Tagged: women

One Teeny, Tiny Flaw

I remember catching my mom in a bookstore aisle, kind of tucked away once. The book she was reading was self-help for “control freaks”. Understand, then, that she was the control freak in our family, and my sense of the encounter was that she was embarrassed that her son had seen that maybe she didn’t want to be.

I barely need to repeat the following, but for the unfaithful readers, please accept without question that my wife isn’t in love with yours truly anymore.

Books actually play a pivotal role in the drama, albeit in an unpredictable way. One of her main complaints to me, about my way of life, is that all my book reading does not lead to more money.

For my part, one of my main “asks” of her is that she stop reading the latest Christian bestselling “health and wealth” sermon transcripts masquerading as books. And truthfully, I don’t care that she reads them, but I would like her to read, at least some of the time, real books—not “The Secret” part 73. I mean even pulp fiction or Louis L’Amour or whatever is flying off the grocery store shelves these days.

This last time home, I saw an unfamiliar book stacked upon her bible called something like, “How to Live With A Manipulative Husband”.

Do you see the problem, folks? It’s easy to miss, so I understand if you don’t.

As for me, I am seriously considering putting out a best seller for us husbands. What do you say?

The title will be, “How to Smarten Up Your Wife AND Get Her to Stop Buying Crap.” Or maybe, “How to Make Your Wife Understand That She Doesn’t Need Makeup and Wigs Just Because All Other Women Wear Them.”

This might need to be a series, actually.

Another could be, “How to Live with a Woman Who, as It Turns Out, Is an Immature Child Who Lacks the Ability to Reason.”

Then there could be one on, “When Your Wife Married You, But Listens to Every Other Human Being Who Has Ever Uttered Speech Sounds Instead.”

The capstone, and I mean Fifty Shades of Grey success, will, of course, be, “How to Actually Get Your Wife to Stop Complaining and Be Happy.”

Men of the blogosphere, I’ve got you pegged as less than 10% of my readership. But what say you? Would you pay to unlock these secrets?

“White Sinners”, A Review of The Bride!, by Maggie Gyllenhaal

Motionless pictures can be art, too. The Bride!, like Sinners, is art for the reason motionless pictures can be art. The trouble, the thing that has everyone ate up, is Ms. Gyllenhaal’s picture is in motion. Hmm.

Lucky for her, the door for this kind of post-post-modern, detached, boundary-less art was opened by Mr. Coogan (and I am sure others). Just the same, I have always heard about some people who are able to be captivated by a single painting for hours. That is the closest this wind-riding-knuckle-dragger-with-a-blog can use in describing how this movie works.

Is The Bride! a reimagining? I have no idea. The interwebs confirm that there is no book by Shelley. Apparently there is an early movie and some other movies and books of the titular concept (Bride of Frankenstein). But I am pretty sure this film is just an original continuation story—and it should have been marketed and reviewed as such.

The most striking part of the movie was the leading lady’s effortless range. I mean she goes from repulsively demonic to irresistibly infatuating in the blink of an eye.

The gore is realistic and nauseating—another instance of “I hope my kids never find out I watched this”.

There are scenes of obvious first wave feminism (…like I know what that distinction means to experts. What I mean by first wave is that some women don’t want to be stay at home moms). But unlike some reviewers, I didn’t see it as proselytizing or advancing an agenda. It’s just a movie, folks. At ease!

On the whole, in addition to Sinners, I place it alongside Joker 2. I would like to give it a second chance now that I know what’s coming. But I am not sure there will prove to be enough time.

The Contest is Not Certain

When I moved to Minnesota I immediately noticed the Somalis. If you’re unaware, they are in many towns up there, not just the Twin Cities—small and large.

The most obvious thought I had—being a geographically and climate-varieties informed American—was, “Why the eff are they staying in the cold?”

I would see them, men especially, wearing one thin layer of buffalo plaid pj pants, holding their parka tightly with ungloved hands when the wind was blowing around below zero chills.

“What is wrong with this moron?” I would constantly think.

Don’t misunderstand me. This had nothing to do with that part of the body between the brain and the wind. I thought the same thing about any poorly dressed soul. It’s just that typical Minnesotans, if they know anything, know how to put on a coat. So the Somalis stood out.

For the life of me, I couldn’t think of any industry or job that these Somalis worked in that wasn’t in every other state in the Union.

