Today's "would you rather question" is brought to you by teenage hormones and poorly written fiction - popular culture at its finest!
Would you rather be a brainless zombie, an alluring vampire or an amnesiac werewolf?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Would you rather date Edward Scissorhands or Willy Wonka?
I would like to credit the lovely Janna Kostelyk for creating this brilliant question:
Would you rather date Edward Scissorhands or Willy Wonka? (Keep in mind that dating implies a certain amount of physical intimacy!)
Robin:
First, a note to our readers:
In light of our present academic workloads, Cira and I have both committed to keeping our responses brief. You can expect less research and more personal bias. Our hope is to keep the same lighthearted tone that you enjoy. If you hope to learn something rational and/or substantial, we are more than happy to direct you to a number of great local libraries and educational facilities. Now to the question at hand...
Christmas is coming ever so quickly, so I'll answer with an imaginative case study:
December 17th, 2010:
I'm scrambling to get ready for my boyfriend's work Christmas Party. He's already here to pick me up, chatting incessantly about holiday product lines, ignorant of my panic. My hair won't do a thing and after a frustrating 45 minutes I decide to put it up into a plain bun and wear fancy earrings instead. My jewelry box is full of big, bright jewelry pieces from Willy. Fittingly, they all look something like candy. Sadly, none of them are delicate enough for my favourite frilly black dress, so I pick out my usual diamond studs. It's already 5:37pm. We are going to be late. I go to put on my black dress, but it seems much tighter than last year. I guess the endless supply of sweets has gotten to me. I pull and tug on the zipper, squishing various body parts as much as possible and working up a sweat to get it done up. I feel like a sausage in it's casing. There's no time to change. I'll just have to suck it in and go easy on the buffet. Emerging from my room, I give Willy a quick kiss. As always, he looks great. Perfect skin and hair. Well-tailored clothes.
"How do I look?" I ask. More than ready to receive a compliment after such a long, stressful beautification process.
"It's a bit depressing don't you think? No colour at all. Don't you have something that looks a bit tastier?" Willy says frowning. I give the "Robin Glare." I don't know why I bother even trying. Like most men, Willy's got a one track mind. All candy, all the time. I guess I can't blame him for it. If anything, I should be focusing on personal aesthetics as a form of Oompa-Loompa repellent. Now that I think of it...I remember a certain half-pint co-worker trying out some of Willy's experimental gum so that I would "squeeze the juice out of him..." *Shudder*
December 17, 2010:
It's 5:30pm and I'm getting ready for a romantic dinner with my boyfriend. He's a self-employed landscape artist and hairdresser. I take one last look in the mirror. My hair is perfect (thanks to one of Edward's great cuts), my makeup looks great, and my favourite dress is hitting my curves in all the right places. I head over to his place.
He lives in a fantastic heritage home left to him by his late father. It's romantic and creepy - my favourite combination. To my great surprise, Edward's carved an ice sculpture nativity scene in the front yard, coating the yard with snow. White lights on perfectly pruned Christmas trees in the yard glow softly through the white blanket. As I go inside, I find a feast of pita bread with tzatziki, lemon roasted potatoes and perfectly chopped Greek salad. Ed walks into the room with souvlaki laden fingers, fresh off the BBQ. Dang, I love a man in leather.
We sit down to a great meal, pondering existential questions as we usually do. What does it mean to be a created being? What does our form tell us about the Creator in whose image we are made?
Later, and carefully, we move to canoodling by the fire, roasting marshmallows on Edward's scissorhands. The end of a perfect winter night.
Would you rather date Edward Scissorhands or Willy Wonka? (Keep in mind that dating implies a certain amount of physical intimacy!)
Robin:
First, a note to our readers:
In light of our present academic workloads, Cira and I have both committed to keeping our responses brief. You can expect less research and more personal bias. Our hope is to keep the same lighthearted tone that you enjoy. If you hope to learn something rational and/or substantial, we are more than happy to direct you to a number of great local libraries and educational facilities. Now to the question at hand...
Christmas is coming ever so quickly, so I'll answer with an imaginative case study:
December 17th, 2010:
I'm scrambling to get ready for my boyfriend's work Christmas Party. He's already here to pick me up, chatting incessantly about holiday product lines, ignorant of my panic. My hair won't do a thing and after a frustrating 45 minutes I decide to put it up into a plain bun and wear fancy earrings instead. My jewelry box is full of big, bright jewelry pieces from Willy. Fittingly, they all look something like candy. Sadly, none of them are delicate enough for my favourite frilly black dress, so I pick out my usual diamond studs. It's already 5:37pm. We are going to be late. I go to put on my black dress, but it seems much tighter than last year. I guess the endless supply of sweets has gotten to me. I pull and tug on the zipper, squishing various body parts as much as possible and working up a sweat to get it done up. I feel like a sausage in it's casing. There's no time to change. I'll just have to suck it in and go easy on the buffet. Emerging from my room, I give Willy a quick kiss. As always, he looks great. Perfect skin and hair. Well-tailored clothes.
"How do I look?" I ask. More than ready to receive a compliment after such a long, stressful beautification process.
