TUNDRANAUTICA

Bringing Home the Freshest Kill

Posts in the love category

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Lying is Good

An interesting read from the NYT on the importance of lying to the one you love.

Excerpt:

Love is a greater good than the truth. No marriage, no parent’s love of a child should be scrutinized like a pathologist examining his cadaver. Save your ruthless pursuit of the truth for the laboratory; we lovers would rather be like Shakespeare: “Therefore I lie with her and she with me / And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.” Don’t worry so much about ferreting out the truth. Take care of each other instead.

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I recently discovered some interesting insights about love in two unlikely places:

Hitchens’s book is the writer’s account of battling terminal cancer. In the afterword, his wife Carol Blue writes this passage about a secret she and her husband shared prior to a speaking engagement:

By the time I saw [Christopher] standing at the stage entrance of the 92nd Street Y that evening, he and I — and we alone — knew he might have cancer. We embraced in a shadow that only we saw and chose to defy. We were euphoric. He lifted me up and laughed.

We went into the theater, where he conquered yet another audience. We managed to get through a jubilant dinner in his honor and set out on a stroll back to our hotel through the perfect Manhattan night, walking more than fifty blocks. Everything was as it should be, except that it wasn’t. We were living in two worlds. The old one, which never seemed more beautiful, had not yet vanished; and the new one, about which we knew little except to fear it, had not yet arrived.

That passage is interesting because it covers two topics that are obsessive points of interest for me lately: Fear and Love. I suppose one could argue that fear and love are inextricably linked. I sometimes think they are.

In Murray’s book, the author gives marriage advice that seems intuitive, although many of us find ourselves mired in situations where such intuitiveness is out-of-reach. He writes:

…I believe that two people who love each other should be careful to avoid saying anything that will inflict hurt. Occasionally there will be an overwhelmingly compelling reason why the hurtful thing must be said. But if your prospective spouse says hurtful things heedlessly, or seems to take any pleasure whatsoever in causing hurt, break it off.

Some other, random and stray thoughts about love:

  • I think the best married couple on Twitter is the conservative writer Mark Hemingway and his wife Mollie Hemingway. Although my convictions and principles may be slightly different than theirs, they seem to be doing things right.
  • Love typically gets me into trouble, because I approach it with the same impulsive audacity with which I approach everything else in life. I love hard. So naturally, it often blows up in my face. Mega highs and mega lows, or as Frank Sinatra once put it:

…being an 18-karat manic-depressive and having lived a life of violent emotional contradictions, I have an overacute capacity for sadness as well as elation.

Pretty much, yeah. Although I’m not an 18-karat manic-depressive.

Remember this Living Colour song?

 

And then there’s Sailor and Lula, one of my favorite couples from the Silver Screen. Witness one of the most amazingly absurd scenes in cinema history:

 

Clearly, it takes getting pummeled by a gang of street toughs to trigger the realization* that love conquers all.

*(re: a DMT-style mental freakout)
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Love

Sometime soon I hope to write a post about love.

Until then, I leave you with this.

Feelings

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Sinatra with Pancakes

FRANK

Longform.org has reprinted a stellar Playboy interview with Frank Sinatra from 1963.

Some excerpts.

On feelings:

…being an 18-karat manic-depressive and having lived a life of violent emotional contradictions, I have an overacute capacity for sadness as well as elation.

On religion and God:

I think I can sum up my religious feelings in a couple of paragraphs. First: I believe in you and me. I’m like Albert Schweitzer and Bertrand Russell and Albert Einstein in that I have a respect for life — in any form. I believe in nature, in the birds, the sea, the sky, in everything I can see or that there is real evidence for. If these things are what you mean by God, then I believe in God. But I don’t believe in a personal God to whom I look for comfort or for a natural on the next roll of the dice. I’m not unmindful of man’s seeming need for faith; I’m for anything that gets you through the night, be it prayer, tranquilizers or a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. But to me religion is a deeply personal thing in which man and God go it alone together, without the witch doctor in the middle. The witch doctor tries to convince us that we have to ask God for help, to spell out to him what we need, even to bribe him with prayer or cash on the line. Well, I believe that God knows what each of us wants and needs. It’s not necessary for us to make it to church on Sunday to reach Him. You can find Him anyplace. And if that sounds heretical, my source is pretty good: Matthew,Five to Seven, The Sermon on the Mount.

On the Cold War:

Fear is the enemy of logic. There is no more debilitating, crushing, self-defeating, sickening thing in the world—to an individual or to a nation. If we continue to fear the Russians, and if they continue to fear us, then we’re both in big trouble. Neither side will be able to make logical, reasoned decisions. I think, however, that their fear and concern over the ideological balance of power in some areas is far from irrational. Our concern over a Sovietized Cuba 90 miles from Key West, for instance, must be equated with Russian concern over our missile bases surrounding them. It is proper that we should be deeply concerned, but we must be able to see their side of the coin—and not let this concern turn into fear on either side.

On Communism:

Stop worrying about communism; just get rid of the conditions that nurture it. Sidestepping Marxian philosophy and dialectical vagaries, I think that communism can fester only wherever and whenever it is encouraged to breed—not just by the Communists themselves, but by depressed social and economic conditions: and we can always count on the Communists to exploit those conditions. Poverty is probably the greatest asset the Communists have. Wherever it exists, anyplace in the world, you have a potential Communist breeding ground. It figures that if a man is frustrated in a material sense, his family hungry, he suffers, he broods and he becomes susceptible to the blandishments of any ideology that promises to take him off the hook.

What a great mind. Read the entire thing here.

 

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#IStandWithRothko

rothko

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Summer

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My dog is my favorite non-human animal on earth.

Whenever we arrive at the dog park, we are barbarians at the gates, restless to permeate the membranes of these verdant cocoons; eager to find tranquility and smoke it from its hole.

The dog is my fierce friend, my loyal companion. When I’m depressed, he energizes me with his playfulness. When I need to relax, he is a palm frond for my aching ass muscles.

Sometimes people try to “tame” the contrarian fires burning in my dog’s wolf-warrior soul. To slow this elegant engine of destruction from its march through neighbors’ backyards and their cat-litter boxes.

But, to paraphrase something the great Jim Goad once said, “Would you ask Usain Bolt not to sprint?

If someone ever tried to hurt my dog, the forecast would call for a torrent of fist-showers. My knuckles would rain hell on his assailant with the ferocity of a valkyrie carrying its freshest kill to Valhalla.

Cat owners, yours is no disgrace. I love cats too. I actually own one of them, with another on the way (I’m “cat-pregnant,” with an expected due date of Autumn 2013.)

But I admire the chaos and incivility that dogs bring to the table. Chaos sells, and my dog’s buying.

Fun tidbit: My ex-wife and I enjoy joint custody of the dog. When he’s not with me being awesome, he’s protecting her and my son from the city’s most ignoble scum.

He is the greatest canine I know.

x-posted at When Falls the Coliseum

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A Song For My Spousal Equivalent

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