The God’s honest truth is that I just shook my head and reckoned, “Well, I have heard of Chinatown(s). So I guess a feature of American life is that some country’s immigrants just arrive and stay close.” I had never experienced the desire to stay with “my people” beyond the concept that moving out of America has never been a consideration. America is mine. So I will move around it as I please or where the wind blows me.

Just the same, I still thought they were dumb for staying in the cold. Like even my Midwestern-grown self had no idea how different the weather really is in latitudes north of Nebraska. But I also wasn’t from latitudes north of Nebraska. These people, the underdressed Somalis, were from the desert. They had actual experience in a different, surely more pleasant climate. Why didn’t they drive south? The St. Louis airport has the same work available that MSP does. Why not just move down to the Midwest and start the life there? Or, hell, why not just keep going and end up in Dellis. Or Tampa?

I thought and I thought and I thought. I just couldn’t figure it out. Why did they stay?

One Beautiful Truth: Kamikazes Are Dumbfounding

Letting my eyes linger on the cover of latest Alien vs. Captain America (#3), I likewise allowed my thoughts freedom to roam. My conclusion? While the images are too “dark” for my early elementary age kids’ still-clear eyes, and while I am not in love with my kids being aware that their Bible-heavy dad reads dark comics, I am certain that I want my kids to be surrounded with “good guys defeating bad guys”. The other option, ELE or Everybody Love Everybody, is too frightening.

Back in 2021ish, I was going on two years without seeing my, then, pre-teen daughter. A failed divorce was the reason. She and I had barely been chatting over Facetime and we sent a few texts, here and there. When she was about 9 years old, I took her to Metallica, which I mention to establish that music had been an available minor touch point.

So she’s around 12 and I asked her what she listened to.

“Billie Eilish songs like ‘Listen Before I Go’.”

I immediately did what needed to be done to see her again. I wouldn’t say I was worried about her committing suicide, as if she was some super-prone-to-suggestion sheep, but I was shaken, just the same.

5 years later and this Billie Eilish is still making the news.

The reason?

“No one is illegal on stolen land.”

Please recall, communication requires sender, message, receiver. And communication is verbal, tonal, and body language. In other words, please remember that the meaning of what she said is not any ol’ thang that we want it to mean.

So we know what words she sent and how they sounded and looked, but what did she mean?

Well, the word “illegal” in 2026, spoken at the Grammy’s by an award winner means, “those BIPOC people over there who, somehow normie, white surpremists want out of America because they are not white.”

And “stolen land” in 2026, spoken at the Grammy’s by an award winner means, “land that is anywhere but where I live and stand.”

So if we re-word what she said in order to represent her claim fairly, one way it might go is,

“No BIPOC people need to leave America.”

With me?

Another way to say the same thing, Billie Eilish said,

“Those brown people over there, they can stay over there.”

(This is the point where you stop reading if you disagree. This post is not about persuading you. It is about giving like-minded readers winning vocabulary and perspective with which to discuss the issues they find themselves wanting additional and creative approaches.)

To recap: I first learned of Billie Eilish because of my pre-teen daughter who was listening to Eilish’s suicide songs. Years later, Billie Eilish says something stupid and anti-American* and many people are wishing her ill as a result. As beloved Mark Twain said, “But I repeat myself.”

My point: You, faithful reader, must take people at their word. Billie is self-diagnosed as depressed and suicidal. She literally cannot care less. If all the bad things, eviction, unending lawsuits etc. were to befall her, she would not care. If America burns and she loses everything—even her precious ability to create art—she would not care.

This is dumbfounding.

And that acknowledgement is beautiful.

It is beautiful that you and I are dumbfounded by a suicidal person and perspective. If we were not dumbfounded, if we agreed with Billie et al, we would, ourselves, be suicidal and ugly.

Same point put inversely: It is not shocking that kamikazes like Billie Eilish and friends are dumbfounding.

****

*Anti-American because Americans don’t care what ‘color’ someone is.

Time to Revisit Immigrants and Bananas

The main line is sung in a memorable scene in A River Runs Through It, but it took me decades to actually google it.

With absolutely nothing derogatory towards liars, Somalis, or loose band-aids in mind, and instead offered in the spirit of legal immigration, here ya go. You’re welcome.

Yes! We have no bananas!

