Exemplary Beings
Time for a quick flick through Scary Mommy, where left-leaning ladies are “supporting each other through laughter and empowerment.”
But of course.
My current fixation happens to be a home invasion… My house is nigh on impossible, according to my husband, to break into. However, I can’t stop thinking about it.
No explanation is offered by the author, Elizabeth Broadbent, as to possible causes, but the fixation with “scary men breaking into my home” entails lots of weeping – “tears and breakdowns” are a recurring theme – and the purchase of many things.
My husband has had to buy any number of security items. A raging liberal who believes no one has any reason to own anything but a permitted shotgun for hunting, I’ve contemplated buying a pistol. These thoughts will not go away… So I down another Klonopin and wait.
Oh, come on. It’s Scary Mommy. You knew some kind of mood-stabilising medication would crop up sooner or later. Other unhappy preoccupations include recurring thoughts of an expired husband:
I laid in bed imagining different ways he could meet his demise.
And,
After the birth of my third son, I became convinced that his head would fall off.
Okay, then.
That’s when… they upped my meds.
At which point, readers may wish to ponder just how often ladies of the left feel a need to list their mental health problems, as if engaged in some kind of competition, while demanding that the rest of us aspire to their greatness, emulate their lifestyles, and do as they say.
Ms Broadbent’s other empowering contributions include Why My Ex and I Are Getting Matching Tattoos – it’s his birthday present, you see; and Why I Don’t Really Care If My Kids Drop an F-Bomb. In which we learn that while “fuck” and other epithets are fine for a nine-year-old, “ethnic slurs” and “misogynist slurs” are of course taboo. Ms Broadbent is, needless to say, quite pleased with her discernment on this matter. We’re also informed that the word uppity is “totally racist language,” regardless of context or intent, as is the phrase no can do.
Readers in search of further wisdom can learn, in some detail, of the looming age of “reusable toilet paper” – i.e., wiping your bottom with the remains of old T-shirts:
doing [a] wash every three to four days, for a family of six, you need about 100 wipes.
Inevitably, Ms Broadbent wants you to know her pronouns.
Update, via the comments:
Previously in Scary Mommy…
Why, one might think there were a pattern.
Hopefully this is said somewhat in jest.
Somewhat, certainly. And our host’s point about it being a schtick in this instance is well taken. But, sometimes at least, we really are dealing with people who aren’t well. People who are being used by others who know exactly what they’re doing.
In some cases it is not a schtick: Jean Jacques Rousseau and Karl Marx, for instance, were from all accounts psychologically very damaged/defective.
Agree.
Meant to add… I am increasingly uncomfortable with making fun of people for being stupid and/or crazy because most of the people whom I know appear stupid and/or crazy..to me…something I’ve tried very hard to pretend isn’t the case but simply cannot anymore.
People who are being used by others who know exactly what they’re doing.
Sic a dog on me and I will not blame the dog. But I will deal with it.
Brace yourselves for an Ace-a-lanche.
Hide the breakables and run out for extra cleaning supplies.
Mr. Ream:
“[here’s where the screaming started] children raised by single fathers are no worse than the baseline”
Charles Murray IIRC made a similar point in ‘Coming Apart’. Murray is usually good with references, but I don’t have a copy to hand. You are correct about the vanishingly small population sample, but I think there’s another factor: Under the current system, any father getting custody is going to have to be uber-capable.
@Sonny Ways
Under the current system, any father getting custody is going to have to be uber-capable.
There’s that, obviously, but often the issue of custody doesn’t even arise. I’ve known only two single fathers personally over the course of my life (as Daniel Ream pointed out, they’re a statistically insignificant demographic) and both were widowed. Their children were the children of stable, loving couples who had only been separated by death.