Why Can’t Women Be Cat Women?

I’ll preface this by saying, yes I am a TED geek. And while browsing their site I came across a familiar face, a young girl by the name of Tavi Gevinson (who I am familiar with because I’m also a fashion blog-browsing geek.) Tavi Gevinson is a fifteen year old, self-proclaimed “feminist,” who’s popular fashion blog and magazine, The Rookie has created a buzzing community for teen girls. At a frightening young age, Tavi offers provoking opinions on the image of women that the media has created and how it effects teens today. Her magazine itself isn’t geared toward your typical image of the teenage girl, but more so for those who feel out of the norm or who feel they don’t fit the ideal image let’s say, “The Hills”-type of girl (which I don’t know anything about *sarcasm insert - for those of you who don’t know me well enough yet*.) 

Though this video is only 7 minutes long, time that most could spare to listen, I’ll go ahead and spoil it with a few thoughts. Tavi explains how most tv and film have portrayed women as flat, 2 dimensional characters; such as Cat Women, 

“who plays her sexuality up a lot and it’s seen as power. But they’re not strong characters who happen to be female. They’re completely flat and basically cardboard characters. The problem with that is that people expect women to be that easy to understand and women are mad at themselves for being that simple. When in actuality women are complicated, women are multi-faceted. Not because women are crazy. People are crazy and women happen to be people.”

I admire such honesty of a brilliant 15 year old. While Tavi gears most of this speech towards the media’s effect on the perception and identity of teen girls, I dare say that this struggle to “figure it out” doesn’t end as you age. Though our ever-evolving culture and media has grown to enable and broaden what was once a generalized view of women (think of characters such a Betty Draper, Liz Lemon or even Pam from the office) the picture of the ideal women still effects what men expect from women and what women expect of themselves. I myself, know I have moments when my emotions and brain feel like mush and I wonder why I don’t have it “figured out” just yet. Why can’t I be Cat Women? How can we know what we want, see it and take it? Life just isn’t that simple. And striving to be so simple would deplete the female gender of the multi-faceted, complex and beautiful ways that her character enrich life in more ways than one. 

Take a listen to Tavi and tell me, especially you women out there, if this topic still doesn’t effect females today. I think grown women may need their own “Rookie” magazine as well…

So apparently the happiest year of life has been discovered. If you haven’t already heard and can easily tune out monotonous spotify ads, British scientist have determined “People aren’t happiest until they’ve reach age 33.” This leaves myself, along with the rest of you young adults and teens of the world, to assume we should anticipate life being “less then” up to this magical age.  Not only does this imply that you must wait for happiness until reaching your 30’s, but that you are lacking materialistic, relational, vocational and personal contentment.

For anyone who’s left college or your youth and stepped into adulthood, life rarely feels as “happy” as you imagine it to be. Love songs, coming-of-age formulated films, and childhood fairytales ( excluding Brothers Grimm of course) often suggest that we’ve “yet to arrive.” This study seems to convey the same idea. But since these scientist are such experts on true happiness and have done their homework, I guess it should give me something to look forward to?  

Time magazine reports: “The age of 33 is enough time to have shaken off childhood naiveté and the wild scheming of teenaged years without losing the energy and enthusiasm of youth,” psychologist Donna Dawson said in the survey’s findings. “By this age innocence has been lost, but our sense of reality is mixed with a strong sense of hope, a ‘can do’ spirit, and a healthy belief in our own talents and abilities.”

So what are some things that could make today’s 33 so deliriously happy an age? While most 33 year olds today are single (or just settling into marriage,) have time for more than one job (one which probably pacifies their passion, while the other pays the rent) and likely don’t own a home, there is a lot of room left for … yourself. Granted any career-driven 33 year-old working 60-plus-hour weeks, or juggling grad school or on the dating scene or writing a book adapted from their blog (or all the above) may beg to differ. But such a life allows for much time ( a commodity most of us may never grasp until having children) much time for meeting one’s own needs than life may have ever allowed before. At least, this is the vague picture I have of most 33 (or 30-some)year olds I know. And apparently the studies show, such a life makes one the happiest. So do I really need to wait till I’m 33 to taste of such bliss? And how exactly would one define “happiest”? Merely crazy-busy success and more money to play with?

Our generation harps and criticizes the boomer generation (our parents and their parents) for working too hard for the sake of success, for the sake of money, also known as the “American Dream.” Unfamiliar with that term? Read or watch “Death of a Salesman.” That should give some perspective to the “American Dream.”

