Personal Musings category archive

For several days, I’ve kept a tab open in my browser pointing to a column by Joanna Weiss, because I’ve been toying with posting about The Help, despite not seeing the movie and, indeed, have no desire to see it.

I first heard of the book from a “Readers’ Review” episode of the Diane Rehm Show. The show was at times enthralling and affecting, not so much from the discussion of the book itself, but from the phone calls: it evoked the listener callers, many raised in the South during the time in which the book was set, to tell engrossing and sometimes disturbing stories from their own pasts.

What has struck me is the reaction of black bloggers and writers whom I respect to the movie: it has ranged from ambivalent, illustrated by this from Leonard Pitts, Jr., to derivisive, as these from Chancey de Vega and Field. (I commend de Vega’s, in particular, to your attention.)

So I shall content myself with quoting Alberta Brooks, whose memories of working as “a help” are discussed today in the Chicago Trib. Here’s a snippet:

My sister worked as an aide at the black high school in Gary (Indiana–ed.), helping out in the classroom and in the cafeteria. But by me being so young with only a high school education, there were only certain jobs I could get. So when we saw an ad for a maid in the newspaper, we got on the bus and went over there.

We knocked on the front door and when the lady answered, she directed us to go around to the back door.

On the farm in Arkansas, we had always entered the white people’s house through the front door. I guess it was because we lived on their property and they had known us all their lives. In fact, one of their young daughters gave me my name when I was born. She named me after herself, Alberta.

Now that I was up North, I never expected that white people would send you to the back. Nevertheless, I did what I was told because I had no other choice.

They were evil times.

And some would bring them back.

Have you ever noticed that, when God talks to Republicans, he always tells them exactly what they want to hear, even though the answer to one contradicts the answer to the other?

Am I the only person who finds the increasing tendency to refer to soldiers and sailors as “warriors” kind of creepy?

I don’t consider Sparta an ideal role model for a state.

There was once a radio mystery series called The Fat Man, loosely based on Sidney Greenstreet’s character in The Maltese Falcon (“loosely” in the sense that the Sidney Greenstreet character was called “the fat man”).

The stories opened with the Fat Man’s going into a drugstore and weighing himself on the penny scale (remember pennies?). The announcer intoned,

Weight, two hundred and thirty-nine pounds. Fortune: Danger.

Back in those days, 239 pounds was considered fat. Today, it appears to be the new normal.

I find the growth of what I can only describe as militant atheism rather troubling.

Now, I have no problem with atheism. I’m not an atheist, but I can understand the reasoning that can lead to that position because, ultimately, questions of faith cannot be proven. That’s why it’s called “faith.” (And, as I told an atheist friend of mine, if I’m wrong, I’m just as dead.)

I do find the crusading tone of some atheists in the public square rather troubling, because it is becoming strident, obnoxious, and crusading; strident, obnoxious crusaders don’t win friends and influence people, at least, not in the way they expect to. Their rationality has gone full-circle to fanaticism.

I suspect that this tone is a backlash against right-wing fundamentalism, which has morphed from a religious persuasion to a political one and long ago achieved fanaticism.

Thoreau makes an interesting observation:

Now, I’m aware that the critics of religion have serious arguments that have nothing to do with the stupidity of young earth creationism, but I think she’s right: Most people who are big into atheism seem to have spent a lot of time arguing with young earth creationists. It’s almost as if when one become an atheist they immediately get issued a book on evolution. On the flip side, some familiarity with arguments for design of living organisms seems to almost be a prerequisite for membership in a fundamentalist Christian church.

The creation myths of the Israelites have nothing to do with Christianity.

Those from either side of this argument who believe they do miss the point of the life and teachings of Jesus.

MarketWatch explains:

Why do advertising agencies think that extreme closeups of greasy, gooey, poorly prepared, cardboard cutout, unappetizing food will somehow make it appetizing?

Given that effective government is the protector of civilization and that taxes are the price of effective government, then what conclusions must we draw about those who would hobble government and would pay no taxes?

The story of Bushonomics as told by telly vision listings:

Flip this House fades.

Hardcore Pawn rises.

While I was watching the Phillies clip the Cardinals’ wings last night, I went through my blogroll and deleted a number of sites that no longer interest me, are no longer active, or are no longer relevant (such as a number of the early blog listing sites).

I will be adding some new sites over the next few days, but, since no one looks at sidebars, I will likely be the only person who notices.

The one site that caused me a pang when I deleted it was Jon Swift, for the author, one of the best satirists to grace the internet or, for that matter, the English language, passed away two years ago.

Gone from my blogroll, but not from the memories of those who appreciated the skill with which he exercised his scalpel and his kindness and generosity to new bloggers.

How many on-target drone strikes must a CIA agent direct before he levels up?

I don’t think that the NRCC will be wasting my time on the telly phone again.

Jay Leno:

This is why Twitter exists. Members of Congress can now send you pictures of their penises electronically. Remember the old days of Senator Larry Craig when you had to get in your car, drive to the airport, find the airport bathroom, try to figure out which stall he’s in, knock on the door…Now they send it right to your house.

I recently listened to this episode of the Diane Rehm show, in which a panel of Beltway insiders discussed Congressman Weiner’s twits. (You can listen or read the transcript at the link.)

There wasn’t much new in the discussion. The Congressman has brought so much dumb to the table that one of the panelists reported using his behavior as a tool to teach the family teenagers that the internet is, indeed, a public place.

What most struck me, though, was the smug sanctimonious self-righteousness of the panel as it was shocked! shocked! SHOCKED! at someone’s doing something stupid while under the influence of male hotness delusion syndrome and at his attempts to deny it.

In America, parents can’t talk with their kids about sex; hell, they can’t even admit to it.