"It's a bit depressing don't you think? No colour at all. Don't you have something that looks a bit tastier?" Willy says frowning. I give the "Robin Glare." I don't know why I bother even trying. Like most men, Willy's got a one track mind. All candy, all the time. I guess I can't blame him for it. If anything, I should be focusing on personal aesthetics as a form of Oompa-Loompa repellent. Now that I think of it...I remember a certain half-pint co-worker trying out some of Willy's experimental gum so that I would "squeeze the juice out of him..." *Shudder*
December 17, 2010:
It's 5:30pm and I'm getting ready for a romantic dinner with my boyfriend. He's a self-employed landscape artist and hairdresser. I take one last look in the mirror. My hair is perfect (thanks to one of Edward's great cuts), my makeup looks great, and my favourite dress is hitting my curves in all the right places. I head over to his place.
He lives in a fantastic heritage home left to him by his late father. It's romantic and creepy - my favourite combination. To my great surprise, Edward's carved an ice sculpture nativity scene in the front yard, coating the yard with snow. White lights on perfectly pruned Christmas trees in the yard glow softly through the white blanket. As I go inside, I find a feast of pita bread with tzatziki, lemon roasted potatoes and perfectly chopped Greek salad. Ed walks into the room with souvlaki laden fingers, fresh off the BBQ. Dang, I love a man in leather.
We sit down to a great meal, pondering existential questions as we usually do. What does it mean to be a created being? What does our form tell us about the Creator in whose image we are made?
Later, and carefully, we move to canoodling by the fire, roasting marshmallows on Edward's scissorhands. The end of a perfect winter night.
Cira:
Robin, while your ‘imaginative case studies’ had me rolling in a fit of uproarious laughter, I feel it my duty to highlight some of your oversights:
I don’t deny that a relationship with Monsieur Wonka would inevitably catalyze significant weight gain. However, I would be inclined to consider dating the world’s best chocolatier at the expense of putting on a few extra pounds. After securing his upmost admiration, I would use my powers of persuasion to convince dear William to invent some healthy alternatives to sugar-laden treats, such as dark chocolate, rich in antioxidants, or candy made from real fruit with no added sugar. I’m sure Wonka could figure out a way to make something healthy taste absolutely scrumdidilyumptious. The man’s a genius after all!
While some may question his character and ethics, one need only to look into Wonka’s past to realize he is a man of great courage and independence. One must take into account that life for young William was not all fuzzy peaches and chocolate-covered roses. As a boy, Will left the oppressive home of his dentist father and overbearing mother, and struck out all on his own in order to build his candy empire. It’s not too often that you meet a man of such immense imagination and business savvy. While his head often appears to be in the clouds, William knows a thing or two about marketing strategies and business administration. He’s a well-rounded catch, to be sure!
Okay, turning to Edward Scissorhands…
I’m not going to deny that on a superficial level, Ed is the more appealing choice between the two. He is irresistibly dark, sexy and elusive, and yet, while he appears to be the ultimate badass, underneath his tough, leather shell is a heart full of warmth and kindness.
In addition to his enticing looks and alluring character, as you’ve rightly pointed out, dating Scissorhands would free you of almost all domestic duties. Ed would no doubt make an excellent gardener, tailor, cook, ice-sculptor, and of course, hairstylist. His skill set and charm, in combination with his mysterious disposition complete with full-bodied leather attire, render him a very eligible candidate for the dating scene.
Oh, but wait! There’s just one thing we are forgetting to consider! Ed’s hands are made out of a copious assortment of sharp-edged blades over which he does not possess total control! It is not difficult to imagine how dating Scissorhands could easily look more like a reenactment of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre than a relationship! I’m not sure I’d be willing to risk my personal safety in order to give it a go. What if you and Ed were to get in a fight? Think of the consequences!
Finally, the fact that Edward is a man-made man cannot be overlooked. I know you’d like to think that as created beings you and Ed share many commonalities, but let’s face it, while you are both created, ontologically, you and Ed are completely different. Unlike every other human being, Edward does not possess a soul! How could you possibly have a serious relationship with someone who doesn’t have a soul? You might as well date your teakettle or your favorite stuffed animal.
…So, given that I could never connect with Scissorhands on a deep, soulful level, and that a relationship with him would inevitably make me a victim of domestic violence or worse, bring about my premature demise, I would buy some elastic-waist pants and date Wonka. While on the surface the candyman may appear emotionally distant and work-obsessed, I’m sure I could locate and bring out his inner romantic. And if I were to fail, at least I would have an endless supply of chocolate as long as we were together!!
Monday, August 16, 2010
Would you rather marry rich or marry smart?
Robin: Would you rather marry a man who far surpasses you in intellect and education (and be poor) or marry a man who far surpasses you in income (but isn't much for cognitive stimulation)? In both cases the man in question is NOT a commercial pilot!
Cira:
Okay, I’ll put my dreams of marrying a pilot aside in order to answer this doozey of a question. But to all you pilots out there: I’m single and available…and I want your travel benefits!!!!
To marry rich, or to marry smart—that is the question.