Could it be that “happiness” is this generation’s “American Dream”; where it’s not so much that success in wealth is the goal, but the dream of a spotlight on your originality or genius for, let’s say, one’s brilliant app idea, or best-selling book about how to be your happiest self is the ultimate end? Is there much of a difference between fixating on attaining the “American Dream” and the “happiest” point of life? But success and spotlight put aside, where does happiness fall? What’s it’s worth beyond the given fame and increased income?

We all anticipate “happier” years, weeks or moments of life. But this tends to taint every moment leading up to our “happiest” as less than. Labeling the years that frame our “happier” years as not-“happy”, not only is depressing, but demotivates and sucks the life and vision from out present.  Worst of all, this mindset sets our gaze more on ourself and our own “happiness”. Happiness just might not be all it’s cracked up to be. The pursuit of happiness may not be a means to more than money and success. Our hunt for happiness may be a wasted pursuit, if just for the sake of happiness.

CS Lewis, as always, put it best:

“God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing.”

As much as I myself anticipate happier moments in life, moments when my income is increased to a comfortable level, moments where dreams and passions do come to life, I can not allow my daily happiness (let alone the years of my life) to depend on such things. I know when my mind and heart are commited to living each age of life dedicated to loving God, I am my happiest, no matter where I am and no matter what age. Because life is meant for so much more than to merely be “happy.”

Read more: http://newsfeed.time.com/2012/03/29/survey-people-arent-happiest-until-they-reach-age-33/#ixzz1svJMb2mn

The Word set to Jazz. Esperanza is like a present-day David, only tearing up her bass instead of a harp (or lyre.)

If what was considered desirable, in regards to physical appearance, was what was balanced and moderate, how different might our culture be? While the media tends to spotlight either the extremely slender or the rather curvaceous “goddesses”, be it Gisele or Cristina Hendricks, anyone considerably “average” tends to go unnoticed. It’s always one extreme or another that grabs our eyes, our praise and the cover of Vogue magazine. Though beauty is “a many splendid things,” nowadays, truth be told, we hold a very narrow view of what is physically appealing. Yet, there is one woman who’s career could be redefining fashion’s view  and inevitably, our view. Crystal Renn, a model who has been the extremely thin, the plus-sized now has arrived somewhere in the middle (if your concern is numbers, you’re at the wrong blog. Google it.) To cut to the short of it, Crystal became anorexic initially when modeling and went into rehab. Afterwards, when she began eating and ceased her compulsive exercising habit, she became a world-famous plus-size model and wrote a book called “Hungry.” The years following,  Crystal reintroduced a healthy diet and workout routine that has brought her somewhere in between two extremes; placing her as one of the world’s only “average-sized” models.

Obviously healthier than ever, Crystal is in high demand and returns with a clear voice and message. On the Today Show, a few years ago, Crystal Renn was interviewed about her revived career in modeling and stated:

“What I think would end the confusion is if we just called each other, all the models, just models. No more straight-size. No more plus-size… I want to get rid of titles, because they bemean women. And there’s no need for that.”

Her return will surely have a high impact on the modeling industry. Renn actually may be paving the way for, not only a new demand of “average-sized” models, new faces on the cover of Vogue, but a new desirable trait; a revived allure of what is currently considered moderate, fair or average. It very well could negate the picture of beauty and the idea of what “sexy” is, that our culture has instilled in the minds of men, women, boys and girls alike. When the majority of the models, as well as actors on t.v. and film are continually thinner and tighter, our brains tend to correlate these figures with what is “sexy” and “beautiful” more than we think (unless of course you’re the kind of man who is less vain than a woman; though there seem to be fewer and fewer of you. But that’s just my biased opinion.) So sadly this means, we often correlate anything outside of that as “less than.”

While to the public eye, the media’s mainstream of figures are indeed either runway thin or plus-size figures (which are becoming more the norm.) But this creates a divide; a divide with a massive gap. And this gap instills massive insecurities among women who feel they are “less than.” (Because it is more likely than not, that even with the rise of plus-size, the runway - size is still the most demanded and coveted.) What the media ignites through this is a disarray of aspirations and a spread of unhealthy habits that are attained in the name of “beauty.” When our culture continues to hold such extremes as the picture of enviable allure, it creates a disillusion, in the minds of men and women alike) of what is and isn’t attractive.

