Tag Archives: general crankiness

Are All the Good Ones Taken?

etc., humor, social policy, , ,

Recently, I saw a post in a group called Fuck the Patriarchy that asked the poignant, if unoriginal, question: Are all the good men taken? (Actually, it was phrased “Are all the good men coupled?,” a verb I associate more with train cars than with men. But I get the point and digress.)

(There seems to be a fair amount of relationship questions and advice in the group, rather than a strict focus on dismantling systems of oppression. But I digress some more.)

I find it encouraging that the assumption is that there are some men who are not essential parts of the patriarchy, and that they’re considered viable options for coupling with (or whatever).

The real question, I think, though, is not “Are there enough good men to go around?” It’s “Are there enough good enough men to be in a couple with?” (Or a thruple, if that’s your preference. Some kind of committed relationship, anyway. But I digress yet again.)

I say that because a “good man” may be too high a standard. It comes too close to being a perfect man, and that’s an impossible burden. Every man is a Jerk Boy once in a while.

What’s that (I hear you ask)? Well, a Jerk Boy is one who strays from the ideal in some measure. Not one who strays from the relationship, if the comments section is any indication, though.

One definition of a gentleman is one who, when he pees in the sink, at least removes the dishes first. Admittedly, that’s a pretty low standard. I would call him a Jerk Boy and tell him that as long as he’s there, he can wash the damn dishes.

Every woman has had Jerk Boys in her life. That’s a given. Whether that’s a deal breaker largely depends on how Jerky and how Boyish the guy really is.

Take my husband. (Well, no, don’t. I do lend him out for certain occasions, though, such as when one of his women friends (and he does have them) wants to see a movie or play that I don’t. Just have him home by midnight. But I digress some more.) Even Dan is a Jerk Boy at times. Just not the pee in the sink variety.

So, what are the standards for a “good man?” One who openly tries to destroy the patriarchy, or one who supports me when I do? One who actively educates other men about how to behave respectfully with women or one who behaves respectfully himself and thereby leads by example? I’ll take the second one in each of those comparisons. He’s good enough for me.

Not that I think that the first, or truly good, ones don’t exist. I do suspect, however, that, as of yet, there aren’t enough of them to go around. And fighting over them isn’t what you’d call good feminist behavior. (There’s enough debate in the group over what good feminist behavior is, especially in regard to cheating partners and what sisterhood requires one to do about it when the opportunity for a single woman to have a fling with a married man arises. And no, I will not debate that at this time. But I digress, just not that far. That’s a topic for Fuck the Patriarchy to take up, and they have.)

So, I am coupled with Dan for over 40 years, if not always perfectly blissful ones. He’s good enough for me. And only occasionally a Jerk Boy.

Words I’m Not Used To (Yet)

education, etc., humor, language, social policy, writing,

Language evolves over time. I know this and have (mostly) gotten used to it. In fact, I like it. I enjoy neologisms. I’m very fond of “yeet,” for example. (Although I’ve never understood the conjugation of yeet. I think it’s probably yeet/yeeted/yeeted. If I ran the zoo, it would be yeet/yote/yoten. But I digress.) I don’t know if yeet will last. I kind of doubt it, but while it’s still around, I’m going to savor it. (Dan yeets things all the time, so I’ll have plenty of chances to use it. But I digress again.)

Every year the various dictionaries add words that they deem to have made it into the language. This year, Merriam-Webster spotlighted 1,400 new words, some of which I knew (Rickroll, looksmaxxing) and some of which I didn’t (cuffing season, parasocial). There were also new uses of old words, such as “compute” as a noun.

Some new words or usages bother me. I’m still not used to “overwhelm” when it’s used as a noun rather than a verb. It just sounds wrong, even though I don’t know of any other word that fills that particular lexical gap.

I also love changes in language that serve a purpose in society. The best example I can think of is the demise of sex-linked words for occupations. When this change first got going, the new words and phrases sounded awkward, or there didn’t seem to be solutions for firmly entrenched forms of speech.

