Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Reciprocation, or mixing metaphors, philosophy and math, oh my.

There are few things that feel as desolate as unrequited love. I certainly recall that feeling as a Young Teenager In Love (capitals required). But isn't all love unrequited? When we love, we don't attach strings - or rather, we shouldn't. Because it's the attaching of strings that makes the pain. Consider the central tragedy to the classic unrequited love scenario. Is it "I love her!"? No, although ironically that's the part we often blame or try to change. It's the followup "...but she doesn't love me!"

Hunh. Look at that string, or more often and accurately, that high-test steel cable. The expectation of reciprication is the single most common condition we attach to our love. Love is, simply put, placing the well-being of a person (or thing) above all other considerations. So if you truly love someone, you will not let your desires and wants place those strings on them - because that is restricting their freedom, which modern philosophy links rather intrinsically to well-being - you will simply let them follow their own path until and unless that path becomes destructive.

So where does that feeling of desolation come from? My christian roots bring me back to that old biblical command "Love your neighbor as yourself" and my modern education makes me take a closer look at that statement than is often given. It's an equation, and as mathematics has taught us, both sides of an equation must be equal. So you may well be loving your neighbor - but are you loving yourself?

James
(re-run: originally posted February 2005)

Labels: I think too much, reruns

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Salsa, baby!

I'm pretty sure I've posted this before, but here it is again, newly repackaged for Cooking isn't Complicated.

You will need:
5-6 tomatoes (firm not-quite ripe is best)
a bunch of green onions
1/2 a large white onion
1/2 a long english cucumber
a bunch of cilantro
about 1/2 jar of hot stuff. (my brother uses jalapenos, we use hot banana pepper rings.) I say 1/2 jar, because the ones we buy are big jars.
several clean, empty jars (or several hungry people in about 2 days).
something to pass the time. A movie or two that you don't need to pay 100% attention to is good.
----
You already have:
sharp knives
cutting board
large pot

Dice up all ingredients; smaller is better. Sometimes we leave some pepper rings uncut, cause they're pretty. Dump into a pot (including some of the hot pepper juice) and stir, leave for a day or two. Decant into jars. You want the liquid to barely cover the vegtables in the jars. It never lasts more than a couple months in our house, but is still good at the end of that time. Dunno what the actual shelf life is. Sometimes if it's not spicy enough, we add a few drops of tabasco or Frank's to each jar.

Enjoy!

Labels: Cooking isn't complicated, reruns

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Weddings and Funerals

It's rerun time! I discovered recently that I still have access to all the posts on my old blog. I will be reposting some of the better ones from time to time.

This was orginally posted in January of 2005.

Weddings and Funerals

"Hey, it's Uncle Fred! I haven't seen you since Doug and Sarah got married - what was that, 3 years ago now?"
"Four, almost. What have you been up to?"

Sound like a familiar conversation?
When I was younger, it often seemed that the only time I saw far-flung uncles and cousins was for weddings and funerals. Now that I'm getting older and have a family of my own, it's starting to seem that I only see far-flung brothers and nephews at weddings and funerals. So it comes as no real surprise that weddings and funerals, aside from their main purpose, also serve as touch-points for friends and relatives.

But really, how separate is that from the main purpose? Are we honestly that interested in what Uncle Fred's been doing for three years? If we were, it wouldn't have been three years since we talked to him. So are we talking to Uncle Fred because it's expected and "oh no, here comes Aunt Ginny with her stories about the damn cat again", or something like that? No, becuase it always seems that, no matter how small the gathering, it's always possible to avoid the Aunt Ginnys and catch up with the Uncle Freds. And also, it's easier to tolerate Aunt Ginny than it is when she phones on a random Tuesday.

I think that it's because we recognize that weddings and funerals are turning points. Unconsciously at least, we acknowledge that this is a momentous event and that things will not be the same. So we touch and reaffirm that all is well with our social world. We seek to confirm that, despite this change, things will go on as they were. It's a very important tribal function - both for us and even moreso for the immediately affected.

The married couple needs the confirmation that the tribe is around them, and the bereaved need the awareness that the tribe survives despite the loss of a member. From pop psychology all the way up to the serious stuff it is widely acknowledged that facing something alone makes it substantially more stressful.

So catch up with your Uncle Fred and listen patiently to Aunt Ginny. It's an important social function, and when you make vague plans to keep in touch remember that the important part isn't really the keeping in touch, it's your presence in the tribe that counts. If you ran through the room dressed in furs and beat your chest it would still serve. People will just shake their heads and say "Oh, that would be your cousin James. He's a little weird, but you know what they say: you can't pick your family."

James

Labels: I think too much, reruns