on the man's part, but romantic. I mean really you're just forcing her to either accept your proposal while she's under enormous social pressure to say yes (which is a little creepy in the first place, but more on that later), or to look like a frigid bitch and have a long, painful walk out the door while every eye in the room is trained on her, wondering "Why didn't she accept? He seemed like such a sweet and non-extortion-y guy!"

Guys, just stop surprising women with public marriage proposals. It's a bad idea. No good can come of it. And what happens if you misjudged and she says no? Well, to make that possibility a little more real for you, here's an real-life example of how badly this could turn out for you. (Dude-in-this-video, I'm sorry to drag this out for you again, but it's for a good cause.)

I don't understand why people automatically assume that all public proposals should be accepted. Listen to that crowd; they LOVE this guy's proposal, and every one of them wants her to say "yes", without any of them knowing a single thing about their relationship, how long they've been dating, or even whether he would be a good mate for her (or vice versa)!

Imagine for a moment that you're at a coffee-shop. You turn to the guy at the next table over, and you say to him "Hey. Dude. Do you think that couple at the table by the window should get married?" His first reaction will probably be to look at you cross-eyed, but if you persist, he might spare them a glance and say, testily, "I've got no idea. Their relationship's none of my business," and go back to reading his Kindle.

...but as soon as the guy in that same couple you just pointed to goes down on his knee and pulls out a ring, everyone thinks that marrying him is a great idea, and that the woman should pledge the rest of her life to him on the spot.

It sets a bad precedent to set for the rest of your marriage, at the very moment of your marriage's "conception", to threaten your spouse with being made a social pariah if she doesn't agree on the spot.

Just don't do it. Seriously, guys. Don't.

Please Stop Shitting On Our Lawn

A warning for the sensitive and morally-upright: This post is going to include some frank discussion about the act of pooping. And I'm going to use some grownups-only words to talk about it. If this is a problem for you, then you may leave now.

After a long and bitterly,perhaps hatefully cold winter, the snow is starting to melt, and that means dog crap is everywhere. All winter long it's been building up, hidden by falling flakes, or buried under snowdrifts furtively kicked-over by lazy dog-owners to hide their shame and incompetence.

Believe me, I understand the impulse to just leave it where it lies. I've owned a few dogs in my time, and I know the embarrassment of seeing your dog pop a squat and realizing, to your horror, that you forgot to grab a plastic bag when you left the house, and now Fido is doing the deed on your neighbor's front lawn, and people are cruising through the neighborhood and you have to fumble in your pocket as they drive by, to send a clear message that I am being a responsible citizen and am picking up after my dog like a good dog-owning person should. Yep, that's totally what I'm doing, Mrs. Prius-Driver, just keep on driving by while I get this imaginary bag out of my pocket and you... drive past me... and turn the corner... aaaaannnnnd.... RUN AWAY!!!

I understand that feeling. And I understand that it's cold outside and that it'll be even darker by the time you get back to this spot and it seems like a waste of time and fossil fuels to drag your butt back all this way to where the Fido-bomb is situated and pick it up and have to carry it all the way back home in your car and then throw it away. But the difference is that when I forget to grab a bag before I leave home, I actually go back and do exactly that, because it's my job.

Frankly, there is no difference between letting your dog take a dump on someone else's property and dropping your pants in the middle of the street and doing it yourself. Both acts are equally disgusting, both are mortally-rude gestures towards the owner of the property in question, and either way it's still your fault that there's a steaming turd on somebody's front lawn.

I'm reminded of a sign I saw once on a small hill beside an apartment complex. It featured a dog holding a plastic baggie and wearing a disapproving scowl, saying "I would if I could,/ But I can't, so you should." To be fair, even if they could, they probably wouldn't (they'd just trot away over the next hill in pursuit of more caribou or something), but you're a human, you have the gift of sapience, and it's your job as a pet-owner to keep your pet clean, and that includes their living-space. Which just so happens to be the same space that the rest of us live in, thank-you-very-much.