Some were derided at first, like “Men at Work” signs (though not the band), which sensibly became “Work Zone. Some have been abbreviated, such as “chair” instead of “chairman.” (Although I did once see someone try out “chairhead,” which, as far as I can tell, disappeared after the one use. Good. But I digress some more.)

The use of “male” or “female” (or “lady”) to preface occupations has likewise faded out. “Stewardess” briefly begat “steward,” but quickly both were given up for “flight attendant.” And publications are increasingly less likely to use “woman physicist” or “lady astronaut,” unless they mean the first example, which is also becoming less noteworthy.

(The only occupation for which this is not true is “nurse.” Most people feel compelled to say “male nurse” unless there’s an obvious man’s name attached to it (Nurse Jim Denker, for example). Otherwise, a reminder is due. “I heard the nurse was just here. Did she give you a shot?” “No, he didn’t.” And many of us still expect a nurse practitioner to be a woman and a physician’s assistant to be a man. But I digress even more.)

But the new usage that most often trips me up is actor/actress. Oh, I know what it means when someone refers to “actor Gwyneth Paltrow,” but I find myself stumbling over using the word to apply to both sexes. I just can’t seem to remember to say “beloved actor Carrie Fisher” or “Meryl Streep is a fine actor” or “the film features actors Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.” I know this is a lack of linguistic subtlety and a failure in feminism on my part, but I just haven’t gotten used to saying it. I’ll keep practicing.

The New York Times Magazine published an article this week about the furor over new words entering dictionaries. It proposed that the usual dictionaries aren’t the right place for all these neologisms. Instead, they asked, “Couldn’t some new thing join them, some Oxford Social Reference or Collins Meme Almanac, for the sake of those poor future historians?” These, they suggested, would be “slang dictionaries,” a kind of L.S.P. dictionaries (“language for specific purposes”).

That might satisfy the lexicographers, but not the people who don’t know what lexicographers are. I, for one, am tired of looking up words in The Urban Dictionary and would like somewhere official to go for info. I like the idea of having a place to find new words and their definitions. Maybe we also need a dictionary listing recent words that have fallen out of use. These would have to be online editions of the dictionaries, of course, publishing and printing being the long, expensive productions that they are. (But I digress linguistically, wishing I had become a lexicographer. Chat, that would have been a flex.)

My Journey Through the Vast Wasteland

books, cooking, etc., food, humor, television, , , ,

I used to read a lot of books. I still read more than the average or even above-average American (though that’s not saying much). But increasingly, I’ve been journeying through what F.C.C. chair Newton N. Minow in 1961 called the “vast wasteland” of television. It’s only gotten vaster and waste-ier.

I’m not going to hold up my TV viewing habits as lofty and noble. What I watch is easily scoffed at, and you may do so if you choose. If you do so quietly, that is. I don’t need to hear how I’m disgracing my two English degrees. Think of it as my “Dare to Be Shallow” phase.

Reruns

These shows are what I call my “comfort shows.” Sometimes I actually watch them. More often, I just have them on in the background while I write. I think of them as my “emotional support noise.” (My mother used to do this too when she lived alone after my father’s death. She put on baseball games, but didn’t watch them. I’m not sure what she did after baseball season was over. Game shows, I think. But I digress.)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I’ve already seen every episode dozens of times, so I don’t have to actually watch them, just glance over when a particularly interesting bit comes on, like the musical episode. (Oddly, my husband got me hooked on Buffy. I don’t know why he was hooked on it. But I digress some more.)

Forged in Fire. I like competition shows where the contestants actually make or do something. On Forged in Fire, they make knives and swords from scratch (or scrap). I can even put up with Project Runway. But cooking competitions are my go-tos: Chopped, 24 in 24, Top Chef, and such. (I never make any of the recipes—except once when I made Ina Garten’s Triple Ginger Cookies, as I’m a ginger freak. But I digress yet again).

Medical, legal, or medico-legal shows. House. Bones. Forensic Files. Mystery Diagnosis, Monsters Inside Me, and Dr. Pimple Popper (another show hubby got me hooked on).

