The Kingdom of Ends

Oh, dear. What does it take to make me walk out on Britten's War Requiem, that magnificent work of pacifist disgust at war and hope for what's beyond? Ungentlemanly behavior, that's what. Metal Ox has failed the tests of Kant's Categorical Imperatives many times, and the Requiem Failure will have to be his last; especially, preceded as it was by the Comply Sexually or be Spurned Failure of last weekend. "Act only according to that maxim by which you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law." If such is the thought of Metal Ox regarding the treatment of women at concerts and in bed, then he will have to proceed in his delusion sans moi. Later I may tell the story. At present I am recovering. Just imagine this: shocked by his ungentlemanly and manipulative act I walk off, wordlessly, through the suits and pretty dresses, the gold leafed white and soaring walls, the buzzing promise of the music to come, in the direction of the ladies room, then lo! -- beyond, and continue out the side door of the symphony hall and to my car, leaving him to, I suppose, take a cab home. I am giddy with the power of finally taking care of myself.

And then The Chef takes me in for the evening and we have wine and the best fresh peach cobbler (thanks, Uncle) I have ever had and wonderful talking -- girl power!

See, Kant argues (as I understand it) that once all layers of motivation (material gain, sexual favors, feeling good about oneself, etc.) to do good are peeled away, the person acting from true duty, a truly higher or unselfish purpose, is the person who acts to help others for no other reason than it is the right thing to do. Metal Ox, it seems to me from the way he treats me, always wants something in return. It's a tit for tat proposition. He can't do something for me without expecting something in return. And no matter what I try to give him, it's never enough, or it's not the correct thing. He wants me to dust his house even though I'm allergic to his cat. He doesn't want me to cook for him, even though I'm really good at that, because "Banquette can do the same thing." He is in both of these things either disregarding my health or devaluing my gifts. Also, he knows I would cook for him even if he wasn't doing me any favors, so that lessens the cooking's value even more. In no case is my love and comapnionship enough. Ever. He doesn't even seem to get satisfaction from taking care of me or helping because it makes him feel good, which puts him in some pretty superficial layers of motivation. The point is, though, that all this mathematical relationship record keeping is not about giving and loving, it's about getting something back or else not expending the energy, and that's just not how I want to approach things. And so I say: he has failed Kant's test. This is The Kingdom of Ends. One is to never treat another person as if they are a Means (I will do X for you if you will do Y for me; I will spend time with you because it will get me Z; etc.); one is always to treat another person as if they were an End (you exist therefore I will do X for you; you are the reason I do X for you; doing X for you is right, therefore I do X for you). When one behaves in this latter way, one is eligible to be part of the Kingdom of Ends, where one dwells in the higher realms of true Reason. I love this trope.

I may be over-simplifying Immanuel, or otherwise misreading him. If you're reading this, Ms. Reason, or any other Kantian, please correct me freely.

Now, I must thank Ms. Reason for her reminder of my love of Kant, she being a Kantian scholar and one third of our newly minted Smart Pretty Girls Club, that mold being struck by our poet-scholar Princess and first enacted on Friday night, thanks to the grace and goodness of her compelling parental units and their gorgeous home. What fun! My God, I love Pretty Smart Girls. We are to read Iris Murdoch's The Sacred and Profane Love Machine, which I am so far, fittingly, loving. And the scope of possible discussion with these two seems endless. And they're pretty! Do you know how much fun it is to watch pretty people talk smart? I could do it forever. I do have to thank Tim for the meeting of The Princess. What a boon. (Of course I like to watch pretty boys talk smart, too -- but where are they?)

My girl cousins have also been quite charming and lovely, lately. Ms. Oklahoma sent me the most fabulous package of Arbonne products as a thanks for helping her daughter with a crucial college paper -- whoopee!!!! You can't imagine how happy this present makes me. And my skin already looks better, I swear to God. And Ms. Miami has been the steadiest and most glowing of lovely moral supporters, in so many ways, since we started emailing. The only sadness is that we see each other so seldom, of course. But this is the modern sadness. Communication without contact. Unless you believe that the heart chakra opens, receives and gives without regard for physical space. Which I do. And so there.

And my daughter, lovely thing that she is, so helpful and sweet and there she is giving me a BBQ grill for Mother's Day! How perfect! If only I could see her more, too. And then my mommy, always the lifesaver, waiting patiently for her pearls (they're in the mail, I swear!).

And, UPDATE!: My lovely son got me Guitar Hero II for Mother's Day! How many mothers can say that, eh? Huh? Tell me? How many! It am sooooooo happy! This is the best music game ever!

I am all aglow with good will toward my fellow women, and my son. I am open to feeling aglow toward my fellow men, but it's a little less on the surface right at this moment. Still, good luck, Metal Ox. I do love you, but I think you might be crazy in the not so good way that makes me feel unsafe. And in my personal Kingdom of Ends, which I hope is universal, well, that's just not what one should will.

I draw a bath, enter the water as a god enters water:
Fertile, knowing, kind, surrounded by glass objects
Which could break easily if mishandled or ill-touched.
Everyone knows an unworshipped woman will betray you.
There is always that promise, I like that. Kingdom of Kinesis.
Kingdom of Benevolent. I will betray as a god betrays,
With tenderheartedness. I've got this mystic streak in me.

--Lucie Brock-Broido, from Domestic Mysticism