Greetings fellow blogosphere citizens,
I do believe it has been an extended period since I last posted, but that shall be remedied today.
For those of you who actually enjoy learning about authors, I recently graduated college and wedded the most beautiful woman in the world. (Yes, I know some of you might disagree, but I have several convincing arguments should you choose to debate, along with an overwhelming bias that comes with marriage.)
I have a feeling some have received during their lifetimes a very confused sense of the word "gentleman" due to the modern culture and the way he is portrayed in the media. Generally, most portrayals of the gentleman, whether modern or ancient, show him to be an incompetent fool who hopelessly clings to traditions of the past, his personality is one of aloofness, his body and mind both soft from ill use, and over all a foppish, floppy, lack-witted oaf that has no business wearing a suit. I resent this description because it does not even take into account the word itself.
Gentleness itself has also taken a hit as of late, but a professor pointed me in the right direction of understanding this word. Take this example, for instance.
You are standing in front of a fence looking into a wide open field where horses are kept. From where you stand, you see two horses. One lies on the ground, sick and dying. The horse can hardly move, its muscles having deteriorated from the prolonged disease. Would you look at that horse and say, "Oh, what a gentle horse?" More than likely, you would say, "Oh dear, what a sickly horse, has anyone done anything to help it?" Now, remember the other horse, it is a clydesdale - you know one of those horses you hardly come up to its shoulder it's so big. The horse's muscles are so defined you can see them ripple as it walks around. The owner of the field brings his daughter up to the horse and picks her up so that she can pet its head. This powerful horse, instead of crushing them with one deft movement of its leg, lowers its head to tenderly meet the small girl's touch. Now, with this animal you say "Wow, what a gentle horse!"
Gentleness is not weakness, but rather power under control. Men are called to be strong, not all of us need be overly muscled, but there is an inner strength that does come with being a man. The true gentleman has strength about him, but covers it with an air of gentleness in order to better care for those around him, especially around the elderly, women, children and the sick, which is where being a gentleman most matters. To be a gentleman requires a desire to care for and love those who have need of another's strength.
Now that has been straightened out, on to another epiphany I received recently.
Philosophically, I have met two different types of women in this world. I realized this after playing video games (which in moderation can help to relax the modern gentleman, like any other activity, hunting, sports, reading, etc..) In my recent escapades, the adventures allow one to choose his or her own love interest during the game and develop a relationship with that person. This artificial romance does not offer the same fulfillment of a real relationship, but it does give some telling generalizations of how women and men are perceived.
Women in these games are generally put into one of two categories based on their personality and approach to relationships: the "I dare you go love me" or the "You couldn't possibly love me." Though they sound similar, one is generally more confrontational and aggressive while the other tends toward self-pitying solitude. Both have something in common, neither feels capable of securing another's love and feels compelled to make sure of someone else's loyalty by meeting certain criteria.
The "I dare you to love me" women generally act agressively, actively putting off anyone willing to take a shot at a deeper relationship. Tough-girl acts, harsh words, put downs and other tactics force the other person to navigate a veritable jungle of emotions before reaching the core of the woman in question. There is nothing wrong with these women, but generally they seem to have had difficulty in the past with relationships and simply do not want to receive another wound to their heart. They guard their heart fiercely, and so you must pursue them fiercely, with a good amount of gentleness, too. (Remember men, we are trying to resurrect the old ways.)
The other group, the "You couldn't possibly love me" are also guarding their hearts, either because of past experience or they are simply new to the dance of courtship. They seek constant affirmation of your love and loyalty, not because they are suspicious, but because they need the security of your renewed confession of love and loyalty. I have met many of these lovely women in my life and can attest that they do not mean to pester or bother with their questions. They simply seek a security in your love that they desire deeply. These women require healthy doses of gentleness and simple actions to show them your devotion - not necessarily ostentacious, extravagent gifts or plans, but simple words and actions to soothe their fears.
If you have seen another general pattern in female behavior similar to these, I would like to hear your thoughts.
May you have a wonderful day and may your pursuits be fruitful.
If any of you have any topics you would nlike to see covered, please add a comment and I will try to address them in a timely manner.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
The Romantic Gentleman and Eye Contact
Having mentioned my fiancee in the last post, I felt compelled to say something about the phenomena of romancing the lady of my dreams. (And let this be something of a check and balance for those of you guys who think you are too "modern" to respect a woman for who she is."
Watching a romance movie today seems like watching two people meet, have a one-night stand, and somehow manage to stay together for more than a week or so before falling into a marriage that neither saw coming to riotous laughter and applause. Now, I am one guy who is not afraid to enjoy a good "Rom-Com" as they are called today, with much twitching and shuddering from myself. For some of you, may I be the first to warn you that this image of a romance is NOTHING like the real thing.