Science fiction series. Star Trek, of course. Firefly, even though there are few episodes. And Babylon 5, which is eerily relevant even now. (See the “Nightwatch” episodes if you don’t believe me. But I digress even more.)

New-to-Me Shows

Recently, I was burned out on the shows I was watching and needed something new, so I asked a dear friend for recommendations. (We used to watch Simon & Simon, Magnum, P.I., and MacGyver together, back in the day. Simon & Simon was particularly good, as we each lusted after a different Simon. But I digress still more.)

My friend recommended Will Trent, High Potential, The Rookie, Matlock, Elsbeth, and Sheriff Country, which, alas, I had to explain to my husband as “Inara in khaki.” Unfortunately, these are all shows that, while I like them extremely well, have only one season or so. I have to wait months now for new episodes.

Dexter and NCIS are shows I’ve never seen before. NCIS, at least, has plenty of seasons, so I don’t expect to get caught up on it any time soon. (Dexter is particularly interesting, in that he kills people who kill people because killing people is wrong. But I digress yet again.)

One new-to-me show that I tried to watch for a little comic relief was How I Met Your Mother. I had to stop watching it, though. After the first season or two, it became “All About Barney,” and he’s such a misogynist-sleazebag-horndog that I can’t bring myself to watch.

(Let’s not even talk about my husband’s viewing habits. Suffice it to say that when I go to bed, I have to remind him not to watch the S&E Channel (Screaming-and-Explosions). And that’s enough digressions for one week.)

Changing Our Collective Minds (And How Difficult It Is)

education, etc., family, government, , , ,

We’ve heard a lot lately about the Constitution, particularly the 2nd, 14th and 25th Amendments, and the Bill of Rights. Most of us don’t have a clue what those amendments mean, and I’m here to help. (I’m not a Constitutional scholar, nor do I play one on TV, but I do know a few things on the topic, and I’d like to share them with you. But I digress.)

The Bill of Rights

After the Constitution was written, it became apparent that it didn’t cover everything that needed to be covered. There were disagreements over ratifying (the states agreeing to) the whole Constitution, so “amendments” were needed. (There were originally 12 amendments, but they were pared down to ten. These were considered “natural rights” that the government could not take away from the people.

(Nonetheless, the Powers That Be have been chipping away at the Bill of Rights. The right to freedom of speech and the right of free assembly have been nibbled away at by the courts. For example, shouting “fire” in a crowded theater is not a protected right. And the freedom of the press doesn’t mean that you can publish anything you want. It just means that the government can’t censor or suppress your writing before it’s published. Nor does a publishing company have to publish it. You can still privately publish or say anything you want, but no one else has to publish it or agree with it. You have not been cancelled. But I digress again, at length.)

The 2nd Amendment

The 2nd amendment is under fire as well. Most people know it as the right to own guns. However, it says that a “well-regulated militia” is necessary for the protection of the country. (Unfortunately, most people who form “militias” are not well-regulated or even regulated at all. Nowadays, it generally refers to the National Guard. But I digress.) I have opinions about non-militia citizens owning guns, primarily that they should be licensed after proof of instruction on how to use them safely. I will not argue this point at this time and in this place. So don’t push me.

The 14th Amendment

The 14th Amendment is now controversial, as well. It covers what is called “birthright citizenship.” This means that anyone born in the United States is automatically a citizen. It sounds pretty simple, but there you have it. Some politicians and citizens feel it’s no longer needed (or maybe no longer relevant.)

I avoided an ugly argument with my brother-in-law recently by stressing that it didn’t matter what the original intent of the founders was or why it should or should not still apply (though I have opinions on those questions). I argued that those considerations don’t matter, but that if you wanted to get rid of the Amendment, there’s a process you have to go through. It involves getting both houses of Congress to agree (good luck) or two-thirds of the states to agree (also good luck). The point is that this takes a lot of time, debate, and argument. My point to my brother-in-law was that, if you wanted to get rid of the 14th Amendment, there’s a process you have to go through, and it takes a lot of time and relies on a lot of people agreeing to it. You can’t just say, “I don’t like it. Make it go away.” The only Amendment that’s ever been repealed was the one to make Prohibition go away.

