In the wake of Charlottesville, many are comparing the marchers (not the counter-protesters) with the Nazi. And sure, they had the swastikas and had the slogan of the National Socialist German Workers' Party.
I take great offence to this. This just shows how ignorant people are about history; the comparison between the marchers and the Nazi party is grossly incorrect at best, and it should be offensive to many. And I don't say this in the sense that the Nazi party supported the leftist idealism of "anti-big-business, anti-bourgeois, anti-capitalist" political atmosphere. That was later downplayed to gain the support of the big industries. I also don't say this in the sense of racial extermination and segregation based on religions, race, and sexual preferences.
I say this on the basis that the Nazi Party is about a thousand times better than the marchers.
It's crucial to understand just why the party rose to power in the first place, which history classes rarely teach. Statistically, Germany was at its worst in its entire history during the Weimar Republic. The suicide rate in 1923 was at a whopping 39 per hundred thousand (for comparison, Japan at its highest was about 24, and that became international news. US, France, and the UK in 1923 was about 11 per hundred thousand). There is a high correlation between economy and suicide rates.
So what about the economy? Well, hyper-inflation is an understatement. In Nov 1918, a loaf of bread was 1 mark. Five years later? 163 marks. A year after that? An unbelievable 1,500,000 marks. People brought wheelbarrows filled with bundles of bills to buy a loaf of bread. Two months later (Nov 1923)? 200,000,000,000 marks.
That's right. TWO HUNDRED BILLION MARKS FOR A LOAF OF BREAD.
This was in part because Germany decided to borrow the money to finance WWI, so that's the Germans' fault. But that by itself wouldn't have caused this travesty. After WWI, the Allies demanded reparations. It demanded 132 billion marks (USD$33 billion).
The Germans, already beaten, were now forced to pay. Families had lost their breadwinners, and John Maynard Keynes correctly predicted the Treaty of Versailles would be a disaster that would economically destroy Germany. Not only was this a humiliation, it also led to problems, namely starvation (a poll conducted in 1923 in one area of Germany reported 100 towns with 95% malnutrition and 41% with TB).
Congratulations. You have kicked Germany. It's basically lost all its senses, and is cornered. Guess what wounded animals do when cornered? It bites back.
Now, these are all just numbers for now, but imagine this: you have two children, aged ten and eight. Your brother went to fight in the war and never came back. Your nation has lost the war. Money has lost its meaning and is now a piece of paper, milk is a luxury beyond gold, a loaf of bread is two hundred billion marks, your chief bread-winner killed him/herself. Your children are crying because they are so hungry. You haven't eaten in days, and you've lost your job.
And then comes this man out of nowhere, who promises to restore Germany, not just financially, but also give you your job back and put food on the table (if I recall correctly, this was one of the chief reasons many voted for Trump). He comes and gives your kids toys and candy, and you see the kids smile for the first time in months. And he actually keeps his promises. Under his regime new companies are born. Streets are paved. Autobahn is made. Even the US benefited from Hitler's scientific policies: people like von Braun, who later went on to develop Saturn V, originally began their projects under the Nazi party's war efforts.
Guess who you're going to vote for?
When the Nazi party began its ascent, it didn't ascend on people's lack of interest, like it did with this year's French election and last year's American. Voter turn-out rate in 1932 was 84%. People voted for Hitler in droves (in 1932, he received 1/3 of the votes, with about 4 million votes ahead).
There is no doubt that Hitler committed atrocities. He ordered mass genocide, forcefully silenced those who spoke out against him, actively oppressed anyone who didn't fit his idealism of purity. But one must also admit that under his regime came the very foundation of rocket science, modern weaponry, Volkswagen and the foundation of the German economy we see today, not to mention the Autobahn.
The marchers from Friday and Saturday weren't these people who, through no fault of their own, had to watch as their children suffered and starved. Many of them had the financial ability to not go to work on Friday, and actually come out and march. They are not starved. The guy who decided to run over Heather Heyer had a car. They are not desperate, cornered, injured people who have lost everything. I certainly don't see Trump creating jobs and I certainly don't see him giving Americans pride and hope.
So what I want to say is this: stop using the Nazi as some demonic entity. The situation is very different, and by comparing the marchers to the Nazis, you are being rude to those engineers who believed that they were doing their country a service when they developed the Messerschmitt aircrafts. You are being rude to those who cast their votes, not because they hated Jews (I'm sure some of them did, and I am in no way absolving them) but because they were desperate to feed their children. Worst of all, you are being rude to those who died fighting against the Nazis. Do you really mean to degrade those who gave their lives to protect freedom by saying that they had to go to the extent of giving up their lives to fight a bunch of tiki-torch-wielding punks who are so ignorant that they chant "blood and soil" when they themselves are, by heritage, immigrants?
