A friend at work asked me if I would like to spend Saturday evening in his company. He's a rough diamond, and has two traits which I find the most admirable in a person: honesty and kindness. Therefore, amicably, I agreed to. However, although I was aware of the fact that the last time we had a drinking session, we came to cross purposes (at which point I began reciting Christopher Marlowe by heart [Faust'] and when things got really bad, I did an impeccable Joe Pesci impression from the movie Casino) I trusted that things would be alright. They were not.
Despite the man's great traits, which include discretion - very important - he is an Aries. Mars, god of war (and agriculture). I am an air sign, ruled by Mercury, and when air fans the flames of fire, a conflagration happens. I am like little Ronulus, a terrier: indomitable. However, seeing as that wasn't working (no amount of being assertive helped, and one is never aggressive, even in the face of aggressive vitriol and cursing: which he did, like a goddamn tyrant or dictator) I tried a different tack: passive humility. I was sincere, and tried to calm the situation down, but to no avail. The man is not particularly well read, and even as I had had enough and ignored him, he took offence to me reading silently (Seneca's tragedies). Ignorance is a pest. It is darkness.
The whole argument was over rugby (of all things). There is a player that is very heavy handed, a French player, and one whom I quite liked when I was in my youth. Then, at a party in France one night, a rugby aficionado (more well informed than I am) quite rightly stated that this man is, "A very bad player." When I asked him why, the answer I received was because the man is not a gentleman, he is not honourable, he does not engage in the sport in the spirit all sports should be. Being a good sport. Winning with grace and humility. Fair play. These things are important. But to this splinter of the god of war (Mars, or Aries), this man is an outstanding player (because he is excessively aggressive). With all the humility in the world, I tried my best to soothe the situation, dial it down, establish a measure of peace and harmony: all to no avail. Curiously, I had just translated these lines of Latin before I left for work:
No soft breeze warms with cold wind, nor do light
Zephyrs blow out the flames in people’s hearts.
- Seneca, Oedipus 37-39.
Max.
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