Octavia Hansen

Hara-kiri . . . or . . . Do It Yourself



Posted: Thursday, December 22, 2011

by Octavia Hansen
Octavia Hansen

Hara-kiri is ritualized self-violence that has more depth than can be probed by Western Philosphy. Basically Hara-kiri is a ritualized suicide, the last act after loss of honor, impending defeat or as an order from a Lord. It can be understandable in the face of defeat, with possible slavery and torture looming in a bleak and/or short future. This final act has come down through centuries of Oriental civilization and much like meditation and religions will never be fully understood to anyone born outside this mind set.

Japanese soldiers were known to have done this, people who did not want surrender in WWII were praised for this, and later some Japanese Olympic athletes had to be talked out of it when they did not bring home a gold medal -- they considered themselves shameful by not winning. This ceremony is practiced in some other countries, called by different names but the ending is the same, when done correctly. Apparently, there have been those who did not perish and lived in disgrace . . . how much more disgrace can anyone take?

When a more local felon decides to take his life rather than go back to prison or face the ultimate sentence, it sometimes is ironically referred to as "the easy way out." Can there really be anything easy about this final act?

It has to be the height of civilization to have a ceremony for suicide. A ritual complete with correct dress, witnesses, helpers and some kind of documentation of the deed, even though it is considered the final end to a shameful act or life.

BUT . . . I always have other thoughts: as long as society has rejected you or you are snubbing society, don’t you wanna free style it out? The idea of following any kind of last rule or regulation into total finality has got to be the height of stupidity. By being at the end of your rope as it were, what's one more thumbing your nose at society? What are they gonna do? Make you do it again? Make you do it over until you get it right?

For everything that goes into this blood bath (literally) who decided what is wrong and right at the very end of what is ultimately your life? Did someone's tailor or girlfriend pick out the right costume? And was a doctor consulted as to the most advantageous use of the blade? People aren't built the same . . . a fat man will be harder to cut than a tall skinny guy.

And what about all that clean up? A living organism is just packed full of organs and blood. This is a right mess, even when done correctly. As long as you are making your way to a higher plain, could you make it easier for those of us not going along for the ride? Can this be done outside so everything can be hosed down after the show?

Let's face it, it's all for show and men dreamed this up. Every woman I know would say, "What? You want me to do what? Because of what?" For everything that women do and have had done to them, every woman would stand if not in side splitting laughter but at least in amusement that anyone, most importantly them, would ever consider this a viable option. Yes, there are women . . . Juliette for one, Mary Todd-Lincoln, Billie Holliday, Marilyn Monroe, and possibly Princess Di, to name a few, who might be talked into such foolishness, but not as many as those who would turn the sword on the one suggesting such a nasty end.

All for honor. What exactly is honor? One of my buddies put it simply -- honor is what you have when you don't have money. A good name? You can buy a good name. Or you can change what you have so it sounds better. Joe Green became Giuseppie Verdi -- see how easy it is to sound honorable? You can't eat it. It probably won't pay the bills. Supposedly, it gives you a good night's sleep -- where? The back seat of your car or under a bridge -- yea, that's worth being honorable over.

Like just about everything else in this world, it comes down to personal taste and morals. Do you? Don't you? Will you? Won't you? Me? Hara-kiri? Nah, I'm more interested in Harry Caray, legendary Chicago Cub's broadcaster that never harmed no body.
Octavia (Yes, that's her real name!) is a busy gal in Las Vegas, NV. From New York City parents and Texas birth, she began in the best of both worlds, literate and comical. Extensive US family travel in her younger years, now she's on her third passport and numerous cars driven to pieces in the name of wanderlust. The Big O settled in Las Vegas, which she compares to running away to join the circus - IT'S FUN! Comedy and alternative thinking come easily. When she's not writing, she sings, she writes songs, produces her own CDs, attracted to shiny objects, looks stunning at renaissance festivals across the country and is only stopped by lack of time for all the projects she has in mind. What a woman!
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Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)
» left by Christofer French
 126 days ago.
71 fans.
Loving your elegant logic and towering comment about a topic that many would not even try to work with. Good job and your humor comes through as always.
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