2006-06-23 - 2:07 p.m.
Ahhh…cathartic venting of mental frustration over. Somewhat nice to have boiled off the viscous vitriol of conflicting quandaries. I hereby promise to leave most of that to the trash bin of my computer for later vilification, so as not to bore the be-Jesus out of your people with five pages – five pages! – of inexpert rambling. Left over after the burning off process, I came to two conclusions.
The mixed messages as to female independence in the culture that frustrate me on occasion, are just that, mixed messages in the culture and something noted frequently in many a source. It’s odd to have both out there, and certainly confusing, and it’d be nice if they made up their mind, and I’d really like it if they went in a certain direction, but any frustration with that status should be leveled squarely and only at a culture in slow, painful transition.
As to the lack of a new male role-model. The idea of many of these social philosophies is to knock down expectations on gender, race and class. Thus there is no “good man,” “good woman,” or “good minority.” Just good people. While social programs should exist to protect those who bear the weight of discrimination, the determination of what should define a person and what should define what is “good,” is a discussion of universal and personal ethics. Simply that, with no other labels to it.
If anything, that feeling of confusion I was talking about when it came to the male role model is a existentialist-like loss of ego, of quick definitions, or labels, leaving the definition of self simply based on choice, and making them that much more weighty. Not the easiest thing in the world, but just as it should be.
Whew…three paragraphs and I’m done.
Now onto the Elf-Polo.
Most Americans don’t recognize the sport of elf-polo, despite its stature as the World’s Game. Now, it can be said that the elf population in the States has dwindled and taken the fervor for this time honored tradition with it. The reasons for the thinning of elf-packs can mainly be blamed on the large population of plastic surgeons from sea to shining sea. Their numbers not being checked by a predator these surgeons feast upon the ears of the elfin and render them indistinguishable from the normal populace. The only solution I can see is to feed more funding to cos-players and Star Trek fans so we can balance this all out.
Still, with a bolstered elf community in Europe, South America and Asia, elf-polo still holds tightly to the heart strings of the majority of the world. Is it the tense competition that lures them in? The pageantry? The funny faces the elves make when they run out of strength and crumple under the weight of their human jockeys? How knows, really? A good time is had by all, and this great game allows the world to come together in their love of very over-weighted pointy eared semi-mystical beings.
Not only that, but it allows the elves an inspiration to escape the grinding life so many lead in the poor conditions of cookie factories, and vegetable farms. So many of our fantastical friends have been lost to sugar vats or overgrown beet vines. But they can only expect that when that is all that they know. The great glory of elf-polo inspires the world to aspire to more.
This may not be our time to join the world in their sport, but the day will come, and for the betterment of us all. For on that day, when we drag our pointy eared combatants on into battle, looking across the pitch, eye to eye, or eye to kneecap, depending, we will be as friends, all equal in the our appreciation for sport, and for elfin abuse.
Now, ogre tennis…that’s just awful.
But that’s just one person’s opinion.
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