Thursday, December 9, 2010

Final blog

"So long as this object which he calls his life or soul remains unharmed, the man is well; if it is injured, he suffers; if it is destroyed, he dies. Or, to put it otherwise, when a man is ill or dies, the fact is explained by saying that the material object called his life or soul whether it be in his body or out of it, has either sustained injury or been destroyed." (pg. 801, The Golden Bough)

        I admit I haven't blogged as much as I should have, but I am still new to the whole thing so keeping on top of it has been somewhat of a chore. Anyway as I was driving back from Missoula today I was thinking about what I could blog on before midnight to top off this thing. Since my business in Missoula had to do with my nose, which came on the same night as my black eye I guess I should tell that mythological tale. It is kinda along the lines of David and Goliath, minus all the religious hullabaloo. Unfortunately for me, in this story I am Goliath and I got my nose broken and a black eye from a kid about 5 inches shorter than me. Quite embarrassing to tell in front of a class of people my age. So this mythological story of mine has been going on for the past two months since my birthday.
    On the night of my birthday I was given a bottle of Whiskey by my roommate, which I consumed in about 4 hours and lost all track of time and space. In my daze my friends and I ended up at a friends house for a party. Sometime later into the haziness I had brought upon myself I was confronted by another person and called a pussy. I didn't take kindly to this and dragged him outside. At one point I had forgotten we were going to fight when my roommate egged me on and I hit him, which was a mistake because I was having trouble standing while all this was happening. Anyway, I say it was like David and Goliath because his freinds were his army and my roommates and friends were my army, I was bigger than him and I lost. Unfortunately in this story I am also the perpetrator and the bad guy. Those are all the connections I can draw. So now the story continues, with me trying to get my nose fixed. As of now I am one week out from surgery. But in this time I have seen about four doctors and traveled to Missoula and back about as many times. And what has this mythological quest taught me? Dont be a drunk asshole and provoke unwarranted fights with kids who are shorter (or taller, or skinnier, and since I'm on the subject just everyone in general) and more sober than myself.
          The quote from the Golden Bough at the top just seemed appropriate to this story. Apparently something close to me that I consider my soul was harmed and so I was injured that night on my birthday. Lucky me.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Final Paper

