adiaforon

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La donna è mobile

It’s fair to say that, once one has taken the Red Pill and has allowed its medicinal qualities to course through your veins and cross the blood-brain barrier, you never see the world of women and relationships in the same way again. Yep, a platitude.

In my life, I still think it’s funny when, at times, I reflect back and see that I whiffed the Pill here and there even from a younger age. It wans’t called the Red Pill back then, of course, and I took a different Red Pill when I started studying philosophy in earnest. I’ve never stopped. I just had other priorities in my 20s besides da wimminz.

Classical music one of my passions. I highly recommend that all younger guys out there get smart on the subject. Not only does it make you look more educated and well-rounded, but you can learn valuable lessons.

Take Giuseppe Verdi, one of the great opera composers of the 19th century. 2013 is the bicennential of his birth, so this post is quite relevant.

Rigoletto, one of the mainstays of the standard opera repertoire, had its first performance on March 11, 1851 in Venice. The story is about the Duke of Mantua, his hunchbacked servant Rigoletto, and Rigoletto’s daughter Gilda. As with most dramatic literature of the time, someone usually dies, and in this opera, it’s Gilda. Gilda dies because Rigoletto is out to get the Duke for advances against Gilda, but also because of a curse put upon Rigoletto. Of the many women that the Duke has seduced, one of the husbands curses Rigoletto. The curse is manifested in the last line of the opera.

One of the famous arias of the opera is “La donna è mobile” (“Woman is fickle”). Sung here by the Mexican Tenor, Rolando Villazón:

The words are as follows, in original Italian:

La donna è mobile
Qual piuma al vento,
muta d’accento
e di pensiero.

Sempre un amabile,
leggiadro viso,
in pianto o in riso,
è menzognero.

La donna è mobil’.
Qual piuma al vento,
muta d’accento
e di pensier’!

È sempre misero
chi a lei s’affida,
chi le confida
mal cauto il core!

Pur mai non sentesi
felice appieno
chi su quel seno
non liba amore!

La donna è mobil’
Qual piuma al vento,
muta d’accento
e di pensier’!

And in English:

Woman is flighty.
Like a feather in the wind,
she changes in voice
and in thought.

Always a lovely,
pretty face,
in tears or in laughter,
it’s untrue.

Woman is flighty.
like a feather in the wind,
she changes in voice
and in thought!

Always miserable
is he who trusts her,
he who confides in her
his unwary heart!

Yet one never feels
fully happy
who from that bosom
does not drink love!

Woman is flighty.
Like a feather in the wind,
she changes her words,
and her thoughts!

Now, how many of us haven’t though the same thing when we were growing up? A proto-‘sphere text if there ever was one.

Mind you, the Duke sings this at the top of Act 3. He makes a compelling point in song, but one wonders whether he hasn’t dug himself in this hole through is actions. A ladies’ man he definitely is. But, at what cost?

Imagine what this aria would be like if all the women had smartphones and Facebook.

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