Archive for November, 2009

Shmide and Shmejudice


About a week ago I went to the library to get The Kite runner. Checked out.

I looked for The Lovely Bones. Checked out.

Needing a book and finding myself with a blank mind I finally caved in and got Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

Snore.

I have been putting this off for years – partly due to my possession of a Y Chromosome and increased recently due to the parting of a rabid Austenite from my life – but in the face of dwindling alternatives I attempt now to get it over and done with.

It doesn’t help that I already know, to excruciating detail, the progress and ending of this book. Thanks to the 700 film versions out there in the market (that means you too Carmen Rasmussen) I already know full well that Mr. Whickam is a dirt-bag, Mr. Bingely will return and marry Jane and Mr. and Mrs. indifference themselves (not what they posses, what I have for them) will get over their uppity self-assuredness and fall into a stupor of incandescently joyous love.

Spare me.

The one interesting thing that I’ve read so far has come from Charlotte Lucas (she’s the “ugly” one) where she says:

“In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show more affection than she feels.”

You hear that boys and girls! Jane Austen, the author of the century in the book of the century just gave a shout-out to PONGING!

Now if only the nation of weeping girls who watch the barrage of cinematic P&P interpretations — spooning mouthfuls of mouse tracks and woefully dreaming of the day their Mr. Darcy will appear — would actually learn something from their muse.

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The Test

Last night I was with a female associate when the topic of politics came up. At some point or another my friend mentioned that she didn’t know what party she was. I suggested that she take the test.

There are a number of more professional forms out there, like this one at politicalcompass.org, but not having the time, nor the means I proceeded to ask my friend a few questions.

“How do you feel about our current involvement in Iraq,” I asked.

“Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmm…”

“Okay,” I said, “let’s start with easier ones.”
“Gay marriage?”
“No.”
“Abortion?”
“No.”
“Health care?”
“No.”
For this I needed clarification. “Do you mean ‘No’ to universal health care, or to eliminate all forms of health care in general?”
“Universal.”

Seeing the emerging pattern my friend voiced some concerns.
“I think we’re a little lax on gun control,” she said.
“No way,” I replied, “If I had it my way every man, woman, and child in America would be packing heat.”

It was at this time that her roommates, eavesdropping in the other room, began laughing at my wingnut psychosis. I proceeded to explain further, in more realistic terms, why I felt that way and the unseen roommates withdrew from our conversation and began to converse amongst themselves.

“I am definitely not a republican,” one said.
“Oh yeah, definitely not,” said the other about herself.
“I wouldn’t really consider myself a democrat either,” one said.
“Oh yeah, definitely not,” said the other about herself.
“But I’m definitely not a republican,” one said.
“Oh yeah, definitely not,” said the other about herself.

In my comings and goings I have encountered this phenomenon frequently. People, especially high-school to college age individuals (and frankly women more frequently than men) love to proclaim themselves above the labels of a particular party. They claim their “independence” with a triumphant air similar to Tom Cruise on Tropic Thunder stating “we do not negotiate with terrorists” to thundering applause. The movie is a comedy, you’re supposed to laugh at that scene and I did.

It’s a cop-out.

To say that you don’t belong to a particular party is synonymous with saying that you are an uninformed, non-contributing zero.

Regardless of whether you are a registered donkey/elephant or whether you participated in the last general election, you–as a human being–exist on one side or another of the political spectrum. The beauty of the U.S. electoral college is that in only allows for two parties to dominantly exist. Over time these two parties have grown to be “catch-alls” where instead of a clear set of ideological values, we have two giant umbrellas that face left and right along the imaginary scale.

Republican=conservative. Democrat=liberal. You ARE one of those things. There are other parties that frankly do a better job of establishing a coherent platform–i.e. libertarian, reform, constitution, green–but in the grand scheme they are lumped into one of the two larger categories…along with you and everyone you know.

You party does not define your beliefs, your beliefs define your party.

In all actuality, my friend’s roommates who are “definitely” not Republicans are most CERTAINLY conservatives–two LDS Utahns looking for a husband at USU.

My political preferences are known. That said, I have a respect and admiration for Democrats who are truly democrats, who ideologically believe in what they purport. My beef comes from the mindless masses of my peers that are merely liberal by association. They grew up in the anti-bush decade of Green Day, The Dixie Chicks and Russel Brand and being liberal is “the cool thing to do.” I urge them to take the test, if anything it will end their Swiss “armed neutrality” and they might be surprised with what they find.

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R.I.P. WVW


On July 19, 2009 Dave and I created a blog. The idea was to document the politically incorrect, partisan, and ofttimes outlandish arguments that are common among us for the enjoyment and reading pleasure of others.

We spoke of celebrity, poverty, homosexuality, Alexis Bledel, reproduction, nuptials, underwear, Damien Rice, freshman, economics, chemistry, and many others timely issues.

We laughed, we cried, and more than once we hit below the belt all in the name of the free exchange of ideas: for great minds often disagree.

It has now been one month since the last post on WVW. It sits there, solitary and alone like the last child picked at recess. Questions unanswered, points uncontested, purpose…unknown. It droops its head in sadness, rubbing its hands behind its back and digging its toes into the ground.

Where did the time go? How did it come to this?

For those of you that were readers, I apologize for letting you down. We have failed you, just as we have failed ourselves. If you never stumbled upon WVW, do not go down that path, it is a lost, dreary wasteland that will only bring you sadness.

As it is, the final post is my own. Finding myself without my opponent I am forced to claim the ultimate victory. I take my crown with a heavy heart, I did not wish this. I would have fought till the end, but alas the game is forfeit and victory, by default, is mine.

Goodbye WVW, perhaps someday we will see you again. I do not dare to hope, I must be strong now.

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