It’s A Laugh-A-Minute Lifestyle
Theirs is a “non-hierarchical” relationship, so the whole cancer thing didn’t count when there’s third-party shagging to be had:
Readers may recall the numerous polyamory ‘cope’ videos we’ve seen here over the years, in which clearly neurotic and unhappy people try to convince themselves, and us, that they’re totally cool with their chosen lifestyle miseries. Often while on the verge on tears.
we’re reaching levels of polyamory cope that shouldn’t even be possible pic.twitter.com/Cc3fdxxhwn
— pagliacci the hated 🌝 (@Slatzism) August 8, 2023
“Imagine them there, embracing you.” Instead of that other slag.
every video I see from this polyamorous woman sounds like she’s on the verge of tears and trying to convince herself that everything’s okay pic.twitter.com/ksO9coMzk2
— pagliacci the hated 🌝 (@Slatzism) February 8, 2024
I don’t think her expression quite matches her words.
And then there was the time the Guardian’s lifestyle section brought us assurances of the “really positive energy” of polyamory, despite an unfolding catalogue of unhappy complications, displays of selfishness and insecurity, and despite recurring use of the words jealousy, resentment and anger.
Oh, and we mustn’t forget the tale, via New York magazine, of the Brooklynite comedian and podcaster named Billy, his girlfriend Megan, and his girlfriend Megan’s other boyfriend Kyle. An exhaustingly self-consciousness three-way entanglement resulting in a series of grimly farcical situations that were framed, rather coyly, as “relationship difficulties.”
The above, I should add, was one of several attempts by New York magazine to portray unfaithfulness and cuckoldry, and the consequent anxieties, as the very zenith of a progressive lifestyle.
As when a betrayed husband, Michael Sonmore, boasted, unconvincingly, that he “finally became a feminist” via his wife’s nocturnal sexual adventures with a chap named Paulo. A wife who was “embracing herself” and becoming empowered, we were told, while her children, aged six and three, wondered where their Mommy was.
If the rota systems, pecking orders and endless crying don’t strike you as appealing or the foundation of a happy life, that can only be because you, a filthy heathen, aren’t sufficiently sophisticated.
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As always, when I hear about polyamorous arrangements, I must ask: “Which ones are the sociopaths”?
Only a sociopath would value lack of attachment in sexual relationships. Only a sociopath would imagine that the problem with infidelity is that you do it in secret (hence “ethical non-monogamy”). Only a sociopath would consider it a virtue to be indifferent to his wife’s cancer, because “non-hierarchy.”
I feel sorry for the dependent personalities who get sucked into these things by their sociopath partners. They’re told that if they balk at the arrangement, it’s because they’re prudish and backwards and closed-minded and a disappointment.
Instead, they go through a meat grinder while their sociopath parters live it up.
Laughed. Not sorry.
Have one on me, barkeep.
Well, it does, I think, capture the essence of the thing. The fundamental lie.
Bless you, sir. May you invent a device to teleport the accumulated filth from your rugs and carpets into the hair of your enemies.
[ Studies blueprints. ]
[ Ponders possibilities of a filth teleporting device. ]
I think it’s safe to say that the hospital incident, above, doesn’t reflect well on the phenomenon, or on the kinds of personalities the phenomenon attracts.
Is today’s word ‘microexpressions’?
Well, quite. There’s a lot going on in that face.
The words hostage video also come to mind.
One of these might suffice in the meantime. Couple with a slot for mail in the front door and everything is coming up roses.
It’s not without appeal, but I do like the stealth of instantaneous filth teleportation. So the target gets up one morning to discover that their formerly immaculate bathroom is now somehow covered in a deep and bewildering layer of fluff and hair, for instance.
The how-the-fuck quality is rather important. I mean, if we’re veering into supervillainy, we might as well do it with flair.