A Comparison Between The Bachelor and Televised Sports

I think that for a woman, the experience of watching The Bachelor might be similar to a man’s experience watching televised sports. I’ve been watching televised sports; they’re beautiful. The lush green pitch, finely toned calves, glistening spandex pants, broad shoulder pads, fluid ball movement, team together somehow acting as::: one : MIND, pace pace and slam dunk, freeze rage, and replay slo-mo replay. But while, for me, the athletes are major-league attractive, I imagine men identify with them more. I figure they must, otherwise staring at beautiful men getting physical with one another wouldn’t be the hallmark of heterosexuality.

Now The Bachelor, let’s be honest, is also a competition. The contestants want to find love sure, but damn it, what they’d really like to be are winners – I project. During Bachelor season we (my roommates and Kristina and Dani and probably some other people) see the highlighted pays: the triumphs, miseries, and extremes. We identify. We think, I could be in that game if I had a better body. We root for specific girls; we have rivals. Tenley is from Oregon so is technically our home team.

The object in play instead of being a ball has balls. Trivial distinction.

And in the end, the prize is a little gold ring instead of a big gold trophy, but it’s the same thing. The losers cry and the winners cry... if the Bachelor has a half-time show I can’t think of what it is. The difference is when the winner of the Bachelor cries we call it love. That “love” is mistaken victory; it’s hard work that has finally paid off. In the off-season players get traded, the Bachelor changes his mind or the winner gets a better contract. And we at home are not surprised and look forward to next season.

We're Wizards and We're Bored

I was watching Harry Potter 6 the other day. I’ve spent a lot of time on the couch for the past two weeks, and flying around on broomsticks, nothing but the most romantic lighting, and having a dark lord to fight looked pretty appealing. Escapism, folks: Narnia, Middle Earth, and whatever other book or TV series that makes you bummed you live in the real world. How is it that authors can create worlds that are so much more compelling than the one their readers live in? It seems like the realness – the fact that it is there – should outweigh the fantasy that glows two-dimensionally on a piece of furniture.

I listened to a Louis CK recently. Check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-LkusicUL2s. Plus, people and information are available to me through the Internet. It’s like some sort of legendary spring of knowledge, but I frequent only two sites and get bored.

We Westovarians put together a Life board game. We included all the typical events in life after graduation: unemployment, weight gain, marriage, winning the lottery, etc. You hit certain squares based on a dice roll. The random and deterministic qualities were bleak – and satisfying due to our post-grad fashionable jadedness. It was a little uncomfortable how easily we could map out the big events in a middle-class American’s life. Deterministic, impersonal, and bullshit. It was tough to whip out our senses of adventure.

But one square said, “Make an omelet.” I get to make breakfast almost every day for the rest of my life.

If we all lived in Harry Potter land – we’d transfigure instead of problem solve, wear robes instead of jeans, and escape from Basilisks instead of going grocery shopping – would we be excited and entertained all the time? I can’t imagine what it would be like if we were. Ron says to Harry for chapters at a time, “Holy bloody smokes Harry, we’re wizards.”

Holy bloody smokes.

Vulgar Language

A friend of mine was telling me about her new job, “I’m the only one in the office who is a Christian. But I think I’ll like working there.” I asked her how she knew she was the only Christian. Religious census on her first day of work? A round of heart-to-hearts?

“Well, the rest of them swear and stuff.” She said.

Over these last two years I’ve started swearing recreationally and when it’s appropriate, and I’m a Christian. So I have a vested interest in my research on the morality of swear words; I’d like to keep using them and be doing the right thing. I searched for the Bible verses the anti-swearing sector (ASS) use to discourage Christians from swearing (cussing, cursing, etc.). The article “Christian Cursing” at biblebelievers.com lists verses in Matthew and Titus. The Matthew one was especially compelling to me:

"But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment. For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned." (Mat. 12:36-37)

You could call this the writer’s commandment. Writers respect words and language. Good ones make their words do work and carry meaning; idle words have no place.

Biblebelievers.com and some other ASS sites warn against “falling into the language of the world,” and I wonder if words will justify us based on their content or form.

The infamous round of four-letter words in the English language have landed on the list of profanity because in 1066 they were vulgar. Vulgar meaning common. The Norman conquest of England meant the ruling classes spoke French while the lower classes spoke Anglo-Saxon (sometimes called Old English). [Note: villain is similar to vulgar in that its negative meaning derives from social connotations rather than moral ones. Ville, in French, means city. Villain is a city dweller.]

The presences of Anglo-Saxon and French existing together explain the word variety in modern English. French words in law, government, religion, and high culture took the place of the A.S. equivalents. Words for live animals that the peasants worked with have A.S. origins: cow, pig, deer, etc. Their cooked counter parts have French origins: beef, pork, bacon, venison, etc.

Shit, bitch, ass, and hell (among others) also have A.S. origins. The people who spoke these words were probably from the lower classes.

David Foster Wallace talks about, among other things, sub-dialects in his article Authority and American Usage, “There are innumerable sub- and subsubdialects based on all sorts of things that have nothing to do with locale or ethnicity — Medical-School English, Peorians-Who-Follow-Pro-Wrestling-Closely English, Twelve-Year-Old-Males-Whose-Worldview-Is-Deeply-Informed-By-South-Park English — and that are nearly incomprehensible to anyone who isn't inside their very tight and specific Discourse Community (which of course is part of their function).” The way (or ways) we talk is determined by the groups we are a part of and determines the groups we will be able to join in the future. Not ever swearing is a church-goers shibboleth, at least in general. That’s why my friend assumed her coworkers were not Christians; it wasn’t because swearing is a sin and Christians don’t sin. The pop-Christian community goes from being wary of shit to believing all shit is bullshit and will damn you to hell. A Christian sub-dialect is fine.

But it is limited.

Speaking only pop-C sub-dialect makes it harder to make friends outside this group. I wonder if this is why some parents ban swear words – not so much because swearing itself is bad, but because they don’t want their children to associate with the wrong kind of people. With a limited number of sub-dialects, kids can’t associate with any crowds but their own. It seems to me that Jesus lived with more concern for the out-groups, the ability to meet with anyone, and inclusion than for vocabulary. Just saying.