(Anyway, the repeal process is also true if you want to get rid of the 2nd Amendment. But I digress still more.)

The 25th Amendment

The 25th Amendment concerns getting rid of the president. It says that if the president is no longer able to fulfill his duties, there is a process to ensure succession. First, the vice-president takes the reins. If he’s not able either, the President Pro Tempore of the Senate is next. If he’s also not able, the Speaker of the House steps in. Changing that is another process that can be long and drawn-out. It doesn’t involve simply holding a new election. It’s usually used only when the president or vice-president is under anesthesia for an operation.

The Amendments to the Constitution were difficult to add and are difficult to get rid of. My point is that when the American public changes its mind, it’s purposely not easy to change our fundamental documents. (And I’m sure if I got any of this wrong, hordes of constitutional scholars and maybe my brother-in-law will descend on me. But I digress even more.)

(Yeah, I know this isn’t funny, but I warned you in the subhead that there would be rants. Now that I have this out of my system, I’ll try to be amusing next week.)

Where Are the Fat Geese?

Christianity, Christmas, etc., food, funny things, holidays, humor, music, religion, ,

A little-remembered Christmas carol starts out: “Christmas is coming/The geese are getting fat.” In “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” there are six geese the first time around, with more to come, based on their a-laying and the repetition of all the presents ad nauseam.

But you hardly ever see a goose baked and broiled sunny-side-up on people’s Christmas tables, or as part of turgooducken. Turkey and ham are the popular choices. (Me, I go for something nontraditional, such as sushi, lasagna, ratatouille, or Chinese take-out. The Chinese food, I guess, is more traditional for Jewish people, pagans, Pastafarians (who might prefer the lasagna), and others with unconventional tastes. But I digress.)

Why does no one sing the carol about the fat geese anymore? Probably because the rest of the song is about charity to the poor—”Please to put a penny in the old man’s hat./If you haven’t got a penny, a ha’penny will do./If you haven’t got a ha’penny, God bless you.” Carolers these days hardly ever accept a penny for their services, and ha’pennies went out with farthings. Carolers might get a cup of cocoa or a cookie with red and green sprinkles, but that’s about it. Maybe they need a union.

Modernizing the carol wouldn’t come easily either. “Please to put a penny in the Salvation Army Kettle” doesn’t fit the meter, and nobody carries around ha’pennies these days. (Indeed, soon, they won’t carry pennies, either, what with the mint doing away with them, and possibly the nickel, too. You’d be left with putting a quarter in the kettle and settling for a dime. But I digress again.)

But back to geese. I don’t think I’ve even seen them on the menu at a restaurant. Perhaps it’s because they’re fatty (hence “The geese are getting fat”). Maybe it’s because they’re big. No one would order a whole goose. A smaller party might order slices of goose, but that would leave the kitchen with a lot of extra goose. What to do with it? Serve goose hash the next morning? I somehow doubt that would be a big seller.

Live geese aren’t any prize, either. They’re mean. Big ones can weigh up to 20 pounds. Just imagine an easily enraged, 20-pound bird with a loud cry, a hard knob on the top of its head, a large beak, and much given to pecking, chasing you around the yard. (It’s my theory that the fad of concrete dress-up geese on the front step (which I hope has passed) was thought up by someone from an ad agency who had been hired to improve geese’s image. But I digress some more.)

(For that matter, swans are also not candidates for the Beast Congeniality crown. Yes, they’re stunning—at a distance—and (it’s said) monogamous. But they are geese with an even better ad agency. They’re really savage. The Stratford Canada Shakespeare Festival warns visitors to avoid the killer swans that roam the grounds. (Despite the swans, the Stratford Shakespeare Festival is well worth a visit. They present theater-in-the-round and frequently stage works not written by The Bard of Avon. The 2026 season includes Death of a Salesman, Waiting for Godot, and Guys and Dolls. But I digress yet again.))

