I don’t know much about Cleopatra.
Supposedly she was beautiful.
But honestly, I’m not convinced that all the reports of beauty throughout the history of humankind are valid.
After all, she lived thousands of years ago, before women were as well-tended-to and groomed as they are today. Who knows? She might have had hairy armpits, which would have been totally acceptable during her time, but might be a bit of a detraction from our concept of modern-day beauty.
I think what bothers me most about Cleopatra is that she killed herself.
It produces a paradox: we want to teach our children to deal with problems, not give up and never snuff themselves. Yet throughout history we glorify people who have committed suicide, from Socrates to Cleopatra, and oh, let’s not forget…Romeo and Juliet.
Even in today’s society, if somebody kills himself, we have a tendency to romanticize it or find reasons why he or she was ill-suited to be part of the family of man.
For instance, supposedly Vincent van Gogh was just too creative and spiritual to be with us mortals.
And then, we turn to our young people after glamorizing self-execution and insist that they seek counseling, gut it out or survive the bullying instead of “offing” themselves.
Sooner or later, we have a responsibility as a society to speak consistently. If you have nothing against killing, then continue to promote all forms of life-termination.
But if one kind of killing bothers you, please admit to yourself that killing as a whole might be obtuse.
Likewise, we should make a decision whether it is a brave thing to commit suicide, or an act of cowardice. And please don’t tell me it’s both, depending on the circumstances.
- Cleopatra may have been beautiful.
- She may have been powerful.
- She may have been cunning.
But when push came to shove and she was floating on a barge on the Nile, she stupidly made an asp out of herself.
Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) — J.R. Practix