The Warrior Ethos

            Within all of with alive or dead is a being that persuades us to be more than what we are. All have a spirit that haggles us daily for that little extra… something.  This journey is not one done alone, but often makes us feel lonely. The path that’s left unsaid but walked by so many. This is the ethos of the warrior.

            What is a warrior? A warrior is a way of life, a way of thinking, a way of being.  While others view happenings as a blessing or curse, the warrior stands tall as he or she only sees challenges. Challenge is the Holy Grail for a warrior.  It is this undying search to get better, be bested, only to arise and get better once again. The way of the samurai was not only to master war. They are an intriguing people. From the moment they wake they devote themselves to the perfection of whatever they pursue. In addition, one mustn’t forget that a warrior is called upon by a higher power. Which in turn comes down to the Japanese meaning of the word, “samurai.” Which is clearly a derivative of the Japanese word saburau, meaning, to serve.

            Warriors are forceful souls; they embody qualities of strength, courage and determination. Like Kings, Warriors are action-oriented beings, and therefore down-to-earth, single-minded and very willful. Unlike Kings, however, they tend to be more attracted to the cut and thrust of battle (whether real or metaphorical), preferring to just get stuck in rather than to stand back pulling all the strings. Carlos Castaneda says we choose only once, to be warriors or ordinary. We choose only once. Because choosing to be a warrior alters your fundamental approach to life.  

            A warrior never hopes, but he must have faith. Hope is powerless, useless... The longer we sit and hope the more time we waste, because the universe gives only what is sought, what is believed! But yet a warrior must have faith. Because at times not every path is clear, and not every enemy a fiery dragon. When the forest is dark the warrior holds his ground with faith that if he remembers the warrior code, the light to illuminate the darkness will come. The Warrior is a Believer. As Paulo Coelho says, “Because he believes in miracles, miracles begin to happen. Because he is sure that his thoughts can change his life, his life begins to change. Because he is certain that he will find love, love appears.”

            The mind of a warrior must understand that they are not perfect. Only that they must strive to be. They must only understand; that a warrior can both be a negative impact and positive to the universe around them. Given the darker, survival driven side of human nature, it has and still is common practice for some individuals, tribes, cultures, corporations and nations to use raiding, theft, looting and plunder as a means of gaining wealth, power or even survival. It is also intrinsically true that those from whom they take do not give voluntarily. Thus, some cultures have a warrior class that act as raiders while others have a warrior class that acts as defenders or protectors. In fact, the warrior often serves both roles, sort of like taking turns. Regardless, the strongest and boldest warriors are generally admired and enjoy an assortment of privileges within their own group. In our culture we think of medieval knights as generally being honorable and noble (except for the black knight, of course). The truth is somewhat less romantic. Proven by a heralded knight Bertrand du Guesclin saying:

             "We have ravaged women, burned houses, slain children, exacted ransom from everyone, eaten their cows, oxen, sheep, stolen their geese, pigs, capons, drunk their wines, violated churches… For God's sake, let us march on the pagans!"

            If he errs, if he wanders, if he indulges in self pity, if he complains... He does not despair. He knows that he is human, and he remembers the choice he made. He picks his sword back up from the ground, and resumes the path of the warrior.

            A warrior is not an ascetic. He does not deny himself the pleasures of conquest simply for the sake of denying them. He realizes that in denying oneself it is easy to think he is doing great things, when really he is just focused on himself. But neither is the warrior attached to these pleasures. He can walk away from them at any time, and sometimes he does, just to prove it to himself.

             These beings are disciplined, both internally and externally. Without discipline, they could not stay alive long enough to call themselves a warrior. They develop mental focus. No one can develop essential skills of dealing with life, protecting one's self or facing a foreboding opponent with an unfocused mind. They develop an attitude of persistence. They have to face difficulty, pain, discomfort, discouragement, fear and the prospect of failure and utter doom without quitting. All struggle and conflict is settled in the mind before it reaches a physical resolution. If their resolve wavers, failure and defeat are certain. For the warrior, the body is as important as the mind, because the two are inseparable. Danielle Bolleli writes “ A person who knows there is a wild wolf living under the skin has less reason to be intimidated by reality. Even when the power of the mind is in doubt, the body can provide tangible proof.”