To begin, romance did not always simply mean courting the girl, but rather meant an adventure with knights and heroes of old who went on quests, and happened to have something of a love interest along the way. Nowadays, when someone says "romance" we immediately think of a candlelit room with roses and a fancy, expensive meal (with possibly a white or red tablecloth and wine glasses filled with sparkling grape juice and extra cutlery... but those are merely trifling details of an overactive imagination.) How did developing a lasting, meaningful relationship deteriorate into the romantic comedy? Personally, I have no answer, but I could spend hours, which neither of us have, in order to explain my particular beliefs in the matter.
Romance is more than flowers and candles, although they do help on occasion. It is opening a door for a lady (this includes your car, fellows); looking into her eyes; listening to her conversation (no matter how mundane or emotional it may seem at the time, there will be a quiz later); remembering special dates (because they forget too, sometimes); and numerous other small details that encompass the courtship process.
So, for now, I shall expound on the foreign concept of eye contact. This seemingly insignificant task could increase or decrease your chances of success in any relationship, especially with a female. While, admittedly, the female form remains a beguiling thing of utmost beauty, every once in a while they do find themselves uncomfortable under the unwavering stare of a nearby male. A glance and smile, perhaps may get across the same point without undo gawking, and for goodness sake do not let your mouth hang open like some kind of primitive fish gasping for oxygen.
Eye contact tells her (or him, should you be speaking to a male) that you are concerned with what is being said and are present in that moment. Females, from what I have gathered, find it most fascinating and endearing when their man boasts the rare ability to tell her, in as creative words as he can, the shades and hues of her eyes and how lovely he finds them. (My fiancee's are a lovely Prussian blue with fire streaks of gray, sparkling with flecks of gold.) Now, this particular detailed description should be saved for later down the track of courting, otherwise you will seem overzealous and forward. Instead, when you find yourself in a courting situation, simply comment on the general colour of her eyes, and she will appreciate the compliment.
I will end this post with a caveat, the advice and suggestions given here do not necessarily imply the self-righteous man who has achieved perfection on this mortal coil. In fact, it is just the opposite, findings by an imperfect man written to instruct and save his fellow men from falling into the trap of vulgarity and commonplace. The Gentleman will always stand out from the common herd, for his virtue, manners, and honor. He may not be perfect, but he strives with all due effort toward his personal best.
Watching a romance movie today seems like watching two people meet, have a one-night stand, and somehow manage to stay together for more than a week or so before falling into a marriage that neither saw coming to riotous laughter and applause. Now, I am one guy who is not afraid to enjoy a good "Rom-Com" as they are called today, with much twitching and shuddering from myself. For some of you, may I be the first to warn you that this image of a romance is NOTHING like the real thing.
To begin, romance did not always simply mean courting the girl, but rather meant an adventure with knights and heroes of old who went on quests, and happened to have something of a love interest along the way. Nowadays, when someone says "romance" we immediately think of a candlelit room with roses and a fancy, expensive meal (with possibly a white or red tablecloth and wine glasses filled with sparkling grape juice and extra cutlery... but those are merely trifling details of an overactive imagination.) How did developing a lasting, meaningful relationship deteriorate into the romantic comedy? Personally, I have no answer, but I could spend hours, which neither of us have, in order to explain my particular beliefs in the matter.
Romance is more than flowers and candles, although they do help on occasion. It is opening a door for a lady (this includes your car, fellows); looking into her eyes; listening to her conversation (no matter how mundane or emotional it may seem at the time, there will be a quiz later); remembering special dates (because they forget too, sometimes); and numerous other small details that encompass the courtship process.
So, for now, I shall expound on the foreign concept of eye contact. This seemingly insignificant task could increase or decrease your chances of success in any relationship, especially with a female. While, admittedly, the female form remains a beguiling thing of utmost beauty, every once in a while they do find themselves uncomfortable under the unwavering stare of a nearby male. A glance and smile, perhaps may get across the same point without undo gawking, and for goodness sake do not let your mouth hang open like some kind of primitive fish gasping for oxygen.
Eye contact tells her (or him, should you be speaking to a male) that you are concerned with what is being said and are present in that moment. Females, from what I have gathered, find it most fascinating and endearing when their man boasts the rare ability to tell her, in as creative words as he can, the shades and hues of her eyes and how lovely he finds them. (My fiancee's are a lovely Prussian blue with fire streaks of gray, sparkling with flecks of gold.) Now, this particular detailed description should be saved for later down the track of courting, otherwise you will seem overzealous and forward. Instead, when you find yourself in a courting situation, simply comment on the general colour of her eyes, and she will appreciate the compliment.
