Author's Notes: (Nov 2013)
I saw this quote this morning and it just pissed me off too much to leave alone. I happened to be sitting here at my computer and had a Castle story in development when my foolish mind asked the question "What would Richard Castle say about such a thing?" and below is my response as a quick one-shot slice of time at the station. I hope it meets with everyone's expectations.
If you know any impressionable girls, ladies, women, sisters, mothers, etc. tell them that this guy was wrong!
nytimes(dotty)com(slash)2013(slash)11(slash)07(sla sh)world(slash)americas(slash)mannequins-give-shap e-to-venezuelan-fantasy(dotty)html
Inner Beauty, Self respect and idiots
"Hey Beckett, where's the puppy this morning?" Ryan asked with a snark.
"Maybe he chewed on one of her favorite shoes and she had to punish him." Esposito says with a laugh and the two boys explode into fits of giggles and snorts at the innuendo. Pestering mom and dad was a favorite sport of these two.
"You guys are just begging for trouble aren't you?" Beckett asks with a penetrating glare over her shoulder.
"Not me. How about you Espo?" Ryan tosses back.
Grinning wide the Hispanic detective dismisses it "No, sorry bro' not me. I was just thinking out loud."
"Well, keep it to yourself you two or I'll help find you work."
"Yes mom." the two answer, droning in unison met by one of her eye-rolls.
"Actually, I do wonder where he is now that you mention it. He said he was going to help with paperwork today since we've got that case we're preparing for." Beckett says looking up at the elevator.
"I wouldn't worry Beckett. I mean how much trouble can he get into if you're not around." Ryan says causing the boys to snigger again.
Letting out a groan she gets back to work on the papers on her desk as they hear the elevator ding and they see Castle stride to their area looking energetic.
"Yo Castle, where ya been?" Espo asks.
"I had to come to the defense of non-augmented women around the world." he says taking his seat.
Knowing that this particular can of worms had serious potential for exploding, the boys said nothing and sat with rapt attention on their fearsome leader, waiting to see if she was going to pepper-spray him or not.
"Castle." she said quietly.
"Yes Beckett?" he replied in kind.
"Don't make me hurt you." then after a quick pause "And no you won't like it." she snaps.
"Okay okay, I'll explain. Sheesh!" he said reaching into his coat pocket. Pulling out a New York Times article he puts it in front of her to read. "You can read this but if you want the key point deserving your attention, it's this part right here." he says pointing to a spot lower on the article and highlighted in yellow. Looking at the boys he says "To save you straining to read it, it is a quote that says 'I say that inner beauty does not exist. That's something that unpretty women invented to justify themselves.' and that is a quote from Osmel Sousa, the longtime head of the Miss Venezuela pageant, and advocate for plastic surgery."
"Ay mi Dios!" Esposito breathes.
"Sweet Jesus, what an idiot!" Ryan says.
The two boys and Castle turn back to look at Beckett's reaction. She's staring at it and reading the article. She's got a pencil in the fingers of her left hand that she's wiggling back and forth like a drum stick and as she's reading the pencil suddenly snaps in half. Castle, to accentuate the humor and valid fear of her state of mind scoots his chair away from her desk a foot or two and the three men sit waiting for her to finish reading.
"Castle." she almost whispers. "Is he in my city right now?" she asks turning a deadly stare at him to await his answer.
Wearing a serious face, knowing that this is not a laughing matter he tells her. "Not that I know of. The way that reads, he's in Venezuela still. Which, fortunately for him, is outside of your jurisdiction."
"Lucky for him. If he shows up, let me know. Then me, Karpowski, Johnson and Gates can pick him up for a little enhanced interrogation of our own." turning back to the article in front of her "What a horse's ass he is!" she exclaims. They can hear the frustration in her voice. "Castle, why'd this make you late?"
