Crumbs Made Her Unhappy
Speaking of ladies who write for The Atlantic, here’s senior editor Honor Jones a-gush with expression in the Family section:
I loved my husband; it’s not that I didn’t. But I felt that he was standing between me and the world, between me and myself… I had caused so much upheaval, so much suffering, and for what? He asked me that, at first, again and again: For what? So I could put my face in the wind. So I could see the sun’s glare.
It’s a tale of divorce, you see, and rather sad, and just a little confusing. For instance, exactly why the divorce came about is not immediately obvious. There’s no mention of affairs, or hardship, or emotional cruelty. In fact, and despite 3,000 words, the husband is barely mentioned, except as an unwitting hindrance to some nebulous fantasy of self-exploration, or at least self-dramatization. Indeed, we’re presented with a loving husband and comfortable middle-class life, in which one chats with architects and browses the Instagram accounts of cabinet makers, while weighing the merits of soapstone kitchen counters.
Slowly, I realised, I didn’t want this life. I didn’t want to renovate. I wanted to get divorced… I started imagining other lives. Other homes.
Here, I should point out that Ms Jones also has three small children. Though their wellbeing doesn’t appear to figure too heavily, or much at all, in the extended ramble of the article. However, we do hear a lot about other, more important matters:
the crumbs got me down.
Crumbs are a recurring topic, mentioned seven times, along with a dislike of vacuuming. Truly, a life of unrelenting hell. Albeit with a cleaner to do much of the heavy lifting:
I hired a woman named Luba to clean… I loved talking with her. She was full of sensible advice, like how I should really stop washing the cleaning rags along with the children’s clothes, because the chemicals could irritate their skin.
Not the worst opinion we’ll hear today.
We’re then informed that a comfortable middle-class life, in which time can be spent choosing new kitchens and chatting with the cleaner, is actually an oppressive experience:
I wanted to be thinking about art and sex and politics and the patriarchy. How much of my life—I mean the architecture of my life, but also its essence, my soul, my mind—had I built around my husband? Who could I be if I wasn’t his wife? Maybe I would microdose. Maybe I would have sex with women. Maybe I would write a book.
At which point, I’m tempted to suggest that a more adventurous adolescence and some teenage experimentation might have saved a lot of later heartache. But it seems we’re expected to share Ms Jones’ belief that the only thing preventing her from being exciting and fabulous – from blossoming as a fully switched-on and progressive woman who drops acid and dabbles with lesbianism, which can then be mentioned for effect – is her family and her obligations to them. And obviously, it’s physically impossible for women who are mothers and wives to think about art and sex and politics.
Hence the betrayal, the breaking of vows. And hey, divorce is such an adventure.
The subject of remorse does crop up, briefly:
There were days when the magnitude of what I’d done bore down on me. I kept wondering if I’d feel regret, or remorse. It is hard to admit this—it makes me cold, as cold a woman as my ex-husband sometimes suspects I am—but I didn’t. I felt raw, and I liked it. There was nothing between me and the world.
Oh lucky world.
And then the rewards for this feat of selflessness and bravery:
On my nights alone, I caught up with old friends, frantically made new friends, said way too much about my personal life over drinks with colleagues. Out in the city, I felt solid: a capable woman taking care of her family.
Today’s words are unintended irony.
Update:
In the comments, Jacob asks,
Is her first name ironic?
Well, there’s quite a bit of irony, albeit unintentional. Such that we’re expected to believe that Ms Jones is somehow being robbed of self-expression, presumably by “the patriarchy,” despite her life of minimal drudgery, and despite being a contributor and senior editor at the New York Times and a senior editor at The Atlantic. Resulting in the self-indulgent ramble quoted above.
Needless to say, Ms Jones has dozens of blue-tick Twitter followers, many of whom are her peers in ‘progressive’ institutions of one kind or another, merrily gushing about her “courage” and capacity for introspection, her glorious humanity, her “brilliant soul.” Her tale, we’re told, is “beautiful and moving.” And none of those applauding apparently raised an eyebrow at a self-involved woman shattering the lives of her three small children, and her husband, in order to concentrate on herself even more than before.
Reading Ms Jones’ outpourings, I was reminded of a conversation in which someone was telling me about how a number of her female friends had spent years and large sums of money on a series of activities and retreats in order to “find themselves.” I suggested that if someone is in their fifties, having spent half a century on this Earth, and still can’t find themselves, then maybe, just maybe, there isn’t much there to be found.
