Damn You, Irony

And Jane Eyre, but we’ll get to her in post later this week.  I spent the second half of the nineties and the first few years of the 21st century ignoring, repressing, pummeling, shackling, and then tolerating the passions.*  I barricaded myself in the drapes of philosophy, true crime, and the escapist qualities of cinema, literature, and music.   It worked for a while.  Retreating so far from the road of socially quotidian goals and lifestyle choices sustained and nurtured my self-perception.  That plan ran its course after a dozen years, and then I was soon filled with a Battleship Potemkin sized interiority.

Physiological sensation wanted a right to vote, wanted to be heard.  No vexation without representation.  In my thirtieth year of existence, the dominant political party has changed alliances and platforms.  All propaganda and policies of “Don’t, Shouldn’t, Don’t Even Bother,” have been ousted and replaced by, “Do It, You Should, Why Ever Not.”   And for three months of this new leadership term, the citizens within my being were living with each other harmoniously.  At the very least, they weren’t inciting violence or loud noises in the ungodly hours of the morning.

And then the peace, or truce, began to crumble.  There were already disturbances outside of the kingdom.  Long-time trading partners and sovereign nation allies found the change of power inexplicable, nonsensical, and likely intolerable.**  Implementing an isolationist component to my daily operations will have to suffice until such time that I secure more complementary and ideologically beneficial allegiances.

Now that the authoritative dynamics have undergone a role-reversal from the inside, it is no longer the passions that I wish to repress or silence.  It is now the over-thinking, over-pattern-seeking, facetious, Avoidance Cynic that is behaving like a knight left behind at the Crusades.  “Hey! What about me!”

And yes, what about you?   You’ve been in office way too long.  It’s time to let someone else call the shots.  I’m not going to pretend you don’t exist because you’ll just incite riots on the sidewalks and inspire panics at every disco.  Instead, I’m going to abide by the agendas of the new regime.

I have to

I have to follow the feeling…because I am “tired of [my] capacity for cynicism, tired of seeing only faults in [myself] and others, [I] wished to be overwhelmed by [my] feelings for a fellow human being. [I} wanted a situation where there would be no choice, no time to sigh and ask, ‘But are he and I really that suited anyway?’, where analysis and interpretation would be superfluous, where the other would simply be an unquestionable and wholly natural presence” (Alain de Botton, 1-2).

To my paramour, even if I cannot be your life, let me be your sanctuary.


* Wrath notwithstanding.

** Alain de Botton on intolerance: It “starts with two elements, a concept of what is right and wrong and the idea that one cannot let others live without seeing the light” (On Love, 81).

2 thoughts on “Damn You, Irony

  1. Philippe

    I read a piece in Slate.com a couple of years ago that said that you are more likely to find the love-of-your-life in a small town than in a megalopolis.

    Assuming that the percentage of people compatible to you in any given population is 1%, you are, in a megalopolis, going to have to go on dates with countless thousands of others before coming across the love-of-your-life. This could take until you are well past your sell-by date in attractiveness to others.

    But, living in a small town, you won’t have to go on that many dates before you happen across the love-of-your-life.

    This dynamic is why the four women in “Sex and the City” (the TV version) couldn’t find the right men.

    So, if you are desperate to meet the love-of -your-life, move out of New York City (or its equivalent) and move to Harrietstown (or its equivalent).

    A great piece of writing, yours, by the way.

    1. sittingpugs Post author

      Funny you should say “I read a piece in Slate.com a couple of years ago that said that you are more likely to find the love-of-your-life in a small town than in a megalopolis” because that would explain people who marry (or commit to life partners sans legal documents) their high school sweethearts, college sweethearts, colleagues, or friend of friend.

      In a big city, there are too many fish, in a smaller setting, as long as the sample is just big enough, one doesn’t have to siphon through the entire catalog. One may strike gold on the first or second go.

      And I don’t believe in dating either. I spend time with people who fascinate me and make me laugh…and when my desire or longing for the company of a specific person so that I may experience more than just a stimulating conversation, then I know I’ve found something that I’m going to hold onto for as long as it’ll have me.


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