This is one of the gems making the rounds on Facebook right now… (and by “gems,” I really mean ignorant, entitled bullshit…)
I find it amusing that hundreds of thousands of federal employees just got an unrequested “vacation” without pay because Congress couldn’t get their shit together, and STILL, everyone, including other middle class Americans, are still focusing on blaming the poor people in America.
Or, if facts don’t really matter much, I’ll leave you with this little ode to misrepresentation and straight up lies. (I’ll reprint the caption that’s tagging along with this particular incarnation of an old pic, but please, don’t hold me responsible for the dumbassery…)
“What the hell is this… A picture is worth a thousand words. SOMEONE WAS AT THE RIGHT PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME WITH A CAMERA. IT WAS REPORTED THAT PRESIDENT OBAMA WAS FURIOUS THAT HE WAS CAUGHT ON CAMERA AND IT WAS PUBLISHED AND TRIED TO BLOCK IT. The name of the book Obama is holding is called: The Post-American World, and it was written by a fellow Muslim.(Fareed Zakaria) “Post” America means: The World “After” America !” If each person sends this to a minimum of twenty people on their address list, In three days, all people in The United States of America would have the message. I believe this is one photo that really should be passed around.”
‘Kay, guys… I hope no one ever post pix of the stuff I read for entertainment!
–Sometimes I can be arrogant, and disdainful of other people… but I think at least some of the time, this stems from the frustration I feel at being unable to do anything significant to affect the bad behavior of others.
For instance, today while reading a blog entry on Own Your Shit, (don’t you just love that name?) I realized after I posted it, how my comments could possibly be construed as arrogant. I sound as if I feel superior, morally and intellectually, to those careless and self-involved enough to enjoy our beautiful world and yet pollute it with their garbage and ruin it for others. In a way, I guess I do feel superior…but whether or not you agree with my assessment of their behavior or my own, I believe part of the reason I feel so resentful of them is my inability to reach enough of them to make a difference, and the very real likelihood that it wouldn’t make a difference even if I could. You can’t argue with self-involved. You can’t argue with stupid.
Image courtesy of “littermob“. Check out this site; their efforts on behalf of Mother Earth are commendable.
— The second “revelation” for the weekend is that maybe I need a change in my perspective when it comes to my smoking. I should apply the same no bullshit philosophy I have on so many other things and with so many other people to myself. Basically, you can’t have everything you want. I should stop being selfish, because even though I enjoy smoking, it would be better for my health (and wallet) if I didn’t, and I owe it to my daughter to be healthy and provide a better example for her.
Could this be the end of the Senile Stalker Saga? Today things came to a head- sort of. I mean, I’m starting to think the only thing that will really end it is if one of us dies (preferably not me, as I’m kind of attached to myself.)
I went next door to visit my neighbor, as I often do. Some of her family, also friends of mine, were over and I wanted to hang out a bit before they went back home. I’d already been over there once for my morning coffee (no coffeemaker at the mo’,) but this time the Old Man was sitting on the love seat.
…and maybe it was too late for me to turn around; I had momentum…or a brief leave of my common sense… and went into my neighbor’s apartment anyway.
And damned if the first thing he said to me wasn’t, “What did you tell your old man about me?”
He must have hit a nerve with me today…either that or my bullshit meter is red-lining, cuz I snapped back something like, “R****, I am not in the mood for your bullshit today.”
But the few things I said to him today in response to his passive-aggressive routine, he acted like he didn’t hear. I told him Hubs was mad and asked him what he expected. He said he didn’t expect anything. Deliberate obtuseness. Great.
About that time Marie’s sister-in-law called to me from the bedroom. Saved by the bell. She knows how I feel about the Old Geezer. About that time, her little girl, who had been taking an extra long time in the bathroom, slipped into the room, also trying to evade the Old Man. I offered them safe haven in my apartment until the Old Man left and I went back to my apartment, and the little girl came over shortly after. She said that R**** had told them all he didn’t like that I told my husband everything he says to me.
Hubby heard that and then he went outside to smoke…and apparently to go next door.
“Put ’em up!”
I guess he’d hit his bullshit quota for the year too. He told the Old Man not to ever talk to him, me, or the baby again, that he didn’t want to see his face again. And all the Old Man said was “Okay.” I wonder if he pissed himself a little.
That still didn’t stop him from asking my friend and her little girl if we were over here talking about him at my place, and what all we said. But I doubt he’ll be speaking to me anytime soon. He gets all indignant and pissy when you’ve had enough of his shit and you tell him off. Then he gets over it. But hopefully he’s smart enough to know better. If he starts coming around us again, I have a feeling the cops will be called…hopefully before Hubs stomps him into Old Man compost.
I realize what a loaded question this is. And on this, my third wedding anniversary, I coincidentally happened on a Penn and Teller: Bullshit episode on “Family Values.” If you’re not familiar with Bullshit, it was a popular Showtime program running from 2003 to 2010, aimed at debunking pseudoscientific ideas, popular beliefs, and misconceptions. Penn and Teller host the show, typically take an abrasively libertarian point of view, and there are usually people interviewed for the show from both sides of a given topic.
In the “Family Values” episode, the idea/institute of marriage comes under fire as impractical, restrictive and, according to one arguably misogynistic radio personality, entrapping to men, as he remarks, “[We] are paying for use of a vagina.”
One professor of History and Family Studies claims, “There is no such thing as a traditional family… the idea one man one woman, nuclear family […] that’s a pretty rare family form in history.”
Also mentioned is the fact that marriage historically was rarely about romantic love, but rather protecting family interests and assets. Arranged marriages were common, as was the existence of lovers other than one’s spouse.
While it can (and has) been pointed out that Bullshit is usually fairly one-sided, with Penn voicing over interviews rather than allowing for actual back and forth debate with said interviewees, I found enough valid points to sort of dishearten me with the idea that romantic marriage is a fairly new (and often unsuccessful) endeavor.
I’ve always considered myself a romantic at heart, and although I try to be pragmatic, I want to believe in love. That’s not to say that I think there is only one soul mate out there for any given person. Were that the case, given the size of the world and the number of people in it, it would be highly improbable that so-called “true” soul mates would find one another in their lifetime. Still, if you can find even one person you can trust, confide in, lean on, have fun with, and love, you are a lucky person.
So, considering my cognitively conflicting ideas of pragmatism and romance, I thought it over…very briefly…and decided to rephrase the question to myself.
What is marriage…to me?
In short, it doesn’t matter what the statistics say, what marriage has historically meant, what other couples are doing, what “biology” says, or even what religions say about marriage. At least not to me. The only thing that matters to me are the values I’ve internalized, the values my husband and I agreed upon when we discussed what marriage meant to us, and what we want out of our relationship. In my husband I have a friend and someone who knows my heart (and my body) well. And hopefully we can pass along our values and ideas of love on to our daughter.