Anyway, we started this ramble with geese and Christmas carols. Every year, I ask friends what their favorite and least favorite Christmas songs are in both religious and secular categories. My favorite religious one is “Mary, Did You Know?” Least favorite: “The Little Drummer Boy.” My favorite secular song is “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” Least favorite: “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” (Though there are some interesting parodies like “The Twelve Days of Star Wars” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hHSEUAXDucw, if you want a change of pace. But I digress musically.)

No one has ever mentioned the one with the geese.

What’s So Funny?

blogs, etc., funny things, humor, writing

Recently, I fell in with a comedy site that has weekly online meetings where members are encouraged to submit their humor for feedback. My interactions with them have proved perplexing. I submitted for analysis a piece I was working on. The response was tepid at best, so I revised and submitted it again. Here’s the first draft:

I Use Satellites to Hunt for Tupperware in the Woods

That’s what a contestant on Jeopardy told Alex Trebek when asked about his hobbies and interests between rounds. Alex was taken aback and, for once, clueless.

I have done the same. (The satellite/Tupperware thing, not flummoxing Alex Trebek. I wish. But I digress.)

What both I and the Jeopardy contestant had in common is “geocaching.”

It goes like this. One person hides a piece of Tupperware or other waterproof container (an ammo case is also popular), usually in a natural environment but sometimes within a city or suburb. The container holds a piece of paper, a small pencil, and assorted trinkets, such as a postcard or a small toy. This is called the geocache.

***

Here’s a revision of the first section, rewritten according to what they suggested, or so I supposed.

I Use Satellites to Hunt for Tupperware in the Woods

That’s what a contestant on Jeopardy told Alex Trebek when asked about his hobbies and interests between rounds. Alex should have replied, “So you’re some kind of kitchenware spy,” but missed the opportunity.

I have aspired to kitchenware spying myself.

It’s called “geocaching” to those in on the process. A piece of Tupperware or other waterproof container (an ammo case is popular) is hidden, usually in a natural setting. The secrets within are a piece of paper, a small pencil, and assorted objects of unknown value. This is known in the trade as the geocache or “drop site.”

***

That second version was close to the one that you saw when I posted it. I think it was improved somewhat, but at the next meeting, they suggested even more changes.

I had trouble implementing their suggestions. The first one was “Lose the digressions,” which I was reluctant to do because of the name of my blog and a reasonably consistent shtick when I’m writing what I intend to be humorous pieces. They act like footnotes or record the meanderings of my mind while I write. But I ditched them for the second version, just to see. I also bumped up the spy references, using words like “agent,” “secret identity,” “tradecraft,” “the drop,” and “Ilya Kuryakin.”

On seeing the second version, they suggested that instead of describing how geocaching works, I should use “I” more: “I bait the drop,” “I decipher the clues,” etc. I agree that, in general, unless you’re writing an academic paper, “I” is preferable to “you.” So that was probably good advice.

They also told me I needed more hyperbole and more jokes. I already had some jokes in there: one clue being “Look under the big W” (a reference to It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World) and my secret identity as “DjangOH” (in honor of my cat Django, who was named after Django Reinhardt, the jazz musician). They thought that one was pretty good, but assumed I was referring to the movie Django Unchained, which has nothing to do with cats or jazz musicians. They were apparently too young to get the other references as well. I’m beginning to doubt they got the one about Ilya Kuryakin.

Anyway, based on their comments and critiques of other people’s work, I gathered that what they were looking for was zingers, punchlines, and an over-the-top tone, like a stand-up comedian’s.

But that’s not the kind of writing I prefer. I grew up on observational, story-telling humorists like Erma Bombeck, James Thurber, and Jean Kerr. And if I could write one-tenth as well as David Sedaris or The Bloggess, I would count myself a happy writer. Hyperbole, yes, but no punchlines.

So I ask you these questions:

• Should I keep doing what I’ve been doing, with digressions?

• Should I lose the digressions and rename my blog?

• Do you prefer a stand-up comedy-style writing or an observational one (but not like Steven Wright)?

• Do you want to see listicles? Shorter pieces of writing?

