satisfaction (n.): 1 a : the payment through penance of the temporal punishment incurred by a sin b : reparation for sin that meets the demands of divine justice…
3 a : compensation for a loss or injury : ATONEMENT, RESTITUTION b : the discharge of a legal obligation or claim c : VINDICATION…

I’ve already put this in my profile in all of my internet social networks, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth commenting upon here. In this week’s New Yorker, Arthur Krystal’s piece “En Garde!” gives a brief overview of the history of dueling (The New Yorker, naturally, chooses the élitist prick spelling “duelling” — I swear, if they could invent their own house orthographic system using nothing but diacritics and the fingerprints of certain members of the House of Lords, they would), as background to a review of a book about the last documented duel to the death in Scotland.

The piece is fascinating, and I thoroughly encourage any and everyone to read it. It makes the important point that while dueling was originally conceived as a way of limiting civil violence — by establishing elaborate codes of conduct and a formal way to air grievances to supplant the earlier traditions of assassination, mêlée (see, stupid New Yorker? you’re not so fucking special), and small-scale armed battle — the aristocracy of Renaissance Europe seized on the notion of honor so readily that every minor interpersonal disagreement became an insult worthy of a duel. Further, the glory and excitement inherent in dueling became a catalyst for conflict rather than a mere side-effect of its resolution; courtiers sought out duels to impress women, to eliminate their rivals, and to boost their own social standing among the peerage.

How did lords seek out duels? Well, “[o]ne French nobleman simply sent a card to his neighbors that read, ‘I have reduced your house to ashes, ravished your wife, and hanged your children. Your mortal enemy, Lagarde.’”

Dear readers, does anyone work for Hallmark?