Tag Archives: Cleopatra

Come-on

Come-on: (n) a gesture or remark that is intended to attract someone sexually.

Is it just sexually?

When I consider the Internet, I realize there are “come-ons” at every turn.

Of course, some of them can be sexual exploitation, but there is also a great deal of flattery that is thrown around in an attempt to gain a dollar bill.

The problem with every come-on is flattery.

If you’re speaking sexually, it’s highly unlikely you’ll garner the attention, and therefore the pleasure of a partner, by highlighting flaws. No, you have to make it
clear that you are Anthony and she is Cleopatra, or if that reference is too old, you have to pretend that she is Kim Kardashian to your Kanye. (Perhaps by the time this is released to the public, that reference may also be erroneous.)

But also, in business there is the notion that money exists separate from talent, and can be extracted by making people with no ability think for a brief moment that they can be something they never will be.

So rather than becoming a nation which makes products, we have become a nation intent on making ourselves, personally, a product.

Each individual wants to be a brand. So we are susceptible to all sorts of build-up and promotion which causes us to think that if we simply punch this button, in no time at all we will have “thousands of hits and millions of followers.”

It’s a come-on.

For instance, who doesn’t want to “make America great again?” But truthfully, who wants to do anything personally to achieve it?

We think it’s all about plans, maneuvers and business dealings and we’ll pick up a fatter check. It’s a come-on. And it seems to work.

There is an old saying: “There is a way that seems right unto a man, but the end of it is destruction.”

There is also a well-traveled axiom in the business world: If people are interested in what you do, they show up with the money. They don’t ask you for it.

You can take a lot of sadness out of your life by refusing to be tempted by come-ons.

Find your heart, discover your motivation, practice your talent, put it out to the nearest market. See what happens.

 

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Asp

Asp: (n) another term for Egyptian cobra.dictionary with letter A

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.

 

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Antony, Mark

dictionary with letter A

Antony, Mark: (83-30 B.C.) Roman general and triumvir. Following the assassination of Julius Caesar, he took charge and established his relationship with Cleopatra.

How shall we be remembered?

I guess it doesn’t cross your mind very much when you’re twenty-one years old. Matter of fact, in your forties, you’re still trying to gain some footing and clarify your position.

But somewhere along the line it occurs to you that you have lived more of your life than you have left to live.

Once you get over this startling realization, you can ask yourself a valuable question: “Three months after I’m dead, if someone mentions my name, what images will it conjure?”

I think about this as I consider Mark Antony.

He obviously was a very powerful fellow. When the Roman Empire went through a brief season of having three “caesars,” he was one of them. Pretty impressive.

Yet what will be his heritage is the fact that he fell helmet over sandals in love with the Queen of Egypt, Cleopatra.

She had some sort of magic that allured men her way, and certainly Mark Antony was not immune. So much so that he abandoned his loyalty to Rome and began to believe that it was his mission to conquer the world with his “flower of Egypt.”

Here are the questions he did not ask himself:

  1. Just because she’s good in bed, does it mean that she knows what to do with an army?
  2. How much am I giving up to be with this woman?
  3. Can we actually pull off conquering the world together, or is it just overwrought pillow-talk?

Because bluntly, the union of these two souls who enjoyed each other in a carnal way–Mark Antony and Cleopatra–was quickly brought to nought by the Roman legions.

So how is he remembered?

As a love-sick puppy who ended up looking like a dog.

 

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Antiquity

dictionary with letter AAntiquity: (n) the ancient past, especially the period before the Middle Ages.

Every once in a while, a startling revelation will cross my mind, giving me a sensation similar to standing on the deck of the Santa Maria, spying the New World. Of course, as in the case of Christopher Columbus, nor is it to me.

Truth has been around for a long time and it always has three important ingredients:

  1. It actually works.
  2. It doesn’t hurt anyone else.
  3. It’s not ashamed of the failed experiments leading to greater revelation.

Often when I find myself in a circle of believers who are discussing the Good Book and stories of biblical proportions, my brain freezes, as I wonder why they think these individuals had any greater spirituality than we do.

Actually, if I found myself translated back to antiquity, I’d be walking around as a god with my level of knowledge, in comparison to the fear, superstition and incomplete hypotheses of their time.

If we really believe that spiritual evolution stopped on the Isle of Patmos with John the Apostle, or on the mountain with Mohammed, then we are negating hundreds and hundreds of years of scientific miracles and human growth.

I think the Good Book is exactly that–it’s a good book.

As a good book, it has plot twists, character development, elimination of villains, and the exposure of bizarre ideas, as the story line is pushed along towards what we hope will be a happy ending.

Even though our children have a difficult time imagining Alexander the Great or Cleopatra, when we parallel these individuals with updated versions of our own time–like Kanye West and Kim Kardashian–it’s much easier to see where we’ve come from and possibly where we need to go.

I am not of the belief that any good thing should be thrown away. Generally speaking, I don’t walk out of a movie once I’ve paid my premium price, even if the flick is not to my liking. I try to find something usable.

There is much we can learn from antiquity:

We can learn that superstition cannot shout down science.

We can learn that we are learning, and therefore should never be content in our own level of comprehension.

And we can learn that those who made the history books were once just clumsy, insecure flesh-and-blood creatures … who spent way too much time wondering if they were sexy.

 

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