Being an A-Hole is Not a Good Thing

One night, while I was out at a bar with a group of colleagues, someone in our crowd started texting a man she was seeing.

Someone else in the group, who knew this woman better than I did, probed her about why she was talking to said man. It turned out he was married and she had found this out a few weeks earlier.

Her friend's rebuff made her defensive. She'd also had a few drinks so it wasn't a surprise that she snapped at him.

Her reply (I'm paraphrasing as I'd also had a few that night) was along the lines of:

'Yeah, I know he's an asshole but at least he's not a pushover.'

Something about this exchange has stuck with me since I overheard it two years ago. The woman in this story was not, in my experience, a bad person. She was very generous and actually helped me out during a sever depressive episode.

I don't think she's horrible. To me this sentiment 'It's better to be an asshole than...' is just a very sad reflection of modern culture.

We've somehow accepted that being a complete douche-nozzle to the people around you reflects strength. A-holeness is a virtue, something to strive for. Being the biggest middle finger to people you disagree with or don't get along with is a prized trait in romance, media and politics. We don't appreciate someone who can bridge divides or resolve problems. We adore the ego-maniacs who step on everyone around them as they climb the ladder.

There's a number of reasons why a man like Donald Trump has a very solid chance of being the leader of the most powerful nation on earth. And while I don't think his belligerent dickishness is the only cause of his rise, it's certainly a major part of it.

It's not a stretch for anyone listening to Trump or the people who adore him, that 'telling it like it is' equates to saying the most hateful things you can just to make the person on the other side angry and hurt.

Yet Trump is just the most prominent example of how much we value A-holes in our society. Reality shows abound with awful people doing awful things to each other. Some of the best fictional TV shows star narcissistic characters, who though enjoyable to watch, also do horrible things to others.

And I think that's why we love A-holes. They're entertaining and often very driven. I get the appeal of someone so outrageously full of themselves that they don't (appear) to care what other people think and go after their goals.

I doubt though, if push came to shove, any of us would say that we'd enjoy working for a boss like Trump or having a friend like Kanye West. Most people would also get pretty sick of a boyfriend of girlfriend sleeping around or breaking their promises to us.

That's because the A-holes biggest problem is that they rarely benefit others around them. They use people and discard them and very often their self-centerdness is not a sign of strength but an indication that they need to overcompensate for their insecurity.

Yet still too many people fall for their deceptions only to realize later how much they regretted wasting their time on someone who couldn't have cared less about them. 

No, the 'Bad Guys' Don't Always Win the Game of Thrones

One of the best aspects of Game of Thrones and the book series it's based on is how you never really know who could die.

Early on it was clear to both show fans and book readers that Martin's epic story wasn't going to follow the normal formulas we've come to expect from TV or fantasy novels.

Characters that would be the untouchable hero of any other story, not only lose their struggles but lose them hard.

The noble father, Ned Stark, gets decapitated. His hot blooded son Robb, an unmatched warrior, tries to avenge him. In the hands of a lesser author, the Young Wolf would get his justice. He would have hardships, he would face seemingly insurmountable odds, but he would win.

Not so in Westeros.

Instead, Robb's one-time allies turn on him. He, his mother and his army are slain at a wedding. His enemies triumph.

The 'good guys', those characters that act out of a sense of honor, altruism or who value the better angels of human nature, rarely seem to come out alive or on top in Martin's world. It's those self-interested characters willing or eager to kill, maim and betray anyone, that prevail.

Or so many fans believe.

I used to be in that camp. The camp of 'the worst characters always win'.

Now I think that's an oversimplification.

Yes, the characters we know and love (Ned, Robb, Jon, Tyrion) never seemed to truly get ahead.


They get shat on by the author but so do the characters we hate or love to hate.

The genius of the show and the books is not that the 'good guys' are doomed to fail simply because they do what they think is moral. It's that all the characters rise and fall based on the repercussions of their actions.

By the third book (and season) it seems that the Lannisters have won the Game of Thrones. The Machiavellian Tywin and his family have triumphed. Their rivals are dead or spent. They should be able to rest easy.

Yet just as they reach the height of their power, the Lannisters are brought low by the choices they've made.

King Joffrey's petulance and sadism gets him poisoned by The Queen of Thorns and Little Finger. Tywin, the seemingly unbeatable political juggernaut, is done in by the son who he mistreated for being a dwarf. Cersei, blinded by her fear of the Tyrells and her overconfidence, underestimates the High Sparrow and she is swept from power.

Then we have (maybe) the most hated families in the Seven Kingdoms: the Freys and the Boltons.

After murdering Robb and gaining the favor of the Lannisters, these two factions also seem to have made it. For almost three seasons (and two books) neither house seemed to face much in the way of justice for massacring so many.

