My childhood was fairly typical for any kid that grew up in the powerhouse decades of 1980’s and 1990’s America—the last great generation where kids were able to explore and raise all kinds of hell under the banner of kids being kids. My group of friends was also somewhat typical, a consistent four friends with a reoccurring cast of characters that would filter in and out of our adventures. We did everything from backyard sports to constructing river-worthy rafts made out of whatever building materials we would see laying around houses in the neighborhood that we felt were not being utilized to their fullest potential by their actual owners. In other words, we were the kind of kids that if we saw a rope not being used in someone’s yard, we repurposed it for whatever Huck Finn plan we could concoct. But we were not inseparable. There was often division among us. One of us would usually have a dispute with another kid in the group and ultimately try to pit the others against the ostracized individual. It was a rotating conviction and rarely did it ever work out where someone took the side of the kid on the outs (though it did happen a few times). Those cases would usually escalate to fights and occasionally parents calling parents on the phone to agree on punishments which always consisted of being grounded.
In those days of punishment—where I was supposed to think about what I did—I came to realize that not all friendships are meaningful. I liked my friends, but it became obvious to me that my group of friends were not exactly like the archetype of dependability that I had come to know from the books that I read (while being grounded). Of course, all friends fight. Disagreements and fighting are a part of human nature. What we fight about and how we chose to resolve it are the pillars of what holds the friendships up when the tides of conflict rise. I knew my friendships were more Lord of the Flies than Lord of the Rings. I knew that when push came to shove (as it often did) we would skip right over conflict resolution and right to conflict; that the adolescent angst for alpha supremacy was not something that would result in an unbreakable team like the X-Men in the comic books I read or the 300 Spartans from the Encyclopedia Britannica that I would get lost in reading.
The Battle of Thermopylae has always gripped me as a testament to manliness, masculinity, brotherhood, and devotion. From the first time I read about it in the encyclopedia, through reading Frank Miller’s 300, the tale of the 300 hundred Spartan hoplites holding off the Persian army of King Xerxes was/is to me the embodiment of brotherhood through friendships. I do realize that the total forces of the Greek resistance was closer to 6,000 (with collaboration from the tribes) but there’s a reason that King Leonidas and his 300 Spartans are mentioned more throughout history. They were an elite fighting unit dedicated to defend their land and each other to the death. Part of what made them so effective was the use of the Greek phalanx. To borrow from the 2006 film 300:
“We fight as a single, impenetrable unit. That is the source of our strength. Each Spartan protects the man to his left from thigh to neck with his shield.”
Public Domain, Jan. 1, 1881
That kind of thinking is what earned the 300 Spartans their place in history. It’s also that kind of thinking that should be taken into consideration when you’re looking at your circle of friends. Is the man to your right going to protect you while you’re vulnerable? Is that man capable of protecting you? Are you willing and capable of protecting the man to your left to ensure your circle is a single impenetrable unit?
It is said that you are the sum of the five people you spend the most time with, presuming that’s true, what does that make you? What does that make your associates? Are you happy with that, or could you strive for more? In today’s age of the Kali Yuga it is vital to have dependable friends to keep in your phalanx. While in most cases your phalanx will not need to be a literal shield wall of combat against aggressors, but you should have enough faith and confidence in your circle of friends to perform as one in the event that they would need to. If you don’t have the kind of faith in your closest friends that they will be willing to go to the ends of the earth with you, fight against any enemy for you, and value/honor your friendship over anything, then those are not friends. Moreover, they are not worthy of your phalanx.
Are your friends more interested in X-Box than worshiping at the altar of preacher curls?
Drop ‘em.
Are your friends more interested in American IPAs than they are American muscle?
Drop ‘em.
Are your friends willing to don the apparel of Lord Humongous and ride with you into the wasteland when this American experiment collapses?
No? Drop ‘em.
In this life we only get one shot to live victoriously and we cannot have that opportunity watered down by anyone not willing to help us (in any/every way) reach our goals. And the same needs to be said for you/me as well. If we are not willing—and able—to protect the man to our left from thigh to neck with our shield, what good are we to the group? The order of the phalanx demands an approach to conquering life’s obstacles with an insanity that rivals anabolic rage of an Ultimate Warrior ring entrance. When life gets hard you’re going to want that kind of support from your closest crew. When someone encroaches on your holy quest to victory, you’re going to want animalistic resistance as retaliation to what violates your mission. So look to your right and assess if that man is going to be that kind of friend that is willing to go beyond Thunderdome for you. Then look to your left and ask yourself if you’re willing to do the same for that man. If the answer is “no” to either of those instances, you’ve got work to do.
(Dedicated to the memory and mission of Billy O.)
