There’s this story that I am reminded of about the Chinese emperors and their eunuchs. For those who don’t know, a eunuch is a man who makes a conscious choice to castrate himself. This was done in the ancient Chinese courts so as the king would never feel threatened by his keepers. On the flip side, as much power and manliness the eunuchs gave away, it was as much power, privilege and social standing that the eunuchs also received by virtue of being in the king’s court. What had struck to mind was how one particular individual had with the blessing of his family decided to castrate himself and offer himself to the courts. This had happened in the 1930’s, except after the individual had gone after much hardship and pain, (he was unable to walk for months and was unconscious for days after the operation) to attain eunuch status, the king by such time had abdicated his throne. In the same way, by the time we had finished our drinks, buying our second third mortgages, fifth Banana Republic outfit, left our wives fort that ‘Ford’ model was the week the markets, the president, the system, the king imploded and abdicated.
If anyone studies history they will walk away with the understanding that things happen over and over again. This is the pinch, if we were really listening to ourselves we would never allowed ourselves to over extend, over believe, over commit, over socialize, over fabricate, and most importantly over fantasize what or who we were worth. It is a mistake to value one’s own worth based on social dexterity, market value, and ability to attain bottle service and entry to key night clubs. But how could you not? You were vain, and you enjoyed having your ego stoked, that plus that video of Paris blowing her man. You and Paris were finally here to stay and had ‘come’ to nirvana. And anyway you were a sucker for ‘Sex in the City,’ and you kind of fancied yourself as a Carrie Bradshaw or at least Mr. Big.
If one bothers to watch TV one is continuously inundated with the idea that with a little bit of hard work, perseverance, moral fiber and love of GOD and country then one can attain their own rightful place in Nirvanna. As long as you are likable, not kicked off some show or your job, can afford to make the monthly payments and still carry on as if being at a function like tonight’s meant the world to you then the universe would forever love you. What the ads neglected to tell you, somewhere in the universe is something called the black hole and where we were living in now was its own version of the black hole. We had the dark ages, the civil wars of Europe and the States, World War one and two outbreaks, the great depression in the 20’s, the great stagflation in the seventies and now suddenly the great ideological hangover.
Yet here we were forever acclimated to Balenciaga, flat bellied tuna rolls, and personal trainers and the undying belief that was happening to people out there on the street and now finally us (how sad we were no longer immune to life’s catastrophes and inconveniences) was something that had come from the heaven’s or from some sort of malicious behavior from crooks like Bernie Madoff. The idea that our woes were self inflicted in the same way a junkie’s or an alcoholic are his own (never mind the addiction has now taken a life devoid of the owners) never crosses our mind. How could one keep believing in the idea that everything only went up, how could one keep believing in the idea that in reality human beings don’t have the moral fiber to make the same choices cinema heroes do. And yet, it was exactly what we kept believing and hoping for. Like a jilted lover who believes that our love bait will return or the guy walking up to me at that very moment his handshake could secure the confidence of an imminent world wind friendship.
“Dude, I thought that was you. Wow, I’ll never forget that party at your house. And your girlfriend, what’s her name…?”
“She’s no longer with me.”
Who was no longer with me, wasn’t just the girl, the house, but also the old arrogant me. Yet here I was at some nondescript charity function raising money for what I stopped long ago memorizing, watching paintings that over a year would of commanded princely sums, watching someone who probably six months ago would’ve of by now being slapping his business card in the palm of my hand looking furtively at me before finally walking out.
As we left that event later that evening, I must’ve accidentally bumped into a couple who had been at the time taking pictures of some super icon plastered over Times Square. I must’ve silently sworn a million times, but when I raised my head momentarily to see what they had been looking at I realized what they were looking at wasn’t really a reflection of who they actually were but a reflection of who they thought they were and what they could possibly become.
This was forever the beauty of living in America, and yet somehow it had become the thing that had seduced us into innocuous behavior. As I put my head down, my gift bag strewn on the ground I realized the couple by now had moved on. All that remained was the idyllic smile of a billboard super hero and the remnants of a cherry lip gloss rolling idly somewhere along Broadway.
Several of your would be hard hitting lines were rendered impotent by typos and grammatical errors. I like your style, but you may want to find someone to proofread for you.