To marry smart:
"There can be no disparity in marriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose." Charles Dickens, David Copperfield
First off, I think we need to specify the kind of intelligence we are dealing with here. It is very rare to find someone who possesses academic smarts as well as other types of intelligence, such as social and emotional, or other practical forms of intelligence, such as financial. I suspect this hypothetically well-educated intellect is someone of high academic intelligence, someone who might typically be classified as a “nerd”. Provided that this is the case, I can list many obvious benefits to marrying someone of such mental acuity. First, I’d receive free, one-on-one education in various subjects, including quantum physics, astronomy, Latin and Greek, computer sciences, etc. Let’s face it: I’d never have to go back to school again! Goodbye student loans!
However, since by agreeing to marry smart, I’d be agreeing to a life of poverty, I think it is safe to assume Mr. Smarts is a dunce when it comes to financial matters, and is therefore lacking other important forms of intelligence as well. I would find it miserable to be married to someone I couldn’t relate to on an intimate emotional level. Plus, our conversational life would probably suffer due to our unequal levels of intelligence. The cons of this marriage would definitely outweigh the pros.
To marry rich:
“There is no road to wealth so easy and respectable as that of matrimony . . .” Anthony Trollope, Doctor Thorne
"I have made up my mind that I must have money, Pa. I feel that I can't beg it, borrow it, or steal it; and so I have resolved that I must marry it." Charles Dickens, Our Mutual Friend
I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. I would choose to marry the boring rich man. Yes, I know this may come as a shock to you, but hear me out. While he’d be off making his millions, I’d have ample time to indulge in the finer things in life. On any given day, you would find me gallivanting at galleries and museums, having lunch with the New York Times’ latest best-selling novelist, writing my own best-selling novel, flying to far-off destinations on my private jet, and making friends with the world’s most inspirational geniuses! Pff, who needs a smart husband when you have money! Basically, I’d see all of my relational needs met by the friends I would make. (And if I felt so inclined, I would also take a lover to see my romantic needs met as well. My rich husband would be too busy to notice.)
Robin:
Dear Cira,
When it comes to romantic tastes, one simply cannot judge the preferences of another. Though I frown upon a marriage based in materialism, I cannot help but see your choice as clearly beneficial to the both of us.
First, I will no doubt be the benefactor of your wealth. A few weeks of living with Mr. Dullsville and you will be dying for our spiritual/philosophical discussions. In fact, I’m sure to find you begging at my door as soon as the honeymoon ends, Chanel, Hermes and Lanvin piled in your arms as offerings for my meaningful friendship.
Second, you are a beautiful and bright female specimen, a worthy opponent on Love’s Battlefield. Nothing damages a female friendship like competition for male resources. Such competition is far to base for our relationship. If we are turning our romantic attentions in different directions within the dating pool, then we are free to concentrate our aggression towards each other in purely intellectual pursuits.
Now...for me and my hypothetical love life...
I’m going to have to take a classical stance on this particular issue. To run from a greater intellectual opponent is cowardly. Like Achilles of Homer’s great text, The Iliad, I would prefer to take a heroic stance in the face of a competitor. As Homer suggests, the noblest way to die is on your feet with a spear in your chest, for any other way would show that you ran or flinched as your opponent let his weapon fly.
Now, I do not mean to brag, but I know that my investment in education has moved me into the upper ranks of wit and intelligence. Though my future husband may be far superior in intellect, this does not mean that I am greatly lacking. I may, in fact, be as close to a worthy cognitive competitor as such a man could find.
As followers of literary history, we know that an intuitive reader expects the most witty of characters in a text to marry one another. During the Renaissance, Shakespeare provided us with such an example in Much Ado About Nothing. Even within the first act, an intuitive reader can predict that intellectual adversaries Beatrice and Benedick will fall in love. Later, in the neoclassical period, Congreve’s The Way of the World gives us similar love-doomed opponents, Mirabell and Millamant. In both couples the wit of both partners is not equally matched; rather, the superior wit must settle for the next best thing. In the case of our hypothetical matchmaking, I will be the next best thing.
So...as you swim in your giant pool of money (Scrooge McDuck style), I’ll be repeatedly stabbed in the chest by my husband’s barbs of wit. Wedded bliss, here I come!
Cira:
Okay, I’ll put my dreams of marrying a pilot aside in order to answer this doozey of a question. But to all you pilots out there: I’m single and available…and I want your travel benefits!!!!
To marry rich, or to marry smart—that is the question.
To marry smart:
"There can be no disparity in marriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose." Charles Dickens, David Copperfield
First off, I think we need to specify the kind of intelligence we are dealing with here. It is very rare to find someone who possesses academic smarts as well as other types of intelligence, such as social and emotional, or other practical forms of intelligence, such as financial. I suspect this hypothetically well-educated intellect is someone of high academic intelligence, someone who might typically be classified as a “nerd”. Provided that this is the case, I can list many obvious benefits to marrying someone of such mental acuity. First, I’d receive free, one-on-one education in various subjects, including quantum physics, astronomy, Latin and Greek, computer sciences, etc. Let’s face it: I’d never have to go back to school again! Goodbye student loans!