It is not surprising that someone would have difficulty talking to a howling pack of press jackals.

Clearly, none of the panel had ever succumbed to the temptation to do something stupid while under the influence of hormones or attempted to deny it when caught out.

Americans’ attitudes towards all things sexual are seriously bent, a sewer of fantasies in an uptight suit, glorifying hyper-sexual imagery, vicariously celebrating celebutards and their sex tapes, snickering at snookis, while quivering in fear and fiction and denial when confronting actual sexuality in any form. (See the note below.)

Congressman Weiner was stupid. If he were a run-of-the-mill employee in private industry or civil service, he likely would have been disciplined, possibly fired, by now. Indeed, by the time this posts, he may well be gone.

This does not make the public circus any less stupid.

Daniel Denvir addressed thia at the Guardian. An excerpt:

The reaction to Weiner’s misbehaviour is predictably lame. Older America carries on: one people by day, another nation entirely by the computer’s soft glow – while young people immortalise their crotches far beyond the walls of high school restrooms. The media could better spending (sic) its time unravelling this tangled sex-knot of mass repression and compulsory exhibitionism.

Asides:

(This is the blue plate special; it comes with two asides)

In a tangentially related article, Suzanne Moore points out what’s behind the hyper-sexual imagery I mentioned above.

It’s not libido; it’s marketing, marketing to and via libido. Sex sells, even as it is illegal to sell sex:

The awkward encounter between the right and feminism is premised on this daft word, sexualisation. So let’s call it as it is. We are talking really about commercialisation.

Also, this “I’m going to rehab now” is no more than today’s version of “I must have been possessed”–blame-shifting.

Except possibly in the case of psychopaths, “sex addiction” has become a synonym for “getting away with bad behavior just because I can.” The beneficiaries of a diagnosis of “sex addiction” are “sex addiction therapists.”

The Note Below:

I have nothing against sexual imagery.

Indeed, I quite appreciate sexual imagery.

Just don’t pretend it’s something else, like a swimsuit review, when it is clearly what it is.

I do have something against willful ignorance salted with crocodile tears.

Doug J at Balloon Juice:

What I’ve never understood about “what will the children think” is that it is always applied to something trivial, usually to consensual sexual relations among adults. No one ever asks “what will the children think about genocide in the Sudan?” or “what will the children think about the government torturing people?”. I can remember as a kid, listening to the news and hearing of horrible atrocities and being genuinely troubled by it . . . .

He has a point.

I remember sitting on the porch swing at Pine View Farm at about age seven wondering whether the nuclear bombs that would be dropped on The World’s Largest Military Complex(TM) across the bay when World War II started would take us out to (yes, they likely would have).

Some years later, when I was becoming curious about what Doug J. refers to as “consensual sexual relations,” I couldn’t get a straight answer out of anyone. I couldn’t even get any help in figuring out what the hell I was curious about.

Grown-ups are weird.

Where’s my jet pack?

“Plain vanilla” is not a perjorative.

It’s a compliment.

The media, even the funny pages, have Memorial Day tributes to those who have served and, perhaps, fallen for this country. The radio is playing patriotic music. Flags are everywhere, outnumbered only by the “Big Sale” signs.

Sad thoughts interspersed with beach-goers and shoppers and jingoism.

Now consider those (or their sons or daughters or brothers or sisters or fathers or mothers) who were sent into harm’s way and perhaps did not return for unjust or fabricated cause.

Is their sacrifice greater or lesser?

I would argue that it is greater, for they have served with honor those who betrayed their honor.

Persons like to prattle about speaking truth to power.

Mark Memorial Day by resolving to demand truth from power.

I have been feeling none of the triumphalism that seems to have greeted the killing of Osama bin Laden.

I do not regret it, not that my regrets are here or there, but celebration seems rather a wrong reaction.

I think this, from@ericfiddler on Twitter via Mr. Feastingonroadkill, encapsulates why.

Remember on Sept 12, 2001 when you saw people in some places abroad celebrating death? Exactly. Don’t be like that.

My mother, who retired from teaching over two decades ago, once said that the biggest change she had observed during her career was this:

When she started, if little Johnny got into trouble, the parent would call and say, “What did the little bastard do today?” (only she would never have said “bastard”).

By the time she retired, that same phone call would start, “How dare you mistreat my little darling. He didn’t do it.”

It appears to have gotten much worse.

A school official speaks out. A nugget:

Members of Generation X, born between 1965 and 1979, now constitute most parents of school-age children. As an educator, I can identify a typical Gen X parent immediately.

Gen Xers orchestrate every move of their preschoolers, from perfect play dates and obsessively healthy diets, to instructional flashcards and hypoallergenic socks.

Once school starts, Gen X parents may become upset to discover other students doing more advanced work than their own, demanding a meeting with the principal about why the teacher is “letting their child fall behind.” Of course the parents have done their research, identified the problem, and it’s clearly the school’s fault that their child is “underperforming” — in kindergarten.

Indeed, a Gen X parent holds her child’s self-esteem as something to be protected at any cost. Gone are the days of the “helicopter parent,” hovering obsessively to make sure little Taylor is prepared for success. Gen Xers are “snowplow parents,” knocking all potential obstacles out of their children’s paths to pack their young résumés with successes.

I have long thought that parents take themselves and their children far too seriously. If you get the kids to adulthood so that they can be responsible, moral, and functioning citizens and persons, that’s doing a damned good job. Anything else is gravy.

As someone–I wish I could remember who–once said to me, “When you’re raising kids, if you do one more thing right than you do wrong, you’re going to be a good parent.”

Thank heavens that’s over.

Now our media can go back to covering important things, such as LIndsey Charlie Paris Keira Hilton Sheen Kim Knightly Snookidashian.