The double standard we’ve created in our society is like standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, either rim, and looking to the other side. The harrowing death that awaits a fall from either foothold is the noose around our neck that’s been created in the wake of the #MeToo movement and grossly all-too-common reports of sexual abuse.

These causes are right and fair. These women need to be heard and the monsters that harassed them dealt with. But on that side of the canyon, one can see from the other side a world where this type of behavior is seemingly acceptable — though not based in reality.

The problem lies in what C.S. Lewis would label as our penchant, as human beings, to be far too easily entertained. Lewis takes his cues from the Christian worldview, and whether Christian or not, the truth of what he says spans the vast expanse of all humanity. This is not a theological or religious discourse, it is simply a humanitarian undertaking. Though spoken with a spiritual undertones, the words of Lewis ring very true in our current cultural paradigm.

Here’s his quote,

“We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

In light of the recent sexual abuse scandal that occurred at Michigan State University, and among the barrage of victims in Hollywood that have recently found their voice to speak out against their terrorizers, it seems as though we have a cultural pandemic.

But have we been conditioned to be this way?

This is not meant to excuse the behavior of these horrible people; monsters that devalue the humanity of someone else for their own pleasure, but a simple question. Does our entertainment, ironically produced in the place that is the main source of these #MeToo issues, create for us a hypocritical approach to sexual abuse.

Again I ask you to envision the Grand Canyon.

On one side of the canyon are the horrific and dehumanizing acts of these men that have violated their countless victims. On the opposite side are Hollywood productions of shows that almost celebrate characters that are nothing more than one-and-done womanizers.
Now, it must be stated from the outset that I have found enjoyment in some of these shows too, but, at the same time, have also been uncomfortable with the outpouring of sexual abuse in our culture.

But maybe that’s the problem. I am the hypocrisy.

I am not trying to take the the moral high ground here and point fingers at society, while forgetting that I am a part of the problem. I love shows like How I Met Your Mother, Mad Men, and Friends. And, I will even continue to laugh at the characters on those shows that are intended for comedic purposes. But there must be some kind of correlation between the entertainment we partake in and the calloused nature we’ve approached sex with.

Take for instance, Barney Stinson — the King Player of New York City — on the show How I Met Your Mother. His entire character is built around the idea of casual and non-consequential sex. We laugh at his jokes, because they are funny — and because Neil Patrick Harris’ delivery is perfect — but, why do we celebrate his actions?

Have we become far too easily entertained?

I am not saying we should boycott shows that promote such a calloused sexual message, but what I am saying is maybe we shouldn’t be so surprised when it actually starts to jump from our television screens and “alternate realities” into the forefront of our true realities and culture.
We celebrate playboys, look nonchalantly toward one night stands — because we’re simply sowing our wild oats — but yet, wonder how anyone could act or do what these terrible men have done. By oversexualizing our culture we have become a walking hypocrisy.
The fix is in a changed mindset — and it starts with the men in society.

Recently, the Wall Street Journal wrote an article about the lack of gentlemen in our society. Maybe this is where our issue starts. And, I might argue that our lack of gentlemen stems from a lack of simply good men. And, now raising a young boy in this world, this concerns me the most.

Being a good man is simply about respect. Respect for yourself, respect for your culture, but also, respect for your fellow man — especially women.

“A gentleman is good to women because he has his own dignity and sees theirs.”

Gone are the days where the notches on your bedpost count. Who cares about notches on a bedpost when your name has been dragged through the mud, your reputation sullied, and your life ripped to shreds because your actions were less than honorable.

Honor and respect should be the name of the game that any gentleman plays, because it is about the humanity of the other person and the value they bring to a given situation, rather than their performance in the bedroom, that matters most of all. And this should also be true of the entertainment we partake in or produce.
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It is time we take up for these victims and do our best to help them heal, as a society. But it is also on us, as that society, to stop celebrating the “little boys” who can’t keep it in their pants; truly celebrating the best of the men among us. “Where have all the good men gone?”, the old questions asks. They’re still around, just being overshadowed by the ridiculous lifestyles of the little boys — who live louder and flashier (which makes for good social media posts) than most — who are constantly acting like they have something to prove. Something, a gentleman never has to do.

It is time we raise our standards for entertainment and social decorum. Because if we continue to feed the beast of hypocrisy, epidemics will continue to flourish. The standard must be raised and it must be raised by all of us. For what a sad epitaph will be written for this society that all that can be said about us is that we were “far too easily pleased”.

Start Date: October 12, 2017
Finish Date: January 7, 2018

When I first decided to read Ian Fleming’s James Bond series, I came to it with a preconceived notion. That notion was the man I had seen portrayed as James Bond on the silver screen of Hollywood. However, I would soon learn that this was not the James Bond of Fleming’s books. 

