To contrast with yesterday’s post about Prince Harry’s royal cuckery, here’s an example from across the pond about the right way to approach a girl infected with social justice nonsense and feminist dogma. Actor Laurence Fox, who plays a police sergeant in Lewis, a program my parents watch, has sworn off dating Leftist girls, and women under 35 in general.
Proverbs 31:10 says that a virtuous wife’s “worth is far above rubies” (NKJV). Quite true. These days, they’re about as rare as rubies, if not more so.
That being the case, the converse must also be true: if a virtuous wife is worth more than rubies, then a corrupt wife will cost you everything. In the case of Prince Henry, Duke of Sussex, it cost him the Crown Jewels.
Earlier this week, I finally had the opportunity to watch Joker, the movie that DC got right (I also watched black-and-white indie film The Lighthouse, which I also heartily recommend). It’s one of those films that has stuck with me, as I keep contemplating its title character’s woeful arc.
That’s unusual for a superhero movie. I’m not a film snob, and I enjoy the action-packed, high-gloss hilarity of [insert Marvel Cinematic Universe movie here]. But I’ve usually forgotten most of the details of those superhero movies by the time I get home from the theater.
Joker is different. Indeed, I wouldn’t even call it a “superhero” (or even a super villain) movie. Yes, it’s the origin story of the The Joker, Batman’s greatest rival. It does follow some of the tropes of the standalone superhero flick: the discovery of the character’s powers (in this case, a 38 Special and mental illness), his utilization of those powers, and his full acceptance of his new role.
But it’s more than a superhero flick. It’s the brooding, angsty cry of a generation.
Today’s post is something straight out of Dalrock’s excellent blog: a couple in Florida decided to take the last name of whoever won a coin toss.
Here is the image from the article:
A picture is worth a thousand soyboys. I sent this article to my younger brother, sister-in-law, and girlfriend yesterday, and my brother commented, “The entire aesthetic of the lady officiant makes me think of one of these dystopian sci-fi settings where there’s one secular religion imposed by the State.” Amen.
I will add: the bride’s (Darcy’s) reaction to winning the coin toss speaks volumes. She’s clearly gloating at winning an arbitrary coin toss that strips her husband of his last remaining shred of masculine dignity. And the look on the groom’s (Jeff’s) face suggests he is not pleased with the outcome.
Of course, Jeff will never admit this fact. Here is a particularly cringe-inducing excerpt:
At the altar of their Dec. 14 wedding, they flipped a brass, engraved medallion, one side with Darcy’s last name, and the other with Jeff’s surname.
“It’s fair. I am a graduate student in economics at Florida State and I think about fairness,” Jeff told the Palm Beach Post.
“Being with someone who was willing to start the marriage from a creative and teamwork and fair place felt like a really good first step toward an equal partnership,” Darcy, a nurse-midwife, added.
When the time came, it was Darcy’s name that won out. Mr. and Mrs. Ward were thrilled with the result.
“You could say I won,” Jeff said. “I was the one who received something new.”
The phrase “I am a graduate student in economics at Florida State and I think about fairness” perfectly encapsulates the clueless virtue-signalling of noodle-wristed academics. Jeff is saying, “I’m smart, so I know better than centuries of tradition.”
His claim that he “won” because he “received something new” is protesting too much. Jeff knows that what he and his wife have done is ludicrous—otherwise it wouldn’t make the New York Post—and emasculating, so he’s attempting to save face with a ex post facto justification.
The hyphenation of last names, or wives keeping their maiden names, may seem like a small personal choice, but it’s one of the thousand little cuts against traditional marriage. Marriage is the coming together of two people into one, with the husband as the spiritual leader. Taking her husband’s last name is a significant demonstration of devotion and fidelity. It also serves the practical purpose of confirming paternity and keeping fathers responsible to their children.
It might seem like I’m making a big deal over a small decision—“it’s just a name, TPP.” Well, what’s in a name? Surely there is some symbolic and practical significance to taking a husband’s name.
Further, I’d be more amenable to such arguments if we hadn’t seen the systematic destruction of marriage over the last 100 years. That destruction began with baby steps. Anything we can do to shore up traditional marriage is a positive good.
I completely understand the special cases: academics retaining their maiden names professionally, for example. But a wife should not begrudge her husband for becoming one with him—that’s a recipe for a failed marriage. Besides, no kid wants to be saddled with a hyphenated last name.
Let’s hope Jeff and Darcy make it. My instincts tell me they won’t. Darcy is clearly the “man” in this relationship, and Jeff is not. Whether they realize it or not, that’s going to breed a great deal of unhappiness and strife.