I will end this post with a caveat, the advice and suggestions given here do not necessarily imply the self-righteous man who has achieved perfection on this mortal coil. In fact, it is just the opposite, findings by an imperfect man written to instruct and save his fellow men from falling into the trap of vulgarity and commonplace. The Gentleman will always stand out from the common herd, for his virtue, manners, and honor. He may not be perfect, but he strives with all due effort toward his personal best.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
The Title
In my last post, I indicated that I would, to put a pause on any undo worry on account of an unexplained title I have bestowed upon myself, explain the name of The_Anachronistic_Gentleman.
To be honest, in many aspects, this blog began as a whim at the instigation of my fiancee, which as a topic shall be covered quite thoroughly in another post - her loveliness of form and character being far too exquisite to fully divulge in the midst of a discussion. My inner child began to rant and rave saying, "She has a blog, I want one too!" And so, to quiet the beastly little blighter, I began this blog. So, on my whim, after spending several hours with Gulliver on the miniature island of Lilliput, my boredom caught hold and off I went, searching for a blog site to host my endeavor! And behold, before me, shining like a great light, lay the orange "B." I'm sure Constantine was much more glad to see the Cross in the sky than I this secondary letter, nonetheless, I found the ease with which a blog may be created.
Now, those of you who have done this before will remember your own... shall we say, dumbfoundedness when faced with the daunting task of choosing a screen name. Who in the world thought up this horrible torture device and why in the name of all that is literarily clever do we constantly have to find some witty moniker with which to label ourselves for posterity's sake? To be sure, there are some less-than-imaginative writers who feel that supporting their peculiarly belittling literature with names such as "EdWaRds_GiRl_14" gains them some credit with fellow unimaginative readers who have nothing better to do than play the proverbial troll to the bridge of blog posts.
When faced with a mountainous task such as this, some men step back, ponder the situation fully before placing their hands on the keyboard. Others, such as myself, will often find our fingers moving over the keyboard much more rapidly than we should like with a purpose born out of some subconscious desire to be heard. In this particular case my fingers stated their case and won. (For those of you worried about my own menatl health, please rest assured that my fingers do not always win this war and are often chided for their audacity and impatience.) My subconscious by way of my fingers did propose a title that, after thought, did make sense.
You see, I find myself an oddity, a rarity, a thing of mystery with which many people know not how to handle. Young men of such intent and purpose find themselves surrounded by, physically and in the current media, Yahoos of the greatest calibur... to put things nicely. (If you do not get the reference, please go read Swift... it might also help you to understand the style and aim of the author you are currently reading.) My fellow gentleman and I on this campus have formed somewhat of a loose fraternity of sorts, despairing our age's loss of decorum. We find ourselves much more at home in the coffeeshops and in the Victorian fashion than in today's loose-fitting, athletic society. (Perhaps this is a college phenomenon, but it still strikes me as odd that exercise clothing has become a real fashion option in today's society.) No, we do not actually sit around in Victorian Age costume in Starbucks bemoaning the sad state of the youth today... although that strikes me as a wonderfully humorous situation that could easily bring the stares and awkward gesturing and whispers of a typical Starbucks crowd.
And so, feeling somewhat out-of-place in today's society, I have adopted the title of "The Anachronistic Gentleman." The meaning of which comes across from a desire to find recognition for proper raising and education for myself and those who ascribe to this manner of thinking. I myself am not anachronistic, and do personally enjoy modern developments such as, but not limited to, computers, internet, air conditioning, cars and the like.
May you have a wonderfully refreshing weekend,
The Anachronistic Gentleman
To be honest, in many aspects, this blog began as a whim at the instigation of my fiancee, which as a topic shall be covered quite thoroughly in another post - her loveliness of form and character being far too exquisite to fully divulge in the midst of a discussion. My inner child began to rant and rave saying, "She has a blog, I want one too!" And so, to quiet the beastly little blighter, I began this blog. So, on my whim, after spending several hours with Gulliver on the miniature island of Lilliput, my boredom caught hold and off I went, searching for a blog site to host my endeavor! And behold, before me, shining like a great light, lay the orange "B." I'm sure Constantine was much more glad to see the Cross in the sky than I this secondary letter, nonetheless, I found the ease with which a blog may be created.
Now, those of you who have done this before will remember your own... shall we say, dumbfoundedness when faced with the daunting task of choosing a screen name. Who in the world thought up this horrible torture device and why in the name of all that is literarily clever do we constantly have to find some witty moniker with which to label ourselves for posterity's sake? To be sure, there are some less-than-imaginative writers who feel that supporting their peculiarly belittling literature with names such as "EdWaRds_GiRl_14" gains them some credit with fellow unimaginative readers who have nothing better to do than play the proverbial troll to the bridge of blog posts.