Seeing Ramsay Bolton, possibly the most rabidly sadistic character ever created, continue to climb the ladder of success was especially infuriating.

Yet if the Starks' greatest weakness is their sense of nobility and honor, the Bolton's penchant for unrestrained fear and brutality is theirs.

The Red Wedding and Ramsay's bloody excesses, alienate the people the Bolton's are supposed to rule. In the show, Ramsay's abuse of Sansa drives her into an alliance with Jon Snow and they overthrow him. In the books, the Bolton's betrayal leads to a Great Conspiracy against them led by the Mandelrys.

The Freys don't fair much better. They are targets for the Brotherhood without Banners and don't have the respect of the people of the Riverlands. Both in the books and on the show, the Starks do get revenge (though they've gotten more of it in the show).

None of this means that characters like Jon will necessarily triumph when the last episode or the final book comes out. Martin has made it pretty clear the story will end on a bittersweet note.

What's also clear though, especially with Season 6 having wrapped up, is that being the cruelest, meanest, most conniving a-hole in the realm can be a handicap as well as an advantage.

You may get to the top but the one who wins power and stays in power strikes a balance between ruthlessness and compassion (cough, cough Daenerys).

Today I'm Tired- Reaction to the Worst Mass Shooting in US History

I'm very tired today.

I'm tired of these  mass shootings.

I'm tired of seeing stories about this school or that club being shot up.

I'm sick of America's infatuation with firearms and the inability of many to even consider any kind of reform that could make attacks like these less frequent.

I'm sick of religious extremism, terrorism and the hate for the 'other' it inspires.

I'm worn out by how another person's preferences in the bedroom can inspire such malice among some and a total lack of empathy from others.

Most of all though, I'm exhausted by the aftermath of bloody days like today.

The hyperbole from pundits. The broad generalizations and hate against one group or another that will just lead to more attacks like these taking place.

The heated, angry and often hateful exchanges that will rage on social media and fail to enlighten anyone.

The fact that so many will be driven by fear to the arms of war-mongering politicians and media outlets who will offer simple, misguided solutions for a trend of violence that has no easy answer.

I'm tired of seeing this cycle repeat itself again and again. I'm tired of our inability to reflect and scrutinize ourselves as a society.

I'm tired of knowing that this will not be the last time I feel this weariness.

Congratulations on Winning the Human Lottery

If you are able to read this, congratulations. You are one of the luckiest people on earth.

Why?

Well, first you can read English.

This means that you were either born in an English speaking country (For the most part very good places to be born in) or you had excellent English schooling in another part of the world.

In either case, knowing this language gives you a huge advantage in a world where this tongue is the language of trade, business and technology.

Speaking of technology, you have a computer. You found this blog online which means you can access the internet as well.

Whatever device you have (a desktop, laptop, smartphone or tablet) you possess a window that allows you to access a wealth of information. You can connect with people not just in your town but with hundreds of others around the world.

You have the ability to find information in the information age.

That is no small thing.

Neither is the time you have spent reading these words. Time is precious and fortunately you can spend some of it reading things online.

You don't have to spend most if not all of your day trying to scratch out a living in the Sahel during a drought.

You don't have to spend twelve to twenty hours a day in a mine-shaft searching for a valuable resource that will earn you a fraction of what you need to feed your family.

You have the luxury of free time, even if that is just five or ten minutes of fooling around on the net between reports in your office.

These are not small things; These luxuries you have.

I'm sure you realize that. Maybe you worked hard for them.

At the same time though, you were also very lucky.

Perhaps, you were born into a middle class home in the West. Maybe your parents were business owners or middle managers at a firm in Asia, Africa or somewhere else. Maybe you were born into worse socioeconomic circumstances but were fortunate to find a scholarship that would pay your way to a new life.

You not only had universities and colleges that you could attend but you had or could find the finances to go to them.

You saw people with an education around you. People you admired and who knew the value of learning.

Not everything is a picnic of course. You've had your low points and struggles. Everyone does. Your journey has been hard.

But it could have been a lot, lot harder had you been born in the poorest district of Mumbai or a Palestinian refugee camp. You would not be where you are and who you are today if you were born in a different place, to a different class at a different time in history.

But you weren't and that has given you a great advantage over a large portion of the world.

Wealth and personal success are not the inevitable result of hard work. A lack of wealth and a life of poverty are not a sign that a person is lazy or earned their poverty.

No one earns their birth. No one chooses where they come into the world.

You, I and the people reading this just won the Human Lottery.

Don't Wait Until They're Gone

Celebrity deaths have been plentiful these past four months.

