Of the expectations forced onto able-bodied men of my particular culture, few have been so consistently invoked as that of obligatory free labor. Actually, that’s not so unique to my own culture. That’s been a rather ubiquitous theme amongst the anthropology courses I’ve taken. The exploitation of this sect of society does tend to cause those within it to wonder of what its membership’s “privilege” objectively entails. Granted there may be some benefits to being a man, but remember that it’s still other men in positions of power and influence that subjugate the younger men, so it’s not as if Manhood as a whole is a close-knit brotherhood where we conspire to hold domain over women.
Then of course, there’s voluntary obligatory servitude. I might not want to rub my wife’s foot, but if it hurts I should help. I guess. Because, social contracts and such.
And with that perfect segue, let’s talk about the cottage!
Which I have now named Albatross Lodge. A master of literary subtlety, am I.
May my winded introduction provide the context:
Will the albatross bring about my downfall until at last, like lead, it falls into the…lake? Or is it at present alive and a symbol of good fortune? I would hazard to guess that as long as the aforementioned social sect maintains it, it will remain the latter. And so, the willing obligatory servitude will continue to pay forward its benefaction, and as the complicated metaphor for which I’ve waxed prosaic stands, it shall so remain Albatross Lodge.
–Simon