                                  Cultural aspects of Henderson and the Rain King
   
               I want. This is the a big idea in Henderson and the Rain King.  Living in American culture, a culture of consumption, “I want” is a common voice in all of us. We want a new car, new clothes, new this new that. Is the voice Henderson hears that of American society? The difference between Henderson and the rest of us is when we want something we learn at a young age we can’t always have it; Henderson however is a man of wealth, so he never learned that he couldn’t have it. So while we can tune out the voice that nags “I want” when we see the Ferrari 599 GTO in Maxim, Henderson can go ahead and get it. Because of this Henderson mistakes this voice saying I want as wanting more material goods and accomplishments. Henderson gives the voice what he thinks it wants. But, as we see, the voice really wants reality. The voice may be his soul or as some call it his ego. What does Henderson’s soul want so bad that he has to travel to Africa; which has some of the most remote areas in the world, to find answers. Henderson writes to Lily, “I want to tell you that I owe Charlie a lot. Without him I might have gone to the Arctic instead, among the Eskimos. This experience in Africa has been tremendous. It has been tough, it has been perilous, it has been something! But I’ve matured twenty years in twenty days” (pg. 282, Bellow). He could have gone anywhere in the world, but getting away from American culture to answer his souls demand for reality is exactly what Africa is the cure for.
    The most interesting thing about Henderson was his belief in truth and reality. He lectures his own son in his own fondly held belief that truth is the most important thing, “’What do I fight for? Hell for the truth. Yes, that’s it, the truth. Against falsehood. But most of the fighting is against myself’” (pg. 124) There is an internal struggle for what the truth actually is within Henderson. He lives in a constant struggle for it, and has the resources to live in a world that he is free to create.
    The truth is a tricky subject to pinpoint. Who has the truth to all the answers? Where does someone find out the truth to things? There is no one resource for the truth. Some people may turn to the Bible for answers, some may turn to history, and the resources are bountiful.  Henderson starts his search for truth in his father’s library. His search led him through many books and one passage he found important, “But privately when things got very bad I often looked into books to see whether I could find some helpful words, and one day I read, ‘The forgiveness of sins is perpetual and righteousness first is not required’” (pg 1). Henderson is moved by this, but loses it in the mountainous mass of books his father owned. In his search for this bit of answer to the truth all he found was money as a response. His souls question couldn’t be answered within books.
    To find the answers to reality Henderson would have to face reality and get away from American culture. Africa seems to him to be the most backward place in the world. It’s filled with savages and primitives. But in fact those so called primitives and savages have as much of a complicated world as Americans. Henderson soon finds this out when he travels to Africa and ends up among the Arnewi. He finds their way of life strange. Their culture is different than his. They don’t eat their cattle and when they do they cry for them. He finds the wrestling tradition strange as well. But this is what Henderson soul needs for its need for reality. To experience a culture that isn’t about consumption and greed. Henderson’s wealth is no good in this part of the world. The Arnewi and their cattle are dying of thirst because they can’t drink their water. Henderson hears the voice again nagging him. He sees himself as the American savior. He schemes to clear the water of its infestation by literally blowing it out of the water. Still being in the muddle of his transformation to reality, Henderson still doesn’t see outside of his own world. Clearly the Arnewi had been there for decades and had a sustainable way of life. They didn’t need a hero. Henderson heard I want not because it begged him to be a hero but because it begged him to see reality. Since Henderson misunderstands his souls request he ends up destroying the Arnewi’s water supply and moves on.
    Moving farther into Africa, Henderson’s quest for reality truly begins when he meets Dahfu of the Wariri. Henderson hears the voice again during the celebration. He believes it to beg him to move the Mountain Goddess. But it seems to be it may have been begging him to see reality, that these people didn’t need him, that they were fine without him. But Henderson moves the Goddess and becomes the Sungo, his quest for the truth in Africa truly begins. “’All right, then, this is it: will you expect the truth from me? That’s my only hope. Without it everything else might as go bust.’ He began to smile. ‘Why, how could I refuse you this? I am glad Henderson-Sungo, but you must let me make the same request otherwise it will be worthless if not mutual. But how do you have expectation as to the form the truth is to take? Are you prepared if it comes in another shape, unanticipated?’” (pg 212). At the time of this conversation Henderson doesn’t heed this final sentence from the King, he is to infatuated with his agreement between himself and the King.
    At this point Henderson is still an American with American ideals that come from American culture. At this point he is oversaturated with African culture, which is exactly as he needs. African tribes don’t have the capitalist mentality that Henderson has grown up with. They aren’t obsessed with acquiring more things because everyone owns everything within the tribe. This is exactly what Henderson needs to figure out what his voice truly wants. He needs to see that life isn’t about acquisition and reality isn’t all about acquiring.
    Henderson and Dahfu use each other in their own personal quests for the truth. Dahfu seems to be in search of something as much as Henderson is. He knows he is in a position where he is going to die at the hands of the Bunam someday. While Henderson is making his transformation into a lion he has a startling revelation about himself. He is a pig. “Had the creatures become a part of me? I hesitated to come clean with Dahfu and to ask him right out bluntly whether he could see their influence” (pg 270). He is soon answered by Dahfu’s belief that humans can do and become anything they imagine.
    After Dahfu’s death and Henderson and Romilayu are trapped in their chamber, Henderson finally comes to the realization that his soul is tired of his messed up reality he had built up around him. The truth did come in an unanticipated shape as the king had predicted, it came in the form of the kings own death for Henderson to realize that life is short and that he should take time to notice the world around him. His only true friend in the world was dead and they had both broken their deal to eachother. The king hadn’t told Henderson the true reason for him becoming Sungo and Henderson hadn’t opened up to Dahfu. “I wish I could have opened my heart entirely to that poor guy” (pg 318). With his newfound view of the world Henderson makes the most of his trip home. He is no longer the man whose soul is begging for reality. Henderson finally knows what the truth is. Civilized society, books, or anything else from his own world, American culture, couldn’t solve his problems. Only a so called “savaged” society could provide the answer his soul demanded.    
    I don’t believe what Henderson wrote Lilly was right at all. The only thing Charlie did for him was get him away from American ideals. Africa wasn’t the answer to his problems. It may have been where he ended up and it helped, but any small scale society where material wealth wasn’t the focus of their culture would have helped cure Henderson of his Americanization. By being oversaturated within another culture, Henderson could begin his metamorphosis from a pompous, greedy American into a person who sees the reality of the world.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Went out and had a bad day