            Perhaps, more than anything else, within every fiber of his or her being, the warrior is a leader. In Alexander the Great’s massive campaign stretching to become the largest empire the world had known to that point in time, mutiny had befallen his camp. Tired and weary of battle his troops wished to return home. Alexander did not blame instead he got off his horse and stripped naked saying:

            “These scars were for you my brothers. Every wound is in the front. Bring forth a man from your ranks that has bled more than I, or endured more for your sake. Show him to me and we will go home.”

            Not a man came forward. Why? Simple, because it was Alexander. His men erupted in cheer and begged for their king to forgive them for wane of spirit. They pounded their shields and pleaded him to lead them forward.

            A warrior fights for one reason alone: love. Love of life, love of what is good, love of family, love of tribe, and love of our infinite soul on the quest for impeccability. He lets love swell in his heart, flushing through every cell in his being until he cannot help but proclaim, like Cyrano De Bergerac, “I am going to be a storm -- a flame -- I need to fight whole armies alone. I have ten hearts! I have a hundred arms! I feel too strong to war with mortals. Bring me giants!”

Youth

I might be a bad influence; but here kids take this gem.
Parents agree or not but unlike you I only the length of this paper to influence them.

Will my peers opinions only matter when we're over 30, and in debt to the economy.

Is it then our parents will acknowledge our autonomy.

Is it because we'd rather send an email than a letter?
Take notes on an iPad than a ledger, and the more my opinions are posted online; they become more like the value of the american dollar. Lesser and lesser.
We text one handed, still hold conversations, while checking our news feed out of the corner of our eye all of this faster than we can write.

So let me welcome you to the coded generation.
The youth of YOLO since we only live once and take advantage of every situation.
So it's smh ttyl  g2g brb c2c and I know parent's are like omg idk
But the kids are reading laughing LMFAO.

We know the saying "Momma knows best."
But at some point she didn't so we need to update that to "Momma wants best."
However the youth could do better as to make Momma not stress.
But we both have different paths that blaze our trail to success.

Ask kids: You know we want what's best for you?
And we will agree naturally, but how do you expect us to listen to message you never addressed to us.
We know you want what's best for us, but some dumb things make you think less of us... like our appearance.

You don't want us to make the same mistakes, but if you ask us most of you still turned out great.
But you better get used to us, because you're looking at you future teachers and leaders.
You mumble Lord Jesus... but as long as you don't destroy this world first we will definitely give it a change.
Which is much needed.

But if you take a sip from the fountain of youth maybe you'd understand we're not all that different.
Let's replace Rihanna with Madonna
Lionel Messi with Diego Maradona
Sean Connery with Daniel Craig
Microsoft with Apple
Obama for Bill Clinton
You'd all have better understanding of my way of thinking.

Education: Students

Students!
How many times have you crammed the night of an exam
Filling your mind with dates, formulas, and quotes just to never use them again?
How many grades have you recieved that you were never asked about during an interview?
How many times have you remembered an answer too late after you'd turn in your exam?
Does the poor timing of your memory make you more or less qualified for a job?
Well on a application form it would have.
We all have different callings, talents, dreams, and genes.
So why is a classroom of individuals tested by the same means?
It comes to a climax when Jason thinks he's dumb because he can't equate sums, but can fix anything around the house.
Or when Susan can't write well, but can sing every song word for word after hearing it once.
And our schools have the audacity to have a policy on equality. Irony!

Don't let society tell you your worth
For this is the society of pastors that preach charity, but own private jets.
Parent's that want "educated kids" but won't/can't help with their child's homework.
Governments that speak peace, but endorse war, calling for people to pursue higher education and further learning. Yet they raise tuition every single year?

