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After approximately 800 years in the business of courtship and romance, bringing together billions upon billions of lovers, through war, famine, drought, economic hardship, unforeseen obstacles and reality television, Chivalry has passed away. Chivalry, known to many colloquially as the code of male ethics, was born in the early medieval age, though its ancestors have existed in more primitive forms for as long as humans have existed. With the bougieist of upbringings, Chivalry blossomed into its fullest form amongst the royal and noblest members of society. Focusing on service to others, it became known throughout all the lands as the epitome of valor, honor and most importantly, courtly love.
While most things we experienced as tots in that headiest of eras seems pretty self-explanatory (plaid was everywhere, Leonardo DiCaprio was the molten ball of light around which the solar system turned, and there was no color too bright for your sweatpants) there are some things that will be a bit harder to explain. Here, a primer for when your future children want to know what the hell you were doing with your boxy, multicolored electronics. 1. Topanga was at some point in human history considered not only a legitimate first name for a human being, but the kind of name that would inspire in malleable teenage boys a life-long infatuation. Topanga, in our day, was leading lady name-material.
You know those people you’ve met a handful of times at social gatherings and each time they pretend that they’ve never met you before? Yeah, those people suck. They extend their hand to say, “Oh my god, hi. So nice to meet you. What’s your name?” and you reply with, “Um, we’ve actually met a few times.
Moving on is not like a birthday, you can’t count down the hours ‘til it arrives and you can’t mark it on a calendar and you can’t call up your friends to help you celebrate. You can’t plan for it and you can’t conclude it by blowing out a candle. When moving on happens there will be no announcements, no notifications, no congratulations. There will be no parade; only you will know.
As we all know, few things have grown more worn down and shoddy with overuse than the words “I love you.” When strung together, you could elicit everything from what a couple says before they slip a ring onto each other’s finger, all the way to a sorority girl’s proclamation to the roommate she’s “married” to on Facebook. The term has lost some meaning.
Hearts drawn on misty windows and pieces of paper torn from notebooks. Jagged edges. Or edge. Bits left behind in a 10-inch spiral.
After years of observation, I’ve identified six discrete stages of pop song addiction. Stage One: The Highbrow Scoff This is the first — and most self-congratulatory — stage of the process toward full-fledged, seemingly irreversible addiction. A song comes on the radio, and — almost impulsively — you make that god awful scratching noise with the back of your throat — the same one Becky made in tenth grade when that new girl from Menlo sat next to Steven in fifth period and “had her boobs hanging out all over. I mean, seriously, is she that desperate?”
Listen, I want you to truly appreciate my sustained effort to pretend to be a reasonable human being. I’ve gone days without texting you, multiple days without texting you, three whole days without texting you. The cumulative willpower illustrated by this should leave your mind utterly boggled, exceedingly boggled. You should be thinking, ‘What an astounding display of confidence.
Picture this. You’re sitting around your living room with some friends and someone comes in, an acquaintance perhaps, and starts filming you. You’re not sure why. Do you do exactly as you were doing before the camera entered the room? Or has your behavior changed — what you say, do, how you interact with others in the room? Cameras necessarily shift social dynamics.