House of Eratosthenes

Woke up somewhere around one in the morning. There was some other stupid family sitcom from about twenty-five years ago, give or take. The matriarch of the household was studying for her G.E.D. so she could get a better job, and the Lord of the Manor was throwing some kind of hissy-fit that she hadn’t consulted him first, and trying to stop her…to lay down the LAW. She started out all meek and submissive, and then chose to assert herself.

I nodded off again, this time until the coffeemaker went off. This time there was an entirely different family sitcom, in which the woman wore a black wig over her blond hair and the man was having some kind of conniption, once again trying to lay down the LAW. She once again, started out contrite, and then again, chose to assert herself.

It’s interesting watching what passes for comedy in one eon, through the lens of history in some “future” eon. It helps to restore your perspective. Like for example — how is it an entire society got fooled, for a whole generation, into thinking this was entertainment? Some hotshot television producer who doesn’t know jack-squat about real domestic squabbles, assembles a theatrical troop to tell those filthy commoners what they are arguing about in their living rooms, and a bunch of other bigwigs who also wouldn’t know a real domestic squabble even if it bit ’em square in what passes for their testes, get together and green-light it.

I’ve married and dated some dimwit women in my time, and it’s probably fair to say of all the tiffs you can possibly have with each other under a roof, I’ve participated in…well…probably most of them. Which is not a badge of honor by any means, but after such a sumptuous banquet I doubt there are too many dishes left from which I haven’t sampled. Trust me. TRUST me…I have never, ever, squabbled with a woman about her hair color, or thrown some kind of bitch-pitch because she wanted to acquire some new skills and make herself a better person.

This is where I get e-mail from petulant women who actually went through the experience. Save yourselves some time; I’m sure here and there, it’s happened, just like lightning strikes people sometimes, and sometimes jet planes crash into mountains. My issue is with how often such things happen — the frequency. Already, the patriarch who has some kind of beef with his wife or paramour making more money, is Number One on my list of Things I Doubt. I don’t personally know of any man who has this peeve, nor have I ever. It can’t be that common.

Why make that the point of something that is supposed to be comedy? Is this some kind of hidden agenda? Kind of a “we’ll pretend to be entertaining you, but what we’re really going to do is lecture you to be more supportive of that womens’ lib stuff.” Now and then, this can be overlooked I suppose. “Comedies” can be poignant, and every now and then they can stop being funny. I can see how this adds depth. But why should an entire generation have been defined this way?

It’s fair to say some pudgy middle-aged guy falling asleep in front of the retro-channel when he should be in bed, jolting himself awake every two hours to see what’s on the boob tube at that minute, is something of a “random sampling.” And if it’s fair to say that, what does it say that my random sampling continually ambushes me with another snotty, whimpering lecture from the Hollywood ivory-tower types, who are essentially complete strangers, that we should stop being such chauvinists and bigots? That isn’t what I call “now and then”; this is closer to what I would call “all the damn time.” And at that point, it ceases to be comedy.

It has to, right?

One more thought: If what we’re seeing here is some definition of what feminism really is, or is supposed to be, I have to ask if it was supposed to add to this assortment of other definitions, or replace them. If it is additive, well then that was quite the menagerie of agendas we went through all those years ago, wasn’t it? Given that they were all arranged under the singular banner of “feminism”? I mean, what are we up to…equal pay for equal worth; womens’ right to abort pregnancies; women going to work if they want to; smashing the glass ceiling, which is a somewhat different item from allowing women to work in the first place; coercing men into doing more chores, even if their wives are among the ones who DON’T work; promoting cultural icons of heroes who are more sensitive and less masculine, and heroines who are more caustic and unfriendly, and less feminine; making it artificially difficult to open strip bars, or to patronize them.

To that overly-complex stewpot we should toss in some other issues that seem, on the surface, to be gender neutral — but are designed to appeal to the female mindset. Things that wouldn’t have had a prayer of passage before suffrage. Nanny-state stuff. Wage and price controls, universal health care, hate crime laws, mandatory sensitivity training.

And now we have: Encouraging family squabbles about hair color and other such trivial nonsense.

Looking back on the feminist movement — if it was more sincere, wouldn’t it have been somewhat simpler?

I oppose illegal immigration. Some people agree with me, because they’re a bunch of damned racists…and people like me, are engaged in a never-ending struggle to promote our cause, while separating ourselves from people like them. That job is NEVER done. Well…some feminists support equal-pay for equal-worth, because that’s fair — and other feminists genuinely hate men. The sitcoms I saw last night, were put together to appeal to people of both sexes who genuinely hate men. People who like to indulge in extravagant fantasies about men ordering their wives around, make your hair this color, don’t get an education, don’t work. I don’t think equal-pay for equal-worth has an awful lot to do with that. This was hate, pure and simple, disguised as something that was supposed to draw laughter.

Not as bad as feeding Christians to lions…but sort of meandering off in that general direction. And we’re still tolerating it after thirty-five years.

How come equivalent pressure wasn’t put on the feminists, and still isn’t put on them to this very day, to clarify the message so the rest of us can be assured that hate isn’t part of it?

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Memo For File XLVThursday, August 30th, 2007

Memo For File XLV
Thursday, August 30th, 2007