"Not all men seek rest and peace; some are born with the storm in their blood" - Robert E. Howard.
M. Howard from whom I shamelessly steal the above quote was the man who "created" Conan the Barbarian. It was a very long time ago, and many of us have only accessed Conan through the films starring the former governor of California. Giving the books a read, or a listen in this digital age is worth your time. After all, sexting your boss at 3 a.m. is starting to get old, and you have to try to better yourself as a human being right?
There is a school of thought that rest and peace will allow you do that. I mean hours of study and self-reflection, if properly done, will advance your knowledge (if you study the "right" stuff), and make you more fun to talk to at parties that you probably don't want to attend. Reflecting upon the mysteries of life, and using the right 'detectives' to help you unlock them is a grand undertaking. Aristotle, Plato, all the Greeks will help, but don't forget the Philip Marlowes of the world. The allegory of the cave is a wonderful thing, and there is a lot of life lessons in it to be learned, but The Big Sleep has a lot of more gritty life lessons that you will need to learn as well, especially if you want to get your hands a little dirty. Peace is also a wonderful thing, we all want peace right? Civil unrest, and disorder start to strain the seams of society. However don't forget "the Romans create a wasteland and call it peace." Peace can be a tricky thing, and no all men are made for it. Hindenburg and Ludendorff were pretty necessary for Germany in World War I, and they were not men of peace. Conan is not a man of peace, he is a man of action, and a lot of people think that peace is not an action it is the lack of action.
A nice warm study with a volume of Voltaire is not for the men of Conan's ilk. They can solve the mysteries of the universe if they want, but Conan is out in the universe. Discovering its mysteries by running amok in it. Most men will spend their lives in quiet desperation, reading about the adventures of Conan, and men like him pondering what they would do if they had the balls to do what Conan does. Some might try to "arm chair quarterback" Conan, and point out his 'mistakes' and what they would have done differently to get the girl and the treasure rather than sacrificing one to save the other. That is easy to do with a glass of fine brandy in one hand, and your cock in the other. Any damn fool can point out the errors of others, it takes a different kind of fool to realize that many times those mistakes make the story. These 'men of peace' aren't going to risk anything more than tripping over the cat on the way to the bathroom, and certainly are going to go barrelling around the world in a loincloth with a sword looking for dragons to slay, and women to 'rescue' (whether they need it or not). Perhaps, if they think about it enough these fellows will understand the fact that the warm study, the glass of brandy, and even the cat exist for them because of men like Conan. Maybe they are hyper-aware of the situation of the world, and maybe they appreciate Conan and his kind. Probably they don't, that is why the term barbarian gets stuck to him. They look down their long noses at his savagery, and tut tut his actions as the actions of an uncivilized boor. However, they overlook the fact that without boors like Conan, they probably would have been gored to death by a boar a long time ago.
Take some time to think about the circle of people you loosely call your friends, is there a man or woman (this is the 21st century after all. I for one, wouldn't be upset at being rescued by a 'storm blooded woman') among them? Would they consider you to be that person? Are you all men of peace? Are you all men at peace? Of peace and at peace are very, very different things. Men like Conan may have moments in their lives where they are 'at peace' they are probably never 'of peace'. The storm in their blood doesn't work that way, and it shouldn't. The storm in the blood is there since birth or at least it develops at a very young age. Conan (since his is fictional) is lucky he lives in the Hyborian Age that gives him ample chance to unleash the storm in his blood, and plenty of dragons, snakes, and other monsters to slay (even the human kind). Being more 'civilized' we are unlikely to take up sword and loincloth and go racing to the 'rescue' of the damsels in our lives. Most of us would look shockingly bad in a loincloth, and probably couldn't lift a sword over our head for the life of us, and more than likely the damsels don't really need rescuing in the first place. Polite society, or at least the idea of it, can be rather boring for men with the storm in their blood.
That is the unique thing about this storm, it might can probably be suppressed if you struggle hard enough. That struggle is hard (as a proper struggle should be), and you're never to know if suppression is the 'right' decision. You have to realize that once unleashed the storm is not going to be "put back in the bottle." You unleash the Kraken that is the storm, and you are no longer a man of peace. Storms like that aren't like punk ass bitches of hurricanes that lash a coastal area for a couple of days, pouring rain down on poor citizens, and flooding them out of whatever hovel they call home, and then disappearing inland to go out with a whimper. No this storm is not a novelty, it is not something that you can control any longer. It is the surge in your blood that is going to put you on Conan's path. It is, in some ways, a declaration of independence. A way to tell the world that you aren't going to be bullied anymore. It is also probably going to cost you. Maybe it will cost you the job that you pretend is a career. It might cost you the girl that you are pretending is the 'one'. It might cost you the hovel you are pretending is a home. It might cost you that circle of friends that you are pretending are your best mates.
But in counter weight to all those losses are the potential gains. Don't be confused and fall for the trap of thinking that Conan doesn't have moments of mind numbing terror, he does. Don't think that Conan always get the treasure and the girl, he doesn't. Don't think Conan lives the high life, he spends a lot of nights "sleeping rough" without a copper to his name. He doesn't sleep in a lot of soft comfy beds. He sleeps where he can, and shitty inns with vermin infested beds and kitchens are the norm rather than the exception. Don't think that just because he has the balls (so to speak) to run around in a loincloth that Conan doesn't have his own doubts, he does. He just doesn't let them control him, they may occasionally slow him down, but they don't stop him. Don't think that just slashing the monster's throat always solves the problem it doesn't. The monsters outnumber you on a staggering scale, and those so called men of peace are creating more monsters daily. You, and your kind, will always be outnumbered. The siren's call of the 'storm in your blood' life can also be a dirge. A dirge to the comfy beds, the steady pay, the decent food, and the steady, uncomplicated relationships (yeah right) that make up your placid life. It is a decision that one would think must needs to be made, but in reality indecision can be just as much of a decision as an active unleashing of the storm. You may 'choose' to suppress the storm, and/or not act upon its call. Not choosing it is just as hard of a decision to make. It creates a duality in you that is not always going to be pleasant, and is probably never going to go fully away, or be fully resolved to your (or anyone else's) satisfaction.
Perhaps Howard had the storm in his blood, but living the in the early 20th century, he realized the chances to chuck it all over, and go slay dragons were very limited, so he created Conan. I doubt Conan was his alter ego, and I am not familiar enough with Howard's works to attempt that kind of deep analysis, I am just stealing a quote from him, and fashioning a stupid blog post around it (that also doesn't need any deep seated analysis). Maybe Conan gets a lot of the girls because Howard only ever had one girlfriend in his life, and that didn't end well. Neither did Howard's life, at around the age of 30, distraught over his mother's slipping into a coma from which he was told she would never awaken, he walked out of the hospital, and blew his brains out with a pistol. Not the happiest of ending for a man who created a legend, but all stories can't end with the half naked girl wrapping herself around you while you look over the carnage you've created with your broadsword. The storm exacts its own price, and you just have to be willing to pay it, no matter how high of a price it might be. It takes courage, but sometimes the game has to be worth the candle. I wish you luck.
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