Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know

Kleinheider got me thinking about Lord Byron, who, frankly, was a shitty poet. The Complete Poetical Works takes up almost 900 pages, and yet, the man only had a couple of good poems*. But the man could score women, even by proxy. I, for instance, got on a plane for the first time in my whole life seven years ago to fly to Boston to see the man who emailed me:

And wilt thou weep when I am low? Sweet lady! speak those words again: Yet if they would grieve thee, say not so-- I would not give that bosom pain.

Why? Who knows? Why do bass players cause the girls to swoon? Why does a nice fitting suit, especially a tux, make almost any man irresistible? Why does Byron's shitty poetry cause women to do ridiculous things? It's just a mystery of the universe. *For those of you who are curious, they are "She Walks in Beauty," and "So, We'll Go No More a Roving," and bits of "Manfred" are fun. But it's a well-known, though little-spoken fact that British Romantic poetry is much better by reputation than by actual reading.