The Nazis should be recorded in history as those who committed mass genocide. But one should also be aware of just why the Germans voted for them, and respect those who gave their lives fighting for freedom by respecting the Nazis as a formidable power. You should respect those Americans who, a few generations before, had been Germans and may have had to fight against their blood relations. And comparing these half-assed ignorami to those Americans' opponents is doing everyone a disservice.
James and I are playing a game, since he's going to be away until Sunday. I text him stanzas of a poem, and he ID's it with the title and the poet's name.
So today we started off with one of my favourites, Porphyria's Lover by Robert Browning. This is a fairly classical poem from the early Victorian era, and for a Victorian it's... very risque, involving strangulation, naked shoulders, and murder.
Anyway, he didn't see the romanticism right off the bat, so I explained the eroticism behind the poem, and that got me to thinking about power relationships, especially in the context of dominant and submissive. Porphyria's Lover is an interesting study, if you read it in the context of a very BDSM-esque love story that puts 50 Shades to shame. Of course, there's the standard, boring analysis of "the Lover is batcrap psychopath crazy", but for some reason, recalling Browning's love story with Elizabeth, that just doesn't seem to fit in my head.
Let's start off with the general plot. The narrator, or the Lover, is sitting in his cottage alone in the cold during a stormy night, when Porphyria sweeps in, removes her gloves, and starts a fire. She makes him hug her around the waist, and the Lover perceives that the woman adores him, but for some reason she cannot be with him. So, in a stroke of inspiration, he strangles her with her own hair, then arranges her corpse to sit next to him... and that's how he spends the night.
The reason why Porphyria cannot be with the Lover is up to speculation, but a common one is that she is promised to someone else. Regardless, it's rather clear that getting married is not an option for these two. I have a feeling that the party Porphyria leaves to come to the Lover is, in fact, her engagement party, and therefore the Lover sat, desolate, with "heart fit to break".
The Dominant and the Submissive
The relationship between Porphyria and her lover is a classic dominant/submissive relationship, where at a glance it is clear that the lover is the dominant one. He is the one calling the shots, he is the one who kills Porphyria, not the other way around. She submits to him, rather willingly (from his point of view, anyway), putting his arms around her waist, and she doesn't appear to flail or struggle when he kills her. She's the one who comes to the cottage, not the other way around.
But is it really? This isn't called My Lover, Porphyria. The entire title originally started out as Porphyria, indicating (perhaps because it's written from the lover's point of view) that the poem revolves around the woman. She is the one who decides to come. She is the one who bares the shoulders. In that sense, it is the submissive who is allowing the dominant to dominate.
So who holds the reins here?
Is It Love?
A lot of people find the Lover a psychopath, and that is what a vanilla relationship person would probably perceive. For someone who has a streak of something else, though, this isn't as messed up as it sounds.
Consider the sadism/masochism. If your partner is a masochist and you oblige to indulge, then the underlying psychological working is "I love you, so I shall give you pain"; if the partner is a sadist, then it is "I love you, so I will suffer the pain you give me".
Porphyria left a party ("Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain/A sudden thought of one so pale/For love of her, and all in vain:/So, she was come through wind and rain") to see the Lover. Maybe even an engagement party. Things are fairly desperate, and the fact that she allowed the Lover to grab her hair, wind it around her neck three times, and choke her (she didn't flail, even if she couldn't scream because her airway was closed off) can be interpreted as Porphyria's silent acceptance, if not plea, to rather die by her lover's hands than be married off to some random man that she does not love.
So today we started off with one of my favourites, Porphyria's Lover by Robert Browning. This is a fairly classical poem from the early Victorian era, and for a Victorian it's... very risque, involving strangulation, naked shoulders, and murder.
Anyway, he didn't see the romanticism right off the bat, so I explained the eroticism behind the poem, and that got me to thinking about power relationships, especially in the context of dominant and submissive. Porphyria's Lover is an interesting study, if you read it in the context of a very BDSM-esque love story that puts 50 Shades to shame. Of course, there's the standard, boring analysis of "the Lover is batcrap psychopath crazy", but for some reason, recalling Browning's love story with Elizabeth, that just doesn't seem to fit in my head.
Let's start off with the general plot. The narrator, or the Lover, is sitting in his cottage alone in the cold during a stormy night, when Porphyria sweeps in, removes her gloves, and starts a fire. She makes him hug her around the waist, and the Lover perceives that the woman adores him, but for some reason she cannot be with him. So, in a stroke of inspiration, he strangles her with her own hair, then arranges her corpse to sit next to him... and that's how he spends the night.
The reason why Porphyria cannot be with the Lover is up to speculation, but a common one is that she is promised to someone else. Regardless, it's rather clear that getting married is not an option for these two. I have a feeling that the party Porphyria leaves to come to the Lover is, in fact, her engagement party, and therefore the Lover sat, desolate, with "heart fit to break".
