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  • Something Positive - One of the best cartoons ever. Funny, mean, and touching, usually within a single word.
  • The Broken English - Highly recommended in the fight against chlamydia. Not for children over three foot eight, or lactating women.
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  • Wade un Birmingham - Non-Birmingham, presumably non-American Idol, non-boring, non-badly written
  • Waiting with Bated Breath - Not just for kids, Trix tastes great and is less filling.
  • Warren Ellis - Writer of stuff. Crotchety. Smokes a lot, so we like him.

TODAY'S DEEP THOUGHT:

If you wear a toupee, why not let your friends try it on for a while. Come on, we're not going to hurt it.


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Can there be a love which does not make demands on its object?*

15 May 2006 | This is Idiocy

Nope.

Which is to say, I suppose, it all depends on you, and what you define as love, and your background and experience and expectations and hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities and neuroses.

Not terribly long ago, in the greater scheme of things at least, I would have said yes. That’s the hopeless romantic in me, though, which has become - er, less hopeless, I guess is what I’m trying to say. I used to believe that, but I’ve come to recognize that, for me, such undemanding behavior is an extension of the codependence that I learned growing up, and a sign of the martyr complex that exists (hopefully) somewhere buried inside me.

Expecting selfless behavior of myself works in very limited contexts, but eventually, I need something back. I think, probably, that we all do, to varying degrees — whether a simple bit of recognition, or perhaps a full return of the attention in whatever form it was given. Without some return on my investment, though (and again, the ratio of give and take is entirely contextual), I become resentful and bitter.

Not to mention reminded of the person that I was, a person that I worked long and hard through my twenties to not be.

Not to say that this sort of thing — a totally selfless, one-way street sort of love — doesn’t exist. I’m sure that it does, although I have to imagine that it is rare. Mother Theresa, for one — I suspect that she wanted nothing in return. But then, there’s a reason that she was called the Living Saint.

Nor would I say that people who are capable of this are ill in any way, neither codependent or martyrs or anything else that you or I might try to classify them as. That, I think, is an outgrowth of the human conditioning, to automatically label something that we can’t relate to or understand as damaged in some way (when, really, it’s the person who can’t take the time and effort to understand who carries the burden of damage). If you’re one of those people who can love without expectation or condition, then more power to you.

Don’t hold yourself to standards you can’t live up to, though, as noble and ideal as it might be. The damage that that sort of self-expectation can cause is immense, and the scars it can leave are not something that people in your future will want to deal with.

I guess what I’m saying is that the world would be a much better place if we all got oral sex on at least a weekly basis. And a free steak dinner afterwards. Unless you’re vegetarian, in which case I guess a salad would do.

* Today’s subject helpfully provided by one of many pieces of spam mail that I received throughout the course of a sngle day. If you wish to send thanks, I understand that many spammers really like to receive bricks with sharp edges. At high velocity, of course.


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