A parent who was taking their child on a walk and allowed said child to remove their diaper and make a doodie on a neighbor's lawn could be reported to the State, and might have their child taken away from them because they're raising that child in an unclean and unfit environment. Maybe it's time we started doing the same thing for dog-owners.

We Wish You A Merry Non-Denominational Winter Celebration

People should just wish each other a "Merry Christmas!" and drop all this silly, non-denominational "happy holidays" nonsense.

There. I said it.

I support being inclusive as much as the next American, but nobody really means "have your own solstice-holiday, regardless of your personal faith or lack thereof" when they say "Happy Holidays". What they mean is "Merry Christmas", and everyone knows it. Hanukkah ended in the evening of Thursday, December 5 this year,and Kwanzaa doesn't start 'til the day after Christmas. Today is Yule, but store-workers are still going to keep wishing us "Happy Holidays" until December 25th, when they will abruptly stop. No They're not wishing you a happy holiday, they're just afraid to say the name of the holiday they're actually talking about.

I feel like it's dishonest for stores and advertisers to wish [people a "happy holiday" when they don't even know what other early-winter holidays there are, or how they're celebrated. Store displays may say "happy holidays" in the front window, but I guarantee that the decorations they set up do not include menorahs, Kwanzaa kinaras, or Stars of David. The decorations will probably include an evergreen tree, but most people don't even know that's a pagan thing to begin with, so it hardly counts as multicultural.

There's a sign at the recycling center near where I live which tells motorists where they can drop off their "holiday trees". But let's be honest for a second here: it ain't a Hanukkah bush, and it ain't a Kwanzaa conifer, it's a Christmas tree. Reindeer were not present when Judah Maccabee drove out the Seleucid Greeks and lit the first menorah. Snowmen have nothing to do with Pan-Africanism.

So let's be done with this fake, bland multiculturalism that fails to accurately recognize anyone's holiday. Rather than acting like we're celebrating everyone equally by simply replacing "Christmas" with "holiday", let's call a reindeer a reindeer.

The Founders' Arms

At the climax of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry pulls (unnecessary spoiler alert) the Sword of Godric Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat, and uses it to great effect against the Heir of Slytherin and his pet monstrosity. Like King Arthur before him, Harry draws a sword out of an unlikely place (get your mind out of the gutter!) and fulfills his heroic destiny; all's well and good.

"All hail Harry, King of the Britons!"

But it's never established whether any of the other Four Founders have weapons of their own hidden in the depths of the Sorting Hat. They've all got items which are important to them (the Diadem of Ravenclaw, the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff, Slytherin's Locket), but these last three are merely powerful objects, not weapons they might hand down through the fog of ages to help their future students in their hour of need.

Personally, I like to think that there are weapons for each Founder, and for the amusement of my readers I will now take a moment to do some baseless conjecture on the subject.

The Dagger of Salazar Slytherin

Figuring out Slytherin's weapon was almost too easy. It's obvious, really. For a House that's willing to "use any means / To achieve their ends", a dagger is really the only option. Naturally, it would be a poisoned dagger. Possibly made of a basilisk fang, or at the very least imbued with the beast's venom.

The Shield of Helga Hufflepuff

Hufflepuff's weapon was harder to decide on. We all know that "Those patient Hufflepuffs are true / And unafraid of toil", so their weapon must needs be something heavy, probably blunt, which requires great strength to wield.

At first, a club or mace seemed like the obvious choice. They're heavy, blunt, and associated with wood and stone, respectively. A morningstar (a spiked mace, usually round-headed) would even mimic the shape of the Earth, which is Hufflepuff's element.

But then I thought "perhaps not": Hufflepuff is defensive, not offensive. If the fight comes to them, they will meet it head-on, but they don't seek out battle. So a shield makes the most sense for the heirs of Hufflepuff. (And before you ask, no, I'm not sticking Hufflepuffs with the "lame weapon". Anyone who's familiar with Captain America knows that a shield bash can do some serious damage in the right hands.)