David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Prince and other notables have left their fans and admirers behind. Each death results in an outpouring of sad tweets and tribute statuses on social media. Other people in the limelight devote a few minutes to remembering their life and legacy.

I've been a part of this reaction a few times in the last few years. I was particularly struck when Philip Seymour Hoffman and Robin Williams passed away in quick succession.

Yet recently, as I saw my newsfeed fill up with tributes for Prince I started to wonder about this familiar cycle of mourning that we the public engage in and what it says about us.

I don't doubt the sincerity of many people who share mournful statuses about how much a notable artist touched their lives. As I said, I've done that myself (most recently with Alan Rickman)

There is a part of me though that wonders why we people wait until this person we cared for so much is gone before expressing how much they meant to us.   

Wouldn't they have appreciated this outpouring of love and gratitude while they were still around to enjoy it?

I think this can be applied not just to celebrities but to our loved ones in general. We all have people who have touched us and who we have touched in return. Once more, we live in an age where technology allows us to reach out and communicate with these people in just a few moments. It's never been easier to send a loving message to an old friend, send an appreciative text or make a call.

For all the idealistic images floating around Instagram and Facebook expressing how important it is to value people over status or possessions, I wonder if most of us practice what we share as well as we could.

All too often, the praise and love we shower on another person comes after they can no longer see it, feel it or read it.

There are a million reasons (some better than others) for why we don't tell others what they mean to us. Maybe we fear being vulnerable, maybe we think we're too busy or consumed by our own problems. Maybe it's too easy to ignore that email or text. Maybe you think that your actions convey your true feelings and that's enough.

I understand all of that. I've given myself these reasons as well. Yet somehow I don't think any of them can truly hold up.

At the end of the day, we can vanish from life at any point. No matter how young or healthy we might be, we could be gone. That's the truth. We should take anyone we know and love for granted. So tell those precious to you just how amazing they are. It may be the last chance you get.

Love Letter to the Rejected

Dear You, 

 

That's the you reading these words. Whoever you are I wish you love; whether I know you are not. 

 

I didn't have the easiest weekend. If you're reading this there's a strong chance you've been having a harder time too. I don't know who rejected you or in what circumstances. Maybe a boyfriend? A girlfriend? Your dream job? Your friends?

I was rejected. I thought I had a dream job in the bag. The people at the other end of my interview thought otherwise. I traveled several thousand miles and spent money and time all to be told. 'Unfortunately, we can't offer you a position.'

That's an easy thing to type out.

There's nothing easy about absorbing a rejection though. You've experienced it too. You know. And I just want to say to you and me. Don't hate yourself for it.

 

Often times you see it coming or at the very least, you know it's a real possibility. You know things don't always turn out how you expect them. You know things can go south and that you shouldn't take that personally.

You've heard all the platitudes: 'You only fail if you don't try.' 'Who said life was fair?' Maybe you've heard them from well-meaning loved ones. Often, it comes from the voice in your head trying to reassure you.

You know rejection is to be expected. You know it. You've seen it and chances are, you've felt it before.

Here's the thing though. Rejection is painful, no matter what. And when it attacks, you absorb it and feel all its claw marks. It will inflict pain, no matter how thick your armor. There's no way around it. You shouldn't expect yourself to be immune to it. No one is. It will hurt you and sometimes your spirit will be slashed to strips.

When a lover rebuffs us. When a dream job slips from our grasp. When the school, person, application or career we invested so much of ourselves in vanishes between our fingers and winds up shattered on the floor.

When we try, try and try to be the people we want to be yet despite all our efforts we still get our souls trampled into the muck. 

When all that happens. Remember, that's ok. You're human. You fail. You feel shitty because you fail. That's ok.

You're not perfect. I'm not. Neither are the people you imagine to have lives free of the struggles you do. 

To be human is to have yourself ravaged by rejection more often than not.

And yet I also want to say, you don't have to let your demon say: 'I was right! I was right all along! You were worthless! You are nothing! I own you! I was right!'

At some point, you will have the strength to reach out grab it's rotting arm and say:

'You are only right if I allow you to be!'

Your wounds can heal. You can clean them. You can sew them up. You can shake until you become unshakable. You can put yourself out there again. You can keep going.

Much Love,
A Fellow Reject 

Badass Women of History- Marina Yurlova

Marina Yurlova

The Soldier

 

Though she never gained the fame or notoriety of some of history's other 'warrior women', Yurlova has a unique story. Her memoir 'Cossack Girl' provides an interesting account of her time serving as a solider in the Russian army during WWI.

Joining the war at just fourteen she would spend her formative years living the life of a soldier and enduring the hardships of life at the front.

Born in a village in the Caucasus Mountains in 1901, Yurlova was a member of the Kuban Cossacks, one of the many Cossack groups that inhabited southern Russia.

