Long past, first times I was angrily asked “What were you thinking?” I had no answer due to thought not having been conspicuously involved in the questionable activity. Doing often comes without thought. I’ve often been left to say “It was a good idea at the time.” This statement says thought was not present. People (myself included) frequently “do” for deeply private-personal reasons they’ll justify with ardor. Wanting a certain status or particular others to approve of us is reasoning minus thought. Want and wanting is the needy-need driving much.

But here I am, a hundred words too wordy with little benefit. I have neither explanation nor excuse. Or do I? A little? Instinct (is it sensibility) often has me look back as a guide. My recent use of Marco Polo is a reminder of roughly the same game and similar players.

Way back middle ages when little was known of the wider world our Marco told a futuristic account of Asian city, Vochang. In that enlightened metropolis a birthing being immediately changed places with its mate who’d then take over cuddling and nursing the infant for (images of Noah) 40 days. Too long for any baby to survive without feeding, the birthing being slipped in to take care of that, but otherwise were Vochangians gender fluid and non-patriarchal?

One wonders the fate of Vochang, how it worked out and why its practices didn’t spread. Also way-back modern (at least the British Museum and Wiki-land thinks so) is Elagabalus (so called after the deity he favored). Groomed as a boy-priest of the deity, a coup placed Elagabalus on Rome’s throne when he was 14.

The fun began as you’d expect of a manipulated child handed power as he swung into puberty. Those wishing a puppet emperor got other than wanted with young Baby Balus’ diving ever deeper into opportunity. Multiple wives, including one Vestal Virgin, and male favorites, Baby B was a busy boy, indeed. Insatiable in lust and power, the emperor required devotion of his deity, loved being called mistress and woman, and inquired for a surgeon able to slice him a working vagina, something even a wizard could not give. Sad ending. The wild boy ruled four years until his (or do we say her) excesses brought another coup. Elagabalus’ rule was not a success, but no cause for us not to admire and copy he-she today. Is it?

Further back yet was Zeus (rarely if ever confused with Hera), who assumed a birthing role regarding Dionysus, who Zeus carried to term in a slit in his thigh. Despite this, Zeus seems to have lost none of his masculine potency or paternalism, so maybe he (a definite he, I’d say) is not the best modern example of cutting-edge gender progress. If only we had a Zeus thigh to examine, a new Holy Grail for the enlightened to seek. I’d appreciate that result, wouldn’t you? The search for Zeus’ thigh would rival the old-Egypt quest for all the parts of dismembered (literally and figuratively) Osiris.

But perhaps modern questers (or devotees) are more selective, skipping over Vochang and Zeus but accepting Elagabalus into the fold. I personally feel Virgin Mary qualifies, but am equally sure she’ll be ignored as not representative of what needs be represented in the scheming of things.

After the above examples, I make only a simple point. If you’ve something to prove there’s a way to do so. To deny or counter it works the same. Good-sounding reasons are found. We sapiens are quite adept at discovering what we’re looking for, even if not there, we find it. Miracles. Enemies. Threats. Paradises. Sin and salvation. Humans find what we want to find.

Interesting example – archaeologist looking for evidence of native habitation walked right over the debris of early European (Portuguese) activity – didn’t see what was there because it wasn’t being looked for.

Indulge me. Rather than wade the bog of the many ways to truthful dishonesty (much dark organic muck there) consider why some among us are so drawn to muddy shores. Western ancestors, Greek and Roman, thought those who pretend for profit, prostitutes and actors, were unfit for citizenship. A harsh stance, but why would an honest soul blindly trust anyone in a profession of untruth? New wisdom says honor pyrite pretense good as gold; color itself seen as sufficient worth.

A poet now avoided wrote “All that glisters is not gold.” Professional purveyors of pretend prefer more options for deceit. No gold standard for them, except in pocketbook, theirs not yours. But, I miss and point there too.

Finding understanding in confusion is no calm or easy task. Do we look for leaders in that? If so what kind? A strong leader is often (and justly) feared for finding too much enticement in power they’ll be overpoweringly tempted to abuse. But would a weak leader be better?

If we see the strong leader as a single-minded unwavering mate and the weak version as a lover wanting to please many, maybe, then, in that some sense emerges between choices of monogamy and promiscuity. The strong leader gives her love to the select elect. The weak (if position matters) lays down for any, does that mean all? Which lover-mate suits you better? Which do you want?

But recall that both (as am I) are frauds, false lovers, actors, pretenders, charlatans, sham and fake. See why an Ancient might have so detested (and feared) the actor and prostitute as deceptions too pleasing for one’s own good? I s’pect we have to live with confusion and learning the hard way. A few, however, indicators might be. Underlying beliefs are not infallible but a clue no less. If, as some beliefs have it, the world is made up of agreement and outsiders you can suspect everlasting conflict as the one-true strives to consume more.

Similarly, if five times daily you’re told rejoice for not being a cursed enemy of the only-true belief you’d expect this millennia long incitement to be a cause that if you were a Jew you’d know too well, often preferring to not.