Hard Bondage

And ye shall the Hebrews from Goshen be freed from their hard bondage and set to the land of milk and honey.

“Let my people go! From hard bondage.”

I am obviously not a scholar of religious text. Nor is the above an actual quote, I don’t think. Nor does Exodus have anything to do with Easter…right?

But I do enjoy MGM’s 10 Commandments. And as I’ve blocked from memory anything previously learned in Bible study, that film has become my scripture go-to. It’s either that or read one of the 4 Bible’s on the bookshelf that we have for some reason. The things we inherit.

I present to you now this image, seen as a recurring billboard ad throughout the American Midwest. Noticed repeatedly whilst traveling to Wisconsin, and much mocked along the way.

Questions arise.

  • Why the wording choice?
  • Why is this such a bad sin as to warrant the ad’s frequency?
  • Why the BDSM theme?

I assume that the the intent of course is to rouse within those so shackled a desire most loathsome and overpowering that they might be inclined to call for salvation.

Be that the case, then those chains should at least be padded. Amateurs.

–Simon

Luck X6

The first time I found a 5-leaf clover, I was pretty excited.

I’ve since found a number of them.

Still, it’s cool every time. And I’ve certainly had my share of financial luck over the years. But if the wealthy elites throughout history have taught me anything, it’s that one can never have enough! Behold:

10 5-leaf clovers!
All from this lucky patch. Maybe there’s some uranium down there I could mine.

That means, I get a 10% raise. Or a 50% raise! Or maybe I start earning 10X my current salary! Or one of those stupid mutual funds I keep buying starts paying off?

Whatever the outcome, I’m looking forward to it!

…although, I’ve also learned from history’s elites that violent ends come to those with too much. So maybe I should keep my hopes reasonable. I’ll settle for the $10MM yacht, thank you.

–Simon

Lodge Fish

I did manage to get some fishing done at the lodge. Nothing exciting – just a few bluegills. But my survival skills must be fully documented for posterity.

It would have taken a lot of effort to turn these little guys into morsels, so free they went. But I could have! Survival skills!

–Simon

Albatross Lodge

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:

A new kitchen counter install was required.
And with that comes everything but the kitchen sink…
And plumbing.
And stairs. And Liz’s uncle Dave didn’t even throw things or insult my intelligence. It wasn’t like working on the house with my dad at all.

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