Naturally I started with the first book, Casino Royale, because I’m kind of O.C.D. about things like that. I always try to start with the first book an author wrote, especially in a series — which I know may be the most obvious thing to people. I can hear you now, why wouldn’t you start with the first book in a series? Trust me, there are some maniacs who don’t. 

So I called my local Half Price Books, and they had a copy; I went that night to pick it up. It should be noted that I have a bad habit of starting multiple books at once. When I picked up Casino Royale I was currently reading Hank Greenberg: Hero of Heroes and John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley. Both of which took a bit of a backseat to James Bond — naturally. 

Fleming writes in a way that is easily captivating. The chapters are short — something you notice right away. This allows one to read a chapter at a time before bed, rather quickly — which is how I attacked it, until the last day. The fact that Fleming is an Englishmen also took a bit of getting used to, as some of the grammatical structures we’re used to in America do not hold for British grammar. However, this is merely an observation. 

Almost immediately the reader is introduced to the spy we all have come to know, especially if you had the N64 GoldenEye game. From the outset the spy we are introduced to showers in cold water, places a hair over dresser drawers to ensure no one has spied on him, and dresses to the nines — just like in the movies. Yet, it is here that most of the similarities ended. 

Not once did Mr. Bond introduce himself, “Bond. James Bond.” Nor, did he ever order his patented Martini, “shaken, not stirred.” Nor, did Bond exuded the kind of confidence that the actors from Sean Connery, to Pierce Brosnan, to Daniel Craig possessed. But, once the reader comes to this conclusion, the book is thoroughly enjoyable. 

The tension is palpable throughout the entire book. The reader picks up with James Bond at a casino, preparing to face of with Le Chiffre, the villain of the book. The action builds to their showdown, where the reader is introduced to the first difference between Fleming’s Bond and that of Hollywood. 

During a game of Baccarat, Bond loses. He is demoralized, not exuding the usual Bond confidence, and is reeling, believing to have lost his job. He then is handed a second chance, beats Le Chiffre, and then places the winnings in his hotel room. It is after this victory that Bond decides to take a run at his partner, the beautiful Vesper. She denies his advance — another difference — and is kidnapped by Le Chiffre. All of this action happens by the middle of the book. 
The rest of the book is Bond’s pursuit of Vesper and Le Chiffre, where one would expect a typical Bond move — freeing the girl and winning her affection. The former happens, while Bond is captured himself, and the latter eventually comes to be. 

While in pursuit of Vesper and Le Chiffre, Bond is eventually overtaken by Le Chiffre’s goons, and taken captive. He does try to free himself, but is bested by the bigger of the two goons — yet again not what I knew Bond to be. Eventually Bond wins his freedom, through the vehicle of someone else, and he and Vesper ride off into the sunset for a couple day stay at a beach-side inn. 

It is here that the last of the conflicts take place as Vesper and Bond are locked into a rather high schoolish on-again-off-again sexual relationship. It is during this time that the climax of the book happens, and Bond is left once again by himself calling into headquarters. 

This book contains Constant action and a very easily read story. It is hard to put down once the reader becomes invested. 

Fleming’s Bond is different than the Hollywood version, but that doesn't make it a worse version. Fleming’s version of Bond is portrayed as an actual human being. He has flaws, falls in love, and isn’t immortal. In short, Fleming’s Bond is accessible to the reader. And that makes the entire book worth it. 

As someone who has enjoyed the Bond movies, there is always a little piece inside of me that wanted, or rather wished, that he was James Bond. The ultra-suave talker, the man who wears his tux, and orders his martinis “shaken, not stirred.” It’s pure fantasy, and maybe that’s why it was always so attractive. We tend to always be moved and inspired by those things which are fantastical. 

But Fleming’s Bond is an everyday spy, that does have special training, but is someone that you could model yourself after. The realism in his character is evident from the start of the novel, and that always makes for the best type of literary character. One that we, as the reader, can relate to; the type of guy we could actually see ourselves being — with a particular type of training, of course. 

So to Ian Fleming’s Casino Royale, I would definitely raise a glass. It’s a wonderful read that grabs the reader and never lets them go. I am excited for the second book, Live and Let Die, as I sip on my martini while reading — shaken not stirred, of course. 

Memorable Quotes: 
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“…patriotism comes along and makes it seem fairly all right, but this country-right-or-wrong business is getting a little out-of-date. Today we are fighting communism. Okay. If I’d been alive fifty years ago, the brand of conservatism we have today would have been damn near called communism and we should have been told to go and fight that. History is moving pretty quickly these days and the heroes and villains keep on changing parts.” — James Bond

“Surround yourself with human beings, my dear James. They are easier to fight for than principles.” — Mathis