The Dominant and the Submissive
The relationship between Porphyria and her lover is a classic dominant/submissive relationship, where at a glance it is clear that the lover is the dominant one. He is the one calling the shots, he is the one who kills Porphyria, not the other way around. She submits to him, rather willingly (from his point of view, anyway), putting his arms around her waist, and she doesn't appear to flail or struggle when he kills her. She's the one who comes to the cottage, not the other way around.
But is it really? This isn't called My Lover, Porphyria. The entire title originally started out as Porphyria, indicating (perhaps because it's written from the lover's point of view) that the poem revolves around the woman. She is the one who decides to come. She is the one who bares the shoulders. In that sense, it is the submissive who is allowing the dominant to dominate.
So who holds the reins here?
Is It Love?
A lot of people find the Lover a psychopath, and that is what a vanilla relationship person would probably perceive. For someone who has a streak of something else, though, this isn't as messed up as it sounds.
Consider the sadism/masochism. If your partner is a masochist and you oblige to indulge, then the underlying psychological working is "I love you, so I shall give you pain"; if the partner is a sadist, then it is "I love you, so I will suffer the pain you give me".
Porphyria left a party ("Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain/A sudden thought of one so pale/For love of her, and all in vain:/So, she was come through wind and rain") to see the Lover. Maybe even an engagement party. Things are fairly desperate, and the fact that she allowed the Lover to grab her hair, wind it around her neck three times, and choke her (she didn't flail, even if she couldn't scream because her airway was closed off) can be interpreted as Porphyria's silent acceptance, if not plea, to rather die by her lover's hands than be married off to some random man that she does not love.
The Lover, however, is well aware that death and love don't usually go hand in hand, and therefore must justify his killing by stating twice that she felt no pain. Interesting.
The thing about these relationships is that it is very hard to draw the line between agape and eros. Is it altruistic love that motivates the Lover, or is it more carnal? I think it's a mix, like every romantic relationship out there; after all, if it was just 100% agape, one should theoretically be able to let someone go with a blessing if that person insists that that is what they want, but how many of us can do that?
Death as the Act of Possession
I think this is what confounds a lot of analysis on this poem that makes is rather blah and mundane. It is a rather weird concept, but I came across a line before where the male protagonist openly states that he'd rather kill his lover than let anyone else take her.
"So you'd forever be mine", he said.
Killing is, in a way, a claim of ownership. "Taking life" is one way to put it, subtly appending a claim of ownership on that person's life. "He took her life" is the phrase here, but when one thinks about it, it can also mean that he is now in possession of her life.
Which is probably the appeal of the classic theme of Death and the Maiden; Death claims the ownership of the very substance of the Maiden, the symbol of purity and beauty, so that no man can claim it. It is fatalistic, almost Gothic, and in my opinion, very Victorian.
In that streak, My Last Duchess is also an interesting read; although the Duchess is often attributed to Lucrezia de'Medici, she died of illness, not murder. Now, her sister, Isabella, was murdered for being in a relationship with another man, and her husband, Paolo Orsini, by strangulation. Oddly enough, according to one source, there was a fine dagger stuck to the hilt into her entrance to womanhood.
I'd totally buy that the Duchess was Isabella.
The thing about these relationships is that it is very hard to draw the line between agape and eros. Is it altruistic love that motivates the Lover, or is it more carnal? I think it's a mix, like every romantic relationship out there; after all, if it was just 100% agape, one should theoretically be able to let someone go with a blessing if that person insists that that is what they want, but how many of us can do that?
Death as the Act of Possession
I think this is what confounds a lot of analysis on this poem that makes is rather blah and mundane. It is a rather weird concept, but I came across a line before where the male protagonist openly states that he'd rather kill his lover than let anyone else take her.
"So you'd forever be mine", he said.
Killing is, in a way, a claim of ownership. "Taking life" is one way to put it, subtly appending a claim of ownership on that person's life. "He took her life" is the phrase here, but when one thinks about it, it can also mean that he is now in possession of her life.
Which is probably the appeal of the classic theme of Death and the Maiden; Death claims the ownership of the very substance of the Maiden, the symbol of purity and beauty, so that no man can claim it. It is fatalistic, almost Gothic, and in my opinion, very Victorian.
In that streak, My Last Duchess is also an interesting read; although the Duchess is often attributed to Lucrezia de'Medici, she died of illness, not murder. Now, her sister, Isabella, was murdered for being in a relationship with another man, and her husband, Paolo Orsini, by strangulation. Oddly enough, according to one source, there was a fine dagger stuck to the hilt into her entrance to womanhood.
I'd totally buy that the Duchess was Isabella.
Category:
History,
Relationships,
Robert Browning
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My best friend Claire is a foodie. She basically eats anything set before her (some dietary restrictions are there, but they are for health issues, not preference). She is a delight to go out with, and she is a delight to cook for.