• Would you prefer no serious posts like the one last week about my father? Should I have a separate blog for them? (It would be occasional, as I don’t think I could write three blog posts a week.)

I sincerely want your opinions. Please feel free to sound off in the comments.

Apparently obligatory joke:

Ist old lady: My, it’s windy today.

2nd old lady: No, it’s Thursday.

3rd old lady: So am I. Let’s all go get a cup of tea.

Hungry Children: A One-Act Play

education, family, government, health, social policy, Uncategorized, , , , , ,

Sharing food with the needy

[Setting: The Halls of Power]

Guy in Suit: The media keep saying that there are hungry children in America.

Other Guy in Suit: Let them eat dinner.

Bleeding-Heart: That’s the problem. They don’t have dinner to eat. Or even breakfast sometimes.

GIS: We already give them lunch at school. That’s five days a week.

B-H: Unless they’re absent or on vacation or a snow day. Or if they can’t pay for it.

OGIS: Then it’s the parents’ problem.

GIS: Why do schoolchildren have so many vacations, anyway? We don’t get all those vacations.

B-H: Uh, yes you do.

GIS: Oh. Well, never mind that now. We were talking about tax cuts…uh, job creators…uh, feeding children. That was it.

OGIS: Suppose the media are right?

GIS: The media are never right unless we tell them what to say.

OGIS: Well, just suppose. For a minute. OK? The problem I see is that it looks good for us to feed poor, hungry, starving American children. By the way, are they as pitiful-looking as poor, starving foreign children?

GIS: Probably not. You were saying?

OGIS: If there are hungry children, and we do need to feed them, how are we supposed to do that without feeding the lousy, lazy, good-for-nothing moochers at the same time?

GIS: Ah, yes, the parents. If we give the parents anything, it should be one bag of rice and one bag of beans. And — hey — they could feed their kids that too.

B-H: But children need good nutrition — fruits and vegetables and vitamins and minerals, and enough to keep them full and healthy.

OGIS: Hey, we have plenty of minerals left over after fracking. Won’t those do?

B-H: No.

GIS: But if we give kids all that fancy food, what’s to keep the parents from eating it?

OGIS: Or selling it for booze or cigarettes or drugs?

GIS: Think about that! The drug dealers would be getting all the good nutrition. Then they could run faster from the police.

OGIS: We can’t have that, now can we?

B-H: But…the hungry children? Remember? Eating at most one meal a day, five days a week, when school is in session?

GIS: That’s plenty. I heard American children are obese, anyway. They could stand to lose a little weight.

[Curtain]

This post, which I wrote a number of years ago, became relevant again. I wish it would stop being relevant.

Foot Plus Mouth Equals Disaster!

Christianity, education, etc., health, humor, , , ,

In the comic strip “Peanuts,” Linus says that one should never discuss “politics, religion, or the Great Pumpkin.” That’s good advice, as far as it goes, but the list of things you shouldn’t discuss in public goes much further. In fact, erase that bit about “in public.” They’re dangerous to discuss among friends and family, too.

These days, politics is strictly off the table. You never know who has a concealed carry license. And Linus was certainly right that it’s best to avoid religion. When someone says, “Bless you,” the right answer is “thank you,” even if you’re not a believer. After all, they meant the religious equivalent of “Have a nice day.” (Or “gesundheit,” maybe. By the way, “Bless your heart” should be used with caution when you’re in the South. It can be a verbal middle finger. But I digress some more.)

Another topic to avoid is any that leads to a near-death experience. My husband, Dan, has blundered that way more than a few times. For example, when we were preparing for a party, I washed my hair, blow-dried it, used a curling iron, moussed, and sprayed. As I came down the stairs, Dan asked, “Are you going to do anything with your hair?”