However, since by agreeing to marry smart, I’d be agreeing to a life of poverty, I think it is safe to assume Mr. Smarts is a dunce when it comes to financial matters, and is therefore lacking other important forms of intelligence as well. I would find it miserable to be married to someone I couldn’t relate to on an intimate emotional level. Plus, our conversational life would probably suffer due to our unequal levels of intelligence. The cons of this marriage would definitely outweigh the pros.
To marry rich:
“There is no road to wealth so easy and respectable as that of matrimony . . .” Anthony Trollope, Doctor Thorne
"I have made up my mind that I must have money, Pa. I feel that I can't beg it, borrow it, or steal it; and so I have resolved that I must marry it." Charles Dickens, Our Mutual Friend
I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. I would choose to marry the boring rich man. Yes, I know this may come as a shock to you, but hear me out. While he’d be off making his millions, I’d have ample time to indulge in the finer things in life. On any given day, you would find me gallivanting at galleries and museums, having lunch with the New York Times’ latest best-selling novelist, writing my own best-selling novel, flying to far-off destinations on my private jet, and making friends with the world’s most inspirational geniuses! Pff, who needs a smart husband when you have money! Basically, I’d see all of my relational needs met by the friends I would make. (And if I felt so inclined, I would also take a lover to see my romantic needs met as well. My rich husband would be too busy to notice.)
Robin:
Dear Cira,
When it comes to romantic tastes, one simply cannot judge the preferences of another. Though I frown upon a marriage based in materialism, I cannot help but see your choice as clearly beneficial to the both of us.
First, I will no doubt be the benefactor of your wealth. A few weeks of living with Mr. Dullsville and you will be dying for our spiritual/philosophical discussions. In fact, I’m sure to find you begging at my door as soon as the honeymoon ends, Chanel, Hermes and Lanvin piled in your arms as offerings for my meaningful friendship.
Second, you are a beautiful and bright female specimen, a worthy opponent on Love’s Battlefield. Nothing damages a female friendship like competition for male resources. Such competition is far to base for our relationship. If we are turning our romantic attentions in different directions within the dating pool, then we are free to concentrate our aggression towards each other in purely intellectual pursuits.
Now...for me and my hypothetical love life...
I’m going to have to take a classical stance on this particular issue. To run from a greater intellectual opponent is cowardly. Like Achilles of Homer’s great text, The Iliad, I would prefer to take a heroic stance in the face of a competitor. As Homer suggests, the noblest way to die is on your feet with a spear in your chest, for any other way would show that you ran or flinched as your opponent let his weapon fly.
Now, I do not mean to brag, but I know that my investment in education has moved me into the upper ranks of wit and intelligence. Though my future husband may be far superior in intellect, this does not mean that I am greatly lacking. I may, in fact, be as close to a worthy cognitive competitor as such a man could find.
As followers of literary history, we know that an intuitive reader expects the most witty of characters in a text to marry one another. During the Renaissance, Shakespeare provided us with such an example in Much Ado About Nothing. Even within the first act, an intuitive reader can predict that intellectual adversaries Beatrice and Benedick will fall in love. Later, in the neoclassical period, Congreve’s The Way of the World gives us similar love-doomed opponents, Mirabell and Millamant. In both couples the wit of both partners is not equally matched; rather, the superior wit must settle for the next best thing. In the case of our hypothetical matchmaking, I will be the next best thing.
So...as you swim in your giant pool of money (Scrooge McDuck style), I’ll be repeatedly stabbed in the chest by my husband’s barbs of wit. Wedded bliss, here I come!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Would you rather live in New York or Los Angeles/San Fran? Do you fancy yourself an East Coast or a West Coast gal?
Cira: Would you rather live in New York or Los Angeles/San Fran? Do you fancy yourself an East Coast or a West Coast gal?
Robin: This question poses something of a problem, as I have never been to New York or San Francisco. I wouldn't consider LA an option - I'm far too brunette, pale and nonsurgical-enhanced to fit in with the culture. As for the two legit options, I am willing to go out on a limb and hypothesize life in both places:
New York, NY:
Old Blue Eyes said it best.
New York is one of the world's most influential business & cultural centres. Big name artist, big corporations, big billboards, big statue of a lady with Morton's Toe. New York is the kind of city that will absorb any one and any thing. The population of the greater metropolitan area of new York City is estimated at over 22 million people. To put this in perspective, Canada's population is just over 34 million. And by the way, the greater metropolitan area of New York City is less than the area of Vancouver Island.
Alive with diversity, New York would be a stimulating and exciting place to call home. I could wear whatever I want, go out whenever I want, meet (or avoid) whoever I want, and surround myself with arts & culture. I'd never spend another Friday night home alone watching episodes of Friends. But something inside me, a part of me that loves Abbotsford, likes things a little slower, a little simpler.
In the bustle of millions of people, I think I could get lost. The city is so overwhelming and all-encompassing, that I'd feel myself shrinking away. Friends, jobs, apartments...all can be lost and found without much concern or effort. The turn over rate of such things is as fast as you want it to be. People move past each other speedily, not smiling or giving a friendly nod to others. I like that I cannot possibly disappear where I live now. I experience community that keeps me accountable for my decisions and behaviour. The thought of being in a place where you don't even have to move in order to "run away" is a little scary.