There was a day when things weren’t so confusing. When women were beautiful, not because of their religious vegan practice or high-end personal fashion taste, but because they were women. We’ve lost a sense of femininity in our culture. Perfection (in whatever extremity the media is momentarily demanding) is the new feminine.  There is beauty in not trying so hard to “maintain” or be like “so and so…” There is beauty in just being. But we’ve lost such simplistic and humble appreciation for life. We’ve limited our definition of what is lovely and what is womanly.

Crystal Renn may be breaking new ground not just for mainstream fashion, but for our culture’s concept of beauty. Whether or not it was Crystal’s intention to explore all extremes of sizes, just to find herself a normal-sized beauty, her journey is certainly helping shape our culture’s concept of what is beautiful.  Maybe now, with the likes of Crystal Renn, we will see a greater aspiration and a greater appreciation for what is fair or “average.” It would be a relief if what was displayed as “beautiful”, was real beauty afterall.

“If you want to get healthy, you just might not want to go to a doctor. You might instead, go to church. “ At least that is what practicing physician, Dr. Mark Hyman thinks. A regular contributor for the Huffington Post Health, Hyman suggests that we may be looking to the wrong places for answers to our health issues. Essentially, health care is America’s means to answering our health woes and ailments. Be it our increase in diabetes, chronic diseases or issues with Planned Parenthood (more like the “oops, I did it again”- accidental coverage), we are fixated on every shift and change of this ever-evolving system. While health care couldn’t be a greater concern for our Nation, could we be banking on the wrong people and systems for our health and well being? 

The words “health care” didn’t always carry much weight for me before graduating college. Honestly, while it may sound naive (or plain ignorant,) I don’t think the words crossed my mind much until moving to NYC, on my own and on a religious job hunt. Even then I was perfectly content without it until maybe retirement (as in, never.) But now, knowing how blessed I am with a Full-Time job, I don’t take such benefits for granted. While there are so many who don’t have health care, those of us who do have it seem to be quickly overwhelmed by the many issues within our coverage; like, how the next President will change the way our plans looks, how much longer we can fudge around as a dependent, enjoying mom and dad’s benefits (if you’re still under 26, enjoy it while you can), or even now, the major uproar over the Birth Control Opt-Out Passed (though this opens another can of worms, that I will save for another time.) And I won’t even begin to talk about our lack of common sense where food and fitness is concerned. But for all the above, we live in a Nation that has been fashioned to feel the need to depend on Health Care providers and on our government, probably more than we wish to. Yet our country continues to decline in health, while still escalating in worry and stress. It’s a rigorous cycle.

It’s rare to hear a Dr. offer “the church” as an answer to our health needs, let alone on The Huffington Post. I believe the church plays a vital role in our emotional health and wellness, but that the church can also increase and heal our physical and mental health ( “the church” meaning, not just the fact that you go, but, the community that you are spending time with and the faith that you share in God.) When more of our illnesses increase in complexity and new ones continue develop, how can we rely on man to have all the answers, let alone properly govern how our needs are met. While “the church” is offered by Hyman as a place of emotional wellness and community, that will likely bring healing to our bones as well our soul, I would go further to say that the church, founded on the grace and faith of Jesus Christ, ought to fill us wiht an even greater expectation for healing and restoration.

There was a day when people referred to church as if it were a hospital, seeking more answers from God than anywhere else. But as we’ve grown as a country, developing more systems and answer to our problems, we seem to think we can provide solutions to it all. Though this doesn’t change how many chronic diseases are vaguely diagnosed, how many cancer patience undergo treatments that seem to be stripping them of more life than they can afford, or how people like my Dad, who has been diagnosed with Spasmodic Dysphonia for the past 15 years, “ a neurological voice disorder that involves “spasms” of the vocal cords causing interruptions of speech and affects the voice quality. SD can cause the voice to break up or to have a tight, strained, or strangled quality.”  My Dad, a professor, author, minister and speaker, was a full time pastor when one Christmas service he completely lost his voice in the middle of the sermon. There was no reason and doctors had no explanation. However, when my Dad lost his voice he began writing, and from it has published several books, contributes to several magazines, blogs (still with much more in the works) and continues to speak.  And we, the family, continue to believe God to heal him. Miracles still do happen. There are questions health care can’t answer and ailments our doctors can’t cure. So why do we go to our health care as our first resource to heal our ailments, instead of the church? Why do we get so stressed over providers who cannot completely provide all we need?