And stay far, far away from talk of pregnancy. Suggesting that a woman is pregnant based on her weight, her clothes, or the way she waddles can be deeply offensive, particularly if she isn’t. In fact, one expert advises that you not comment on a woman’s potential pregnancy unless you actually see a baby emerging from her vagina at that moment. Better safe than hopelessly embarrassed. (I was a victim of this faux pas when I walked into an office looking for a job, wearing a loose denim jumper and a nice blouse. Admittedly, it may not have been the best choice for filling out an application, but the receptionist didn’t have to ask how far along I was. Later, she repeated the story as an amusing anecdote, not realizing that I was in the room and was embarrassed all over again. But I continue digressing.)

Everyone knows by now not to comment on a woman’s anatomy on pain of getting fired or a punch in the mouth. Not even when you’re trying to make a joke. I once told an acquaintance that I wasn’t at a party “because I was home nursing a sick cat.” “Didn’t you get scratched about the breast?” he asked. He almost got scratched about the face.

Then there was the time a guy had two girlfriends and was invited to a wedding. I don’t think he clearly understood the concept of a plus-one. He suggested taking one lady to the ceremony and the other to the reception. He somehow survived the occasion with at least one of the relationships intact. How? I don’t know.

Speaking of weddings, one of Dan’s bigger faux pas was when he suggested that, since his family lived in Pennsylvania and mine lived in Ohio, we should have our wedding on the state line, to inconvenience both families equally. (He was serious. But I digress for the final time. I promise.)

Because you’re bound to offend or insult someone, somewhere, sometime, my best advice, no matter what you are about to blurt out, is to remember your mouth has a zipper. Use it!

Down the Rabbit Hole

books, etc., humor, literature, writing, ,

Almost five years ago, I wrote a post about how memories from my (and likely your) childhood were being repurposed for political statements and propaganda.

This time I’m writing about a classic piece of literature being rewritten for other purposes. (Largely unobjectionable ones, it’s true, but it’s the principle of the thing. But I digress.)

The work in question is Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (more often known as Alice in Wonderland). It’s one of my favorite pieces of literature and I have returned to it many times since I first read it (murfle) decades ago.

(I have a friend who despises Alice. He finds it to be nonsense (which it obviously is) and incomprehensible. This despite the fact that he has returned to it frequently to see if it makes any more sense. (He ought to like at least part of it because he’s a mathematician, like the author, Lewis Carroll. I recommended The Annotated Alice (edited by Martin Gardner), which explains the jokes, Briticisms, and outdated expressions. (It also includes “Jabberwocky” in French, German, and IIRC, Latin.) But I digress, pedantically and at length.)

The “quotations” in question are not political but psychological or philosophical. I’m not saying they’re invalid—merely that they are misquoted, misattributed, or completely made up.

One of the most common misquotes is attributed to the Cheshire Cat:

“You’re mad, bonkers, off your head. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”

What the Cheshire Cat actually really said is much more complex. Here’s the context:

“But I don’t want to go among mad people’” Alice remarked.

“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” 

“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.

“You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.” 

One quotation supposedly from the Mad Hatter is:

The secret, Alice, is to surround yourself with people who make your heart smile. It’s then, only then, that you’ll find Wonderland.

Unobjectionable if sappy, but not from the book. The same with this one:

But, said Alice, if the world has absolutely no sense, who’s stopping us from inventing one?

The most annoying fake dialogue is this one, between Alice and the White Rabbit.

“Do you love me?” Alice asked.

“No, I don’t love you!” replied the White Rabbit.

Alice frowned and clasped her hands together as she did whenever she felt hurt.

“See?” replied the White Rabbit. “Now you’re going to start asking yourself what makes you so imperfect and what did you do wrong so that I can’t love you at least a little. You know, that’s why I can’t love you. You will not always be loved Alice, there will be days when others will be tired and bored with life, will have their heads in the clouds, and will hurt you. Because people are like that, they somehow always end up hurting each other’s feelings, whether through carelessness, misunderstanding, or conflicts with themselves. If you don’t love yourself, at least a little, if you don’t create an armor of self-love and happiness around your heart, the feeble annoyances caused by others will become lethal and will destroy you. The first time I saw you I made a pact with myself: ‘I will avoid loving you until you learn to love yourself.’”

The White Rabbit was late to play croquet with the Queen of Hearts. He wouldn’t have had time to discourse on self-love.

