Recently I was at Gaggui browsing a leaflet for Kinokopla. I had an oat milk latte in front of me- typical, that’s what I always order, but what can I do? It’s the best in town in my humble opinion. As I was tasting the first sip from the cup, I heard myself think: “I love this coffee.”
Then it kicked in, the thing I always do: I analyse and philosophise until, at least ostensibly, I reach the so called ‘truth’. This time the question was how can I love a cup of coffee? Do I love the cup, or the coffee– or maybe both of them together? What does it mean to love? What does the term ‘love‘ actually mean?
So, my mind told me that I love a cup of coffee. Of course, I’m not using the term ‘love’ in the sense that I would actually like to marry the cup of coffee; maybe in a very poetic way I could make love to the cup, or the coffee. In any case, it seems that love means so many things to me, and that’s a beautiful thing? Right?
No, I think not: it’s confusing as hell. If I want to talk about something, I want to know what I am talking about. If the word has power to refer to almost anything, what does it then mean? Or more importantly, what does the word love refer to in reality?
It seems to me that the word love does not refer to anything real anymore, rather it refers to ideas that are created (and perpetuated) in the media: romantic TV-shows, books, movies and endless songs on love and break-ups. So, the word does not seem to refer to anything tangible, but rather to fictionalised ideas about it: reality has disappeared under the word love.
Furthermore, its reference point seems to be a certain kind of mental image cooked up by the media, so it really does only refer to reality through this fantasization. This brings to mind Slavoj Žižek, a Slovenian philosopher and social critic. Žižek once said that whenever he has watched Cinderella he has wished to see Cinderella 2, wherein the romantic climax would slowly fade away. The couple would settle into everyday life, and, maybe, start to hate each other and divorce. That would indeed be a counterbalance to the over-romanticised picture of love that Cinderella and similar stories sell to us.
So, if I suppose that Cinderella was indeed in love, I am tempted to ask was that feeling to last forever? Is love unchanging and without an object? Does love last eternally? What colour is love? How much does it weigh? How long does it last? Is love a person, is it a form, or an action? Is love just a fantasy? To what does it refer in reality? How can you get it? Where can you buy it? Can it be obtained? More importantly, can it be beaten up until it is unrecognisable? Yes, it can!
Humanity as a whole has exploited and manipulated the term ‘love’ and put in a heart-shaped chocolate box. I would like to sue the whole of humanity in court for manhandling the word love into meaninglessness. I have seen these misconceptions causing a lot of unnecessary pain in many people’s lives. Therefore, nowadays, every time the word love is used it has to be defined carefully, because it can mean anything.
I’m Lovin’ It