Alarming News: I like Morgan Freeberg. A lot.
American Digest: And I like this from "The Blog That Nobody Reads", because it is -- mostly -- about me. What can I say? I'm on an ego trip today. It won't last.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: We were following a trackback and thinking "hmmm... this is a bloody excellent post!", and then we realized that it was just part III of, well, three...Damn. I wish I'd written those.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: ...I just remembered that I found a new blog a short while ago, House of Eratosthenes, that I really like. I like his common sense approach and his curiosity when it comes to why people believe what they believe rather than just what they believe.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is brilliant.
Dr. Melissa Clouthier: Morgan Freeberg at House of Eratosthenes (pftthats a mouthful) honors big boned women in skimpy clothing. The picture there is priceless--keep scrolling down.
Exile in Portales: Via Gerard: Morgan Freeberg, a guy with a lot to say. And he speaks The Truth...and it's fascinating stuff. Worth a read, or three. Or six.
Just Muttering: Two nice pieces at House of Eratosthenes, one about a perhaps unintended effect of the Enron mess, and one on the Gore-y environ-movie.
Mein Blogovault: Make "the Blog that No One Reads" one of your daily reads.
The Virginian: I know this post will offend some people, but the author makes some good points.
Poetic Justice: Cletus! Ah gots a laiv one fer yew...
Says the flibbertigibbet, I screwed around on my husband, so I guess marriage can’t work out for anyone…plus, I get to write a column!
On marriage: Let’s call the whole thing off
Author Sandra Tsing Loh is ending her marriage. Is it time you did, too?
By Sandra Tsing Loh
updated 6:27 a.m. PT, Mon., June 22, 2009Sadly, and to my horror, I am divorcing. This was a 20-year partnership. My husband is a good man, though he did travel 20 weeks a year for work. I am a 47-year-old woman whose commitment to monogamy, at the very end, came unglued. This turn of events was a surprise. I don’t generally even enjoy men; I had an entirely manageable life and planned to go to my grave taking with me, as I do most nights to my bed, a glass of merlot and a good book. Cataclysmically changed, I disclosed everything. We cried, we bewailed the fate of our children.
And yet at the end of the day — literally during a five o’clock counseling appointment, as the golden late-afternoon sunlight spilled over the wall of Balinese masks — when given the final choice by our longtime family therapist, who stands in as our shaman, mother, or priest, I realized…no. Heart-shattering as this moment was — a gravestone sunk down on two decades of history — I would not be able to replace the romantic memory of my fellow transgressor with the more suitable image of my husband, which is what it would take in modern-therapy terms to knit our family’s domestic construct back together. In women’s-magazine parlance, I did not have the strength to “work on” falling in love again in my marriage. And as Laura Kipnis railed in “Against Love,” and as everyone knows, good relationships take work.
Which is not to say I’m against work. Indeed, what also came out that afternoon were the many tasks I — like so many other working/co-parenting/married mothers — have been doing for so many years and tearfully declared I would continue doing. I can pick up our girls from school every day; I can feed them dinner and kiss their noses and tell them stories; I can take them to their doctor and dentist appointments; I can earn my half — sometimes more — of the money…I can administer hugs as needed to children, adults, dogs, cats; I can empty the litter box; I can stir wet food into dry.
Which is to say I can work at a career and child care and joint homeownership and even platonic male-female friendship. However, in this cluttered forest of my 40s, what I cannot authentically reconjure is the ancient dream of brides, even with the Oprah fluffery of weekly “date nights,” when gauzy candlelight obscures the messy house, child talk is nixed and silky lingerie donned, so the two of you can look into each other’s eyes and feel that “spark” again. Do you see? Given my staggering working mother’s to-do list, I cannot take on yet another arduous home- and self-improvement project, that of rekindling our romance. Sobered by this failure as a mother — which is to say, my failure as a wife — I’ve since begun a journey of reading, thinking, and listening to what’s going on in other 21st-century American families. And along the way, I’ve begun to wonder, what with all the abject and swallowed misery: Why do we still insist on marriage? Sure, it made sense to agrarian families before 1900, when to farm the land, one needed two spouses, grandparents, and a raft of children. But now that we have white-collar work and washing machines, and our life expectancy has shot from 47 to 77, isn’t the idea of lifelong marriage obsolete?
:
Imagine driving with me now to Rachel’s house for our new 40-something social hobby — the Girls’ Night dinner. Leap not from my car, even though I realize — given my confessed extramarital affair, avowed childhood desire to see my father explode into flames, and carpet of tattered Happy Meal wrappers — I may not strike you as the most reliable explicator of modern marriage. Still, we forge on, and what I’d like to do now is recant for a moment and not be quite so hard on marriage, which I think is a very good fit for some people.
:
[Helen] Fisher, a women’s cult figure and an anthropologist, has long argued that falling in love — and falling out of love — is part of our evolutionary biology and that humans are programmed not for lifelong monogamy, but for serial monogamy.“Why Him? Why Her?” explains the hormonal forces that trigger humans to be romantically attracted to some people and not to others (a phenomenon also documented in the animal world). Fisher posits that each of us gets dosed in the womb with different levels of hormones that impel us toward one of four basic personality types:
The Explorer — the libidinous, creative adventurer who acts “on the spur of the moment.” Operative neurochemical: dopamine.
The Builder — the much calmer person who has “traditional values.” The Builder also “would rather have loyal friends than interesting friends,” enjoys routines, and places a high priority on taking care of his or her possessions. Operative neurotransmitter: serotonin.
