We
are complex creatures with hidden rooms in our mansion, some doors bolted,
others ajar.
Kobe
Bryant is as competitive an athlete as there is in professional sports. When he
loses he doesn’t slam the water cooler or talk trash. He sits down at his piano
and plays Moonlight Sonata. Kobe channels Ludwig!
Hedy
Lamarr, born Hedwig Kiesler in Beethoven’s Vienna with his music
running through her veins was the paragon of movie glamour in the years before
and after WWII. Her face was an ode to behold. Fellow actor, George Sanders,
remarked that when she spoke one just
watched her mouth moving and marveled at the exquisite shapes made by her lips.
We were all startled to learn that she was also co-inventor of a process known as frequency hopping which
prevented jamming of torpedoes aimed at enemy ships.
The
U.S. military never did use her device. In the Pacific the Japanese navy was in
shambles by 1945. Their most effective weapon was human sacrifice in which 4,000
died in the Samurai tradition using their plane as coffins. Kamikaze pilots were
a precursor of today’s suicide bombers. In missions they called Floating
Chrysanthemums the Japanese managed to sink 47 U.S. vessels and damaged 300
others. Fortunately 86% of their attempts missed or were shot down.
Surrender
was tantamount to shame and dishonor while their flaming death was perceived as
a glorious act. Many of them composed poems sent to their families. Here are a few fragments of poetry left behind:
Green grass dies in the islands
/ to be reborn verdant in the homeland.
How could we rejoice over our
birth /But to die an honorable death/
Maybe Beethoven has that effect on people. Listen to his music and anything can happen.
If you immerse yourself long enough you will begin to brood and be unfit company having dwelled in your shadowy places. At the same time you will dare the outrageous and see glimpses of the numinous.
Beethoven showed us the back side of ourselves, the untamed and disowned. He released from us sonatas and odes, the mathematics behind a chiseled face, the poet buried inside the zealot.
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