Cold war

Cold war: (n) a state of political hostility between countries

It happened over the summer between sixth and seventh grade.

When we returned in the fall for football practice, some of the guys in the locker room had hair on their balls. Some didn’t.

Needless to say, this developed class warfare.

Those who had been endowed with hairiness were also convinced that their “hanger” was “better hung.”

Having no follicles sprouting black shrub, the other boys were at a loss to rally much of a defense. For two weeks, it literally created a separation on our football
team…over pubes.

Supposedly not having it was hilarious to those who did.

Even though the coach sat us down and explained puberty, and that the rest of the “penile Chihuahuas” would eventually sprout some overgrowth, there was still a cold war for most of the football season, until nature took its course.

Now, you may wonder why I begin this essay talking about junior high school football. I do so because I don’t believe that we, as men, ever progress much beyond it.

Whether we’re comparing our gross national products, our armies or our missiles, there is certainly not much difference from the locker-room jabber that caused so much tension and brooding in junior high.

Maybe we should just go ahead and call it a “cock war” instead of a “cold war.” Maybe such a revelation might stir a consciousness of the futility of comparing strength and might based upon physical virility.

Is it really necessary to know how many times the world could be destroyed by nuclear weapons, or might it be intriguing to contemplate clever and inventive ways to avoid it?

If you don’t want to fight, stop comparing.

It’s that simple.

The minute you feel the need to compare what you have–especially favorably–to what others have, a chill will fill the room.

If it gets cold enough, unfortunately, somebody may want to warm it up.Donate Button

 

 

Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

Good News and Better News

 

Andersen, Hans Christian

dictionary with letter A

Andersen, Hans Christian (1805-75): Danish author noted for his fairy tales, such as “The Snow Queen,” “The Ugly Duckling” and “The Little Match Girl.”

I ferociously attempt not to become cynical.

Matter of fact, I consider cynicism to be one of the more dangerous vices in the human nuclear arsenal of available missiles.

But at the same time, I grow weary of ideas that appear to be optimistic but really are pandering to an ongoing philosophy: “normal is the best.”

Nowhere is this more obvious than in the work of Andersen with “The Ugly Duckling.”

I don’t think we understand the message of this particular tale. What is communicated to me is that a little bird who appears to be an ugly duckling has to hang on through its grotesque phase, because in the end, the bird will end up in the “Kingdom of Normal”–as beautiful, evolving into a swan.

Is this really what we want to communicate? What if you are just an ugly duck? What if you aren’t an emerging swan?

What if you just plopped out of your mother with an incurable dose of homely? Is there room for an ugly duckling who doesn’t become a swan–to still gain acceptance, or even prosperity?

I know my man Hans thought he was being generous of spirit by portraying that those who were less fortunate or not well-endowed should persevere to someday gain place in our society.

But the place he promised them was beauty. We don’t all end up beautiful! There is a whole majority of the human race that has to learn to become functionally ugly.

  • They will never be airbrushed.
  • They will never be gorgeous.
  • They will not achieve stunning.
  • And they certainly don’t become swans.

So understanding that Mr. Hans was trying to bring honor to the Andersen family by putting forth a positive message, it ends up not being very Christian.

Here’s the truth:

Sometimes ugly ducklings stay ugly and only gain beauty and value … through determination.

 

 

 

 

Donate Button

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix