The Pity Party by John Wos
And a while it's been since last I posted, gentle reader. I've been up to my lightly penciled eyebrows doing accounting things, and writing nada. Still, thoughts have fluttered through the dark caverns in my head on their little bat wings. To remind myself of their fleeting presence, I've been collecting pictures that seemed reflective of my fancies. This glum little number was the best of the barrel after I Googled self-pity and clicked on Images.
The self-pity on my mind was that of the Republican party's hard right wingers. I've been wondering why it's such a favorite emotion in those quarters next, of course, to that crowd-pleaser, vein-popping rage. I'm thinking about this, because I got to see it in full flower on the Rachel Maddow show. One of her announced guests was David Frum, Bush's ex-speech-writer who coined the unfortunate axis of evil phrase, which started the dominoes toppling. He came on the monitor in a big fat sulk, the kind that always made my father chortle, Careful. Don't trip on your lower lip.
After Rachel's first question, which was on the order of, The McCain campaign, WTF with all the racist screaming? David said Rachel had no room to talk about irresponsible speech, and let loose a pissy stream of whine about Rachel's meanness and sarcasm. And Rachel did as she does, listened alertly like a doberman, ears cocked, and then asked why he thought her questions compared with people screaming Kill him! Treason! Off with his head! at the La Palin/McCain goon-fests. David pouted, then mumbled that Rachel had her own show, which was a public forum of sorts, and that, within her very limited arena, she had a duty to be more careful in her speech. (Cue snuffles, quiet sobs)
Watching him quiver and sniffle, I thought, Damn, I've already had you as a boyfriend several times over. Not David Frum, natch, but guys with lots of similarities, and most specifically that brand of drenching self-pity. During that dating period, when I was as close to a Separatist Feminist as I'd ever be, I remember some of my boyfriends screaming about dykey women having the fucking nerve to protest anything when they were sitting on a fortune to begin with. When I'd lash back at this cruel idiocy, they'd melt into a puddle of salty tears, and choke, See? Feminism makes you mean.
The first couple of times it happened, I gaped in amazement and said, You don't really think this cheesy bullshit is going to work, do you? And, yes, they all thought that cheesy bullshit would. Thing is, I was raised to believe this kind of reaction was despicable, and so, in turn, I only became more hard-hearted. This, I think today, was the right and proper response. Watching the Democrats on CNN, these past eight years, I realized they were treating Republican self-pity as though it was a genuine felt emotion rather than a bogus contender. Don't! I'd yell at them from my side of the screen. But they'd soldier on, every self-defeating one of them, making nice and caving in on warrantless surveillance, no SCHIPS for kids, more money for the Iraq mess.
I had a beloved aunt who referred to such gluey manifestations of self-pity as very inexpensive behavior. And now, thinking of her, that's where I'll leave things tonight.
It's good to be back.
The self-pity on my mind was that of the Republican party's hard right wingers. I've been wondering why it's such a favorite emotion in those quarters next, of course, to that crowd-pleaser, vein-popping rage. I'm thinking about this, because I got to see it in full flower on the Rachel Maddow show. One of her announced guests was David Frum, Bush's ex-speech-writer who coined the unfortunate axis of evil phrase, which started the dominoes toppling. He came on the monitor in a big fat sulk, the kind that always made my father chortle, Careful. Don't trip on your lower lip.
After Rachel's first question, which was on the order of, The McCain campaign, WTF with all the racist screaming? David said Rachel had no room to talk about irresponsible speech, and let loose a pissy stream of whine about Rachel's meanness and sarcasm. And Rachel did as she does, listened alertly like a doberman, ears cocked, and then asked why he thought her questions compared with people screaming Kill him! Treason! Off with his head! at the La Palin/McCain goon-fests. David pouted, then mumbled that Rachel had her own show, which was a public forum of sorts, and that, within her very limited arena, she had a duty to be more careful in her speech. (Cue snuffles, quiet sobs)
Watching him quiver and sniffle, I thought, Damn, I've already had you as a boyfriend several times over. Not David Frum, natch, but guys with lots of similarities, and most specifically that brand of drenching self-pity. During that dating period, when I was as close to a Separatist Feminist as I'd ever be, I remember some of my boyfriends screaming about dykey women having the fucking nerve to protest anything when they were sitting on a fortune to begin with. When I'd lash back at this cruel idiocy, they'd melt into a puddle of salty tears, and choke, See? Feminism makes you mean.
The first couple of times it happened, I gaped in amazement and said, You don't really think this cheesy bullshit is going to work, do you? And, yes, they all thought that cheesy bullshit would. Thing is, I was raised to believe this kind of reaction was despicable, and so, in turn, I only became more hard-hearted. This, I think today, was the right and proper response. Watching the Democrats on CNN, these past eight years, I realized they were treating Republican self-pity as though it was a genuine felt emotion rather than a bogus contender. Don't! I'd yell at them from my side of the screen. But they'd soldier on, every self-defeating one of them, making nice and caving in on warrantless surveillance, no SCHIPS for kids, more money for the Iraq mess.
I had a beloved aunt who referred to such gluey manifestations of self-pity as very inexpensive behavior. And now, thinking of her, that's where I'll leave things tonight.
It's good to be back.
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