People go to New York for a reason. They want to make it big. They want to succeed. People are focused on achieving specific personal goals. I think a culture driven by that underlying principle would be filled with anxiety and pressure. Laid back folks who choose to meander through life would be frowned upon. I like living somewhere with less expansive expectations, where accomplishments like having kids and getting married are still seen as precious goals. In New York, people expect greatness, and I'm not sure I've got that greatness in me.
San Francisco, CA
"I wandered out like a haggard ghost, and there she was, Frisco - long, bleak streets with trolley wires all shrouded in fog and whiteness." - On the Road
Cira: To anyone out there who reads this blog on a regular basis, I apologize for my delayed response to this most recent question. I am quite upset with myself for posing this question as I had an extremely difficult time coming up with an answer. I’ve been to New York and L. A., but never to San Fran. I’ll try to be as impartial as possible in delivering my response.
Robin: This question poses something of a problem, as I have never been to New York or San Francisco. I wouldn't consider LA an option - I'm far too brunette, pale and nonsurgical-enhanced to fit in with the culture. As for the two legit options, I am willing to go out on a limb and hypothesize life in both places:
New York, NY:
I want to wake up in that city
That doesn't sleep
And find I'm King
of the Hill
Top of the Heap...
If I can make it there,
I can
make it anywhere.
It's up to you.
New York, New York
Old Blue Eyes said it best.
New York is one of the world's most influential business & cultural centres. Big name artist, big corporations, big billboards, big statue of a lady with Morton's Toe. New York is the kind of city that will absorb any one and any thing. The population of the greater metropolitan area of new York City is estimated at over 22 million people. To put this in perspective, Canada's population is just over 34 million. And by the way, the greater metropolitan area of New York City is less than the area of Vancouver Island.
Alive with diversity, New York would be a stimulating and exciting place to call home. I could wear whatever I want, go out whenever I want, meet (or avoid) whoever I want, and surround myself with arts & culture. I'd never spend another Friday night home alone watching episodes of Friends. But something inside me, a part of me that loves Abbotsford, likes things a little slower, a little simpler.
In the bustle of millions of people, I think I could get lost. The city is so overwhelming and all-encompassing, that I'd feel myself shrinking away. Friends, jobs, apartments...all can be lost and found without much concern or effort. The turn over rate of such things is as fast as you want it to be. People move past each other speedily, not smiling or giving a friendly nod to others. I like that I cannot possibly disappear where I live now. I experience community that keeps me accountable for my decisions and behaviour. The thought of being in a place where you don't even have to move in order to "run away" is a little scary.
People go to New York for a reason. They want to make it big. They want to succeed. People are focused on achieving specific personal goals. I think a culture driven by that underlying principle would be filled with anxiety and pressure. Laid back folks who choose to meander through life would be frowned upon. I like living somewhere with less expansive expectations, where accomplishments like having kids and getting married are still seen as precious goals. In New York, people expect greatness, and I'm not sure I've got that greatness in me.
San Francisco, CA
If you're going to San Francisco,
Be sure to wear some flowers
in your hair.
If you're going to San Francisco,
You're
going to meet some gentle people there.
A few fun facts about San Fran:
1.) San Francisco, is, according to my ultimate source of knowledge, Wikipedia, the "center of liberal activism in the United States."
2.) San Francisco has history, not as much as NYC, but a decent rooting. The first Europeans in the San Francisco area were the Spanish in, who built a Catholic mission there in 1776. The California Gold Rush and WWII also played key roles in shaping the city.
3.) Not a fact, but a food: Rice-a-Roni
4.) Street cars are still in operation for public transit - how Romantic!!
5.) Many great minds and major cultural influencers have called San Fran home, including: Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Clint Eastwood, Danny Glover, Tupac Shakur, Robert Frost, Jack London, The Zodiac Killer, Carol Channing, Francis Ford Coppola, Robert Louis Stevenson, Mark Twain, Sharon Stone and Robin Williams, to name a few.
6.) San Fran is a feast for the eyes! Both man made (Golden Gate Bridge, Chinatown, Mission District, Victorian Houses) and natural (ocean, mountains) features are a photographer's dream.
7.) The city is one of America's largest financial hubs. San Fran is so deeply and successfully entrenched in the financial world, that not a single bank in the city was forced to close during the Great Depression.
San Francisco is the kind of place that you might go to with no agenda, or with the thought that you are "just passing through." Hipsters, hippies, beatniks, business people, artists, poets, all kinds of people have found themselves captivated by the city's beauty and laid back attitude. It is in this mysteriously diverse city that I could see myself living!
And now a little Kerouac..."I wandered out like a haggard ghost, and there she was, Frisco - long, bleak streets with trolley wires all shrouded in fog and whiteness." - On the Road
Cira: To anyone out there who reads this blog on a regular basis, I apologize for my delayed response to this most recent question. I am quite upset with myself for posing this question as I had an extremely difficult time coming up with an answer. I’ve been to New York and L. A., but never to San Fran. I’ll try to be as impartial as possible in delivering my response.