Our professors say our exam grades will be imperative for our success, and we believe them.
We were always taught to listen to our teachers, and yet if we take the teacher out of the equation who are we going to listen to?
One should realize we need to learn to think for ourselves instead of follow when misled.

Tests are tests, and finals are not final.
For they never prepare for life's test of survival.
This rant goes to those kids who feel his or her worth from that D or that A on results day.
The ones who found what they were searching for on google, tweeted to popularity on Twitter, pictured success on Instagram, liked there future on Facebook, my world changers and my dream chasers.
This one's for my generation.

So whether it's 74 or 63, 96 or 88 success is more than an option and these tests do not hold our fate!

Education: Parents

Can you hear me?
Is this message overlooked,
Because this message did not come from The Old Book
Nor was this message burning in a bush
It wasn't in a novel
Neither did it come in a floatin' bottle
This message is doesn't stem from millions petitionin'
or from the masses marchin' with their feet blisterin'.
So to get my message out I had to improvise
Put it on the net and watch it digitalize.

"I never had this opportunity when I was younger."
"Without school your mind will hunger."

"You need school to be successful."
"Your life will be a lot less stressful."

"It'll help you get a job."

"Make us proud."

"Education is the key."

All of which our parents say.
At the time we all thought it a help to our resume'
But now we know that our parents didn't realize this was a lie.
Since they don't know better themselves.

Even though our parents stopped helping us with homework in 6th grade.
Never used or applied the pythagorean theorem, pathetic fallacy, or the preamble to the constitution.

Parents will rely on standardized testing to value their child's intelligence
who may actually have the sharpest mind in the school.
They will listen to a boring teacher who encourages those test and believe their child
is hyper active, misguided, and unfocused.

The error in the way is that society grades the students' worth
but this is the same society that says abortion is wrong, but looks down on teenage parents.
Need I say more?

Eisenheim the Illusionist: What’s Real and Illusion?

            The concept of what is "real" and what is not has plagued and delighted man transcendently from past, and will continue to do so after the present.  In this "high-tech" day-and-age, we have conformed to believe that what we call technology is in fact "real"; that the flickering images on our televisions are caused by definable means, that the processes completed by computers have more to due with science than with the enchanted. An indication of the flirtation with conflicting forces brings the words of a theater manager in “Eisenheim the Illusionist”:

            “Life and death. Space and time. Fate and chance. Theses are the forces of the universe. Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a man who has unlocked these mysteries. From the furthest corners of the world where the dark arts still hold sway he returns to us to demonstrate how nature's laws may be bent. I give you Eisenheim!”

Our highly specialized minds have taken away from us the spark of imagination and the wonder we once each possessed as a child.  In Steven Millhauser's short story "Eisenheim the Illusionist" part of his collection The Barnum Museum, the childlike quality has returned.  As Eisenheim's character is revealed to the reader, the line between reality and fantasy entwine more and more until that line no longer exists.

            Steven Millhausers short story, “Eisenheim the Illusionist” also known as “The Illusionist” has an almost academic tone to it, as its narrator refers to old eyewitness accounts of Eisenheim and his performances (from critics, audience members, neighbors, et al.). The narrator’s acknowledgment of his uncertainty lets us trust him more: aren’t we more inclined to believe a person who appears to present us with the facts, rather than a clod declaiming his own interpretations as fact? But Millhauser’s direct language also lends credence to the most farfetched ideas:

            “Some said that Eisenheim had created an illusory Eisenheim from the first day of the new century; others said that the Master had gradually grown illusory from trafficking with illusions.”