When faced with a mountainous task such as this, some men step back, ponder the situation fully before placing their hands on the keyboard. Others, such as myself, will often find our fingers moving over the keyboard much more rapidly than we should like with a purpose born out of some subconscious desire to be heard. In this particular case my fingers stated their case and won. (For those of you worried about my own menatl health, please rest assured that my fingers do not always win this war and are often chided for their audacity and impatience.) My subconscious by way of my fingers did propose a title that, after thought, did make sense.
You see, I find myself an oddity, a rarity, a thing of mystery with which many people know not how to handle. Young men of such intent and purpose find themselves surrounded by, physically and in the current media, Yahoos of the greatest calibur... to put things nicely. (If you do not get the reference, please go read Swift... it might also help you to understand the style and aim of the author you are currently reading.) My fellow gentleman and I on this campus have formed somewhat of a loose fraternity of sorts, despairing our age's loss of decorum. We find ourselves much more at home in the coffeeshops and in the Victorian fashion than in today's loose-fitting, athletic society. (Perhaps this is a college phenomenon, but it still strikes me as odd that exercise clothing has become a real fashion option in today's society.) No, we do not actually sit around in Victorian Age costume in Starbucks bemoaning the sad state of the youth today... although that strikes me as a wonderfully humorous situation that could easily bring the stares and awkward gesturing and whispers of a typical Starbucks crowd.
And so, feeling somewhat out-of-place in today's society, I have adopted the title of "The Anachronistic Gentleman." The meaning of which comes across from a desire to find recognition for proper raising and education for myself and those who ascribe to this manner of thinking. I myself am not anachronistic, and do personally enjoy modern developments such as, but not limited to, computers, internet, air conditioning, cars and the like.
May you have a wonderfully refreshing weekend,
The Anachronistic Gentleman
Monday, February 21, 2011
And so it begins...
Eh, for an uninteresting title, which is somewhat cliche, I believe I should make up for it here in this first post... and yet, seeing as it's late and I do have class on the morrow, I should probably make things short and sweet.
I would like to keep this particular venture from turning into some rant against the young men of my generation, and rather leave this space for more constructive comments on how things could be better.
If you haven't read the "About Me" section... I don't blame you, I usually don't waste much time on those either. Therefore, for you OCD friends out there who, regardless of how long this thing turns out to be, decide you want to start from the beginning, look no further - you are here.
My life ends up being on long joke in which I find myself the butt of, or, rather, I see it that way because it makes dealing with... difficult people easier.
So here 'goes:
A Southern gentleman used to be something of a respectable title. Nowadays, I hold open doors and am treated like a footman hired for the job. I guess our "specializationist" culture has robbed the door holding gentlemen of the honor they once held. Yes, we were raised this way... well, some of us anyway. And no, those of you who read in voices, I do not have much of a Southern accent, so quit making me sound like a dork... more than I do already. Anyway, I stand convinced that most people do not appreciate a held-open door. Perhaps they assume I am judging them weak and helpless, but I have always seen it as a polite (yes I just used the "P" word) gesture. So what's so bad about that? Why do I get more funny looks than I do gestures of thankfulness?
I guess this rambling first post might scare some people off, but I shall do my best in subsequent posts to do a more thorough job. I believe I shall try to post on Mondays and Fridays... mainly because that seems most convenient at the moment.
May your mid-week be blessed with productivity, rest, and a little craziness.
Sincerely yours,
The Anachronistic Gentleman (I shall explain the moniker on Friday)
I would like to keep this particular venture from turning into some rant against the young men of my generation, and rather leave this space for more constructive comments on how things could be better.
If you haven't read the "About Me" section... I don't blame you, I usually don't waste much time on those either. Therefore, for you OCD friends out there who, regardless of how long this thing turns out to be, decide you want to start from the beginning, look no further - you are here.
My life ends up being on long joke in which I find myself the butt of, or, rather, I see it that way because it makes dealing with... difficult people easier.
So here 'goes:
A Southern gentleman used to be something of a respectable title. Nowadays, I hold open doors and am treated like a footman hired for the job. I guess our "specializationist" culture has robbed the door holding gentlemen of the honor they once held. Yes, we were raised this way... well, some of us anyway. And no, those of you who read in voices, I do not have much of a Southern accent, so quit making me sound like a dork... more than I do already. Anyway, I stand convinced that most people do not appreciate a held-open door. Perhaps they assume I am judging them weak and helpless, but I have always seen it as a polite (yes I just used the "P" word) gesture. So what's so bad about that? Why do I get more funny looks than I do gestures of thankfulness?
I guess this rambling first post might scare some people off, but I shall do my best in subsequent posts to do a more thorough job. I believe I shall try to post on Mondays and Fridays... mainly because that seems most convenient at the moment.
May your mid-week be blessed with productivity, rest, and a little craziness.
Sincerely yours,
The Anachronistic Gentleman (I shall explain the moniker on Friday)
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