It didn’t go down terribly well.
Update 2:
Regarding the gushing mentioned above, Rafi notes,
It’s like a parallel universe.
It is a little odd. And it does, I think, reveal the psychological gulf – and moral gulf – that can exist between we, the unremarkable, and our glorious betters. But then, like so much else, The Atlantic seems increasingly geared to the preoccupations of neurotic middle-class lefties. Which is why you’ll find self-satisfied articles on how we should prioritise the feelings and wellbeing of brazen and habitual thieves over those of the people they prey upon. And on how insufficiently woke crossword puzzles are one of “the systemic forces that threaten women.”
Things of that kind.
Who could I be if I wasn’t his wife? Maybe I would microdose. Maybe I would have sex with women. Maybe I would write a book.
‘Sex and the City’ isn’t real.
Is her first name ironic?
Is her first name ironic?
Well, there’s quite a bit of irony, albeit unwitting. Such that we’re told she’s being robbed of self-expression, despite being a contributor and senior editor at the New York Times and a senior editor at The Atlantic. Resulting in the self-indulgent ramble quoted above.
Needless to say, Ms Jones has dozens of blue-tick Twitter followers, many of whom are her peers in ‘progressive’ institutions of one kind or another, merrily gushing about her “courage” and capacity for introspection. Her tale, we’re told, is “beautiful and moving.” And none of those applauding apparently raised an eyebrow at a self-involved woman shattering the lives of her three small children, and her husband, in order to concentrate on herself even more than before.
It reminded me of a conversation I had a while ago, in which someone was telling me about how a number of her friends had spent many years and large amounts of money on a long series of activities and retreats in order to “find themselves.” I suggested that if someone is in their fifties, having spent half a century on this Earth, and still can’t find themselves, then maybe, just maybe, there isn’t much there to be found.
It didn’t go down terribly well.
You seem to be mocking a woman who was suffering torture at the hands of four filthy beasts who were producing soul-crushing volumes of crumbs in her home. What good are soapstone counters if they are covered with crumbs? You’re obviously failing to grasp that she was married to a fiend who would rather have toast than a wife and children who appreciated crackers more than their mom. Can’t any of you imagine the Nirvana that is a crumb-free life?
I admit that I am a tad confused about her contemplating some casual girl-on-girl action though. Is the pendulum back in the “lifestyle choice” position? Seems like yesterday I was assured that this was a genetic imperative. Ooooooooooooooo, maybe it’s a latent imperative triggered by crumb toxicity! Government-funded grant opportunity detected!
Crumb-free life, limitless pronoun possibilities, “frantic” attempts to make new friends…c’mon people! Why aren’t we celebrating this hero? …and don’t tell me it’s because she’s already celebrating herself way too much.
Is her first name ironic?
“The Carter parents were a quiet and respectable Lancre family who got into a bit of a mix-up when it came to naming their children. First, they had four daughters, who were christened Hope, Chastity, Prudence, and Charity, because naming girls after virtues is an ancient and unremarkable tradition. Then their first son was born and out of some misplaced idea about how this naming business was done he was called Anger Carter, followed later by Jealousy Carter, Bestiality Carter, and Covetousness Carter. Life being what it is, Hope turned out to be a depressive, Chastity was enjoying life as a lady of negotiable affection in Ankh-Morpork, Prudence had thirteen children, and Charity expected to get a dollar’s change out of seventy-five pence—whereas the boys had grown into amiable, well-tempered men, and Bestiality Carter was, for example, very kind to animals.”
–Lords and Ladies by Terry Pratchett
I loved my husband; it’s not that I didn’t. But I felt that he was standing between me and the world, between me and myself
I wonder if it has ever occurred to her that her husband’s job stands between him and many things that he would like to do? I also wonder if she will ever realize that being an adult involves accepting responsibility and that life is not endless play.
I want the husband’s side of the story.
It’s a tale of divorce, you see, and rather sad, and just a little confusing.
I wonder how her husband and children feel about her broadcasting their troubles to the world.
Very old advice: Do not marry a writer. (At least not unless you are very sure of said writer’s discretion and respect for the privacy of friends and family.)
I suggested that if someone is in their fifties, having spent half a century on this Earth, and still can’t find themselves, then maybe, just maybe, there isn’t much there to be found.
Yes.
I admit that I am a tad confused about her contemplating some casual girl-on-girl action though.
On the contrary: I have been assured by a few lesbians that even the most brief and casual sexual encounter between two lesbians who will never see each other again is immeasurably profound. [rolls eyes]
She is just a chronic kvetcher, here we see her ululating about yoga pants, here she finds vacations problematic.
Just one of those miserable people who enjoy being miserable.
I wonder how her husband and children feel about her broadcasting their troubles to the world.
It is a strange way of fishing for praise, as seems to be the intent (and indeed effect). I mean, it’s basically, “I broke my marriage vows and betrayed my family, including three small children, possibly doing them serious, life-denting harm, because I got a bit bored with myself and the comfortable life my husband had provided.”
Very old advice: Do not marry a writer.
Bloggers exempt, obviously.
Bloggers exempt, obviously.
I recall enjoying James Lileks’ blog posts about his very young daughter Natalie (who he called Gnat and who he obviously doted upon) but wondering how she would feel once she was old enough to be truly aware of them. (Some kids don’t care at all, while others are mortified.) She did eventually ask him to stop calling her Gnat and he no longer writes nearly as much about her. (Caveat: I do not know how much or how little he wrote about her in his actual newspaper columns.)
Ironically, she is a pretty crummy person.
I’ve run across a few people like this. They uproot their life, including divorce, in order to strike off in a different direction. There’s nothing particularly wrong with their old life or marriage that I could tell — they just apparently wanted something different.
And I can’t criticize it much. It often seems like a poor choice, but it’s their choice.
What’s striking about this example is the children. With children comes responsibility whether you like it or not. Self actualization takes a back seat to their care. Basically everything takes a back seat.
She found another person. 100%. Even if she wasn’t dating this person already, she has another in mind. Guarantee it.
I wonder how much in alimony she will be getting to finance her adventures ?
I wonder how much in alimony she will be getting to finance her adventures?
Well, microdosing is fairly cheap, as drug-related activities go. As for experimental lesbianism, I couldn’t say.
How long before she’s writing about the challenges of dating when you’re a narcissistic, divorced harpy with three children? I think she’ll find even lesbians will find that unattractive.
Yes, it’s her son who has things mixed up.
“…sensible advice, like how I should really stop washing the cleaning rags along with the children’s clothes, because the chemicals…”
I knew a woman who lived such a protected married life that when she got divorced she didn’t even know how to put gas in her car or know that her car tires/tyres were inflated with air.
She learned the latter fact when a driver waved to her and called out “Your tires are flat!”. “Which one?” she answered. “All of them!”
…spent many years and large amounts of money on a long series of activities and retreats in order to “find themselves.”…
A poster in my grandson’s school hallway: “Life is not about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” (Attributed to George Bernard Shaw.)
A poster in my grandson’s school hallway: “Life is not about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.”
A psychologist–I cannot remember who–once said something to the effect that growing up is, in a way, becoming a person.
I recall reading the name of a job applicant and wondering how a mother could name her daughter “Uwanna F”
What’s striking about this example is the children. With children comes responsibility whether you like it or not.
Emphatically agree. Heavy responsibility. Kids need their parents, and not just for occasional drop-in visits.
There is also, of course, responsibility towards the other spouse. After all, a lot of divorced men and women never again find someone to marry and so alone for the rest of their lives, a bad fate.
She learned the latter fact when a driver waved to her and called out “Your tires are flat!”.
I do often see cars with under-inflated tires. Both male and female drivers. Possibly more often female but I cannot honestly testify to that.
‘Sex and the City’ isn’t real.
Most SatC nerds have never read the book, which is the point. In the book the author-insert “Carrie Bradshaw” routinely wakes up alone curled up around her toilet with vomit and semen in her hair. The book is a fairly accurate, starkly honest portrayal of what that lifestyle is actually like. Candice Bushnell has since disavowed the lifestyle and has been quite vocal about how self-destructive it is.
When Darren Star saw the book that HBO had just optioned, he knew there was no way in hell he could sell that to women. So he retooled the show into a ridiculous Cinderella fantasy – one that women have been patterning their life after ever since.
I have been assured by a few lesbians that even the most brief and casual sexual encounter between two lesbians who will never see each other again is immeasurably profound.
Why, it’s almost like deeply dysfunctional people with deep-rooted trauma unsuccessfully using casual sex to plaster over their need for intimacy and security.
I want the husband’s side of the story.
It’s worth keeping in mind that the author’s side of the story is still just a story. We’ve seen here in the past articles in a similar Eat, Pray, Love vein that were entirely fictional. Assuming anything in this article is true, there’s more than a faint whiff of the author mostly trying to convince herself.
Monogamy in humans isn’t natural the way it is for swans and wolves. It had to evolve as a social construct independently, in every human society, because it produces better results than harem-based tribes. What we’re seeing is the midgame of throwing out all of the social enforcement of that idea forty years ago.
When Darren Star saw the book that HBO had just optioned, he knew there was no way in hell he could sell that to women. So he retooled the show into a ridiculous Cinderella fantasy – one that women have been patterning their life after ever since.
A horrible thing to do. Dare I say evil?
The stuff suicides are made of.
She did eventually ask him to stop calling her Gnat and he no longer writes nearly as much about her.
He still writes a bit, even though she’s off to Boston College to be indoctrinated.
What he does not do is write about his wife, who seems to be a high-level lawyer in state government. Which is for the best, really.
And obviously, it’s physically impossible for women who are mothers and wives to think about art and sex and politics.
Anais Nin has entered the chat.
experimental lesbianism
Band name.
To “feel regret or remorse” she’d have to “imagine other lives,” starting with her husband’s and children’s. Pardon me for stating the obvious.
I was rather more partial to the “Soul Crushing Crumbs” as a band name until I realized that, yes obviously, it would have to be a soul band.
A horrible thing to do. Dare I say evil?
We abhor and condemn those who, for profit, get vulnerable people hooked on harmful addictive drugs. We should do the same with people who sell harmful lies.
My goodness. ‘Tis a degree of self-absorption so concentrated that I fear she might turn into a black hole. Which I suppose would be appropriate, as a singularity is known primarily for warping and destroying everything in its vicinity.
Now I’m imagining her oldest son delivering the eulogy at her funeral someday. He just reads excerpts from this article, and concludes with a Gallic shrug.
But isn’t this sort of female navel gazing crap that has kept at least two cable TV stations (Oxygen & WTF the other one is), Oprah, an un-heavenly host of psychologist, half the book/poetry publishing industry, etc. in business for the last 30, 40, 50 years? Just think of the enormous damage that it would do to the economies of western civilization were it not for soooo many of these women.
I have a cousin, well 2nd cousin once removed, who just had a baby. In addition to her being the first woman ever, ever, ever to experience such a thing, she stumbled upon a “safeguards for your baby in this hospital” instruction sheet from 1968 (her mother was born in 1967) and the rules…well, they gave her anxiety. Rules. From 1968. It’s constant drama. She never knew her great grandfather, a WWI artillery veteran, a strong firm first generation American from Germany. That man, and his wife, have got to be spinning in their graves. I have watched this family degenerate across three generations now and it’s mostly female-ish BS, well post WWII quasi-feminist (yet “oddly” conservative…”conservative”) BS, that has driven it. Stunning.
A horrible thing to do. Dare I say evil?
No, not at all. I enjoy watching Smallville (shut up, David); I don’t run around the neighbourhood in brightly coloured tights trying to stop street crime.
There’s nothing wrong with escapist fantasy. There is something wrong with people incapable of distinguishing between escapist fantasy and reality. I don’t know about the relative rates, but my gut check is that there’s a lot more women running around thinking they’re Samantha or Carrie than there are teenaged boys running around thinking they’re katana-wielding vampire hunters.
We should do the same with people who sell harmful lies
Displaces the responsibility. What you’re advocating for is the bowdlerization of all media, in the same fashion children’s cartoons were bowdlerized in the 1980s. Cobra Commander, Megatron, Starscream, Skeletor, the Misfits, the Gorgs, Tweeg and the Peculiar Purple Pieman of Porcupine Peak were all useless putzes because they had to be: Broadcast Standards and practices said the villains couldn’t be effective or admirable lest the children emulate the wrong character.
What we need to abhor and condemn are adults who live their life as if they’re in a TV show.
Reading this reminded me of a song, The Stone, by Josh Ritter. Some of the lyrics:
Change your face
Change your name
Rip the roots that you laid down
Rip the roots that you laid down
You’ll keep your hurt
You’ll keep your pain
Close company now
Close company now
Lying wide awake
In a different house
With different arms around you now
On a different street
In a different town
On the same old road
That the night comes down
That the night comes down
I enjoy watching Smallville (shut up, David)
[ Muttering from cellar. ]
I wonder how much in alimony she will be getting to finance her adventures ?
Yes, when she said “There was nothing between me and the world”, I ctrl-F’d for alimony and child support. If you’re going to be so raw and brutal, why not talk about the money? They can afford to move from a cozy Pennsylvania farmhouse to two apartments in an area of Brooklyn where she believes it to be safe for their kids to walk between the parental habitation units, play in the public playgrounds, and attend the local public schools – a good school district, as they say. It seems that the “transitional” 3 bedroom apartment became hers, and it doesn’t say what sort of apartment the husband has. What sort of money are we talking about here? Is it Atlantic editor money, or is the boring unsatisfactory ex-husband still paying some of her bills?
… articles in a similar Eat, Pray, Love vein …
A relative of mine self-published a book a few years ago with all of the attributes of the genre – the formless angst among the high-end kitchen fixtures, the affectless “so we’re finished, are we?” conversations, the charming foreign gentleman who just turns up. At a family get-together (thankfully without the author being present), my cousin re-introduced the wholesome pastime of reading aloud from books, or at least from her book. Cruel, but a lot of us were being pestered by the author for our “feedback”, and we had no idea what to say.
https://dalrock.wordpress.com/2017/06/28/listen-to-the-whispers/
https://dalrock.wordpress.com/2017/02/26/a-god-we-must-obey/
There’s nothing wrong with escapist fantasy. There is something wrong with people incapable of distinguishing between escapist fantasy and reality.
Except that the impression I have is that this is not merely escapist fantasy but a lie about what is and what can be, and in fact a lie that has been peddled for decades.
this is not merely escapist fantasy but a lie about what is and what can be, and in fact a lie that has been peddled for decades
I think you’d be hard pressed to note any particular difference in the distance between presentation and reality among Sex and the City, Friends[1], Dallas, and Have Gun, Will Travel. Anyone who mistakes any television for an accurate depiction of anything is committing a category error. That’s the fault of the viewer, not the producer.
Don’t forget, Pratchett’s Discworld novels depict a society ruled with an iron fist by an absolute tyrant who is portrayed as wise, benevolent and all-knowing; and the subtext of all the novels is that it is best that the government be in charge of all important institutions. We’ve seen where that particular lie leads, repeatedly throughout the 20th and 21st centuries. Shall we lock his works away, then, For the Greater Good of Society?
[1] Wildly popular among millenials and Gen Z for obvious reasons
Indeed, we’re presented with a loving husband and comfortable middle-class life,
Wow, a Millennial Betty Friedan.
But hasn’t the wonderfulness of the “sexually liberated, perpetually unmarried” life been a staple of feminist propaganda since the sixties?
But hasn’t the wonderfulness of the “sexually liberated, perpetually unmarried” life been a staple of feminist propaganda since the sixties?
Well yes. Let’s not forget that feminist ideology is largely Marxist in nature and the end game of marxism is disruption and revolution. They’re not exactly trying to make people happy. So many “educated” people have never grasped this about most leftist ideologies.
Bragging about being a piece of sh*t is the new progress
They’re not exactly trying to make people happy. So many “educated” people have never grasped this about most leftist ideologies.
Oh, they’ve grasped it. They just believe they will be among the whip-wielders, not among the whipped.
They also believe that most Other People are the equivalent of herd animals who must be controlled in order to be content – not happy, just content.
So many “educated” people have never grasped this about most leftist ideologies.
I have noticed that. Virtually impossible to get through to most “educated” people.
Bloke?
https://www.nytimes.com/by/honor-jones
Bloke?
Lol! Thought the same thing when I looked “her” up. Things can only get worse.
They just believe they will be among the whip-wielders, not among the whipped.
True, I should have said the real end game of marxism is power. They don’t really believe in anything. Most of their positions and beliefs are put forward to create disruption and revolution that will lead them to power. Too many examples of what happens when they get it.
@Steve E:
She is XX, though, isn’t she? I had an ‘uncanny valley’ moment a couple of weeks ago watching Jeopardy!, and sure enough…
So far, I’ve got XY female persons trouncing XX female persons in:
-cycling
-weight lifting
-track
-swimming
-TV trivia
Did I miss any?
Did I miss any?
-beauty contest
-beauty contest
I wonder about the judges.
Wife is having a bit of a meltdown today for reasons somewhat similar to this BS. Her nephew passed from covid last August, which I believe I related here, and recently her brother-in-law’s nephew committed suicide. These things on their own are bad but in extended family sense just a part of life. A major part of what she is having difficulty with is the apparent heartlessness of the two widows. One whose husband died in August was already “in a relationship” with another man in October and is now posting about vacationing with this new guy in Jamaica…just finding out now on their honeymoon. She got thousands of dollars in a GoFundMe when he died. The other, well that one was a PoS from the beginning we understand but the funeral is still being planned and she’s selling his cologne “that was only used twice” and whatever else she can unload given she has the free time right now I suppose. I’m a pretty cynical guy, especially in regards to women, but this crap is…well we both were raised for a different world. I f’n hate people. Women like this especially.
“-beauty contest”
Sorry I asked.
Odd that when a man abandons his family he’s said to be irresponsible. A bum. A lowlife. When women like this do it they’re “stunning and brave.”
One whose husband died in August was already “in a relationship” with another man in October
Meanwhile, my mom is still experiencing bouts of depression and crying jags over dad (passed away April 2018, 11 days short of their 67th wedding anniversary). But she’s also feisty and could still kick this idiot’s hindquarters up and down the east coast without breaking a sweat.
We all enjoyed a quiet celebration of her 90th birthday in Nov. Especially as great-grandson Sean was able to attend before heading off to the Navy.
You forgot “woman of the year”. Men have that title too.
WTP: Sorry. My sympathies.
Darleen: It can take a while, sometimes years, to “get over” losing a spouse. Helps to have family to help get through it.
“Very old advice: Do not marry a writer. (At least not unless you are very sure of said writer’s discretion and respect for the privacy of friends and family.)”
It would also be wise not to be born of one, if it can be arranged.
Short version: “I, I, me, me, I, drama, drama, me.”
It would make a good Ramones song, but it’s a shitty way to live. As the ironically named Honor is no doubt finding out.
my mom
You look like her–from the pictures you’ve posted. She looks great. My mom’s still feisty and hanging in at 88 despite diabetes and increasing blindness from macular degeneration.
Given the justified drubbing she’s getting for this on Twitter and in blogs, you have to wonder why none of this stuff occurred to her while she was in the process of breaking up her marriage. Or maybe it did and she ignored it?
Marriages do break up. Sometimes it can’t be helped. But what is striking about her article is that it doesn’t contain any true moral introspection. Instead it’s just Self-Help slogans with a literary gloss: an autobiography of the Dr Phil generation. It’s as if she’s sacrificed moral and intellectual honesty, and even family for the sake of…. what? A few lines in a magazine?
A baffling piece.
Daniel, you have completely and utterly misread Terry Pratchett
experimental lesbianism
In view of the XY/XX discussion maybe it should be experiential lesbianism – you know, the penis-assisted sort.
@Brumble | January 05, 2022 at 04:42
+1K
WTP: “…well we both were raised for a different world.”
A better one, by far.
That. It’s like a parallel universe.
That. It’s like a parallel universe.
It is a little odd. And it does, I think, reveal the psychological gulf – and moral gulf – that can exist between we, the unremarkable, and our glorious betters.
Well, as I like to remind my Better Half, we’re Catholic, so divorce is out of the question.
But I could kill him and pop off to Confession afterwards.
Over our 25+ years together, the man has learned to sleep with one eye open.
Over our 25+ years together, the man has learned to sleep with one eye open.
Disposing of the body is always the tricky part. I gather.
the gulf that can exist between we, the unremarkable, and our glorious betters.
Heh. Memorably put.
I am occasionally tempted to re-read all those acclaimed feminist works of the sixties and seventies, for forensic purposes. But life is short and there are better things to do. But there is enough material there to keep an army of future historians and clinical psychologists busy.
Not entirely unrelated.
Not entirely unrelated.
From that thread:
…Ms Penny thrills to the “growing power of uncoupled women” and “the threat this poses to the socioeconomic status quo”
…
Not entirely unrelated, I don’t think, is that Universal Basic Income (UBI) seems to be growing in popularity as the latest cause du jour…
Read the entire thread for various observations on the lunacy of dream of UBI and “communal living”.
And speaking of “communal living”, in my experience that does not work very well. I have known a few groups of people who lived communally and they were all more or less dysfunctional, many of them marginally employed and their homes smelling of unemptied cat litter boxes. A few even had serious rat/mouse/cockroach problems. Even when the aforementioned problems were not evident the individuals had many problems getting along with each other and managing the responsibilities. I ended up concluding that “communal living” was not a solution to “societal failings” but a fake solution to personal failings.
Caveat: I did know of a few communal arrangements that worked well, but they were shared professional spaces rather than living spaces: artists who pooled their money to rent studio space, purchase equipment that they all would need but use only rarely, and so on.
the lunacy of dream of UBI and “communal living”.
And why do these fools think that, after disposing of the family, they can look forward to an old age in which they reside in government-run old age homes and are cared for by strangers? The socialist dream is truly monstrous.
Correction: “…and are lovingly cared for by strangers?”
Speaking of dysfunctions, I knew a morbidly obese couple whose dogs have also all been dangerously obese. A good clue that one should question such cliches as “I’m just big boned” and “it’s my metabolism”. Of the obese people I have known, only a very few have been willing to try cutting out the carbs and sugar–or even to accept that there might be merit in such a diet. Some have indignantly rejected such ideas as “fake” and “crackpot”.
Oops: The previous comment was supposed to include this link.
Disposing of the body is always the tricky part.
It helps to have a yacht. For which a corpse-sized sail bag will not attract undue attention.
From that thread…
An irony being that Ms Jones, our elite delinquent, can pretend to be oppressed – by comfort, no less – and can divorce for no obvious reason, as a lifestyle choice, and survive it – or at least cushion or defer the consequences for herself. A woman from a more modest background imitating such behaviour – as aspirational, a marker of status – would be likely to find the consequences more damaging, much harder to avoid, and more lasting in their effect.
I wonder if Ms Jones will reflect on her… what’s the word? Oh yes, privilege.
A friend is somebody who will help you move. A true friend is somebody who will help you move bodies. I suggest dumping the corpse in an alley in a city with a progressive District Attorney. Odds are that they won’t even investigate, much less indict, much less convict, much less imprison anyone.
If we have to live through these hellish times, we might as well take advantage of what few silver linings are offered!
I suggest dumping the corpse in an alley in a city with a progressive District Attorney
If you slip your corpse in at the bottom of the pile it will also buy you more time.
Daniel said, “[80s TV bad guys] were all useless putzes because they had to be: Broadcast Standards and practices said the villains couldn’t be effective or admirable lest the children emulate the wrong character.”
Interesting, had never put that together. Even little me wondered how Shredder kept losing all the time, but was supposed to be the uber-badass. Shows like Avatar prove that it can be done, and done well, but alas – we do not live in that timeline.
A true friend is somebody who will help you move bodies.
I have been told a true friend is somebody who goes out and gets two BJs and comes back and gives you one. Alas, I have no true friends.
[ Grabs fire extinguisher. Heads for the alley. ]
I suggest dumping the corpse in an alley in a city with a progressive District Attorney
Just go to NYC, where the new DA says assault with a deadly weapon will now be a misdemeanor. Just say your victim wasn’t wearing a face Depends™ so the killing was for equity and social justice.
Guaranteed you’ll walk.
Divorced woman who was too sheltered: a divorced neighbor did not know cars needed oil and burned out her engine. Yeah, husbands are useless.
Another ironic thing here is that if anyone “had it all” it was this woman. A decent husband with a good job, 3 kids, a maid, a fulfilling job. And she wants to be 18 again. Not seeing her friends? My wife has ladies over or they go out for lunch. Not having fun? Families can have fun. I also find my kids to be lots of fun just as they are. And hilarious.
There is an unfortunate tendency for women to get bored with married life and want out for that reason alone. Too bad about all the hurt family members.
When men acted as this Honor Jones person did, it was called a midlife crisis, and they were mocked and/or vilified for it. How dare they leave the poor old wife and the three young children to go screw their younger secretary and drive a convertible! Those men were finding themselves too. Funny how when women do the same thing it’s “stunning and brave”.
A woman from a more modest background imitating such behaviour – as aspirational, a marker of status – would be likely to find the consequences more damaging, much harder to avoid, and more lasting in their effect.
That, in spades. Anyone who is able to make such life-changing decisions with little to no negative consequences to them for their actions is privileged indeed. Stunning and brave, my arse.
Disposing of the body is always the tricky part.
I was once told–and I only include this for reference and not as a ‘how-to’ guide (though lefties do think ‘1984’ is a manual)–that one of the best places to dispose of the body is in the middle of a roundabout at a busy junction. If there is normally a lot of traffic, there is a very good chance that the trees and bushes in the middle are never dug up, and understandably no one ever wants to go there.