"The story of Pygmalion points to a ceremony of a sacred marriage in which the king wedded the image of Aphrodite, or rather of Astarte." Pg. 401

              This quote has nothing to do with my bad day but it does have to do with class on Tuesday I believe so it connects somehow. Anyway my bad day happened recently. Friday in fact. Friday was my birthday and so naturally I, along with some friends, decided to celebrate. So I guess this day could be considered a good day and a bad day all in one. I'm killing two birds with one stone here. So my birthday was awesome, I hung out with some friends and went out to dinner. Around Eight or Nine we decided to go to a friends house to continue with the festivities. Star swipe to four hours later and I've had a few to many. I think I hear someone say something to me I don't like, and I decide to do something about it. Later I learned that he wasn't talking to me i guess. Anyway I got in a fight on my birthday and no have a black eye to show for it. But I am happy to say I did as was asked and went out and had a bad day.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Chapter 2, 5 sentences

The Raven: Should have known when to shut up and maybe ravens would still be white.

Coronis, The Raven, The Crow, Nyctimene: If Apollo wasn't so quickly enraged maybe the Raven and the Crow would still be in the ranks of the white birds.

Battus: Mercury cheated his agreement by tricking the old man

Callisto: The Gods are very unfair in who they punish for what other Gods have done

Ocyrhoe: Its sad that she has such a great gift but is punished for her accomplishment of learning it.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Chapter 1 and 5 sentences

The Four Ages: Even though the Iron Age has is the worst of all, I'd rather live in it than the Golden Age with  everything being provided and no work being done it sounds that it would be boring.


The Flood: Jove stopped hurling thunderbolts in fear of lighting the sky on fire, when humankind set off the first H-bomb there was a fear it may light the sky on fire, they did it anyway; is humankind now braver than the gods?

Deucalion & Pyrrha: Had Deucalion not figured out the true meaning to the Oracle's words, what would the fate of humans been?

Python: Phoebus was pretty egoistical to create sacred games in honor of his own deeds.

Syrinx: What did Pan say to Syrinx that made her run?
 

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Tree Huggin


I took this picture way back in high school. Who would've thought someday I'd need a picture of me hugging a tree.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Finally gettin my act together

"On his head he had hair as hard as a copper wire, and with this wire his life was bound up. So the hair was plucked out, and with it his spirit fled." (James Frazer, pg 812)

  I have to admit I have been slacking in this class. I have never blogged before and the idea just seemed like a lot of work. But after seeing some of your blogs on childhood memories I had to post my own. When I was in kindergarten, so I guess I was about five, I was riding my badass new bike around my neighborhood. About half a mile from my house there was a giant dirt hill, so my friend and I decided to make a jump and rally down the hill. Up until this point all my bike had brakes where you turn the pedals backwards, my new one had handle brakes. I did not know this. So the last thing I remember is going full bore towards a parked car. Seven hours later I wake up in the hospital with no recollection of how I got there or what happened. To this day I'm not sure how I got to the hospital. An even deeper thought is did I actually wake up or is this one big creation of my own mind. But anyway I didn't die from hitting my head off a car because my parents were smart enough to buy me a helmet, but cheap enough to get one made of Styrofoam. What kind of parents buy their five year old a helmet made of this crappy material I don't know, its only good for one hit. Awesome my first blog ever. Today has been a success.