Why bad things happen to pretty people
(You asked for an update, MacKenzie, and oh do I aim to please. ;) )
In one of the intro courses I'm being forced to take because of narrow-minded university requirements, we're reading Tolkien. I hadn't until this semester; "Lord" has been sitting on my shelf since the second movie, but it's hefty and daunting, and I hadn't dared to begin. Now I'm in the third book, and I love it, and I love Tolkien, so I just had to go back to the movies. Wednesday Jason graciously allowed me to sit in on "Return," and midway through I had an epiphany. What follows is heavily philosophical and very complex, so I warn you--if you've not got your thinking cap on, if the chin strap is even the least bit loose, you might want to take a break, relax with some Malher and a merlot with a nice bouquet, and then come back to my brilliant supposition with a clear mind that's ready to absorb my insights. Or, if you're ready now, that's cool too.
My epiphany came during the battle at Minas Tirith. It occurred to me that I only wanted to see naked people from one side of the battle, and that I was compelled to mock those on the other side, with their giant troll nipples and chunky, vomit-like orc physiques. My little wheels spun quickly; I realized the err of dismissing these creatures as simply being evil. I leaned over and excitedly whispered my oracle to Jason: "Jason! They're mad because the elves are PRETTIER than they are!"
Miraculously, with this inherent truth unveiled I was able to regard the whole of human history from a radical new perspective. Osama doesn't hate Americans because we're Christian and wealthy; he's upset because he can't get dates, and Brad has no trouble. Kim Jong-Il wouldn't be compelled to develop nuclear weapons if he looked less like a comic book monster and more like John Stamos. Hitler was driven not by madness, but by the horror of his lopsidedness when he gazed at his naked, one-testicled form in the mirror each morning. The English, who've the unique distinction of having persecuted most nationalities in the world, have done so because they're often gaunt and foul-teethed, and folks like the Scottish, the Irish, the Bostonians are just better looking. It's all so clear, and so logical!
Of course, now that, in my unfathomable intelligence and thoughtfulness, I've revealed this great truth, my fellow men will have to take the necessary steps to ensure peace in future generations. Funds will have to be redirected from silly efforts like the Peace Corps into programs promoting advances in plastic surgery, and doctors of that noble profession will need to begin work on the those who terrorize the world. Someone is going to have to give Zarqauwi some hair-styling tips, get the English better dental plans and give Jong-Il a mask. We'll have to emphasis style more in schools, and perhaps frivolities like science and math less. Beautiful gay men will have to put their stuff back on the market (Rock Hudsons of the world, unite!), and some of us, maybe myself included, will have to take their stuff off. But, my friends, it'll be worth it in the end, when peace reigns on this great Earth once more, when jealousy is replaced by constant lust, when the distinctions of the famous will have to be based on actual talent and not just on photogenicability, because we'll ALL have abs like Britney. And oh, what a world that'll be.
In one of the intro courses I'm being forced to take because of narrow-minded university requirements, we're reading Tolkien. I hadn't until this semester; "Lord" has been sitting on my shelf since the second movie, but it's hefty and daunting, and I hadn't dared to begin. Now I'm in the third book, and I love it, and I love Tolkien, so I just had to go back to the movies. Wednesday Jason graciously allowed me to sit in on "Return," and midway through I had an epiphany. What follows is heavily philosophical and very complex, so I warn you--if you've not got your thinking cap on, if the chin strap is even the least bit loose, you might want to take a break, relax with some Malher and a merlot with a nice bouquet, and then come back to my brilliant supposition with a clear mind that's ready to absorb my insights. Or, if you're ready now, that's cool too.
My epiphany came during the battle at Minas Tirith. It occurred to me that I only wanted to see naked people from one side of the battle, and that I was compelled to mock those on the other side, with their giant troll nipples and chunky, vomit-like orc physiques. My little wheels spun quickly; I realized the err of dismissing these creatures as simply being evil. I leaned over and excitedly whispered my oracle to Jason: "Jason! They're mad because the elves are PRETTIER than they are!"
Miraculously, with this inherent truth unveiled I was able to regard the whole of human history from a radical new perspective. Osama doesn't hate Americans because we're Christian and wealthy; he's upset because he can't get dates, and Brad has no trouble. Kim Jong-Il wouldn't be compelled to develop nuclear weapons if he looked less like a comic book monster and more like John Stamos. Hitler was driven not by madness, but by the horror of his lopsidedness when he gazed at his naked, one-testicled form in the mirror each morning. The English, who've the unique distinction of having persecuted most nationalities in the world, have done so because they're often gaunt and foul-teethed, and folks like the Scottish, the Irish, the Bostonians are just better looking. It's all so clear, and so logical!
Of course, now that, in my unfathomable intelligence and thoughtfulness, I've revealed this great truth, my fellow men will have to take the necessary steps to ensure peace in future generations. Funds will have to be redirected from silly efforts like the Peace Corps into programs promoting advances in plastic surgery, and doctors of that noble profession will need to begin work on the those who terrorize the world. Someone is going to have to give Zarqauwi some hair-styling tips, get the English better dental plans and give Jong-Il a mask. We'll have to emphasis style more in schools, and perhaps frivolities like science and math less. Beautiful gay men will have to put their stuff back on the market (Rock Hudsons of the world, unite!), and some of us, maybe myself included, will have to take their stuff off. But, my friends, it'll be worth it in the end, when peace reigns on this great Earth once more, when jealousy is replaced by constant lust, when the distinctions of the famous will have to be based on actual talent and not just on photogenicability, because we'll ALL have abs like Britney. And oh, what a world that'll be.