August 21st, 2009

nice

Three Waspish Observations

Because it is & has been stiflingly hot in my flat, I am hungry and out of tea, and the state refused to give me a fiscal hardship deferment on jury duty this month despite my being a minimum wage worker, sole provider, and my rent going up, you get these without any diplomatic amelioration whatsoever:


1) People who are unwilling to teach in a timely fashion their offspring the truth about the nature of their own physical bodies and the society into which they have been born and must live as adults should get a puppy or kitten instead, since they are legally allowed to have a puppy or kitten neutered in infancy and thus never, ever have to even think about its sexuality, let alone have The Talk, or worse yet, Talks with it, thus preserving their precious mental innocence and fantasies of a world without mess and complexity. --Though probably anyone that immature should just stick with stuffed animals & dolls instead.


2) Spirit of the Sixties Redux: Plus ça change, baby, plus ça fucking change! (hat tip to dmsmilev again).


3) No, you're not.



Nobody who is working a day job in an industrial complex in southern New Hampshire is John Galt. Not even if you own the company. In fact, there's only one person working in the Millyard who could conceivably be a candidate for Galthood, and he's like the anti-Galt when it comes to idealism/altruism (even if occasionally it becomes clear that he needs some cold-water-throwers around to keep him anchored.)
st dogbert

Soylent Granny Icefloe Bars, part 3*

"Timor Mortis conturbat me"


--"The fear of death confounds me" This dread of the inevitability of our own singular personal terminations combined with the (fortunately-mostly-fantasized) willingness to inflict death upon innumerable strangers is a grotesque enough hallmark of conservativism as it has existed for as long as I've been alive in this country, and based on my readings of writings from both elsewhere in the Anglosphere and before my time: the warmongering chicken-hawk, tough-on-[some]-crimes, "are there no workhouses? better they should die &c" Podsnaps of the world shivering in fear of "the rabble" they require to batten on is not a modern invention, nor an invention at all, alas.

It becomes even more grotesque when this fear-hate of the Imagined Others Under The Bed/At The Gates Coming To Get Us combined with the contemptuous metaphorical stepping-over of the bodies of the Undeserving Poor lying sick and hungry at their gates gets also combined with a sticky sentimentality falsely called "Being Pro-life" - again, something which I've seen up close and personal in the movement since aught-seventy-something - that doesn't require anything but melodramatic words, the generation of bathos and voting Republican year in, year out. (Picketing, leafleting, and violence are all optional.)

It certainly doesn't require any actual sacrifices to help protect "the sanctity of life" (which only matters off the battlefield, and enemy civilians aren't really civilians at all in Modern Warfare(TM) as I have often been told by other conservatives over the decades) and as soon as anyone suggests that even the possibility of some sort of mild fiscal sacrifice being required of them to help save the lives Collapse )