Not to get all philosophical on you Blog, but if the pen is mightier than the sword, why do actions speak louder than words? And even after that, a picture of the whole ordeal is worth a thousand of them.
And this is why I need to take up photography and turn you into a wedding blog, Blog.
Oh come on. I'm kidding, I'm kidding! You and I both know that I'd much rather get drunk and ramble incessantly with you rather than capture the ridiculous dedication of eternal love with unfocused backgrounds and agreeable outdoor lighting.
What's that? I've become cynical? Blog. It's not like you to be so vocal about what I share with you. What gives?
Oh I see. I created you and now you've become an entity that has developed an opinion and feelings that are reflective of my own yet independently formed. How like Frankenstein. Well, at least you have an aesthetic color palette and aren't made of a cadaver...
Now that we have that inevitable exchange behind us... where was I?
Oh yes. Philosophical ponderings. Did you know that I don't even really know what the word philosophical means? Oh the honesty I have with you, Blog. It is second to none.
You didn't know either? Well, that's not surprising. I mean, you are an extension of myself. We aren't that different, you and I.
Anyway, I never took any philosophy courses and therefore have never given the subject much formal thought until now. Upon gazing at the word, I've had the revelation that it probably means something like "for the love of Sophocles" or "Gee, I sure do dig everything Sophocles had to say".
Too bad I don't remember what Sophocles had to say. I do know, however, that he taught Plato, who taught Alexander the Great. Why do I know that? Acronyms, Blog. If there is doubt whence studying history; acronyms. "Spa" wasn't just my business idea for my 11th grade Agribusiness class. (And yes, if you gaze upon the word agribusiness for long enough, I'm sure you'll figure out what it means)
Wow. I am tangent city tonight. Now I feel like gotten too far off track to write about the impact that the type of music I listened to as a teenager has had on my current state of affairs.
Fuck it. I'm going there anyway.
I had the revelation the other day that the type of music I listened to during my coming-of-age years has formed my thoughts and feelings on my approach to the idea of romantic love. Or so I initially thought.
That's it. I'm creating some case studies, yo.
Case Study: Kerin the Bostonian
Though Kerin is one of my very best friends and we share many things in common, one thing that differentiates us (besides our seemingly opposite upbringings) is the music we listen to. Kerin is a hip hop gal. She's from the mean streets of Boston. She's agile in the arena of pop culture and appreciates the mainstream. This means she listened to the Backstreet Boys when she was a teenager. This means she lived, breathed, and probably somehow ate lyrics like "You can save me from the man that I've become" and "No matter the distance,
I want you to know, that deep down inside of me... You are my fire, the one desire..."
As a result, Kerin has a romantic sense about her. She is confident in the ideas of fate and destiny. Instances and experiences that some may find sappy, she sees as sentimental and revealing to the existence of true love and the idea that it is meant to be. Yeah, I know this makes Kerin sound like a hopeless romantic. But on the contrary she's quite the opposite. She's an incredibly hopeful romantic; and we have Howie Dorough to thank for that.
Case Study: Little Samantha on the Prairie
Like I mentioned in the previous case study that I have created for illustrative purposes, even though Kerin and I have many things in common, we differ in our upbringings and tastes in music. While she was hip hopping on the mean streets of Boston, Little Samantha was naively exploring what the flower children of the 60's had to offer the generation that had given birth to her. In other words, I was a hipster before being a hipster was a thing.
For the record, being a hipster before being a hipster was a thing cancels out the idea of hipsterdom (which is being into something before it becomes mainstream). Therefore, I was never really a hipster to begin with.
Or was I?
I digress. As a result of this naive exploration, I found myself engrossed in Joni Mitchell. I lived, breathed, and probably fueled my car with lyrics like "You leave 'em laughing when you go, and if you care don't let them know" and "Everything comes and goes. Pleasure moves on too early and trouble leaves too slow."
Of course I'd be into someone who is poetically rooted in realism. And there was no context for these ideas for a timid 15 year old in Steele County, North Dakota. I was a lost cause from the start. The cynicism didn't start with my earlier comment about wedding photography, Blog. It started with Blue in 1999.
As a result, I am jaded in the eyes of romance.
Just when I thought I had it all figured out, another friend of mine, Trisha, mentioned in response to this whole idea of adolescent music habits contributing to adult relationship trends that the music didn't choose me. I chose the music. And she is right. I had my radio tuned to Y-94 out of Fargo in those days. I was totally familiar with I Want it That Way and yet I chose to flip my Court and Spark cassette multiple times a night just like Kerin chose to make it a priority to liken the Backstreet Boys to that of an infallible deity. The music didn't choose us, we chose the music. Our hormones just made us think we weren't in a place to take responsibility for our actions.
Damn you puberty!
And here's where I'm going to bring this ramble back, Blog. I bet you didn't see it coming, but it's going to happen.
Though Joni's words speak volumes to me, I am the one who has acted upon pursuing them for inspiration. Just like Kerin opted to follow those boys from the back streets in a response to the emotions that overtake any teenager when they finally realize that, hey! Sexual attraction is a thing!
The score is settled... for now.
Also, I've finally wikipedia-ed all the Greek philosopher stuff I was going on about earlier. Turns out, with my logic, philosophical might as very well mean "I'm a huge fan of Antigone". Acronyms don't work quite as well when Socrates and Sophacles start with the same letter...
Blog, after they legalize gay marriage, I hope they legalize blog marriage. I fear you're the only one who truly gets me to a point where I could ridiculously dedicate my love to you in front of a focused camera in agreeable outdoor lighting.