There’s a fruit store on our street
It’s run by a Greek
And he keeps good things to eat
But you should hear him speak!
When you ask him anything, he never answers “no”
He just “yes”es you to death, and as he takes your dough
He tells you
“Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
We’ve string beans, and onions
Cabbageses, and scallions
And all sorts of fruit and say
We have an old fashioned to-mah-to
A Long Island po-tah-to
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today.”

Business got so good for him that he wrote home today
“Send me Pete and Nick and Jim; I need help right away.”
When he got them in the store, there was fun, you bet
Someone asked for “sparrow grass” and then the whole quartet
All answered
“Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
Just try those coconuts
Those walnuts and doughnuts
There ain’t many nuts like they
We’ll sell you two kinds of red herring
Dark brown, and ball-bearing
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today.”

Yes, we are very sorry to inform you
That we are entirely out of the fruit in question
The afore-mentioned vegetable
Bearing the cognomen “Banana”
We might induce you to accept a substitute less desirable
But that is not the policy at this internationally famous green
Grocery
I should say not. No no no no no no no
But may we suggest that you sample our five o’clock tea
Which we feel certain will tempt your pallet?
However we regret that after a diligent search
Of the premises
By our entire staff
We can positively affirm without fear of contradiction
That our raspberries are delicious; really delicious
Very delicious
But we have no bananas today

On the Whole “Effin’ B’” Comment

I would be stunned if my dad has ever uttered that phrase—stunned. Is this because he has never been around “effin b’s”? Or is this because he doesn’t get rattled?

I don’t recall ever saying that phrase, certainly not earnestly. I prefer the “c-word” if I am grump about the fairer sex AKA “ex-wives who steal from me”.

I doubt many of you have ever walked away from a female and audibly declared, “Fuckin’ Bitch.”

But I say that learning that our LEO kills the woman and then utters, “Fuckin’ Bitch” changes the tenor of the scene.

New question: does it change it to “more complete” or “less complete”?

From early high school I grew up in gym locker rooms and loved the honesty I witnessed. For whatever reason, I never quite joined the cursing crowd. And I didn’t really harbor hate towards anyone or any group. But the colorful stories were enchanting.

Nowadays, I spend tons of time around beloved “First Responders”. I don’t exactly consider myself one—pilots like me, to me, are a class above. But these people see things. And what they see is far more “locker room” than “civilization”.

And time is of the essence. So inappropriate jokes still bubble up from time to time—though, unfortunately, professionalism rues the day these days.

Back to the killer LEO. He kills a woman and walks away declaring, “Fuckin’ Bitch.”

Out of the two options I have laid out, the phrase seems to change the tenor to “more complete” in the sense of “more accurate” by my thinking.

These women are out there, folks. My suggestion is try not to be one.

The Natural Response to Seeing Clearly: Thankfulness

Sight has aways been important in my life. For whatever reason, from the youngest age, whenever I took a vision test and had 20/20, people told me I could be a pilot.

These days, as a pilot who often flys with night vision goggles, I can’t help but wonder how different life would be if the ancients had NVGs available as they searched the sky.

Of course, the fact that they didn’t is because of their own ridiculous beliefs about motion and rest and circles and spheres.

I remember a childhood friend who had recently got a better prescription telling us how different the world looked. She said something like, “It’s like the trees now have individual leaves.”

How did she react? Obviously she was thankful and happy about her new glasses.

Why, then, is this not the case when we use telescopes and microscopes to see more than before?

Why would seeing more somehow make us angry?

Why would seeing more somehow make us give up beliefs, like Christianity? It’s not like Christianity said, “There are three hundred stars, and the smallest unit of material is a grain of sand.”

If we can see more, I think the appropriate response should always be the same—and limited. We should be happy and thankful.

It says more about your heart, or more broadly “you”, than it does about the “data” (what is now seen) when you react otherwise.

On Somalis

The best thing, if you ask me, about what’s happening in Minnesota regarding the Somalis is, wait for it, the Somalis have literally no idea what is happening!

They don’t know what Minnesota is. They don’t know what America is. They wouldn’t care if they woke up back in Somalia. They, by every measure, are utterly ignorant people who also are illiterate. Their only path in life is following the herd. Can they even commit fraud if they don’t know how to commit fraud?

It’s great to actually ponder these facts at the deepest level and significance.

What is man?