Okay, thoughts on New York:
In her 2005 album, Confessions on a Dance Floor, the eloquent and ever-wise Madonna sang:
I don't like cities, but I like New York
Other places make me feel like a dork
Los Angeles is for people who sleep
Paris and London, baby you can keep
Well Madonna, I’m not sure that by relocating myself to a new city I would be able to rid myself of my inherently dorkish disposition. In fact, I’m sure that New York would only make me feel dorkier than I already do. I doubt I’d ever be able to get used to the fast-paced lifestyle that the average New Yorker endures. I’d probably never fit in. Plus, I really like to sleep.
According to Jay-Z, New York’s “streets will make you feel brand new” and “her big lights will inspire you.” I have a hard time associating New York with renewal and inspiration. Just thinking about New York is enough to make me feel tired. I don’t think New York is a place where one travels to unwind or gain a fresh perspective on life. In fact, when thinking about adjective to describe New York, “fresh” is probably the last word that comes to mind. One thing I distinctly remember about New York is the city’s unpleasant smells (which I will not describe out of respect for our more squeamish readers). As someone who appreciates clean air and…well…cleanliness in general, I’m not sure New York is a city I could settle down in for the long-term.
Moreover, I think that through their respective songs about New York, both Madonna and Jay-Z (and Alicia Keys) demonstrate the attitude many New Yorkers possess: that New York is the center of the universe and that to live elsewhere is to live a less fulfilling life. You hear stories about people who never leave Manhattan, not because they can’t, but because they feel no need to travel elsewhere. I wouldn’t want to live in a place where I’d be at risk of losing sight of reality.
It seems that cities do not foster self-reflection. All the lights, the action, the hustle and the bustle make it nearly impossible to slow down and ponder the more important aspects of life. And New York is the epitome of all cities. I’m sure that in addition to losing sight of reality, by living in New York, I’d also be at risk for losing my sense of self.
Now onto thoughts on L. A. :
I’m not actually sure why I included L. A. in this question. I just wanted to compare a major eastern city to a major western one, but I couldn’t decide which to choose. I probably would not want to live in L. A. Besides, I can always revisit episodes of The Hills in order live vicariously through Lauren Conrad to get my L. A. fix, if the need should arise.
Finally, thoughts on San Fran:
Google images of San Francisco. Aside from the Golden Gate bridge (of which there are copious images taken from various angles and at various times of day), it seems the only things and people unique to the city are Alcatraz, trolleys, Harvey Milk, hippies, and rows of tightly packed bungalow houses that will forever remind me of Full House. Although San Fran is one America’s most well known cities, it seemingly pales in comparison to the bright lights and endless attractions that pepper New York. Regardless, I think it is a city in which I could definitely live for an extended period of time. From what I can gather, San Fran has always attracted a certain demographic. It has long been recognized as a hub for artists, poets, and hippies—a crowd with which I would love to mingle.
San Francisco dwellers are also a recreational, health-conscious bunch. Last night while at the gym, I happened to flip through a woman's health magazine during my turn on the stairmaster. In addition to learning Kim Kashardian’s latest and greatest work-out secrets, I happened upon an article that discussed America’s top ten healthiest cities. I haven’t a clue how the results of the article were calculated or on what exactly they were based, (I’m sure Shape magazine is wholeheartedly committed to honest journalism and employs only the most reliable statisticians when conducting its surveys), but San Fran made the cut! (Needless to say New York did not.) I’d prefer to live in a city, like San Fran, whose denizens concern themselves with exercise and proper diet as opposed to one in which people opt for convenience at the expense of their health and well-being.
On that note, I’m going to wrap up this response. While New York is bigger and brighter than San Fran, I don’t think I could ever extend my stay past 2 weeks. Therefore, I would choose to live in San Francisco rather than New York. I guess it’s true what they say: you can take the girl out of the west, but you can’t take the west out of the girl.
Would you rather live (for the rest of your life) with a thick, black choker fastened around your neck, or with a large, flame-breathing dragon...
Would you rather live (for the rest of your life) with a thick, black choker fastened around your neck, or with a large, flame-breathing dragon tattooed to your bicep? (Note: a regular t-shirt sleeve would not cover the tattoo.)
Robin: Despite knowing all too well how incredibly painful getting a tattoo is, I'd still have to go with the dragon tattoo. A tattoo, even a really bad one, is explainable. The explanation may be humbling, but at least there may be a logical answer for the monstrosity.
"Hey Robin, that's quite the tattoo you've got there"
"Oh, tell me about it.....you should see the emotional scars that go along with it. Lesson learned, never drink moonshine made by someone named Billie Rae."
OR
"Wow, Robin, what's the story behind that wicked tat?"
"Didn't I tell you I used to roll with a Yakuza gang? It was a long time ago...before I met Jesus.'
The story, however fictional, could be used to create an aura of mystery and intrigue. Even in the rather conservative community of Abbotsford, a story of adventure and/or redemption can go a long way in improving your social status. When you get sick of questions and stares, there are unlimited 3/4 or full sleeve options out there.
Now, for the black choker...
