Monday the 25th I exit class having just heard Professor Sexson’s story involving his newspaper friend. The day is gorgeous and I think of how I can be outside to enjoy it. I make my way down to the duck pond, sit on the lone bench and absorb the sunlight.
The only object of entertainment I have on my person is my Ovid’s Metamorphoses. I have not been an honest student as I have not finished reading the stories. Having heard we would be going over Baucis and Philemon, I thought now is as good a time as any.
I hear someone say my name and I look up to an acquaintance and we ask the usual “how are you/work/life?” questions. As we talk a mother walks up with her toddler son and a loaf of bread. They begin to feed the ducks. If you haven’t fed the ducks I encourage you to witness the sheer chaos it causes in their duck community. My friend and I watch the ducks in their frenzy for food and eventually my friend has to leave. I open to the page and begin to read Baucis and Philemon.
“Half mere, half swamp, once pleasant countryside
But now a region of wild ducks and reeds.”
No way does a description like this come up while I sit at the duck pond. Who went back in time and told Ovid this is where I would read this story?
I continue to read the story and draw similarities to an old couple from my hometown that I have grown so well to know, that I now call them grandparents. Their home for the past 50 years has been known as the most welcoming home in town. Both earned citizen of the year in my home town this year. I picture this old couple dying peacefully at the same time much like Baucis and Philemon.
“The story I told you came to me
From a respectable old man who had no motive
In telling lies,…”
Can you read those lines and not think of professor Sexson? I mean it’s a TRUE story.
The mother calls out to the son, feeding the ducks, “Jason, time to go,” Does she know? Is she familiar of the Argonauts? Is that why he has that name? With no more food, the ducks resume their rested state as before.
I receive a phone call while sitting on the bench. I received a summer position that I had gone through a lengthy process for. I feel euphoric with hardwork and connectedness of the moment. I warn you that I am a Disney geek, and there is a story about Walt Disney’s favorite song, “Feed the Birds”, and at this moment in my life the story has never made more sense. It is a song by Walt’s dynamic duo, the Sherman Brothers.
The late Robert Sherman recalls:
“On Fridays, after work, [Walt Disney would] often invite us into his office and we’d talk about things that were going on at the Studio. After a while, he’d wander to the north window, look out into the distance and just say, ‘Play it.’ And Dick would wander over to the piano and play ‘Feed the Birds’ for him. One time just as Dick was almost finished, under his breath, I heard Walt say, ‘Yep. That’s what it’s all about.’
My Displacement: Stone
As Patwin approaches the cement factory he knows only of the vast wealth held by the owner Lexicon. Lex was known as “The Giant of Cement” in Chicago. Lex stood 7ft tall and was known for his miser and hermit like behavior. As the sun set over the factory and the skyline of Chicago, Patwin Carried a crate of goods and knocked on the cement factory door three times. The sliding peephole opened and a deep growling voice asked, “What do you want?”
“Am I speaking to Lex?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Under the assumption I am speaking to Lex,” Patwin responded “I am looking for a place to spend the night, and my father claimed you owed him a favor,”
The voice quickly retorted, “What a joke, I owe no one a damn thing,”
“I am the son of the gun maker, known only as the creator of the Thunderstick,”
With this information the cement giant stumbled back.
Many years earlier the Giant was a young man, enthralled by the travelling circus that often came to town. One year he spotted an unattended tent. The wind bellowed the curtain entrance as if begging the young man to enter. As he entered he felt a haunting presence overcome him. A gypsy sat opposite a crystal ball gazing into what seemed the very soul of the man. The man quickly stammered, “I’m sorry, I seem to have stumbled into the wrong place,”
The gypsy, in a slow foreign accent responds, “No Lex, it is no coincidence that you are here,”
In bewilderment Lex felt trapped, “I have no money to offer I…”
“I will make an exception for you,” The gypsy said with no falter, “Sit, and Let me gaze into the life that awaits you.”
As the gypsy gazed into her crystal ball she seemed pleased by what she saw.
“You will be a very successful business man. A giant of sorts. A Rockefeller of your industry.”
Enthralled by the claims the man was left speechless.
The gypsy abruptly sighed, “I do however see a falter in your success. The wealth that you acquire will be lost to that of the son of thunder.”
Lexicon had heard enough at this point and laughingly took the warning as a joke. He left the tent and mumbled under his breath, “Old fool”
Lexicon then responded to the awaiting Patwin, “Very well, I will offer you rest here”
As he opened the door Patwin entered and marveled at the vast operations that lay in the warehouse infront of him. A completely automated cement factory. With no need to leave, Lex had set up an apartment, in the warehouse, overlooking the operations. As they stood in the apartment Patwin set down the crate.
