I was street harassed the other day.
Or, maybe not. I didn’t think it was harassment. Maybe it was, though. I probably would have viewed it that way had had I been a SJW or a radical feminist or maybe just a tiny, little woman.
I was walking down the street and someone in a car slowed down, yelled “Pork chops and penis!” and drove off.
Yeah, that was it. I didn’t quite see who was inside. Looked like a guy I knew. Might have been a friend of mine. I couldn’t quite tell. It doesn’t really matter. And do you know what I did?
I laughed. I laughed and kept walking. Then I went to Subway and ate a fucking sandwich.
I did not feel threatened. I did not feel unsafe. I thought it was amusing and my instinct was completely the opposite of letting it affect me. What I did instead was to keep doing exactly what I had been doing in the first place (though I did spend a few seconds imagining how I might have reacted had I been a Jewish lesbian feminist who hasn’t gotten laid in 3 years…I didn’t succeed but I did get yet another laugh out of it).
So now, in solidarity with my harassed feminist brethren, I say this:
Grow the fuck up.
Next up, we have a documentary:
I recommend watching the whole thing. I really do. Do you want to know why?
Because it gives an insight into what a society that believes in itself looks like. That is a society that truly, truly believes that it is capable of everything, and is spurred on by that belief to such a degree that it actually fulfills it.
Look at this painting:
There’s not an artist alive today who would unironically depict the modern United States in such a fashion. Not even the most delusional neoconservative would think to do it. We don’t believe in ourselves as a society anymore. We have nowhere near the faith in this country as the Victorians had in 19th Century Britain. When was the last time we had anywhere near it? I wish I knew. At no point after 9/11 did we ever feel that way.
Perhaps it was the ’80s. Perhaps it was the ’60s. The race to the first moon landing shows a certain degree of national self-confidence.
When did the US give up on itself?
I don’t know.
How would we know if it stopped giving up on itself?
It could take one of many different forms. Come to think of it, it would be like sexuality: expressed in everything that you do. Here is one example. It’s not that hard to find others once you know what to look for: 1) a belief in building and/or celebrating the future, instead of fearing it, worrying about it, or clinging to the past and/or 2) seeking out hard and difficult challenges, not wasting strength and ability on tearing itself apart.
A living being seeks above else to discharge it’s strength, but a dying being seeks to attenuate the degree to which it is losing it.
You will sometimes hear from feminist types that breasts are not sexual objects and we shouldn’t objectify them or sexualize them (you’ll note that they are never all that clear as to what they actually mean by those words). Putting aside the rampant female projection in how sexuality should work AND treating this as dialectic and not the rhetoric that it actually is, does this make any sense?
No. Breasts are secondary sex characteristics. For the purpose of analogy, it makes a good deal of sense to treat them as co-equivalent to male muscles. Neither exist for the purpose of enabling sexual arousal, but as indicators of fertility and virility, they help to facilitate attraction and increase the chances of engaging in the sexual act.
Taking this one step further, there is a very important conclusion to draw from this. The teleology of a particular thing is not the only reason to do or to be of a certain thing. Understanding the teleology of a thing is necessary for understanding it, but on its own, a teleological view is not a comprehensive enough paradigm by which to fully grasp all that needs to be understood to fully understand a particular thing.
Bear in mind that great law (one of Legionnaire’s Laws?) of human behavior: the unintended consequences of an action are often of greater consequences than the intended ones. This is true of human actions, and it is also true of teleology.
Well it definitely made me curious, in that I figured I had to watch this movie. So I did.
Can I recommend it? I want to. I really want to. I really, really do. But I can’t, at least not unconditionally.
The first half of the film is Tom Cruise and Bryan Brown drinking, wise-cracking, and being bros. That part is great. After that it devolves into inane, namby-pamby, pansy love drama. Don’t watch the second half.
Great moments from the first half:
“The waitresses hate me.”
“You wait until you’ve given them crabs. Then they’ll hate you”
That’s just great.
“Beer is for breakfast around here. Drink or be gone.”
THAT brings me back to my frat boy days.
I don’t care how liberated this world becomes – a man will always be judged by the amount of alcohol he can consume – and a woman will be impressed, whether she likes it or not.
There was a time when I would have believed the first half of this, but not the latter. Now, I know it for a fact that the entirety of this statement is true.
A man will always be judged, full stop. A person will always be judged, full stop. You will always be judged for everything you do for every second you are doing it. Once you realize that, life gets exponentially more fun.