The Bow of Rowena Ravenclaw

Ravenclaw has her intelligence-boosting Diadem, which Hermione will tell you is a weapon in its' own right. But being wise, Rowena Ravenclaw no doubt realized that increased intelligence doesn't mean anything if it can't keep you alive long enough to use it. And surely she would realize that sometimes an application of force, in just the right place, is the wisest course of action.

With this in mind, a bow (and arrows, most likely bronze-tipped) would make the most sense as the signature weapon of House Ravenclaw. A bow allows the wielder to observe any conflict from a distance, carefully select the foe who poses the greatest threat, and fell them before they get close enough to do damage to one's self or allies.


Discuss: Do you disagree with any of these choices? What do you think the Founders' weapons would be?

On Birthdays, Post-Adolescence

As some of you may already be aware, my birthday is tomorrow. And once again this year, I managed to pretty much forget that my birthday was even coming up until just a few days beforehand, and as a result I haven't made any plans for a party, or even a little get-together with friends.

Having birthday parties as an adult feels a little weird. Not that I'm embarrassed about my age (27) or don't want an excuse to celebrate something with my friends, mind you. It's just that after your twenty-first birthday, you stop unlocking new abilities (like voting or drinking). There's a decrease in insurance costs in the upper twenties, but after that there's not much to unlock until you reach level 65 and can multiclass into "Cranky Old Fart".

Plus, we're taught as we grow out of self-centered childhood that we're not supposed to make a big deal of ourselves, or expect others to come over and celebrate our achievements. Going up to a friend and saying Hey, wanna come to a party in honor of how great I am at staying alive? just feels strange, somehow.

It never felt strange when I was a kid, though. All of my friends and relatives just lined up to wish me a happy birthday and give me gifts, and that was the way of the world. I recognize now that much of that wouldn't have happened if my parents hadn't been there to spread the word and make preparations, but now that that duty falls to me alone, I find it a little... Self-aggrandizing? Narcissistic?

...But maybe I'm over-thinking it. Maybe I'm just naturally a little disorganized, and don't like making people rush around at the last minute on my behalf. Or I could just try a little harder to think about it next year, before the day itself is upon me.

Now, I'd say that's quite enough existential navel-gazing for one day. Birthdays are supposed to be fun! So, for everyone out there who has a birthday, here's a celebratory song from a very special musical guest:

Happy birthday, Dear Readers. Whenever that may be.

Great Graphic Novels in My Life

Last week, I compiled a list of books which have had the most significant impact on my life and worldview. Like many bibliophiles, a large portion of how I interact with and understand the world has been shaped by what I've read. But reading is only a part of the whole picture, and if picture is worth a thousand words, than any graphic novel is worth at least a dozen books. The image can convey many things that the written word alone cannot, and when the two modes of expression work in tandem, marvelous things can happen.


I would like to present you, Gentle Dear Reader, a few of the graphic novels (and one comic strip) which have had the greatest influence on my worldview, more-or-less in the order in which I first encountered them.

Which comic books would be on your personal list of the most meaningful graphic novels you've ever read? Leave your list below in the comments!

1) Calvin and Hobbes, by Bill Watterson

“Hold it. You know what I'd like to see? I'd like to see the three bears eat the three little pigs, and then the bears join up with the big bad wolf and eat Goldilocks and Little Red Riding Hood! Tell me a story like that, OK?”

― Calvin

These comics are among the first things I remember reading as a child. To my mind, Calvin and Hobbes is without question the single greatest body of sequential art ever assembled. By turns philosophical, hilarious, poignant, and incisively witty, six-year-old Calvin and his tiger-friend Hobbes informed a great deal of how I spent my time as a child. Like Calvin, I was possessed by a great love of nature and exploration, and he inspired me to make many unsupervised trips through forests and go mucking my way along creek-beds, looking for whatever "weird stuff" I might be lucky enough to find.

I also inherited Calvin's disinterest in organized sports (which I carry to this day, though not as fervently as I used to), his love of unstructured learning, and the joy he took in noticing the beautiful details which grown-ups miss.

2) Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art, by Scott McCloud

"Space does for comics what time does for film!"

― Scott McCloud

Unfortunately, one of the views that I absorbed from Calvin and Hobbes was Mr. Watterson's disdain for comic books and graphic novels, which he called "incredibly stupid" (which I feel is a little hypocritical of him, since he wrote comics which were eventually collected and sold in book-format, but that's beside the point).Luckily for me, I stumbled upon a copy of Mr. McCloud's excellent book in the bookstore at Eastern Michigan University, and he immediately blew my mind clear out of the water.

Understanding Comics taught me to reconsider art forms that I had previously written-off, like rap and modern art. It taught me not to confuse the medium with the message: just because comic books have historically been the domain of cheap, badly-written, easily-disposable kiddie fare doesn't mean that all of them have to be, all of the time. What if people had persisted in believing, as they did in Shakespeare's day, that  theater could never be anything more than a cheap, frivolous distraction for the lower classes? Imagine how much poorer the world would be today, as a result of their shortsightedness.

3) Maus: A Survivor's Tale, by Art Spiegelman

“Friends? Your friends? If you lock them together in a room with no food for a week…Then you could see what it is, friends!" 

― Vladek Spiegelman, to his son Artie (age 11)

Maus is an oddity, and not just because it's a Holocaust narrative in comic book format, or because it's a Holocaust narrative starring cartoon animals (Jews are mice, Nazis are cats). It's also the most unsentimentally honest portrayals of a father that I've ever read. Despite living through one of the most horrific examples of institutionalized racism in human history, the Vladek Spiegelman is still intensely prejudiced against African-Americans; he's emotionally manipulative of his son, wife, and daughter-in-law; he's a tight-fisted cheapskate; he dismisses the feelings and concerns of those closest to him; and he constantly comparing his second wife unfavorably to his first wife (the author's dead mother). In a weird way, all this behavior this makes Vladek intensely... human, I suppose. Filled with all-too-human shortcomings and weaknesses. We can't all be Anne Frank, believing, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart. Suffering does not necessarily make one more compassionate towards one's fellow sufferers.

3) Watchmen, by Alan Moore (illustrated by Dave Gibbons)

“There is no future. There is no past. Do you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet.”

― Dr. Manhattan

Calling Watchmen "mind-blowing" doesn't do the book justice. That's barely scratching the surface of what this novel is, of what it does. Every single time I read this book, I stumble across some new insight, some new interpretation of the characters, their motivations, their inner workings. In eschewing the self-narrating thought bubbles of past comics artists, Alan Moore forces the reader to delve deep into complex and messy psychologies of these "real-world" superheroes, and the mechanisms which drive them to spend their nights dressing up in kinky, colorful skintight costumes and beating the stuffing out of petty criminals (which, if you think about it, is more than a little weird).

Moore also does an excellent job of pointing out that beating up random lawbreakers isn't going to solve anybody's problems in the long run. When Ozymandias (the self-styled"smartest man in the world") proposes taking action against a recurring villain who has just returned from prison, a bitter and cynical hero called The Comedian turns his acidic tongue on his fellow heroes, pointing out how ultimately pointless their nocturnal beatdowns are, in a world living in the looming shadow of the Cold War:

"You people are a joke. You hear Moloch's back in town, you think "Oh, boy! Let's gang up and bust him!" You think that matters? You think that solves anything? ... It don't matter squat because inside thirty years the nukes are gonna be flyin' like maybugs...and then Ozzy here is gonna be the smartest man on the cinder."

4) V for Vendetta, by Alan Moore (illustrated by David Lloyd)

"You're in a prison, Evey. You were born in a prison. You've been in a prison so long, you no longer believe there's a world outside. That's because you're afraid, Evey. You're afraid because you can feel freedom closing in upon you. You're afraid because freedom is terrifying. Don't back away from it, Evey. ... You faced the fear of your own death and you were calm and still. The door of the cage is open, Evey. All that you feel is the wind from outside.” 

