Seemed like a good idea...

I think defeating Nega-Jeremy would depend on whether or not he has the same weaknesses I do. If he does, defeat wouldn’t be simple.

My first thought would be to employ a lady friend who doesn’t mind being a tease and then setting up some sort of Rube Goldberg-inspired trap. The problem with that, of course, is that the Anti-Jeremy would probably turn her to his side. Because, he’s like me, but without morals.

I think the only thing that could work is to distract him and take him out quickly. Maybe with some strawberries fondue, or something shiny. If I give Jeremy Through the Looking Glass any time, he’d probably convince me of how much fun we could have in this city. I’m not saying I’m a short hop, skip, jump from being evil. I’m not saying that because that would sound pretty bad.

Chances are, I wouldn’t succeed. I’d probably turn. At least for a while. Then, as I start feeling like I’ve gotten in over my head, I’ll regret my decision and just as I’m about to take him out, he’ll get me first, having seen the turmoil in my face.

The take-away point is this: if I don’t take Evil Jeremy out in the first few minutes, I’ve signed my own death warrant.

Maybe that’s why I tense up around people who look like me?

Empathy. Without a question. I’m pretty sure I was born with it. Or, at least, developed it very early on.

I’ll give you an example. Personal Preference.

This is a game my family owned when I was young. The basic premise is this: every turn, one person draws four cards (from some combination of the categories of: Food & Drink, Activities, People, and Potpourri [miscellaneous]) with a person, thing or activity on them. They place each card in one of the four coloured quadrants on the board and then secretly sort four cards corresponding to those four quadrants in the order of their personal preference.

The other three players then have to guess that order using four numbered squares. For every one they get right, they move one space.

Nobody in my family would play with me. Because I cleaned up. Every. Damn. Time. When I didn’t know, I’d extrapolate from what I knew about people. If I couldn’t extrapolate, I’d read their faces as they considered and sorted.

I also think empathy has allowed me to be a pretty charming person. That and a penchant for honesty and being forthright. I know what people need or want to hear, and, if I believe it myself, I’ll say it. Seems a waste, otherwise.

I sometimes feel like an inability to ignore my sense of empathy has driven so many of my good decisions in life. However, it has definitely gotten me in a lot of trouble. Mixing a strong sense of empathy with a tendency towards codependence is a recipe for a lot of difficulties.

Languages. I would love to have a natural gift for learning languages.

My ear for pronunciation is pretty good (so say my Chinese in-laws), but it takes a long time to pick up vocabulary and tricky grammar rules.

I’d love to travel the world and speak fluently with random people I meet. I get a kick out of making people happy that I’ve made an effort to communicate with them. Even with just the small efforts I make when I travel now, people are so much more open, lively and talkative, sharing things that make exploring the world more unique and interesting.

It would be great for looking for jobs, doing contract work and making business deals.

I’d use knowledge of one language to inject more poetry into the words I speak and write in other languages. Learning how to make a sentence flow in a way not commonly done.

I’d love to woo women from all over the world. It would remove the most significant barrier to communication, leaving me to fumble endearingly with local customs and learn so many different ways to approach romancing.

Honestly, I might have preferred the tech question.

If people can get divorces at a corner shop when they go out to pick up milk, does it devalue the institution of marriage? I don’t think so. Sure, I think it devalues that person’s concept of commitment, but not the institution.

I don’t think that the higher rate of divorce is necessarily a bad thing. I think it points to a trend that we have not, as a society, come fully to grips with, yet. Only a few decades ago, divorcing a partner you didn’t feel you could live with or who didn’t always respect your individuality was significantly less common. Nowadays, the divorce rate points to the double facts that young (and older) people still make quick decisions about love, but also that many people respect themselves enough to know when to separate. I would much rather a two-fold increase in the number of divorces than an increase in the number of unhappy couples in the world.

What does it say, then, when a couple marries and remains so? Maybe not happily all the time—striving for such a state is probably insane—but remaining together because of a mutual recognition that it is, at the very least, better most of the time to be together than apart. Amid a significant divorce rate, it doesn’t necessarily mean that a couple’s sense of commitment is stronger. Because, it may only mean that this couple does not have to sacrifice individuality for their relationship. That’s just it, though, isn’t it? Remaining married while other people drift apart does not mean you are better at commitment, but it may mean that you can love and care for another person and be warmed by their personal growth.

I don’t mean to suggest that being in a common law partnership is less significant. For some people, this is an ideal option. Marriage is, after all, an institution. It has a history. For some, that is linked to religion, or to old concepts of legal possession of women. Many people will take understandable issue with that history. I don’t undervalue the connection of two people in a common law partnership simply because there is no contract. They are still a couple, they most likely pay bills together, work apart and come home to each other.

It is only your opinion as to the meaning of marriage that matters when you, yourself, choose to formalize within that contract. For me, I think our wedding was a public ceremony with our family and friends that felt like a declaration, both a public one and a private one I made to her. An expensive declaration, sure, but a declaration nonetheless:

This is the woman I cannot live without. When either of us are worried, sick or scared, this is who we will turn to for comfort, support and the energy to strive on. I hope that one day she will bear our children. I hope to live with her until we are old and gray.

Did I really need a wedding to make that statement? No, not really. However, I am a fan of big gestures. Though I try to reiterate these feelings to her as often as I can without seeming weird, doing so in front of our community feels more binding and more meaningful.

Very little has changed since we got married. Very little in the way of obvious transitions in our relationship. We had lived together for a few years before we were wed. According to the laws of Canada, we were already in a common law partnership. What has changed has been under the surface. As much as I felt that I was connected to her before, I now am more so. My triumphs are hers, also, and hers are mine. Her sorrows deepen my resolve to win happiness for her.

If I had been forced to choose between staying with her, unmarried, and losing her completely, I would not have taken the space of a heartbeat to choose. Marriage is only a contract when you get down to it. It is the relationship it is built around that is the point. If she had been unwilling to marry, I would still be taking that commute home to spend the evening with the woman I wish to spend my life with.

I am going to stop writing, as I have begun to ramble. I may not have presented a convincing case for marriage in this world, but that was never my intention. If it were something that carries meaning for you, then it should continue to do so. If it was something you were against, being satisfied with common law partnerships, then I support you. Perhaps it may highlight some of the reasons some of us still choose to step before a rabbi, a priest, a JOP or what have you and participate in that institution of marriage.