Lost Countries

People whose inner lives we will never know. Houseman, TE Lawrence, Lincoln,

Why should it matter? These private lives, how they were lived, who they loved? We as a society value our privacy, yet we feel the need to know about others’ lives–as proven by the prolificness of biographies.

DEDICATION
To S.A.
I loved you, so I drew these tides of men into my hands
and wrote my will across the sky in stars
To earn you Freedom, the seven-pillared worthy house,
that your eyes might be shining for me
When we came.

Death seemed my servant on the road, till we were near
and saw you waiting:
When you smiled, and in sorrowful envy he outran me
and took you apart:Into his quietness.

Love, the way-weary, groped to your body, our brief wage
ours for the moment
Before earth’s soft hand explored your shape, and the blind
worms grew fat upon
Your substance.

Men prayed me that I set our work, the inviolate house,
as a memory of you.
But for fit monument I shattered it, unfinished: and now
The little things creep out to patch themselves hovels
in the marred shadow
Of your gift.

School of Life

There’s a funny little bit in Robert Salis’ Grande École that pretty much sums up the film. While having coffee with his roommate Choquet, Paul begins to muss up his hair and take off his tie:

Choquet: What are you doing?
Paul: I’m trying to de-bourgeoise myself.
Choquet: The word is dis-embourgeoise, I think.

Man. Only the French.

I have a soft spot for movies with well-to-do and well-educated young people who try to grapple with Big Ideas: social inequality, power, race, sexuality– the works (Whit Stillman’s Metropolitan is the only American movie that comes to mind). Sure these kids are a spoiled lot, but they get some credit for at least doing some navel-gazing–I know lots of people in their situation who can’t even think beyond their latte-sipping, SUV-driving existence.

Grande École at least has characters who grapple with their liberal guit–at least when they’re not too busy playing sexual mindgames, as Paul’s girlfriend coerces him to into a wager involving seduction. Add to that Paul’s growing obsession with his patrician roommate Louis-Arnault, as well as his affair with an Arab worker, and it’s Dangerous Liaisons meets Threesome meets Maurice. It works mostly, except for the climax which I found pretty over-the-top French existential. I mean, Paul’s girlfriend actually interrupts an argument between Paul and Louis Arnault’s grilfriend by interjecting: “Sex is a different world. Like Greek or maths.” And no one tells her to shut the hell up. Overall though, some interesting ideas.

Plus–and this is just icing on the cake–it’s unbelievably rewarding on the eye candy front. I mean, they have this amazingly sensuous scene where Paul watches Louis-Arnault and his teammates practice water polo. And then he gets invited to watch them hit the showers. With full frontal nudity. All set to Brahms/Joachim’s lush Hungarian Dance.

If I wasn’t gay before that scene, I was so a card-carrying poofter after that.

Something To Think About on Singles Awareness Day

” We used to say ten years ago it was pointless to study the brain science of emotion. We skeptically asked, “what does science have to do with that?” Now that very prevalent attitude has been chased out, and people realize that emotional life is a completely legitimate neurophysiological inquiry.

When mammals showed up on the planet, their method of reproduction was different. Unlike reptiles, they gave birth to live helpless young that had to be nurtured or wouldn’t survive. The parent had to monitor the physiology of the baby. This lead to the development of a part of the brain called the Great Limbic Lobe, which we share with all mammals.

Infants’ physiology is incomplete on its own; babies can’t get to sleep on their own, they need to be lulled to sleep; they can’t soothe themselves, instead seek out someone who can soothe them.
Just as infants need the regulating presence of the external contact figure, all of us are like infants, only bigger, and we also need the regulatory influence.

Most people think their body is self contained, that sugar levels are monitored internally and so on, oxygen, hormones. It’s very surprising that this not true – there are physiological parameters regulated by other people outside own body.

In our culture we construe loneliness as weakness, as a character defect, not as a “normal” need. But it’s based on brain evolution; there’s no choice about it. Just as when you’re hungry, or low on water and feel thirst, loneliness is a real physiological feeling telling you you need something vital. It hurts so much because it’s important to your health.

A relationship is not just an abstract idea, like the economy, it’s a live physiologic event much like a heartbeat or a breath or a muscle contraction.

Relationships have a grammar to them, a regularity that’s discoverable. Just as a child hears language spoken and discovers the regularities, the brain of a child studies relationships and pulls out the regularities, or rules, same as they learn the rules of their native language.