            Eduard Abramowitz, Eisenheim's given name, is born halfway through the nineteenth century to a talented cabinetmaker.  Well on the way to becoming a craftsman himself, fate intervenes in the form of a traveling magician, mystifying young Eduard and subsequently awaking Eisenheim into existence.  The boy begins to drift more toward magic and illusion, practicing new talents and exercising old ones.  He combines his talent for crafting with his desire for magic to create devices for illusions; such as "A small beechwood box, with its secret panel, was able to withstand the most minute examination"(216).  In his early twenties, Eisenheim appears in more and more private appearances until one day, "As if suddenly, Eisenheim appeared at a theater in Vienna"(217).  This marks the beginning of the transformation of Eisenheim.  Until now, Eisenheim had been a cabinetmaker performing tricks on the side.  He now is to be a full-time magician.

            Once in Vienna, Eisenheim begins focusing solely on his art.  As with any profession, he has to pay his dues.  In this case, he begins to imitate variations of already prominent acts, except Eisenheim always has to do something bigger.  "It was clear that the restless young magician would not be content with producing clever variations of familiar tricks" (219).  Eisenheim, now including original illusions in his act, emerges at the forefront of magic.  His act begins to take on dark characteristics.  The illusions he produces himself include "The Tower of Babel," "The Satanic Crystal Ball," and "The Book of Demons" (221).  In one original trick, "The Pied Piper of Hamelin," where Eisenheim leads children from the audience to a cavern, only to have them reappear in a black chest, "a frightened child told his mother that he had been in hell and seen the devil"(221-222).  This begins the second change in Eisenheim.  He has now become a powerful magician of whom it has been said, "that Eisenheim was not a showman at all, but a wizard who had sold his soul to the devil in return for unholy powers" (220).  At this point the reader is challenged whether to think that Eisenheim is merely a talented and convincing illusionist or if he had in fact allowed the "supernatural" into the story. 

            The next change occurring to Eisenheim comes at the appearance of a worthy rival.  Ernst Passauer is the name given to the magician who threatens Eisenheim's stranglehold on the elite magic world.  Both men thrive beyond normal expectations of the day.  "It was as if the two of them had outsoared the confines of the magician's art and existed in some new realm of dexterous wonder, of sinister beauty" (223).  With each man performing at the same venue, the inevitable rivalry comes to a boiling point during what would become Passauer's final performance.  That night, after a performance of "frightening brilliance," Passauer begins to make the contents of the stage disappear.  Once everything has vanished, "he burst out into a demonic laugh, and reaching up to his face he tore off a rubber mask and revealed himself to be Eisenheim" (225).  Now the story has shifted.  What is the reader to believe as "reality"?  The tone of the story has shifted none, and yet the reader who believably is reading an account of a magician is thrown a fantastical situation.  The realm of magic that Eisenheim lives in has seeped into the context of the story, blurring what's "real" and what's not in the mind of the reader.

            The twist that the story takes on next is nothing less than inexplicable.  After a yearlong sabbatical, Eisenheim returns again to performing for people.  His new illusion, however, nobody is prepared for.  Eisenheim sits alone on a stage blemished only by a wooden chair and a small glass table.  The illusionist takes his seat, "leaning forward slightly and appearing to concentrate with terrific force" (227).  After a time, the space in front of him begins to blur, until he has, presumably, created a small black box.  The box, upon inspection by an audience member, does not have any physical properties, other than it can be seen.  Eisenheim then proceeds to create a ball and a wand, each with the same unlikely characteristics as the box.  Eisenheim's following performances continue to defy explanation as he conjures into existence images, his most popular being Elis and Rosa who, of course, become friends (233).  At this point, Eisenheim's shows consist of him in deep concentration while these masses appear and interact with the audience.  As the story states that these images can find no explanation, "reality" has become one with illusion.  If the reader is to take this story in as an account of a renowned magician, then he/she has to believe the progression of Eisenheim from master illusionist to manipulator of reality.