I’m not even sure if Dr. Hyman goes to church, but he certainly has a good idea of it’s vital role in our lives. More of our physical well being is connected to our trust and faith in God than we often wish to acknowledge, if we acknowledge there is a God at all. But while we continue to fork over our dollar bills, labeled “In God we Trust”, to our care providers, without ever seeking healing in the church and in God, we essentially are handing over trust and expectancy to men, science and a complex world of health that cannot fully our needs. So on Sunday, if you are begrudgingly rolling out of bed to go to church ( especially as we Spring ahead this weekend) think of it as a God-given health care, only one with no strings attached and no lifetime limit.

Here it is, a week since the red carpet was rolled out for the Oscars, and it seems the most discussed topics concerning this event, online and in print, are “The Worst and Best Dressed” of the night. Never mind the fact that the winner of this year’s Best Picture was a silent film (which I had predicted) and the other to sweep house that night was a cgi family film (for those of you unfamiliar with the Oscars, it’s not typical for such films to leave with their hands full.) Of course, the fashion bashing that follows is only expected, especially in egotistical American media. But it seems our expectations have heightened beyond whether or not an actress is decked out with all the bells and whistles that we’ve anticipate. After reading a recent post on Refinery29.com, a fashion blog I’m guilty of frequenting on a weekly (ok, daily) basis, shared their two cents, or what they would call “Our Beef with Red-Carpet Fashion.” But rather than stating their thoughts on the “best and worst dressed of the night,” like every other website (fashion, news, wellness, you name it,) they question “Whatever happened to Personal Style on the Red Carpet.” They stated their “beef” as:

Every year, we tune into the scars a full hour (or three) ahead of the curtain, just to watch what we think is the actual show: the red carpet arrivals. And every year, we hope for another Cher moment: that over-the-top, dripping-with-personality showcase of everything the actress (or actor) is all about when they’re not donning another persona — an opportunity to show the world their point of view when there’s no script to speak through. However, it’s been a long time since an Oscar red carpet look really bowled us over and left us with an ear-to-ear grin. We’re talking about the kind of sartorial choice that’s genuine and awesome and statement-making, whether it’s presented as a publicity stunt or not (yes, even egg vessels get our vote).

The complaint here seems to be that the majority of our actors aren’t exposing enough of who they are through what they wear. It seems unnecessary enough that we bash actors taste in fashion on a daily basis, but we have to complain that they’re outfits are not “dripping-with-personality” enough for us? What exactly would be defined as“personal style ?” It’s surely a topic I could dedicate a series of posts to, so I’ll keep it focused. When actors are just people, what makes us feel empowered to judge how they dress? And if “personal style” is personal, who are we to say who they are?

Like I said “personal style” has taken on a whole new meaning in the past decade, for reasons I love and reasons I hate. A reason I love - you can pretty much wear what you want (within reason) add clashing colors or print or just simply a plain and monochromatic choices are all welcomed. Reasons I hate - the idea that “who I am” or expressing my “point of view” to the world is summed up by my current ensemble. That is bizarre. No not like Haper’s Bazaar, but like Barnum and Bailey bizarre. How can we determine that much from an individual, through their layers of clothes? Granted, I adore the art of fashion, the simplicity and complexity of it all, but should it be so complex as to conveying to the world who an individual truly is? I’ll tackle that question another time.

Back to the actors who had to endure the Red Carpet of 2012: why do we hold such high standards for their choice of dress for this one night? According to Refinery29, With the best stylists, designers, and resources in the entire fashion world at their fingertips, the celebs on the red carpet should never resemble a parade of prom queens. But they should have more “personal style”? Honestly, if I were in the shoes of any nominee that night, sure, I’d be concerned with looking my best, sure, you bet I’d be checking out any Tom Ford or Louis Vuitton piece I could get my hands on, but I think I’d have a few other important things in mind than feeling my highest priority of the night was my need to “express myself” through a dress. They’re actors, for crying out loud. Oscar nominated actors. I don’t really think we should be the ones telling them how to express themselves, when they’re walking that red carpet because of how well they’ve expressed themselves.

Instead of being so critical of how these actors are dressed, why doesn’t everyone dress the way they feel they’re most “themselves” and let these actors be who they are. They’ve made it to the red carpet, after all. I don’t think they’re in need or looking for anyone’s sartorialist advice.