"I had to write a reply to it. I sent it to Paula and Gina along with the article to see if the NYT will publish it." he says pulling another piece of paper from his jacket. "Here's my reply." he says putting it on the desk in front of her. "I encourage you to let others around here know about this idiot's opinion. He deserves all the recognition he can get for his idiotic and narrow-minded view of women."
Beckett picks up Castle's reply to read it.
"Hey read it out loud so we can hear it too." Ryan asks her.
"Okay." she says clearing her throat, standing, turning and leaning back against her desk.
"To the editor, editorial staff and readers of the New York Times.
I wish to respond to the recent article By WILLIAM NEUMAN Published: November 6, 2013 titled 'Mannequins Give Shape to a Venezuelan Fantasy'.
I think that as a frequent visitor and subject of paparazzi and the well-known Page-6, that I have an advantageous and somewhat rarefied viewpoint from which to engage Mister Osmel Sousa in a dialog regarding the ideas he presents in his statement and actions which he has summarized in the quote "I say that inner beauty does not exist. That's something that unpretty women invented to justify themselves."
Mister Sousa, you are an idiot. Sorry, you want more? Okay, I have always tried to not get in a battle of wits with an unarmed person but since you insist, I will.
In my time, I have, as has been reported many times on said Page-6, enjoyed the company of a multitude of women. Many, when measured by the limited scale that Mr Sousa, uses, would have met or exceeded the designation of 'beautiful' easily. As some of the NYT readers may be aware, I even married two of those beautiful women. (Subsequent divorces not withstanding.) I do believe that I am well qualified to discuss the value and meaning of inner verses outer beauty as well as beauty in general.
To a child's eye, the exquisite work done by da Vinci in the Mona Lisa is but pearls cast before swine. To appreciate the beauty of the work, one must have had the honor of living a life of work and toil to learn what her enigmatic smile means and the depth of this meaning. It is not the shape or ability to bounce a quarter off of her buttocks nor the gravity defying qualities of her breast that draws a crowd, it is the light that emanates from her being. I would rather spend a week staring at this painting and drinking in its beauty than a night with your most recent designee of your misguided value of beautiful.
What you describe is not beauty, it is merely pretty. Pretty is a transitory trait that by its very definition must succumb to the ravages of time. Put into vernacular, one could say that your measure of beauty is that of a paper-mache Rolls-Royce exterior with cheap cardboard interior, shag-rug padding, and milk-carton seating. If this is what you want, you're welcome to it but you should make it clear to the girls who strive to meet this low standard that they are more disposable than yesterday's underwear and will be treated just as well.
Give me a woman who doesn't know how good she looks. Give me a woman who can stand in the middle of a rain storm and not be concerned that her makeup may run but can still smile and still look good. Give me a woman who's purpose in life is not centered on herself but the world around her. Give me a woman who may not stop traffic with her looks but will venture into traffic to help someone in need cross the street. Give me a woman who, as a single parent, will work hard to provide her child or children with a roof over their heads; food in their bellies; song in their heart; compassion, purpose, and honor in their actions and an education in their heads. Give me a woman who can juggle the monumental task of a career and a family and not be broken by the strain. I won't even bother to ask you if you're up to this challenge Mr Sousa, I know you aren't.
As some readers may be aware, I have had the unique honor to observe and work with some of New York's finest at the NYPD. You want beauty? Take a look around the ranks here. You'll find women, who through hard work, sweat and even blood have taken up the challenge of keeping others safe and enforcing the laws. I challenge you Mister Sousa, would you be willing to put on a bullet-resistant vest, (note, I said 'resistant', not 'proof' and they are made by the lowest bidder) then walk into the midst of a domestic abuse situation or a drug deal gone bad and willingly and intentionally place yourself in front of someone else to protect their lives even at the cost of your own? I didn't think so. Well sir, I see it every single day and not just here. Go visit any FDNY firehouse. You'll find women there too. These women, are brave enough to run INTO a fire to save someone they don't know. You don't have a clue what beauty is and I reiterate my previous statement, 'Mister Sousa, you are an idiot.' and you are afflicted with the worst case of rectal cranial inversion that I've ever witnessed.