I hope I’m wrong, for their sake.
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This coming January, two theatrical events will occur: I’m playing the role of “Brett,” the father of a drug-addicted son, in a play one of my former students wrote called Catching Icarus (the hook: both acts take place in a Waffle House in South Carolina); and the Senate trial against President Trump will (allegedly) begin.
From the rehearsals I’ve been to so far, I can say that acting is difficult—and I get to spend most of the first act in a booth drinking coffee. It takes a special kind of conviction (or delusion) to invest in a role, to become another person.
For congressional Democrats, they sure seem right at home on the political stage. They are masters of the kabuki theatre of outrage.
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While driving home from work, I heard a little news bulletin on the radio about controversy surrounding a recent Peloton ad. Peloton is some kind of high-end exercise bike that features videos of instructors shouting at you in that obnoxious, oddly stentorian way that hyper-motivational athletic types use when coaching quasi-sports for middle-aged women. You know the kind of voice I mean.
Apparently, the ad is “cringeworthy” because it features a woman working out, and then thanking her husband for the gift (presumably on the Christmas following the one where she received the bike). Also, the woman is attractive and already thin; never mind that we’re supposed to be “healthy at any size” (a concept, as my girlfriend explained to me, that does not mean we pretend 400-pound land monsters gobbling dozens of Quarter Pounders a day are “healthy,” but that a person can pursue a healthy lifestyle even if he’s morbidly obese).
The shrill feminists denouncing the ad are saying that the husband is shaming his wife into becoming even thinner—never mind that maybe she wanted an easy way to workout at home (skinny people can be unhealthy in their habits, too). Throughout the commercial, the wife records her progress, and critics are pointing out the anxious look on her face, suggesting she’s pleading for her husband’s affection.
Give me a break.
Last week’s posts had me diving into the blogs of some good friends. Friday’s post featured blogger and musician friend fridrix’s Corporate History International. Wednesday’s post looked at the writings of another blogger friend, Bette Cox. And I daily read the blogs of photog (Orion’s Cold Fire) and Nebraska Energy Observer. Indeed, one of the joys of blogging is discovering other bloggers’ work (I almost forgot Gordon Scheaffer‘s excellent history blog, Practically Historical).
In the spirit of these intrepid citizen journalists and commentators—and the cheeky fun and intellectual grit of their blogs—I thought I should pay homage to the posts that, when I’m struggling with writer’s block, helped me slap together some daily content.
I’ll be presenting these posts in chronological order in which I initially reblogged them, so if you don’t show up these week, Internet Friends, don’t worry; you’ll make it up here eventually!
That situation leads to frustration among society’s straight-man. Why do rule followers get the brunt of the state’s terrible force, but criminals blatantly break the rules, and get off scot-free? It’s a recipe for an awakening.
That’s it for this week. Enjoy the waning hours of your glorious weekend!
—TPP
Other Lazy Sunday Installments:
Next to Halloween and Christmas, today is the most wonderful of the year—it’s the day that the clock falls back an hour! Sure, that means I’ll never see the sun for the next few months, as I’ll spend the dwindling daylight hours inside a classroom, but at least I got an extra hour of sleep this morning.
This week saw a good bit of reflecting on what is important in life (like ghost stories), so I thought it would be a good opportunity to reflect on “The Desperate Search for Meaning” series of posts. It will also help to aggregate those posts into one place.
“Even if our elites aren’t specifically Satanists, they’re certainly not Christians. Their religion is progressivism, an jumble of ideologies that, at bottoms, rejects Christianity and its view of human nature. Their gods are power and envy—just like Lucifer.”
That’s it for this Sunday. Going back through this posts really makes my soul ache for the people that fall for New Age nonsense and neo-paganism. Good thing I’ve found the One True Faith—the Southern branch of the Free Will Baptist denomination. 😀
Happy Sunday!
—TPP
Other Lazy Sunday Installments:
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It was a wild Halloween Week for yours portly. Halloween itself saw a tornado warning while trick-or-treating with the little ones, before the typically muggy weather turned into a frosty All Saints’ Day overnight. Brrrr!
Meteorological phenomena aside, it was also Homecoming Week at the little private school where I teach. That brings its own mix of fun and tornadoes.
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This week’s Lazy Sunday picks up from last week’s edition, “Lazy Sunday XXX: Trump, Part I.” Our perpetually embattled POTUS/GEOTUS continues to fight back against the screeching Leftists:
Well, that’s it for this Sunday. Enjoy your Columbus Day tomorrow!
–TPP
Other Lazy Sunday Installments:
The Portly Politico 