― the anarchist known as "V"

I can't say that I agree with Alan Moore's politics, but they certainly make for thought-provoking reading material. I've never really read a coherent, well thought-out argument in favor of anarchy before or since, and some of the points that he brings up are pretty good ones. Governments always involve a loss of freedom on many levels, but these bodies to whom we hand over our liberties frequently do not have our best interests at heart. They're made of humans, who have their own interests at heart, as all humans inherently do. We tell ourselves that it's for our own good, that the alternative to government is chaos, etc., but ultimately, we're all free, all of the time, to do whatever we want. Most of us just choose not to, out of fear, uncertainty, the implicit or explicit threat of violence against our bodies and our families, etc. But the world only works that way because we allow it work that way.

5) The Sandman, by Neil Gaiman (illustrated by various artists)


“Everybody has a secret world inside of them. All of the people in the whole world. I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they've all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe.”

― Barbie (a.k.a. Princess Barbara), "A Game of You"

What can I even say about this series? It might be the best thing I've ever read, in any medium. And that's really saying something, considering how much I've read in my life.

For the first few chapters, The Sandman is a pretty standard horror comic about Morpheus, the King of Dreams, trying to regain his kingdom after seventy years' imprisonment in the mortal realm. It's good; spooky and atmospheric, but not great; not yet. Not until the last chapter of the first volume, when Gaiman introduces the most endearing personification of Death herself that's ever been penned, and then shit starts to get weird (in the best possible way). Jumping between the Dreaming, the "real" world, the skerries of dream, Heaven, Hell, Limbo, Faerie, the Underworld, various historical pantheons (both real and invented, ancient and modern), and an innumerable host of stories, The Sandman is a shifting, shimmering phantasmagoria of images, words, and complete self-contained universes, each one stranger and more sublime than the last. Reading this series will forever alter the reader, because it forces one to question the nature of reality, time, of the primal power of storytelling to (sometimes literally) reshape one's world.

It is damn good stuff. You should go read it. Right now.

6) Scott Pilgrim, by Bryan Lee O’Malley

“I feel like im in this river just getting swept along... And if I hold on to anyone, if I'm holding on for dear life, I'm not getting anywhere. I'm stuck. ...I never wanted to get stuck.” 

―Scott Pilgrim, Scott Pilgrim's Finest Hour

Scott Pilgrim is a coming-of-age novel for the Nintendo Generation, and I really, really wish that someone had shown it to me before I came-of-age. I think that it would have made me a little more at-peace with being single, and maybe a little more willing to ask myself some hard questions about  my approach to the opposite sex.

In musicals, when emotion becomes too high onstage, the cast spontaneously bursts into song. Scott Pilgrim does something similar, only with video games instead of music. But behind the magical realism and plain old silliness, there's a lot of important questions about the baggage that each of us brings to a new relationship, and the ways in which our past romantic failures (whether they were our fault or not) makes it difficult, and sometimes impossible, to start afresh. But that's actually a good thing, because if you forget your past mistakes, you won't be able to learn from them, and you'll just keep making the same mistakes over and over again.

7) Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood, by Marjane Satrapi
 
“In life you'll meet a lot of jerks. If they hurt you, tell yourself that it's because they're stupid. That will help keep you from reacting to their cruelty. Because there is nothing worse than bitterness and vengeance... Always keep your dignity and be true to yourself.”

― Marjane Satrapi

I'm abashed to admit that I never really gave much thought to Iran before reading this book. I pretty much just swallowed what the news told me without question: Iranians were crazy zealots who fund terrorists and jihadis and other unpleasant men with beards, and all they want is to see America burn. How ignorant I was.

Not only was Iran a pretty nice place to live before the Islamic Revolution, women had more freedom in Iran than just about anywhere else in the region. Which made it all the harder for them to accept the veil, and the chaperone laws, and sending their sons and brothers off to become martyrs of their faith. Persepolis made me wary (or at least aware) of the possibility that even in a prosperous and stable country, a small band of violent extremists can waltz in, play off the public's fears, and really eff things up for everyone else.


