doom.

I've been slacking. lets just say my heart hasn't been into it. mostly been going out and taking pictures:




























...i can say that all these pictures of the cold, warm me. :P

im drunk, and spent. you bishes are on your own.

its xbox-live-wednesdays! you get nothin bishes!
cept these awful links:

just so i can say i didn't diverge,




my very first love:


in case you don't know what one is:


and on a more serious note:

little known fact about me:

first valentine ever given. to a girl.
her name was danielle, we were in the third grade. i made it the night before and spilled cologne on it, like i saw in the old old spice commercials on tv. the cologne made it so i couldn't close the envelope and my mother could not find the regular tape. we used black electrical tape.

shit you not.
1st one.

song of the day:
in dreams, by roy orbison.

A candy-colored clown they call the sandman
Tiptoes to my room every night
Just to sprinkle stardust and to whisper
Go to sleep. everything is all right.

I close my eyes, then I drift away
Into the magic night. I softly say
A silent prayerlike dreamers do.
Then I fall asleep to dream my dreams of you.

In dreams I walk with you. in dreams I talk to you.
In dreams youre mine. all of the time were together
In dreams, in dreams.

But just before the dawn, I awake and find you gone.
I can't help it, I can't help it, if I cry.
I remember that you said goodbye.

Its too bad that all these things, can only happen in my dreams
Only in dreams in beautiful dreams.

okay, so what if i got a little off track with the origins or romantic love?! today i plan on getting back to task by working through the mystery as to what started my most hated day.

the athens month of Gamelion (what would be between our current calandars mid-january to mid-february) held the celebration of Lupercalia. Mestrius Plutarchus, a greek historian (rome, 4th century b.c.) has written this of the holiday in one of his Parallel Lives works (re: julius cesear):

"...There was added to these causes of offense his insult to the tribunes. It was, namely, the festival of the Lupercalia, of which many write that it was anciently celebrated by shepherds, and has also some connection with the Arcadian Lycaea. At this time many of the noble youths and of the magistrates run up and down through the city naked, for sport and laughter striking those they meet with shaggy thongs. And many women of rank also purposely get in their way, and like children at school present their hands to be struck, believing that the pregnant will thus be helped to an it is delivery, and the barren to pregnancy..."



the Christian account of said holiday seems rather different, however. instead of a rite of fertility, it was more of a marriage lotto:

"...The names of the teenage women were placed in a box and drawn at random by adolescent men; thus, a man was assigned a woman companion for the duration of the year, after which another lottery was staged. After eight hundred years of this cruel practice, the early church fathers sought to end this practice... They found an answer in Valentine, a bishop who had been martyred some two hundred years earlier..."

one of several valentines to be sainted for his loyalty to the church and beliefs, this particular valentine was martyred for his resolve against an edict made by Roman Emperor Claudius-II banning marriage among the young men of rome. valentine considered it vain egotistical political maneuvering and married lovers in secret during these times, bestowing upon them the "sacrament of matrimony".

when claudius recieved news of this, he had valentine arrested. impressed with his dignity, conviction, and serenity; claudius attempted to convert him to follow the roman gods, and thus saving him from execution. instead, valentine in turn attempted to convert him to christianity. this did not go over so well. he was sentenced to death, and put away.

while awaiting his end, he fell in love with the jailors (asterius) blind daughter. apparently, he healed her of blindness (miracles being one of the requirements to be sainted). afterwards he wrote her a goodbye love-letter, thought and said to be the first valentine, before being put to death.

as with most martyrs and rome, the story was later sublimated into popular roman culture as christianity rose- replacing Lupercalia on the very same day, trading the marriage lotto to more of a single serv-pot-luck.



Song of the Day:
Paper Bag, by Miss Apple:

I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star
To pray on, or wish on, or something like that
I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy
Whose reality I knew, was a hopeless to be had
But then the dove of hope began its downward slope
And I believed for a moment that my chances
Were approaching to be grabbed
But as it came down near, so did a weary tear
I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag
Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love
And I went crazy again today, looking for a strand to climb
Looking for a little hope
Baby said he couldn't stay, wouldn't put his lips to mine,
And a fail to kiss is a fail to cope
I said, 'Honey, I don't feel so good, don't feel justified
Come on put a little love here in my void,' he said
'It's all in your head,' and I said, 'So's everything'
But he didn't get it I thought he was a man
But he was just a little boy
Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love
Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love

i don't have a lot of time today, but i feel bad for slacking last night...

i found Andreas Capellanuses explanation of love humorous, so i will post that today, for your amusement. Ill get back to the lengthy diatribes tomorrow when i have more free time to myself. i figure this little quote would be found true among most of us who are single, at this point. maybe even to those who are in relationships but can still manage to remember:

Chapter 1. What Love Is
Love is a certain inborn suffering derived from the sight of and excessive meditation upon the beauty of the opposite sex, which causes each one to wish above all things the embraces of the other and by common desire to carry out all of love's precepts in the others embrace.
That love is suffering is easy to see, for before the love becomes equally balanced on both sides there is no torment greater, since the lover is always in fear that his love may not gain its desire and that he is wasting his efforts. he fears, too, that rumors of it may get abroad, and he fears everything that might harm it in any way, for before things are perfected a slight disturbance often spoils them. if he is a poor man, he also fears that the woman may scorn his poverty; if he is ugly, he fears that she may despise his lack of beauty or may give her love to a more handsome man; if he is rich, he fears that his parsimony in the past may stand in his way. to tell the truth, no one can number the fears of one single lover [an observation made by Ovid]. this kind of love, then, is a suffering which is felt by only one of the persons and may be called "single love". But even after both are in love the fears that arise are just as great, for each of the lovers fears that what he has acquired with so much effort may be lost through the effort of someone else, which is certainly much worse for a man than if, having no hope, he sees that his efforts are accomplishing nothing, for it is worse to lose the things you are seeking than to be deprived of a gian you merely hope for. the lover fears, too, that he may offend his loved one in some way; indeed he fears so many things that it would be difficult to tell them...



no song, for today. not enough time. i promise ill have a good one, tomorrow.

REVISION
i have found a song that fits the theme today
i miss the girl, by soul coughing:
Daughter to the pop veneer
Shining like a new mint
quarter
Shining like the Franklin Mint
Seedy like the
lampshade quarter
Rolling with the dopes you
know
Rolling with the wrong gun on you
Going down to
Baltimore
Going in an off-white Honda
Oh I miss the
girl, miss the girl, miss the girl
I want to give myself to
the water
Speeding to the rupture line
Rat-a-tatting
boombox moocher
Darling with the boop
shuh-nai
Rat-a-tatting lose your future

I dream
that she aims to be the bllom upon my misery

She rocks
the mop style, she needs the rest

And I know it's
not the same thing

This post was sent directly from a Nikon camera.

having a busy day, looking to be a busy night, so here is the song of the day:

lets pretend were bunny rabbits, another magnetic fields song:
If you knew how I long
For you now that you're gone
You'd grow wings and fly
Home to me
Home tonight
And in the morning sun

Let's pretend we're bunny rabbits
Let's do it all day long
Let abbots, Babbitts and Cabots
Say Mother Nature's wrong
And when we've had a couple'a'beers
We'll put on bunny suits
I long to nibble your ears
And do as bunnies do

Let's pretend we're bunny rabbits
Let's do it all day long
Rapidly becoming rabid
Singing little rabbit songs
I can keep it up all night
I can keep it up all day
Let's pretend we're bunny rabbits
Until we pass away

Let's pretend we're bunny rabbits
Until we pass away

in my previous post, i mentioned Eleanor of Aquitaine and her daughter Marie de Champagne. Here i will iterate upon their contributions to the rise of courtly love, the matriarch of our ideals of romantic love. Adding a new conspirator to the mix tonight, im pleased to introduce Andre the Chaplain (Andreas Cappellanus)...

In 1168, Eleanor of Aquitaine left the Court of Henry II (her husband). In Leaving, she sought the refuge of her ancestral lands, Poitou. Having the title of viceregent under her garter, she found no difficulties pursuing the role of ruling duchess, accepting all the roles that accompanied it. For forty years previous the district had fallen to the outskirts of events. Quickly she turned it around, placing it as a center for economic and social growth. This brought great success to her personal courts and many poets, philosophers, and the like were soon found within Poitiers.

Courtly love was no new concept at this point, however. Poetry with great devotion to a beloved had been flourishing in the Arab culture for many centuries previous. "Courts of Love" existed alongside the courts of law, queen and king residing over each, respectively. In these courts of love, suitors would come to the queen for advice in matters of the heart.

But it was the work of two people who brought about the rudiments of romantic love as we know it: Marie de Champagne (Eleanor's Daughter) and Andreas Cappellanus.



Marie had arrived at Poitiers to educate and train the young people at the palace. Apparently church life was not taking and the Poiteviens had not been accustomed to court life for many generations. The men had become boisterous jackasses and the women led isolated, tiresome lives. Religion was doing nothing to control these fools. She needed a subject to use as a vehicle to train them in etiquette.



Marie set one of her chaplains to work (Andreas) to write a guide, or handbook with codes of behavious concerning love. Ovid's Ars Amatoria (the art of loving) became his model. Ovid's work concerned the seduction, approach, conversing, and toying with a womans affections- to amuse the pursuer. Most likely at Maries request, he inversed this, however, and made the lady the 'mistress of the game'. he named it Liber de arte honeste amandi et reprobatione inhonesti amoris or, the lengthy titled 'Book of the Art of Loving Nobly and the Reprobation of Dishonourable Love'. In Ovids work, the emphasis is placed upon the love of the chase, whereas in Andreas liber, the pursued herself becomes the focus of passion.

Tomorrow I will expand upon the body of the work of Andreas Capellanus, and how he helped define what we have come to think of as romantic love.

our song of the day:
Meaningless, another by the magnetic fields.

Meaningless?
You mean it's all been meaningless?
Every whisper and caress?
Yes yes yes it was totally meaningless
Meaningless
like when two fireflies flouresce
Just like everything I guess
Less less yes, it was utterly meaningless
Even less
a little glimpse of nothingness
sucking meaning from the
rest of this mess
Yes yes yes it was thoroughly meaningless
and if some dim bulb should say
we were in love in some way
kick all his teeth in for me
and if you feel like keeping on kicking,
feel free
Meaningless
Who dare say it wasn't meaningless?
Shout from the rooftops
and address the press
Ha ha ha, it was totally meaningless
Meaningless
Meaning less than a game of chess
Just like your mother said
and mother knows best
I knew it all the time but now I confess
Yes yes yes how deliciously meaningless
Yes yes yes effervescently meaningless
Yes yes yes it was beautifully meaningless
Yes yes yes it was profoundly meaningless
Yes yes yes definatively meaningless
Yes yes yes comprehensively meaningless
Yes yes yes magnificently meaningless
Yes yes yes how incredibly meaningless
Yes yes yes unprecedentedly meaningless
Yes yes yes how mind-blowingly meaningless
Yes yes yes how unbelievably meaningless
Yes yes yes how infinitely meaningless