The Director — the “analytical and logical” thinker who enjoys a good argument. The Director wants to discover all the features of his or her new camera or computer. Operative hormone: testosterone.
The Negotiator — the touchy-feely communicator who imagines “both wonderful and horrible things happening” to him- or herself. Operative hormone: estrogen, then oxytocin.
Fisher reviewed personality data from 39,913 members of Chemistry.com. Explorers made up 26 percent of the sample, Builders 28.6 percent, Directors 16.3 percent, Negotiators 29.1 percent. While Explorers tend to be attracted to Explorers, and Builders tend to be attracted to Builders, Directors are attracted to Negotiators, and vice versa.
Exclaims Ellen, slapping the book: “This is why my marriage has been dead for 15 years. I’m an Explorer married to a Builder!”
The nitwit. Guess Fisher forgot about that fifth one there. Poor schmucks that are married to these nitwits; they’re about to lose half their stuff because they made the awful mistake of allowing their nitwit wives to read books.
Yup, it’s really as bad as people think it is. Middle-aged married women with a Cinderella complex, angry that life isn’t perfect and stress free, get all sauced up and talk each other into divorces. Then they bury their gross wrinkly noses in hateful chick-books carefully designed to expunge any doubts about it that might remain, download some hunky stud off the innerwebs, and the poor schlub who was stupid enough to marry them loses half his stuff.
And then they become authorities on marriage, graciously counseling women who are more mature and mentally balanced than they are. Making craploads of money, if they get lucky…and still pulling in that alimony check. So that girls’-night-out wine-buying slush fund stays all slushy.
This is the kind of thing that makes me think our whole society needs a reboot. In a number of our most treasured institutions, the rules are made by whoever among us have proven themselves to be, without any doubt, the most dysfunctional.
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I’ll tell you one thing marriage doesn’t need: a federal subsidy. Has anyone noticed that all subsidies lower the quality and raise the cost of whatever is being subsidized? I’m willing to bet that if we end the federal subsidy, we’ll see marriage return to the high-quality use it originally had.
At the very least, other people won’t be forced to support someone else’s marriage.
- JohnJ | 07/02/2009 @ 23:26She’s obviously a democrat.
- pdwalker | 07/02/2009 @ 23:57I only got through a few paragraphs before I thought “She’s a cunt.” I’m glad I didn’t give up on my marriage as quickly as she did. I pray for her children.
- chunt31854 | 07/03/2009 @ 07:02Well, double-damn. I’ve seen this frickin’ movie. Or rather, reluctantly co-starred in it. I didn’t chase the whole article, the excerpts were enough… I think. But the similarities are eerie: what I thought was a stable 23-year relationship, screwed over by an affair, both women in their mid-40s (well, mine was 42), yadda, yadda. But My Beloved went right from my house to The Other’s and they remain married ten years on. One wonders if that one will last…
- bpenni | 07/03/2009 @ 10:03She’s obviously a democrat.
Worthy of debating. The typical democrat would point out there is a certain Sanfordness about her behavior, and I’d have to agree. Except Gov. Sanford impresses me as a profoundly sick individual possessing questionable mental competence. And she’s just a lazy, selfish slut.
But all the democrat ingredients are there, huh. The “One Guy Gets a Flat Tire We Have to Un-Invent The Car” thing. The group-politics. Individuals play no role, except to be helpless victims, to feel sorry for each other. Even pulling out the strong stuff and getting schnockered — has to be a group activity.
I only got through a few paragraphs before I thought “She’s a cunt.”
Even the FARK kids had very little sympathy for her.
- mkfreeberg | 07/03/2009 @ 10:06I’ve always looked askance at the phrase serial monogamy because it’s a deliberate confusion of terms. What’s really being referred to is serial polygamy, with the multiple spouses separated in time rather than in space.
- Kelly | 07/03/2009 @ 10:15At least I give her points for recognizing herself as a transgressor and a failure; some honest self-awareness, at least.
Do you see? Given my staggering working mother’s to-do list, I cannot take on yet another arduous home- and self-improvement project, that of rekindling our romance.
But she found time to have an extramarital affair??
Affairs require a lot of time, energy and commitment. Cheating isn’t easy, it’s a hell of a lot of work to keep that secret and steal time from the family.
I get so damn tired of people’s lousy excuses for the choices they make. She wants approval for destroying her family and having too much on her litter changing schedule to spend time restoring the marriage. It’s really not her fault (boo hoo), it’s just that marriage overall is a dumb idea because we’re simple animals who like to screw a wide variety of partners. Grrrrrrr.
This woman’s a mediocre writer and plum stupid, to boot. I bet the lover skedaddled once he got wind of her impending divorce. 😉
- Daphne | 07/03/2009 @ 16:01I think I’m going to be sick.
I’m especially disgusted by this little gem, “Given my staggering working mother’s to-do list, I cannot take on yet another arduous home- and self-improvement project, that of rekindling our romance.” Yeah, lady, it’s just another to-do on that list of Saturday jobs. Ranks right up there with repainting the kitchen and running the kids to soccer practice, doesn’t it?
THIS, my friends, is why the institution is coming apart at the seams. Not because humans weren’t designed for it, or because it is outmoded, or any of that other claptrap.
It’s because people aren’t putting their spouses at the top of the priority list.
Yeah, I sure as hell am judging you, lady. More to the point, I’m judging your actions and your choices, and I’m calling them evil. You’re a bad wife and a bad mother, too.
- cylarz | 07/05/2009 @ 02:24