Historically, Cossacks were primarily known for two things- A strong sense of independence and their military prowess.

The word Cossack literally means free-man and adventurer.

Descended from Mongol Tatars, Russian peasants, and immigrants from Poland and other Eastern European countries, the Cossacks coalesced into small self-governing military communities.

These communities stayed independent for over a century before being recruited by the Russian monarchy in the sixteen and seventeen hundreds. In exchange for certain privileges the Cossacks were the vanguard for many of Imperial Russia's campaigns of expansion. Serving as scouts, shock troops and bodyguards, the Cossacks earned a reputation for being fierce fighters and steadfast servants of the Czars.

Cossack soldiers in WWI

It was no surprise that when Europe descended into the hellish chaos of the First World War, the Cossacks were called into action. Marina's father, a colonel, set off for the front in 1914. Marina, swept up as so many young people in Europe were by nationalism and patriotic fervor, decided to follow in his footsteps. 

At fourteen years old, she slipped away from her village and climbed aboard a military train in the hopes of uniting with her father. Attached to a group of a Cossack women following their men to the front, Marina eventually found herself in a Russian military camp on the Russian-Turkish front.

Despite her age and gender, Marina was accepted quickly by the men of the camp. Taken under the wing of a soldier named Kosloff, she was given a uniform and was assigned to the stables where she looked after the horses. Though she still looked for her father, her life became consumed by her new regiment.

Marina Yurlova as portrayed by Natalia Witmer in the series '14- Diaries of the Great War'

In time, Marina was also trained as an automechanic and was taught how to shoot by her mentor. Still only fourteen when she tasted combat for the first time, Marina joined her company for an assault to blow up bridges controlled by the Turks.

The attack ended in disaster. Shot in the leg early in the battle, Marina was helpless as her entire company was mowed down by Turkish gunfire. Among the dead was her friend Kosloff. Crawling her way back to her lines, Marina was taken to a hospital where her leg was nearly amputated.

Fortunately, she recovered. The only survivor of the attack, she was awarded a medal and was assigned to a new company. She received a much cooler welcome from her new comrades who regarded her as a child and a camp-follower. She was frequently left behind on missions. One night, while her company was on a dangerous night attack, Marina took a horse from the stables and rode to the front lines.

She found her unit and her courage in the battle cemented her status with the other soldiers.

Marina would continue to serve at the front for three more years, working as a stable-hand, automechanic, truck driver, scout and soldier.

She would survive many battles and close calls, including a night attack where she was knocked unconscious during an artillery barrage in no man's land. She awoke to find herself buried almost up to her face with dirt dispersed by the shells and had to be dug out by other Russian soldiers.

Marina remained at the front until 1917 when the Czar was overthrown. With supply shortages and a lack of morale in the Russian army, desertions and talks of mutiny grew. When Bolshevik soldiers in her unit slew the commanding officers and took control of the regiment, Marina's Cossack heritage made her a target. 

 

Bolshevik Recruiting Poster During the Russian Civil War

Because of her people's staunch loyalty to the Czar (and because many Cossacks were joining anti-Communist armies) she was detained and sent to a Bolshevik prison. She spent several months in a cell by herself. Then, as Russia descended into civil war between pro and anti Communist forces, Marina heard gunshots in her wing of the prison.

A White Russian army just a few days away, the Bolsheviks in charge of the prison had decided to execute their remaining prisoners before fleeing. With her cell all the way at the end of the hall, Marina listened as the Reds shot down the captives inside each room. Expecting her time to come, she stood in the center of her cell waiting for the door to open. However, the Bolsheviks forgot she was there and left after killing the man in the room next to her.

Marina spent several days without food or water in her cell before the White Army arrived and freed her. She joined the anti-Communists for a while before suffering severe shell shock and being hospitalized in Moscow.

Marina was still recovering when she decided that she had endured enough hardship. Seeing no future for herself, she left the hospital with the help of a sympathetic doctor and began an arduous journey across the vast expanse of Russia to Vladivostok. There, she hoped to reach someone at an American run mission and find passage on a ship to the US.

 

Route of the Trans-Siberian Railway which Marina Yurlova used on her journey

Taking a train across the vast expanse of Siberia in 1919, Marina joined a group of Royalists and Cossacks who jumped off in the Siberian wilderness and continued their journey on foot.

A month later, after hiking through wilderness and dodging Bolshevik patrols, the now nineteen year old Marina reached the American mission in Valdivostok, where she secured passage to Japan and then America.

Marina spent the rest of her life living quietly in the US, performing as a dancer before marrying an American filmmaker and becoming a US citizen in 1926. 

Marina Yurlova in 1919.