The two sat the small table in the apartment, talked and told stories into the night. A statement slipped from the mouth of Patwin. A praise to his god that angered the 7ft tall man that was before him.
“You will leave, and go so far away that these stories seem true. So far away that you get protection from your deceased father!!”
With this Lex flipped the table before them and dove onto the unsuspecting Patwin. Wrestling on the floor Lex quickly reached for his gun and stood, in front of the door, over Patwin. Posed to kill Patwin, Lex cocked the gun and asked, “Any last words from the son of thunder?”
Patwin quickly reached into the crate he had brought, pulled out the head of Maleficent and responded “no, but she might”
Maleficent, being one of the three Gorge sisters, inherited an old Chicago gang and ran it as she saw fit. The former mob Boss of the Gorge had been known as a ruthless lady. She was known as the black mamba, slaying any male who wished to accompany her. Her beauty was known to stop assassins dead in their tracks, but not Patwin. Patwin admired her only through the mirror that sat on her dresser, emitting a soft light onto the face of the Mistress. And as he gazed through the mirror he shot the ruthless leader through the heart she could not love with.
Seeing the deceased face of pure beauty, the Giant stumbled back out the door of the apartment. Slipping, the man fell over the railing. Falling into a giant steaming vat of concrete, the giant had become the very stone he sold. He’d become the sidewalk which we walk on, and the buildings that tower in the sky.
Signs and Sybols vs. Inception (spoilers)
After our talks in class I have noticed how frustrated people have become with the lack of closure. some of my favorite movies have lack of closure because it leaves you to decide the ending. One ending that irked me the way Signs and Symbols did was the movie Inception. At the end of the movie you are lead to believe that the main character is no longer in a dream state and happily living with his family. The main character spins his “totem” which tells him whether or not he is in the dream state. The totem spins on the table, you notice it falter a little but stay on course, and then THE SCREEN CUTS TO BLACK!!!
I was so torn up by this ending that I almost threw my movie popcorn at the screen. We will not know if the man is stuck in the dream or not. I immediately went home and scoured the internet to find the answer. There are very convincing arguments from both sides, but alas much like signs and symbols… There is no answer….
Dreams
I often nap during the day. My nap sessions often lead to pretty intense dream. One of my reoccurring dreams involve killing zombies in the Walking Dead universe. I am one of those people who has the same dream over and over again. Every time I have this zombie dream I get eaten at the end by a big nasty zombie. Recently I turned in a lot of paperwork to better myself in school and future jobs. It was a giant weight lifted off of my chest. I had the zombie dream again this week and finally vanquished the guy that usually gets me. Its amazing the impact of relief and stress on our subconscious. 
My Version of Hugging a Tree
I am a Disneyland nut. I have an annual pass, and know mythology within the park that most people take for granted. My friend and I run around the park and often need a break. One of our favorite places to stop is Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room. Outside of the main theater room, there is a pre-show displaying the gods of Hawaii. There is this a main tree, Tonga-Roa, who is the father of the gods. “from my limbs, let new life fall,” his narration says. If I could hug any tree it would be this one
Coincidence
In our discussion about coincidence I had a flash back from when I was very little. I was a big car fan growing up and one of my favorite cars is the Chevrolet Corvette. My parents and I would point them out driving down the road. One time my mom commented that she we see corvettes of every color but white. From that point on we saw nothing but white corvettes. Everywhere we went white corvettes were around. When you are looking for something it is very apparent. With this message I know I, looking for mythic clues, will find them everywhere.
Las Vegas: The City of Bacchus
Last weekend I went to Las Vegas with my parents for an annual rugby tournament. On the plane flight I was casually reading Ovid, specifically the stories of Bacchus. My dad and I often walk the strip for fun. We were staying in the Mirage and we decided to walk through Caesar’s Palace. My senses explode with all of the mythic clues in Caesar’s. Outside the gods are presented with giant statues of marble, inside there are shows involving Poseidon and Zeus. The one that strikes me in particular is the statue of Bacchus. The more I think about it the more I think Vegas would be Bacchus’s playground. Where else would the god of merriment and wine fit in? He is a bad ass and I can see him owning a casino with an iron fist. He would party up a storm but make him mad and he takes your money. My dad eventually pulls me away from the statue and we continue down the path to our hotel. 
The Definition of Envy
I read book two about ten days ago, and I keep going back to page 55 in our book to reread Ovid’s Definition of Envy.
“for Envy never
Smiles unless she sees another’s misery;
Envy is sleepless, her heart anxiety,
and at the sight of any man’s success
she withers, is bitten, eats herself away”
-Pg55 of Ovid’s metamorphoses
This blew my mind when I read it because often we get jealous of other’s accomplishments, and then judge ourselves accordingly. Looking at this quote has helped me look at my own self worth and know I don’t need to compare my worth to others.
Thought Behind Action 