I see women here who get up every day, work hard to earn a living and provide for their families, then, come the weekend, will make an effort to look their best, not with a $30,000 dress someone else purchased for them but a $300 dress that they purchased with their own hard-earned money from last year and celebrate life. I'll tell you something you haven't figured out for yourself Mister Sousa. In a year, these women will be able to do the same thing again and be just as beautiful as the last time they did it. How many of your 'Mannequin-like' girls will be able to do that? Don't hurt yourself trying to count that low, I'll tell you now, if its more than two I'd be surprised.
I was raised by a single mother who provided me with a childhood rich in learning and experiences. During that time, I came to realize that a beautiful woman is someone who can meet the challenges of life head-on and not surrender to other people's opinions. A beautiful woman is one who can be tough when needed and gentle when appropriate. Let me tell you, my mother may not reach the level of beautiful as measured on your misguided scale but she does to me and many other people, and the opinion of any one of them, I value much higher than yours.
My daughter can stop traffic with a flick of her red hair and blue eyes but that's not what makes her beautiful. That which she carries inside her does. Recently, as a volunteer, she believed in someone's innocence enough to fight hard to uncover the truth of his conviction. Her actions freed an innocent man from death row, a hell not many people can imagine and trapped a murderer who hid behind a badge. In twenty, thirty or forty years, she will still be as beautiful, you just won't understand it.
Want to know the truth? I think Beau Randolph, creator of 'College Girls gone Wild' was more honest and forthright with the girls he exploited than you are. He made no secret of the fact that his interest in the girls was nothing more than adolescent masturbatory fantasies, you attempt to sell the same snake-oil as something high and lofty but it isn't. You're just suffering from a terminal case of testosterone poisoning.
13, 14, 15! Mister Sousa, your time is up, go crawl back under the rock you came from and stop bothering us. We're busy with real women who's beauty you're not entitled or educated enough to enjoy. Real women have curves.
Sincerely, Richard Castle, observer and appreciator of truly beautiful women.
New York, NY"
"Wow." a voice comes from behind Beckett.
"Hey Karpowski, I didn't know you were listening, sorry." Kate says.
"Don't apologize." she says as she walks over to Castle, grabs the back of his head and chin and plants a big kiss on his lips. "Thank you Castle. Even if I wasn't one of the ones you intended. Thank you." Now looking at Beckett. "Remember, if you don't want him, I've got dibs. I'll take him." she says with a wink then walking away as the boys start to laugh at the situation.
Looking a bit shocked, Castle turns to Kate silent and wide-eyed, expecting a response.
"It's okay Castle, you deserved it." Kate says almost laughing.
"Hey Castle, when that gets published, can you give me a copy of both?" Esposito asks sounding serious. "I want to send copies of that to some of my family members who can learn from it."
"Of course Espo, I'll be glad to."
Looking at Castle, Beckett smiles and says "Are you going to frame a copy for your mother? I'd bet she'd love it. I'd make a nice mother's day gift."
"Great idea! I'll do just that!" he bubbles.
"I always knew you were a big softie under there." Beckett says then noticing Gates looking out of her office in their direction she alerts everyone around her by calling out the warning "Falcon!" as she sits down at her desk to return to work and the boys bury their faces in their own work.
Beckett holds up an open folder towards Castle and points to a document in it to draw his attention then whispering "I'm coming over tonight and bringing my handcuffs. You've been good." she winks at him returning the folder to a pile on her desk as the group returns to their work.
Author's Notes:
For those who find value and meaning in the lyrics of heart-felt music, here are two examples that just make me teary every time I hear them. Both of them contain heart-felt messages about the value placed on a woman by the men who love them.
youtube(dotty)com(slash)watch?v=D79XOc1vKzQ
youtube(dotty)com(slash)watch?v=-WZidBcfC7w