Without obsessing over such matters, a chap once told me of a nasty specimen of the male species who, having insulted a nice young lady at a business run by, er, the criminal side of life, was disposed of while the M62 was being built. The story went that one of the bridge supports was under construction at the time and a little extra concrete-covered bundle laid one night was never spotted.
I did read a story once of a guy who dumped the weighted body of his wife in Wastwater, which I believe is England’s deepest lake. All good and fine until a few years later a French student visiting the lake district went missing, which caused the police to employ frogmen to trawl the lake bottom. Hey presto, look at that, and the murderer apparently had forgotten to remove the engraved wedding ring he once gave her before seeing the lady off.
In other words, don’t do any of this at home but if you must, be very careful.
Just go to NYC, where the new DA says assault with a deadly weapon will now be a misdemeanor.
There will be an exception for assaults on judges, DA’s, politicians, and their friends. Of course.
it’s physically impossible for women who are mothers and wives to think about art and sex and politics.
Thanks, David. Politics and sex, hey? Now I can’t get thoughts of Edwina Currie out of my mind.
The story went that one of the bridge supports was under construction at the time and a little extra concrete-covered bundle laid one night was never spotted.
I’m somewhat skeptical as that would compromise the strength of a load-bearing structure and possibly lead to premature investigation of the cause of the problem.
you have completely and utterly misread Terry Pratchett
You’ve completely and utterly misread my post, so we’re even. Once you go down the road of declaring things crimethink, even the most innocuous of works can be held up as subversive literature. For the Greater Good.
Also it’s really a pity that Superman Returns never really made much of a dent in the zeitgeist, because damn that scene of Kevin Spacey as Luthor saying “Are you suuuure?” would make the best meme ever.
Every Moist von Lipwig book is explicitly Pratchett pushing his big government philosophy: Going Postal is about how the government should be in charge of communications networks, Making Money is about how the fiat currency system is superior to the gold standard – even Guards, Guards has its little paean to making easy credit available to the working poor in the story of Captain Vimes’ boots. Every Discworld novel contains at least one reminder that Lord Vetinari can, will and does eliminate anyone he considers disruptive to the orderly running of his domain quickly and quietly. That he uses this power subtly – say, by threatening Lipwig with it to compel his cooperation in Vetinari’s social engineering rather than just forcing fiat currency on the populace at the point of a sword – does not make it any less tyrannical.
Yes, yes – I know you don’t see this. That’s because Discworld is the Gen-Xers’ Harry Potter. Read another book.
Even little me wondered how Shredder kept losing all the time, but was supposed to be the uber-badass
I remain convinced that part of the reason for the popularity of Star Wars in the 1980s was that the films weren’t covered by the rule, and so Vader, Fett et al were allowed to be frightening.
That said, I can kind of see their point.
…does anyone remember when the good guys were the heroes? I mean, besides Favreau.
I had caused so much upheaval, so much suffering, and for what?
Apparently, because like some angry, stone age God, this is a genre that can only be appeased by human sacrifice.
For instance, this aspiring author-activist-comedian wrote this article inspiring much speculation and amusement here.
It’s notable how often articles in the genre attempt to convince the reader that some act of questionable immorality or even outright harm can be retrospectively justified as a heroic revolt against the strictures of Patriarchal Capitalism (e.g. “It was only later that I realised how by cheating on my husband I had actually been defying the strictures placed on all women living in world owned and run for the benefit of men and Corporate greed.”)
A little update from real people…”normal” people world on the oblivious women front…wife just spoke with her sister relating that wife had been out shopping and was taken aback at the presence of more (and more burley) security guards in the stores. Even in ladies’ type stores. I think this also had something to do with wife’s general meltdown yesterday. Sister-in-law asks why that might be. Wife says the thefts and such, smash and grab robberies, etc. SiL had no idea. She googles and is shocked, shocked to hear about such things going on. Then asks…Do you suppose it has something to do with the January 6 anniversary? I just can’t…
When men acted as this Honor Jones person did, it was called a midlife crisis, and they were mocked and/or vilified for it. How dare they leave the poor old wife and the three young children to go screw their younger secretary and drive a convertible!
Heh. I was mocked by a leftist coworker for this years ago and all I did was just buy a convertible. But it fit the stereotype, you see. Never mind that I had owned one before. People live in the mindset of the TV shows, movies, and news articles that they read. They have been told how to think and what to think for decades such that they can only process information in the context of the Narrative. Hence this woman.