I'm all for signature accessories but a choker isn't the kind of item that should be put into that category. It's just not a 'daily wear' item, like a watch, or tennis bracelet. Chokers for the most part aren't flattering, or particularly stylish (unless it's 1996 and you're wearing it with butterfly hair clips). Wearing a totally removable and unfashionable item every day reeks of crazy, and not past crazy like the tattoo. Even just thinking of it gives me the shivers. It reminds me of a short story I read where the female protagonist wore a ribbon around her neck all her life, and when they finally took it off her head fell off. I'd like to keep my head, and a little dignity...it's the tattoo life for me.
Cira: I think this question is one that is particularly relevant to both of us. It asks us to consider whether, given a difficult choice, we’d be willing to showcase our least desirable assets: for you, your neck, and for me, my arms.
Robin: Despite knowing all too well how incredibly painful getting a tattoo is, I'd still have to go with the dragon tattoo. A tattoo, even a really bad one, is explainable. The explanation may be humbling, but at least there may be a logical answer for the monstrosity.
"Hey Robin, that's quite the tattoo you've got there"
"Oh, tell me about it.....you should see the emotional scars that go along with it. Lesson learned, never drink moonshine made by someone named Billie Rae."
OR
"Wow, Robin, what's the story behind that wicked tat?"
"Didn't I tell you I used to roll with a Yakuza gang? It was a long time ago...before I met Jesus.'
The story, however fictional, could be used to create an aura of mystery and intrigue. Even in the rather conservative community of Abbotsford, a story of adventure and/or redemption can go a long way in improving your social status. When you get sick of questions and stares, there are unlimited 3/4 or full sleeve options out there.
Now, for the black choker...
I'm all for signature accessories but a choker isn't the kind of item that should be put into that category. It's just not a 'daily wear' item, like a watch, or tennis bracelet. Chokers for the most part aren't flattering, or particularly stylish (unless it's 1996 and you're wearing it with butterfly hair clips). Wearing a totally removable and unfashionable item every day reeks of crazy, and not past crazy like the tattoo. Even just thinking of it gives me the shivers. It reminds me of a short story I read where the female protagonist wore a ribbon around her neck all her life, and when they finally took it off her head fell off. I'd like to keep my head, and a little dignity...it's the tattoo life for me.
Cira: I think this question is one that is particularly relevant to both of us. It asks us to consider whether, given a difficult choice, we’d be willing to showcase our least desirable assets: for you, your neck, and for me, my arms.
As much as I would hate to draw more attention to my arms, I too would choose the dragon tattoo. Although I am by no means an erudite dragon scholar, I do happen to know that dragons are prominent figures in the mythological backgrounds that inform both Eastern and Western cultural traditions and that they are rife with symbolism and meaning. While in the West dragons are typically associated with ferocity and malice (take Tolkien’s Smaug for example), a little help from Wikepedia informed me that in the East, dragons are associated with positive attributes such as wisdom, benevolence, and fecundity—attributes associated with femininity, rendering the dragon tattoo an appropriate choice for either of us.
As for the choker: yes, I too am all for signature accessories, but the only remotely chokeresque accessories that are in vogue right now are those bejeweled bib necklaces, and I would never want to wear such a statement piece every single day!
Chokers remind me of a noose or a dog collar. Apparently they arrived on the fashion scene in the late nineteenth century, an era of which neither of us is particularly fond. They were meant to accentuate the slender part of a woman while drawing attention away from her “less admirable” assets.
Now that I think about it, dragons and chokers symbolize two very juxtaposed positions towards the feminine. While dragons (in the East anyway) celebrate female qualities, chokers are reminiscent of a time of when women were seen as secondary to men, a time when they were restricted to domesticity and a time when they were expected to suppress their sexuality.
So after much consideration, I have decided to take my place beside you on the dragon tattoo bandwagon. To be honest, a dragon tattoo no longer sounds like such a bad idea…
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Would you rather be a friar or a rabbi?
This question circulated the lunch room at CBC during coffee break. I thought it was brilliant.
Ron Penner, CBC President: Would you rather by a friar or a rabbi?
Cira: Due to my recent study of Thomas Merton and Catholicism in general, my immediate response to this question was to choose friar. Although Merton was a monk and not a friar, his writings demonstrate how a life devoted to celibacy and poverty lead to profound spiritual enrichment and intimacy with God. However, I'm not sure I'm cut out for adherence to the strict asceticism of the friar life. In fact, I think I am better suited to assume the responsibilities of a rabbi. I think I would make a good teacher/spiritual director, and my psychology background would lend itself to these tasks. Plus, if I were a rabbi, I could devote myself to the study of the Torah and would get to learn Hebrew!
Robin: Cira, let's be real here. There are two HUGE reasons that friar is where it's at.
REASON ONE: LANGUAGE
Hebrew is a very Mathematical language. I'm not sure or brains would lend themselves to such a language easily. Did you know that Hebrew is written from right to left? Think of the endless handwashing required to keep up with the ink stains as you copy the text! And the verb "to be" does not exist in Hebrew in present tense. Imagine the existential crisis that would ensue if you started thinking of yourself in Hebrew - our Western minds need present identities.
