The Curse of the Black Pearl

Upon reading “Consider the Lobster” by David Foster Wallace, I decided to look up the “sit-down restaurant called the Black Pearl on Harbor Park’s northwest wharf” (665). Unfortunately, either my googling skills are severely sub-par, David Foster Wallace made up this restaurant, or it was renamed sometime since 2003 to simply “The Pearl.” This was quite a disappointment for me, a die-hard Pirates of the Caribbean fan, because I was hoping for a restaurant based entirely on Captain Jack Sparrow’s beautiful and legendary ship, the Black Pearl. I have sold my soul to this franchise. Extra books, posters, themed amusement park rides, following the #potc tag on tumblr, the works. If I were to ever get a tattoo, long after my mother has passed away to prevent her from murdering me, it would most likely be matching one of the pirates. I’m disinclined to acquiesce to the end of the fifth film (Barbossa has always been my favorite) and demand a sixth no matter what decline in quality it may bring. Of course, having a trigger word like “Black Pearl” in the second paragraph of this piece made it a bit difficult to concentrate on David Foster Wallace’s writing.

However, the celebration of the torture of lobsters bouncing around in my head among pirates made me realize my vegetarian disgust towards the cruelty of the MLF revealed by David Foster Wallace is a bit hypocritical, given my love of those Caribbean crooks. Through his satire, David Foster Wallace criticizes not only the way Americans torture weaker beings (lobsters), but also how that torture is euphemized and even celebrated (“Light-houses, Laughter, and Lobster” at the “World’s Largest Lobster Cooker”). It’s easy for me to think, hey yeah that’s pretty messed up. But so is idolizing pirates, who are, by definition, not good people. And I know I’m not the only one that thinks pirates are cool. Ask any smart 5^th grader and they’ll tell you pirates are cooler than cowboys, ninjas, aliens, and robots. So it’s not even just killing animals that we celebrate. We probably celebrate a lot of things not worth celebrating without even being aware of how not-worth-celebrating they really are. 

What Is It About Men

Reading the title of the piece “About Men” by Gretel Ehrlich, I thought to myself: What Is It About Men? That is a goood Amy Winehouse song. Frank is such a great album. But once I reached the body of the essay, I was reminded of another of her songs, a few tracks earlier on the same record. The album’s opener, “Stronger Than Me” came to mind – not for its similarity to Ehrlich’s writing, but rather because of its contrasting sentiment. Ehrlich argues that “Instead of the macho, trigger-happy man our culture has perversely wanted him to be, the cowboy is more apt to be convivial, quirky, and softhearted.” Her piece brings up the manly stereotypes our society assigns to men and disagrees, saying real men are sensitive and compassionate too. Amy’s words express this exact stereotype. She claims that “[her man] should be stronger than [her].” And what is his weakness she is complaining about (because strength can be interpreted in many ways)? Well, his lack of strength consists of putting her in control and needed to be comforted. Amy writes, “All I need is for my man to live up to his role,” even prompting the question, “are you gay?” Clearly, his failure to meet society’s stereotypical mold for a man is the cause of her dissatisfaction. Comparing the two works made me realize that women play a large part in promoting this stereotype. Many women, like Amy, would not think they’d like to date a “ladyboy.” Because of this, men have such great pressure to be macho. I’m not a rancher like Ehrlich, but I’ve come to a decent understanding of teenage, rather than cow, boys (being a high school student and all). From this experience, sure, boys poke fun at each other for doing more stereotypically feminine things; but if said feminine boy gets a girl, it doesn’t really matter. So it’s somewhat ironic that women have the power to imprison men within this tough stereotype – apparently men aren’t that strong. 

Blessed Big Time

“A quick jab to the head.” “A left to the head and a right and another left.” “a left hook to the head and a right to the head. It’s a left to the body and another left to the head. There’s a left cross and a right to the head.” Reading these lines from “Champion of the World” by Maya Angelou brought back memories from my own short lived boxing career. Although this passion of mine came to an end due to injury and the naturally changing path of life, my respect and appreciation for the sport will not fade. The new sense of discipline and motivation I gained were life-changing, along with the advice of my own inspirational Joe Louis – Lonny “Honeybee” Beasley. I had the privilege of training with Lonny, a champion boxer, regularly for a good part of a year. More often that not, if it was a Sunday, it was a morning spent with Lonny. Besides the “sit-ups for breakfast,” he fed me with immeasurable wisdom from his life full of experience. Long after I’m old without any trace of physical activity left in my body and when I can no longer remember the sound of his poorly hummed rendition of the theme from Rocky, the impact Lonny made on my impressionable teenage mind, through boxing, will remain. Boxing contains some sort of magic that allows it to transcend the limits of being considered a sport. It’s more than that. The way it will continue to shape my life in the days or months or years to come is still unclear to me; but for Maya Angelou and the rest of the African American community around her: boxing was equality.