"So when are you going to start this whole gentleman thing?" I was asked by mister Trumbull, a few days after telling him about my idea. And, in truth, I was hesitant. Where the hell was I supposed to start?
It wasn't as if I could just suddenly draw together a list of specifics needed to transform myself into a magically handsome gentleman of some forgotten age.
That would require effort.
A quick google search offered me a literary orgy of books about how to be a "modern gentleman". I even bought a few of them; and I noticed a common thread between them all. They were, for the most part, brilliant written - but they still left me wondering what to do in situations they didn't mention. What does a gentleman do when he's stabbed to death several times in a videogame? What is the full gentlemanly protocol for watching pornography?
By god, what shower gel would a gentleman use? (If they shower at all.)
And then I thought back to Trumbull's question. And thought "Well, I might as well get started with a rulebook. But one that has literally everything in it." This would obviously be a pretty ongoing project. How useful, then, I had a blog for that very purpose I could use to constantly update the rulebook.
And that's what I'm going to do. Or by god, I'll die trying (surprisingly likely considering how accident prone I am)
Gentlemanly Rule #1:
A Gentleman always keeps his word.
Wednesday 18 January 2012
Saturday 14 January 2012
In the beginning
It often troubled me about what's happened to the men in our society. Or rather, what'd happened to me.
There I was sitting in my pyjamas, trying desperately to write something brilliant whilst wiping Doritos dust from my hands; when a though occurred to me.
"God," I thought "I'd be whipped to death by the Victorians. To their men, I'm like a massive manchild." It didn't happen exactly like that, there were more swear words but that was the general gist of it. But it was sort of true. What was I to those men of action, with their proud manners and finely waxed moustaches? Why couldn't I be just like them?
So I thought I might as well be.
This blog is the product of that wish: To apply the old tenets to modern times and become a modern-day gentleman. Through this possibly traumatic experience I will be accompanied by my best friend Trumbull, who I've roped in. By the end of it (if there is an end) we'll either be truly upstanding human beings or quivering, broken piles of man. We'll be traversing love, fashion and altering just about every facet of our being in our solemn quest, with nothing but our own fortitude and a good cup of tea now and again.
What's the worst that could go wrong?
There I was sitting in my pyjamas, trying desperately to write something brilliant whilst wiping Doritos dust from my hands; when a though occurred to me.
"God," I thought "I'd be whipped to death by the Victorians. To their men, I'm like a massive manchild." It didn't happen exactly like that, there were more swear words but that was the general gist of it. But it was sort of true. What was I to those men of action, with their proud manners and finely waxed moustaches? Why couldn't I be just like them?
So I thought I might as well be.
This blog is the product of that wish: To apply the old tenets to modern times and become a modern-day gentleman. Through this possibly traumatic experience I will be accompanied by my best friend Trumbull, who I've roped in. By the end of it (if there is an end) we'll either be truly upstanding human beings or quivering, broken piles of man. We'll be traversing love, fashion and altering just about every facet of our being in our solemn quest, with nothing but our own fortitude and a good cup of tea now and again.
What's the worst that could go wrong?
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