What makes me think I face any real struggles in this life? Because I’m not currently in my dream job? Because life isn’t panning out exactly where I hoped it would? We all have those days, where, we’re like, “Really Lord? Why?” You know those times you face where you’re ready to crawl out of your skin and you don’t understand how God can possibly stretch you any further? We’ll, I know do, but I’m finding even at my greatest point of struggle I am such a featherweight in this fight in comparison to some; in comparison to the likes of  Youcef Nadarkhani, a man who just today has been convicted guilty of converting to Christianity and therefore will be put to death. This is actually still happening. We think of such an absurd conviction as obsolete to our current culture, as so removed from our reality. But there is a man, right now, being beaten and likely tortured for his love of Jesus Christ. After a few more opportunities and refusing to claim Allah as his god, Youcef’s sentence, to be “executed at any time without warning,” grieves me and wakes me up.

Can those of us who share a love and relationship with God, even begin to understand what love is? Honestly, I find myself struggling at times to trust God’s perfect, sovereign will when my present state doesn’t match whatever I dreamt up in my head 5 years ago. Certain choices I’ve made, since committing my life to Christ, I’ve even considered to be sacrificial, as if I’m doing God a favor. When really, I’m the one favored and blessed with a life and love I don’t deserve. And what has He asked of me? To follow, to love Him as He has loved me. For Pastor Youcef Nadarkhani, with 2 sons and a wife on the other side, saying no to Islam and yes to God with his life on the line is love like we do not often see; a truly sacrificial love that may be the most beautiful, unnerving kind of love to offer.

A man who won’t waiver his words and won’t play along in the game, when asked to claim Muhammad as a prophet and continues to name Jesus as his Lord, embodies more love and commitment than seems humanly possible. And likely, it will be the death of him. (Though we know eternity awaits.) I hate the thought that such an absurd action could still claim the life of an innocent man. I hate the thought of what is being done to him right now, as he clings to Christ as the one, true God. And I hate to think that I assume I understand suffering. Granted we all face it at different degrees, to what, I believe, God knows we can handle. We’re all aware that persecution still takes place, but can we possibly conceive the love it would take to cling to Christ as your Savior to the point of death? The next time I cry or complain about the disruptions in my life I hope I think of Youcef. I hope I think of his wife and his boys and the legacy that they will leave. If I ever fail to, please kindly slap this post in my face. In the mean time, pray that God would miraculously intercede for Youcef Nadarkhani.

AESTHETICALLY AFFECTED

I have a disease. I’m not quite sure how I caught it or even if it’s hereditary, but my issue is this: my mood, thoughts and impressions are highly affected by the look and feel of things. In other words, my surrounding affect my human state of mind. There are stores I’m more eager to buy clothes in, due to the lighting and layout and others I can’t stand being at if things are in disarray. There are cafes I’m more inclined to linger at if the music is right. And there are cities that I’d be content walking around all day where the people are colorful and eclectic. Put down in words, I sound more high-maintenance than affected. I realize this. But I dare say that I’m not the only one so aesthetically affected. While many spend an hour every morning just to walk out of the house looking like “I just rolled out of bed & don’t care what you think” (been there, still am there somedays,) and when the Style and Food section is more quicker to access in the New York Times than wanted ads job, it’s safe to say I’m not the only one. 

With the 2012 Fall New York Fashion Week coming to a close (though I might be one of the few who even cares,) I thought (don’t worry men, this isn’t a style blog and I have no intention of it becoming one. It’s safe to continue on…) I thought it would be appropriate to address now. Fashion week is like a big girls dress up celebration, only with an ungodly amount of money invested in it. Of the blogs I frequent, French photographer and artist Garance Dore is possibly my favorite. Her site, Garancedore.fr based in NYC, is basically a daily feed of the unique street style of New Yorkers. No matter who they are, she manages to capture each individual’s personal style in a way that mesmerizes me. So whenever Fashion Week is in town, her site is a decadent feast for the eyes, particularly those keen on style. 

For Fashion Week she put up a short video, called “Pardon My French!” (Garance is very much French, adorable & hilarious.) It opens with shots of Lincoln Center covered in snow, which make me want to melt.  Just watch it. The pace of the while flurries over the city, against the classical motif is a dead-on example of how easily I’m affected (and the fact that I just love this massive-monster-of-a-city might have something to do with it, even though I know with it’s mad traffic scene and with fire engines squealing by on the hour, it’s not always as dreamy as Dore’s ethereal portrayal.) As much as this celebratory big-girls-dress-up week can be vain, excessive and overtly materialistic, it is a prime place where people from all over the world gather to be inspired, drawn in and awaken. This is just one major, global idea of how affecting aesthetics can be to our human psyche. 

