DSK, The Dodo, and The Destroyer of Worlds

I tend to harp on things I noticed as an ex-pat that I found superior to American things. Time for a reality check, though. There are a few things Americans do way better. Rap, punk, innovative art and writing and poetry and film…all of those things are things we do really, really well. OK, we often do them better than our neighbors across the pond. Ever heard French rap? It’s unbelievably silly-sounding.

Here’s something else we do better: we don’t do shit like this:

DSK’s Wife Voted France’s Most Admired Woman.

Ick. Nast.

I have never understood how it’s seen as courageous or admirable for women to stand by the men who routinely (and publicly) humiliate them. Because it’s not courageous. It would be courageous to tell them to fuck off and be a single mother. It would be admirable be to tell the world that, even though you find your husband’s personal behavior repugnant and inexcusable, maybe that shouldn’t reflect on his professional behavior. But excusing your husband’s behavior and staying with him? That’s not only weak-minded, but it reflects misandry in its purest form.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for a bit of misandry now and then. Lord knows the bit that lives in the darkest regions on my own psyche grew a thousand times the day my first child was born. While the scientist in me might think Valerie Solanas was technically accurate in some of her findings (if crazy as a shit-house rat in general)–and while I might understand the scientific argument detailing the innate and evolutionary biological imperative to spread seed far and wide–there are times when cold, hard science needs to be ever-so-subtly integrated into societal life. Like the H-bomb, for example: while it may be true (and kind of a cool idea) that one can harness, and then release, the power behind the strong nuclear force, maybe it’s not such a great idea.

So while it may seem I’m being a feminazi man-hater for saying these women who’ve been publicly humiliated should up and leave their husbands, I will argue that I am actually arguing on the pro-men side. Men are, after all, people, and not merely a collective of hormonal and instinctual imperatives derived from eons of nigh impossible living conditions. Living conditions right now may not be ideal (in that I can’t afford for everyone in the family to have a new iPad for Christmas), but they’re not like they were (in that I’m reasonably certain neither of my kids will be eaten by a large hungry beast in the next couple of hours). As such, the behavior borne from those conditions can be modified. And should, if we expect both genders to coexist happily.

To be clear: if you’re into polyamory, good for you. If you’re not, that’s fine too. But conditions of a relationship
should be outlined at its inception, and then respected and adhered to equally. This notion that self control and strong will can only manifest themselves when two X chromosomes are present is absurd on its face, and repugnant at its core. And if it’s not, then what’s the implication? If only one gender can evolve-and they’ve already taken on the bread-winning role inaddition to that of child caretaker–then Valerie Solanas was right: men will be outmoded in future generations.

Granted, it may be a jump to say that, because they think long-suffering wives are something to be admired, French women are subconsciously voting for men to be an evolutionary blunder akin to the Dodo. But it’s not a huge jump.

Why Not A Nice Ratatouille?

This was all inspired by this product:

And this question:

WHY???????

A lifetime ago, I taught fitness classes at the YMCA. During my tenure there, I cannot count the number of people who used to ask me for weight loss advice and/or personal training secrets. My answer was always the same, “Eat less and exercise more. If you burn more calories than you take in, you’ll lose weight. If you don’t, you won’t.” Out of the innumerable askers, a very numerable minority took me up on it: one. Only one person out of the throng responded to the harsh reality that 1500 calories = 1 pound, no matter how you slice it or dress it up. Everyone else went for a gimmick (“Ooh, if I do a boot camp, I can eat whatever I want!” “If I only eat protein, I can eat as much as I want!” “If I starve myself for 10 days, then I can eat whatever I want for 5!”).

It’s a human trait to try to find the path of least resistance. It seems to be an American trait, however, to so stubbornly pursue shortcuts. We seem to have been so pampered, we’re on the verge of become imbecilic brats who can no longer understand what it is to take medicine that doesn’t taste exactly like an Orange Julius.

The dressing up of the problem, then, has become big business. Want to get into a good school? It can’t be that the answer is to work hard, be as well-rounded as possible, and let the chips fall where they may; instead, you must game the system in the specific way these handy dandy books’ll tell you. Want to lose weight? Drink this magical elixir (juice) with these magical pills (speed) and watch your appetite disappear (while your blood pressure skyrockets)! Too much trouble to dress yourself? Never fear! Now you don’t have to even go through the trouble of putting on a velour track suit; now there are Pajama Jeans!

I’m not going on another anti-consumerist rampage here. My problem is actually the lack of understanding we as a country show that sometimes medicine is medicine. And that’s not always that bad. There are ways to make it palatable without losing what it is in the first place.

To wit: a French friend of mine was talking to me about the huge business that is recipes for children’s food here. She said she’d been over to a friend’s house and said (very well-meaning) friend was showing her a trick to get her kid to eat carrots: just roast them with honey on top. My friend was perplexed and asked the best question ever: “Why not a nice ratatouille?”

What an excellent question, and an excellent response to all this craziness. Instead of going overboard on gimmicks and tricks and trying so hard to never ever have to realize that something might be unpleasant, why not use a simple method to make it palatable? Want to look better when you roll out of bed? Get nicer pajamas. Better yet, stop caring so much whether or not anyone sees you in pajamas. Want to get better grades? Go to class, take notes, then do the assignments. Want to lose weight? Keep going to the gym, then skip a meal once in a while (or cut back on the ones you already eat). Why not a nice ratatouille indeed?

Ron Paul Racism Flap Grosser Than His Old Man Neck Flap

It’s already been established that women are the only people Ron Paul doesn’t believe should be free to do anything they’d like. But wait! Now he’s attacking real people too! In short, he’s having to deal with charges he’s a filthy racist again:

A 1992 passage from the Ron Paul Political Report about the Los Angeles riots read, “Order was only restored in L.A. when it came time for the blacks to pick up their welfare checks.” A passage in another newsletter asserted that people with AIDS should not be allowed to eat in restaurants because “AIDS can be transmitted by saliva”; in 1990 one of his publications criticized Ronald Reagan for having gone along with the creation of the federal holiday honoring the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., which it called “Hate Whitey Day.”

Yes, he disavowed the writings before. Yes, he said he didn’t even know they were in the publications. Yes, he said they’re deplorable.

However.

This reminds me of a brilliant email debate a friend of mine had a long time ago. Part of it revolved around whether or not scholarly articles were more engaging if they were more conversational. One side stated that he found a convivial tone more conducive to understanding key concepts, and thought the personal nature of it (pronouns included) showed a more courageous stance by the author to take personal, as well as professional, ownership of the ideas being expressed in the work. The rebuttal was simple (and I’ll paraphrase it here):
Putting your name on the work implies your personal ownership. More resounding than saying, “I believe…” is putting your name at the top of any type of legitimate publication. The implication of the words contained therein, then, is always going to reflect on the name at the top, as will anything opined within the draft.

So what were the names of the publications in which the racist jargon appeared? Ron Paul Political Report, Ron Paul’s Freedom Report, Ron Paul Survival Report and Ron Paul Investment Letter.

Eep.