Alice has been in the public domain since 1907, so one can misquote or invent all they want. (The Disney movie version only came out in 1951, The book was in the public domain, but the movie isn’t. I think we can expect a live-action film. I hope they lose the repellent pink-and-purple Cheshire Cat, though I doubt they will. But I digress again.)

Surely no one would do this kind of thing to The Wizard of Oz…or would they? [squints suspiciously]

The Good, the Bad, and the Others

books, etc., film, humor, literature,

The Wicked Witch used to be a villain. She tried to kill Dorothy and her companions. She enslaved flying monkeys. She wanted revenge for her sister’s accidental death.

Now she has her own musical and movie.

The elevation of villains is a thing now. Personally, I blame Star Wars. I was once visiting some friends who had a young son. He held up his Darth Vader action figure and said, “This is my friend.” (This was in the days before the proliferation of Star Wars movies culminated in Vader’s redemption at the last possible second. But I digress.)

My theory is that villains have power but few limits. It’s no wonder youngsters view them as positive influences. When Darth Vader is your friend and protector, you share in his power. You fear nothing.

Maybe this rise of the villain started with the rise of the anti-hero. Let me explain. And let me use Buffy the Vampire Slayer (one of my favorite TV classics) as my vehicle. (Actually, I’m going to do it whether you let me or not. So there. But I digress some more.)

Here’s the backstory, for those not familiar with the Buffyverse. Buffy’s first love was the vampire-with-a-soul Angel, and he was a Byronic hero, a type that became popular when Byron (duh) was writing poetry. Byronic heroes are tortured souls who waft around in black clothes and clouds of pain. They’re never cheerful. They don’t crack jokes. They suffer from existential angst. They have troubled pasts and isolate themselves from society. (Other Byronic heroes include Batman holed up in his Batcave, grieving over his dead parents. The Brontes knew their Byronic heroes, too. Mr. Rochester and Heathcliff are classics. But I digress yet again.)

In opposition to the Byronic hero, we have the anti-hero. They don’t behave according to the heroic model. They’re “bad boys” who manage to dominate the plot and achieve their goals despite being misunderstood or refusing to follow convention. Think Han Solo, Captain Jack Sparrow, or in the case of Buffy, Spike. He’s never going to be Buffy’s Great Love, but he has his uses in her world. (Deadpool and Robin Hood are two other examples who would never have a beer together but occupy similar literary spaces. I suppose Dexter would be the ultimate anti-hero. Still more digression.)

No, wait. Satan is the ultimate anti-hero. Take a look at Milton’s Paradise Lost. Lucifer has agency and is the more interesting character. At some level, the reader roots for him. They know God’s going to win. That’s a given. But Satan’s quest, while reprehensible, is also on some level noble. (I’m talking literary characters here, not theology. But I digress again. And as Jean Kerr said, in reference to the story of Adam and Eve, the snake has all the lines. But I continue digressing.)

So, what makes the bad guys more interesting guys? For one thing, they’re deeply misunderstood. They’ve often been victims of bullies or of an uncaring, unfair society. They touch the darkness, the “shadow self” that lives within each of us. We recognize ourselves in them, identify with them in ways we simply don’t with standard heroes. We’d like to identify with heroes, but we know they’re better than we are.

Standard heroes require supervillains to make them at all interesting. Without Lex Luthor, Superman just flies around foiling ordinary bank robbers. Without Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes is simply Columbo. (I could say that without elusive diagnoses and the looming specter of death, House is basically Doogie Howser, but I won’t. That would be ridiculous. There’s also misanthropy. But I digress some more.)

Personally, I respond more to anti-heroes than Byronic heroes. Pure villains don’t interest me, but neither do sanctimonious heroes like Galahad (“My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.”). But when it comes to the villains and heroes in the wrestling ring, I don’t give a fig for any of them. Besides, they change places so often that you need a scorecard to tell which is which. (Don’t assume that this means I watch “pro” wrestling. I learned about their ethical switches from the New York Times. Go figure. But I have finished digressing. For this week.)