In an even smaller, more individual and local sense, the way in which things are presented to us affects our self-image, our opinion of what is being presented, and our level of comfort. In a way it’s like a sixth sense that each of us have, which you can’t completely define or understand. Imagine if you didn’t have this sense. Imagine you lacked any sense of being awakened by a new song, any sense of enthrallment first watching a Christopher Nolan film, or missed out on an occasional “wow” moment when you walk into a store. (If you are neither awed or enthralled by Nolan’s films, I’m not sure you have a pulse and in fact, pretty sure you’ve stopped reading at this point.)

However in no way do I wish to encourage finding solace in things or credit the source of these senses to define us, which we naturally tend to do. But I marvel at the fact that we all, in our own unique way, have the ability to be aesthetically affected. When God could’ve made it so much more simpler and boring, when we could be eating the same thing out of a trough 2 times a day, be born in uniforms or live in a world that only takes time to create or develop that which is necessary for us. Thank God, He imparted a stroke of His genius creativity in man and a receptiveness in us to enjoy such pleasures in life. Life would be quite dull without such affects. I think it a gift that our personalities could be developed and stimulated in such a way. I think Garance’s photos a gift that I could look on everyday. And yes, I even think the Derek Lams, Diane von Furstenburgs and Stella McCartneys of Fashion Week to be a gift to us. Without such aesthetic affects the world would be a pretty straight-laced place. I guess then, I am grateful for this disease.

If you’ve seen the movie “Spartacus,” you know that quote doesn’t have much of anything to do with the presidential elections. But it was the first thought that came to mind when I saw the latest Newsweek. Though we’ve come quite far from our barbaric ways of governing, these “diplomatic” debates have been about as bazaar as this cover. While not quite the equivalent of watching a game of gladiators, lately these republican debates have been about as entertaining, making Newsweek’s choice of candidates in loin cloth quite fitting. And if watching Mitt Romney and Newt Gingrich fighting like to boys at recess over who lost the last game isn’t entertaining to you, certainly Ron Paul with his high-pitched voice, playing the bobble-head-like referee keeps things interesting. All making fun aside, in these few paragraphs, I don’t wish to sway you right or left but rather would like to observe our reaction and response to the 2012 causcuses. (Don’t you just hate that word?)

If you haven’t seen it, “Spartacus” is a film by Stanley Kubrick about a heroic and rebellious Roman slave, played by Kirk Douglas, during the Third Servile War. (**SPOILER ALERT**) At the end of the film, the Roman Emperor demands that the zealous Spartacus reveals himself in turn for every other Roman slave’s freedom. After Spartacus (Douglas) exclaims “I am Spartacus” everyone else around begins standing and claiming “I am Spartacus,” leaving the Emperor so enraged that every last slave is crucified. The end. I know. It’s grueling. But these debates sometimes feel like that; like a bunch of savages in suits shouting “I am Spartacus,” “I am Spartacus,” “No, I am Spartacus!” Though altogether the film is irrelevant to the elections of 2012, doesn’t it feel this barbaric at time? Like we’re looking for this one, zealous, heroic individual to stand up and identify himself? 

As young adults, some of us are more eager to listen and trust all we hear.  It can be an impressionable period of life. While it’s ideal to always be eager to learn, there are some people we encounter who have such a compelling presence or a voice so fluent and forthright that we tend to cling to their words like gold (as if man could produce such an element.) And somehow we let the idea of these men build up in our mind to that of heroes and gods. But after you’ve lived enough life (which might not be saying much,) likely, you come to a place where you realize these words, which you clung to like a hidden treasure, were nothing more than words. It’s disappointing when men we’ve held up so high don’t meet up to their word. It’s disheartening when men we admire don’t fulfill our expectations. We have a way of building men up in our heads, and expecting them to be more than they are.

So in comparison to our personal interactions, for these candidates, the stakes are higher. The audiences are much larger. And so their words are inevitably greater than anyone can honestly fulfill. And who knows how much of what they’re saying are even their own words to being with? Inevitably, it will be their word that wins us over and elects the next President. Still, we can’t forget that their word is just a word. And each candidate is just a man.  One Psalm delicately puts this matter in perspective for me every time; “Man… is but a breath” (Ps. 39:5.) While the White House has held many men who’ve shaped America for the better, it takes more than a breath to tackle all our Nation faces and win.

While Gingrich and Romney are already fighting to the death in diapers, Obama warms up in the Oval office, and Ron Paul gets pumped up, the words being prepared for these final debates will surely be more ornate and full of life than they will sound after the Inauguration in 2013.  We ought to keep in mind, not one man can hold the weight of all we expect and need. And while there certainly may be a right man for the job, even Spartacus dies in the end.