As a result, people often tend to fall in love with same person over and over. It’s very likely to be the end-product of their implicit memory, which is why they find some people interesting and others not so interesting. If they grew up with someone who didn’t listen to them, that’s what they want, even if they don’t know it – not someone who’s nice. Like some grew up in New York City; while other places might be nicer, they want New York, it’s what their emotional memory finds comfortable.

Regarding the urge for a One, it’s true that infants are born with orientation to one attachment figure that’s primary, and others that are secondary. Infants are not born to have multiple attachment figures, often to the dismay of many fathers; their orientation is towards One, primary, and with that one the physiological connection.

When they’re with someone they match with, someone they feel they “belong” with, they report they feel more like themselves than they did before. Some of strongest laid down parts of their emotional memory are connecting with those of the other person.

The urge is for not one person to satisfy every need, but for that feeling of deep bond and communion. It’s not only emotional, but physical and neurophysiological. To feel whole, or regulated – like after eating, you feel like you don’t need any more, or anyone else.

Once you establish that bond, it’s so solid and impermeable that can’t swap people out. You can see people who have had that physiological relationship for decades – if one dies the other dies, and I have seen people wander the planet bereft, unable to find another key for that lock.”

- Dr. Thomas Lewis, ” A General Theory of Love”

War In The Time of Golda

Last year, in a fit of optimism about living a life rich in culture in Los Angeles, I got season tickets to the Geffen Playhouse. (Alright, between you and me, I really got them because the first production of the season was Richard Greenberg’s Tony-winning Take Me Out. Which was about a gay baseball player. And it had nude shower scenes. You do the math.)

But honestly, not every play can meet those, uh, expectations. So after sitting through a rather politically correct (and somewhat tepid) production of Paint Your Wagon, I was less than enthused about the rest of the season. And after the day that I had, I was really not enthused about sitting through a two hour monologue about Israeli politics.

And at the end of the evening, I can honestly say that it wasn’t what I needed (Sometimes a frothy, mindless comedy beats an intense intellectual drama). But it was very educational–I mean seriously, how many people knew Golda Meir was from Milwaukee?– and at the very least, I have a better understanding of Middle Eastern politics.

One of the big revelations for people like me was Israel’s nuclear capabilities in 1973, and the resulting pressure to use that as a bargaining chip, or worse, in times of crisis. The Yom Kippur War certainly qualifies as such a time of crisis. But Golda wonders about the ramifications of such an act. If she orders nuclear bombs dropped on Saudi capitals, then will the Soviets retaliate by bombing Tel Aviv? Will the U.S. then bomb Moscow?

To be pushed against the wall and forced to consider striking down the first domino–it couldn’t have been easy for her.

Scissor Sisters at The Wiltern

Over the holidays, I got a bunch of friends to buy tickets to the Scissor Sisters concert at the Wiltern on January 31st. Not sure why–I like the band’s music alright, but not exactly in love with it. And it’s been ages since I’ve been to a concert–not really much of a concertgoer, actually. I mean I like people, but I hate crowds. Especially noisy, push-and-shove types. Which of course, is what a concert is all about.

But I showed up nonetheless. Me and my co-workers Kerry and Dean grabbed a bite at the nearby Dennys, where we were joined by my buddy Daniel and one of Kerry’s friends. Also ran into a few of my Rebellion teammates. Kinda strange and cool, that–how your world gets a little smaller each day.

As for the actual concert–well, it was mostly what I expected. The opening act was a group called Hey Willpower. We got a real kick out of the backup dancers. Then Scissor Sisters came on. I should have been enjoying myself, but I just couldn’t get in the mood. Too many people pushing, screaming, and generally getting on my nerves. There was this one whiny girl who picked a fight with one of my friends, all in an effort to move forward and get a better view.

I thought, “Man, I’m getting too old for this.” But then Daniel, who’s like nine years younger than I am, also looked pretty ill at ease. And he really loves their music. Some teenybopper with fairy wings kept bumping into him, I suppose jockeying for a better position as well. So I guess some people just weren’t meant to be concertgoers.

Still, the evening had its moments. I was glad they played “It Can’t Come Quickly Enough,” which always strikes a chord in me:

It can’t come quickly enough

And now you’ve spent your life

Waiting for this moment

And when you finally saw it come

It passed you by and left you so defeated

Which I guess is something we’ve all experienced–just waiting in anticipation for This Big Thing that we pin all our hopes and dreams to. And then it finally arrives…

…And then nothing.