It has been my belief that the point of analysis should be to dissect incoming information for appropriate intake, and to decipher the intentions of the author. Deciphering the intentions of the author regardless of whether we are reading a book, or simply reading life outside of the printed pages. In critiquing elements, I have found it useful to know the boundary where my pettiness meets my more magnanimous circuitry of discernment. This is done to keep my cerebral chopping block from overflowing with the carcasses of semantic disputes, syntactical indiscretions, and overly personal vilification. As the pendulum of time swings its seconds into hours, I do find certain nuances of our culture worthy of a healthy slicing.
As I walk through various portals of the web, and carry on silent discussions with those who provide content for it, I am often left amazed at what becomes popular among certain crowds. At the present ticking of the timepiece, the phrase “wedding” is being hurled to and fro across the digital sands like a volleyball. To no shock to any of the locals of this Asylum, the silent refrain of this observing Owl has cost a pretty penny in the coin of discipline. The mercy of the more humbled gods allowed me to cognitively transport to a post by our brother of the skyline, @Ahbseenkwestion, over on his website, True Indeed. The lights flickered, the sky’s roared, and the battle of packaged concepts began. In this corner, the quick and agile, “wedding”, in the other, the massive and long-winded, “marriage”.
Now, the post itself wasn’t a discourse on either of the two fore mentioned terms. In fact, it was about the celebration of his child ciphering through a solar calendar. It was the smiles that I judged as authentic that reached into the more tropical zones of my emotional sphere moving me into this discourse. Of course, I could be challenged on the smiles being authentic, I could also be challenged on the softness of Janet Jackson’s left breast, but as breasts go, I would presume from a cursory glance(or an extremely officious email to a one Mr. Dupri) that Janet’s left breast is of a desirable firmness. The point is: the brother, his wife, and his child looked different than most images we are given of the Black family.
Due to that one particular image, the thought vibrated through my recesses and possibly magnetized some one to ask me later on that night would I ever consider changing my last name upon marriage. My most distant memories of my self contain electromagnetic footage(without the need of a Flash player upgrade, mind you) of dissent on just about every social convention. Now, the argument on the table with regards to my personal achievements is that I have indeed followed the conventional route, which is strange indeed, or simply lacking in information, but it turns out in undergrad, I was referred to as an “unconventional student.” So, when the question arose, I badgered it with my understanding of traditional performances, and ritual, and then I caressed it with my disdain for legal policy that tends to be less for the protection of the people, more for the cashier’s drawer at________(Governmental Agency).
Being a dialogue with someone who has her heart on lay-a-way for the traditional wedding, I smiled like the Cheshire cat in Alice Through The Looking Glass when she addressed the situation as one that requires more consideration for the after wedding, than the wedding itself. A lofty consideration? Given the popularity of the term “wedding” in the space in time between three months ago and now, I’d be willing to offer my most sincerest tolerances. Yet, I also thought of that young Lord sitting on a proud father’s lap while the arm of his companion gracefully draped his shoulders. I thought of the trials and tribulations that that couple might have had to endure to remain in good standings with the oath they gave. I thought of difficulties attached to one making their word their bond in such a state of affairs. Or a state of no affairs, I suppose the Media Analyst Owl could have written there.
In a point and click, or hover and click society such as the United States of America, a practice such as a wedding seems so appropriate as a solution for all that ills us. And yet, it is the marriage that I am unable to take my piercing stare away from. Of course, I am one that has been deemed a neurotic on a few occasions, and my bad nerves simply can’t avoid staring at one-thousand pound gorillas no matter where they appear in the room. The process, and thus journey, of staying committed to one person can truly be allusive to the seasonal shopper, the drive-thru connoisseur, or even the five hundred word essayist(Tell me I don’t wear self-disparagement better than Farrakhan wears his suits…).
After the joyous gatherings, the cigar smoke, and the stripper with cheap perfume have all been ordered(and odored) out, after the seventeenth round of naked bed wrestling has commenced and concluded, there is still a life long contract still wet from ink laying on a desk somewhere. Of a magnitude higher than HAARP’s earthquakes, is the bond between these two people. Beyond the paper work are two individuals who consider the business of family building a more important task than that of parading expensive garments and catering to loan sharks for trips to the Southern beaches of France(actually, that’s what I’m in it for…jokes, guys, jokes).
Western psychology pines the human as a being fraught with an insatiable desire for novelty. A desire to be satisfied more with dissatisfaction of past things, and a taste for that which is to come, or just another Blu mixtape. I am not a married man, I do honor and support the institution. Above the law and tradition, I respect the practice of being a couple but being one(how often does a math student get to prove that one plus one can indeed equal one?), in the face of diverse faces, and even more diverse challenges. There is nothing about marriage that makes me think it is an easy choice, especially in a monogamously defined relationship.
There’s a concept: relationship. One that is sealed by more than empty condom wrappers and dry throats. I can appreciate that. I can only assume(alright, yeah, the self-disparagement there tickled me too..), that a couple would need a certain trust, a certain friendship, a certain degree of responsibility on both parties to maintain and manage an endeavor such a that. But, isn’t that the basic standard of entering a committed intimate relationship with someone? The insight I was blessed to gain from last night’s discussion in paraphrase: A relationship should already be emotionally and financially stable to an acceptable degree, a public marriage should only be a formality.
I think I’ve typed enough on this topic at present. We will continue at another time…