Discuss: Which graphic novel(s) do you feel have the potential to change my life? Tell me about them in the comments!

Great Books In My Life

I've been compiling a list of the books and novels that have had the greatest influence on my life. Not just in terms of when I read them or how I came into contact with them, but the novels which have left the most marked impression on my psyche.

These are the books that changed how I view the world. Each one of these books left an indelible mark on me, and in some way changed the way in which I experience one or more of the deep themes in life: growing up, relationships, war, poverty, adversity, triumph, defeat, anger, joy, love, and many, many, many more.

It's sort of like a bibliography of the research paper that is my life. The subject of my thesis? Life itself! The professor? Existence. The deadline? To be announced.

Lacking any better system of organization, I've tried to organize my sources not by title or author's name, but by the order in which they first entered my life.



The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien
An excellent introduction to weighty themes: travel, adventure, growing up, stepping outside your comfort zone, and epic fantasy adventure.

The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien
The first time I tackled this monumental series (in the fifth grade, no less!), I set myself firmly on a path of lifelong bibliophilia. To this day, I still have a great weakness for any fantasy novels with appendices in the back.

D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths, by Ingri and Edgar d'Aulaire
It's hard for me to imagine not knowing Greek mythology. This book is probably the biggest reason for that. I got my copy from my Grandma when I was twelve or so, read it cover-to-cover in a day or two, and probably haven't forgotten a single detail since then. I can still tell you any story in that book with only the illustrations as a prompt.

Animorphs, by K.A. Applegate
Teenagers who use alien technology to shape-shift into animals. Slowly, over the course of many books, the strain of losing loved ones, living double-lives, and always running scared actually begins to warp and damage their personalities. Practically an instruction manual for running a real-life underground resistance against an equally-underground invasion force.

The Hero with a Thousand Faces, by Joseph Campbell
This blew my mind when I first read about it in Muse Magazine when I was twelve. The author's deep-seated awe at the simultaneous diversity and unity of the human condition is about as close to religious as I get.

Harry Potter, by J.K. Rowling
I'm getting married in about two months, and the ceremony is going to be Harry Potter-themed, so you can probably tell that this one's had a larger impact on my life than almost any other book on this list. Harry taught me so many important lessons: that bullies are even more scared than their victims; that bad people can redeem themselves; that love is truly stronger than hate; and that it is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.

His Dark Materials, by Phillip Pullman
Ever since I was a child, I've never understood why so many authors like to portray children as innocent, or essentially good. This trilogy does a pretty good job of ending that old lie.

Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
I'm still grateful to my father for making me read this when I was in middle school, well before I had a chance to start nurturing any adolescent fantasies about fighting wars.

Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett
This is hands-down the funniest book I've ever read. It has caused me to literally ROFLOL. And it's also one of the wittiest and most insightful commentaries on religion, belief, and faith that you will ever encounter.

A Song of Ice and Fire, by George R.R. Martin
Even though this is definitely fantasy, I don't think I've ever encountered a more unsentimentally realistic portrait of the true driving forces behind the march of history: sex, blood, and personal grudges between members of the ruling class (whomever they might be). If you're going to try to rule something, anything, then read these books first.

World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War, by Max Brooks
I don't think that I have ever read a more frightening book in all my life. Not because a zombie apocalypse is a plausible scenario for how the world will end (it isn't), but because of the horrors that human beings would be willing to inflict on one another in their struggle to escape such an end.

The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins
Katniss Everdeen does the impossible: she's an independent, resourceful, eminently badass young woman who's willing to do whatever it takes to survive the Hunger Games, yet despite her incredible feats of endurance and fortitude, the acts of violence she commits to stay alive are never, ever glamorized. Which is the only way a story like this could possibly be told, if the author has a shred of integrity.


Next  Week: Dave's Compendium of the Greatest Graphic Novels