            The final act and transformation of Eisenheim proves to be the most enigmatic.   While the plot of the story thickens, Eisenheim comes into conflict with the watchful eye of Viennese Chief of Police, Walther Uhl.  "The official reason given for the arrest of the Master [Eisenheim], and the seizure of his theater, was the disturbance of public order" (234).  The night of the organized arrest comes and twelve uniformed policemen where in attendance of the show.  Eisenheim begins his show as he would any other night, but when he invokes Rosa into existence, the police make their move.  The policemen make their way to the stage where they pause (out of respect, or fear?).  When Eisenheim neglects to get up, Police Chief Uhl goes to grab him by the shoulder.  "That was when it happened: his hand fell through Eisenheim's shoulder" (235).  Eisenheim then turns to the audience, bows and begins "his unthinkable final act: bending the black flame of his gaze inward . . . Wavering, slowly fading, he stood dark and unmoving there" (236).  Eventually, Eisenheim is no more. 

            Little is known of the magician Eisenheim’s origins, other than that he is the product of the late Austro-Hungarian Empire and its appetite for stage magic. As with every character-related story, the character goes through a change, development or transformation.  In the case of "Eisenheim the Illusionist," he simply grows dark and ceases to be.  Who began as a cabinetmaker's son transformed into a magician, who transformed into an awe-inspiring manipulator of minds, who vanished his atoms from existence.  As Eisenheim grew into his magic, he needed constant competition.  When he outgrew his competition, he created his own.  When he outgrew himself as a magician, he was no more.  In this amazing story, Millhauser creates a character that transcends his own mind and being. Is the illusion in the disappearance of Eisenheim, or in the creating of Eisenheim?

References

Ingersoll, Earl G. "Film Magic: Neil Burger's Film The Illusionist And Steven Millhauser's Short Story "Eisenheim The Illusionist." Latch: A Journal For The Study Of The Literary Artifacts In Theory, Culture Or History 4.(2011): 89-109. Humanities International Complete. Web. 1 July 2013.

Millhauser, Steven. Eisenheim the Illusionist. New York City: Poseidon Press, 1990. Print.

Silver Reflect

Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the prettiest of them all?

Look at my hair as it flows too the floor

For whose eyes sparkle more?

Whose skin is smooth as silk?

The lines above have given me a bad name for I do more than that.

I come in many forms but I do the same in all.

You look at me and see yourself, walk away and look again.

It’s almost like your looking at more than just what you’re wearing.

You are searching for answers  but find none

For I am the reflector on the wall.

You take your daily stroll and see me filled with leaves for it is Fall

Yet through all the distractions you still look into me and see yourself

You bend over me and hope I can show you other than the fishes.

As you reward me with your tears, that fill me up more than the heaviest downpour

It pains me to see you leaking

Disappointed you turn your back to me and walk away.

However I continue faithfully and reflect that as well.

You come and goe

For I am the reflector made of water.

I am silver and refined, I am wet and natural.

I am brutal but I will not lie

What you see is how it is.

I am addicting for those conceited and those looking for more.

I show you what others will not tell you.

I am your most infamous friend and greatest fiend

Look at me, shatter me, Either way I will always refect

What is true?

So What Am I To You?

Cycles

Narrator:

“As the sun beams down

So does the moon elsewhere

Being different places simultaneously

Yet they both see what’s similar.

As they trade places

A quick conversation takes place.”

Moon:

“I pierced down on a diseased world

A world that there is no cure for.

Perhaps you too see as I see.

Those who believe they are sheltered by the night

And prey on the weak.

Little do they know the weakest of my rays

Illuminate their action.

If only one with colossal power could prevent this inevitability.

This cycle is wrong

For death know longer terrifies men.

For they take and give it as they were Gods.

The smell of death is as common as roses.

The procession of funerals is more common than weddings.

So much so that the line of savagery and sensibility

Has blurred together by the colors of Hate.

Few guided by reason, some by logic, most by emotion

Those numbers equate to destruction.

Salvation still burns however for every day you (Sun) arise

Another chance does also.

Let there be salvation on your end.”

Sun

“Agreed.”