My boyfriend James is a picky eater. His diet mainly consists of pizza, hamburgers, and steaks. It almost feels as if vegetables had personally hurt him in childhood and now he is staunchly putting up a wall against it. He does try the stuff I make, but his preference is clearly skewed to fat and proteins.
I am a foodie.
This is going to get tricky.
Foodie vs picky eater war isn't something that is particular to me, apparently. A quick google search has yielded a lot of chronicling of these wars, with barrages and sallies from both sides. Since I'm staunchly in the foodie camp, my views are a bit lopsided. As someone who loves to cook, this lopsidedness gets even worse.
The most common argument for the picky eaters is that one should have the freedom to choose whatever they eat. I see two problems with this argument, thusly:
1. Let's say you created this elaborate dish... and then the person you cooked for decided to not eat it. Sure, it might be the eater's prerogative, but there is NO WAY the cook will feel good about it.
The problem with this is that the cook will either have to tailor the menu for the picky eater, thus severely restricting what the foodie might want to eat, or cook extra dishes, or eat heartily while the picky eater can't. Which, if you care about the picky eater, just makes you feel really guilty.
2. You go to a restaurant with the picky eater, and the picky eater can't eat anything.
The problem with this is that you get to enjoy food... and the picky eater is reduced to bread, butter, and water, which sounds like a rich version of prison food in revolutionary France. This makes you feel guilty, which can make you lose appetite. The argument I see for this is "well, go to restaurants by yourself", but then that's like half the date opportunities gone right there.
Meals are occasions to be shared, so what I want to say is: I know it's hard to try new stuff, but please make an effort (which, currently, James is doing well, so I'm hopeful) to at least try them. We aren't just eating to fill up; we're eating to make memories, share time together, and enjoy life. And when we end up eating and you aren't, we do feel guilty, and that greatly dampens our joy. Breaking bread together has always been a social event, a sharing moment, and when you can't do that with someone you love, whether it be friend, family, or lover, then it greatly reduces the opportunities to create memories.
And sex doesn't cut it. You don't have sex everyday (or at least, most people don't). You do, however, have to eat everyday. I understand that there are some dishes one will inevitably not prefer (for example, I generally do not like fried foods, my father doesn't particularly like chicken, and I don't really like soy sauce. Despite my nationality, yes), but there's a difference between not eating it at all, and eating a little.
All we ask for is the latter... and to keep an open mind.
My boyfriend James is a picky eater. His diet mainly consists of pizza, hamburgers, and steaks. It almost feels as if vegetables had personally hurt him in childhood and now he is staunchly putting up a wall against it. He does try the stuff I make, but his preference is clearly skewed to fat and proteins.
I am a foodie.
This is going to get tricky.
Foodie vs picky eater war isn't something that is particular to me, apparently. A quick google search has yielded a lot of chronicling of these wars, with barrages and sallies from both sides. Since I'm staunchly in the foodie camp, my views are a bit lopsided. As someone who loves to cook, this lopsidedness gets even worse.
The most common argument for the picky eaters is that one should have the freedom to choose whatever they eat. I see two problems with this argument, thusly:
1. Let's say you created this elaborate dish... and then the person you cooked for decided to not eat it. Sure, it might be the eater's prerogative, but there is NO WAY the cook will feel good about it.
The problem with this is that the cook will either have to tailor the menu for the picky eater, thus severely restricting what the foodie might want to eat, or cook extra dishes, or eat heartily while the picky eater can't. Which, if you care about the picky eater, just makes you feel really guilty.
2. You go to a restaurant with the picky eater, and the picky eater can't eat anything.
The problem with this is that you get to enjoy food... and the picky eater is reduced to bread, butter, and water, which sounds like a rich version of prison food in revolutionary France. This makes you feel guilty, which can make you lose appetite. The argument I see for this is "well, go to restaurants by yourself", but then that's like half the date opportunities gone right there.
Meals are occasions to be shared, so what I want to say is: I know it's hard to try new stuff, but please make an effort (which, currently, James is doing well, so I'm hopeful) to at least try them. We aren't just eating to fill up; we're eating to make memories, share time together, and enjoy life. And when we end up eating and you aren't, we do feel guilty, and that greatly dampens our joy. Breaking bread together has always been a social event, a sharing moment, and when you can't do that with someone you love, whether it be friend, family, or lover, then it greatly reduces the opportunities to create memories.
And sex doesn't cut it. You don't have sex everyday (or at least, most people don't). You do, however, have to eat everyday. I understand that there are some dishes one will inevitably not prefer (for example, I generally do not like fried foods, my father doesn't particularly like chicken, and I don't really like soy sauce. Despite my nationality, yes), but there's a difference between not eating it at all, and eating a little.
All we ask for is the latter... and to keep an open mind.
Category:
food
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comments