Then you must reflect on the happy life of the friar, reading and writing text in Latin. How blissful to the Indo-European descendent, to read a language in a recognizable alphabet. English is so similar to Latin. It's syntax, grammar, phonemes, all comfortingly familiar. And let's not forget, that once trained in Latin, Ovid's Metamorphosis in its original language could offer a much needed break from the duties of the friar.
REASON TWO: WARDROBE
Google rabbi. What do you see? Men in crazy hats with suits and rad beards. We both know how challenging it can be to look good in hats. The beauty of one's face can easily be transformed into the grotesque by the incorrect hat shape. And beards....well, I'm sure that I could grow something on my face, I'm just not sure how beardlike it would be. And as for the suits. Tailored clothing can be so unforgiving if you gain a few pounds, which leads me to...
Google friar. What do you see? Smiling fat men in brown robes with outstretched welcoming arms. The robe is a very forgiving article of clothing. It comes in a variety of neutral shades and can be belted to accentuate the waist. For the same reason we love dresses, we can now also love the robe.
The answer is clear. I want to ring bells, sweep cloisters, collect alms for the poor, wear a forgiving wardrobe, practice my Latin, follow the liturgical calendar and sprinkle babies with Holy Water. It's disciplined, comfortable and fashionable, yup, friar life is for me.
Ron Penner, CBC President: Would you rather by a friar or a rabbi?
Cira: Due to my recent study of Thomas Merton and Catholicism in general, my immediate response to this question was to choose friar. Although Merton was a monk and not a friar, his writings demonstrate how a life devoted to celibacy and poverty lead to profound spiritual enrichment and intimacy with God. However, I'm not sure I'm cut out for adherence to the strict asceticism of the friar life. In fact, I think I am better suited to assume the responsibilities of a rabbi. I think I would make a good teacher/spiritual director, and my psychology background would lend itself to these tasks. Plus, if I were a rabbi, I could devote myself to the study of the Torah and would get to learn Hebrew!
Robin: Cira, let's be real here. There are two HUGE reasons that friar is where it's at.
REASON ONE: LANGUAGE
Hebrew is a very Mathematical language. I'm not sure or brains would lend themselves to such a language easily. Did you know that Hebrew is written from right to left? Think of the endless handwashing required to keep up with the ink stains as you copy the text! And the verb "to be" does not exist in Hebrew in present tense. Imagine the existential crisis that would ensue if you started thinking of yourself in Hebrew - our Western minds need present identities.
Then you must reflect on the happy life of the friar, reading and writing text in Latin. How blissful to the Indo-European descendent, to read a language in a recognizable alphabet. English is so similar to Latin. It's syntax, grammar, phonemes, all comfortingly familiar. And let's not forget, that once trained in Latin, Ovid's Metamorphosis in its original language could offer a much needed break from the duties of the friar.
REASON TWO: WARDROBE
Google rabbi. What do you see? Men in crazy hats with suits and rad beards. We both know how challenging it can be to look good in hats. The beauty of one's face can easily be transformed into the grotesque by the incorrect hat shape. And beards....well, I'm sure that I could grow something on my face, I'm just not sure how beardlike it would be. And as for the suits. Tailored clothing can be so unforgiving if you gain a few pounds, which leads me to...
Google friar. What do you see? Smiling fat men in brown robes with outstretched welcoming arms. The robe is a very forgiving article of clothing. It comes in a variety of neutral shades and can be belted to accentuate the waist. For the same reason we love dresses, we can now also love the robe.
The answer is clear. I want to ring bells, sweep cloisters, collect alms for the poor, wear a forgiving wardrobe, practice my Latin, follow the liturgical calendar and sprinkle babies with Holy Water. It's disciplined, comfortable and fashionable, yup, friar life is for me.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Would you rather live the rest of your life in permanent dimness or fluorescent light?
Robin: Would you rather live the rest of your life in permanent dimness (i.e. never see colour again) or fluorescent light (i.e. look hideous)?
Cira: I would choose to live in dimness for several reasons, the first of which has to do with sleep. If I were to live fluorescent lighting, my endocrine system would cease to secrete melatonin. As you well know, I already have trouble sleeping in normal conditions, and I don't think permanent bright lighting would help. Plus, as you point out, fluorescent light is not very complementary. If I lived in permanent dimness, I really would be free to not care about my appearance - how liberating!
Robin:
An argument in haiku:
Cycle I
Artificial Light
See bags, scars, acne and lines
Nightmare without night
Cycle II
Use only our rods
Now the ugly is unseen
Kindness in dimness
Cira: I would choose to live in dimness for several reasons, the first of which has to do with sleep. If I were to live fluorescent lighting, my endocrine system would cease to secrete melatonin. As you well know, I already have trouble sleeping in normal conditions, and I don't think permanent bright lighting would help. Plus, as you point out, fluorescent light is not very complementary. If I lived in permanent dimness, I really would be free to not care about my appearance - how liberating!
Robin:
An argument in haiku:
Cycle I
Artificial Light
See bags, scars, acne and lines
Nightmare without night
Cycle II
Use only our rods
Now the ugly is unseen
Kindness in dimness
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