Who am I to judge?
The other night, after the girls went to bed, I was too tired to read or blog or sleep. Any of those endeavors would have required a modicum of mental effort. So I did what I usually do in that situation. I channel-surfed. My habit is to linger for no more than a couple of minutes on any particular channel (unless I hit the jackpot with a biography or "intimate portrait" of, say, Montgomery Clift or even Diane Lane -- I'm not picky about "intimate portraits")and then to move on to the next channel, thus sampling, a la Max von Sydow in Hannah and Her Sisters, the detritus of mass cult. My laziness was rewarded, as I happened upon a rerun of an Oprah show whose theme appeared to be "Swingers in Suburbia." In one segment, a woman -- seen only in shadow and described as a "certified minister" and "Brownie leader" -- touted the swinging (wife/husband-swapping) "lifestyle" and declared that she was reluctant to reveal her identity "because people tend to be really judgmental."
[She later decided to come "out of the shadows," because the battle between the desire for one's fifteen minutes and the desire to maintain one's dignity is like the contest between Darth Vader and that poor schmuck who derided Lord Vader and his "sorcerer's ways."
(Cue Vader breathing)
"I find your lack of faith in Oprah disturbing."
(Cue sound of windpipe being crushed)
And goodbye dignity.]
That dull thud you hear is the sound of me casting the first stone.
Look, Mrs. Preacher Brownie Swinger Lady, we all have our personal peccadilloes (I prefer to call them sins, but I figure that's too "judgmental" for you), and Lord knows I'm as big a sinner as any of us, but here's the thing -- I refuse to trumpet my sins, not because I'm afraid that people will be judgmental, but because I'm REALLY FREAKIN' ASHAMED OF THEM. I know I'm old-fashioned and I don't want to get too "John the Baptist" on you, but whatever happened to shame? Sure, we overdid it sometimes (I'm Catholic, I should know), but nevertheless I think shame served a useful purpose, if for no other reason than that it prevented people from parading their slavish self-indulgences and harmful excesses under the banner of non-conformism and healthy self-expression.
Yeah, yeah, who am I to judge, right? But by now we ought to understand that that's just a hackneyed phrase that gets trotted out every time some thoughtless, irresponsible twit who takes a brave stand in favor of "swinging" isn't met with universal approval and a standing ovation from Oprah's studio audience. So let me give you some friendly, judgmental advice, Mrs. Preacher Brownie Swinger Lady: do your children and the rest of us a favor and go back to the shadows where you belong.
Think I'm being cold, harsh, and judgmental? Well, who are you to judge?
[She later decided to come "out of the shadows," because the battle between the desire for one's fifteen minutes and the desire to maintain one's dignity is like the contest between Darth Vader and that poor schmuck who derided Lord Vader and his "sorcerer's ways."
"I find your lack of faith in Oprah disturbing."
That dull thud you hear is the sound of me casting the first stone.
Look, Mrs. Preacher Brownie Swinger Lady, we all have our personal peccadilloes (I prefer to call them sins, but I figure that's too "judgmental" for you), and Lord knows I'm as big a sinner as any of us, but here's the thing -- I refuse to trumpet my sins, not because I'm afraid that people will be judgmental, but because I'm REALLY FREAKIN' ASHAMED OF THEM. I know I'm old-fashioned and I don't want to get too "John the Baptist" on you, but whatever happened to shame? Sure, we overdid it sometimes (I'm Catholic, I should know), but nevertheless I think shame served a useful purpose, if for no other reason than that it prevented people from parading their slavish self-indulgences and harmful excesses under the banner of non-conformism and healthy self-expression.
Yeah, yeah, who am I to judge, right? But by now we ought to understand that that's just a hackneyed phrase that gets trotted out every time some thoughtless, irresponsible twit who takes a brave stand in favor of "swinging" isn't met with universal approval and a standing ovation from Oprah's studio audience. So let me give you some friendly, judgmental advice, Mrs. Preacher Brownie Swinger Lady: do your children and the rest of us a favor and go back to the shadows where you belong.
Think I'm being cold, harsh, and judgmental? Well, who are you to judge?
posted by Kate Marie | 11:52 AM | Permalink
|
3 comments
3 Comments:
Nice effort there, Marie of Kate.
The difference between men and women is our channel surfing. You say you don't linger more than a minute or two. We men don't linger for more than a nanosecond or two.
Actually, Swinger Brownie Lady's sins only appeared quite so bad because, if you were paying attention, she revealed them in alphabetical order....Just kidding...
And so it begins, eh, Madman? You will squeeze every last drop of mileage out of the alphabetical order snafu . . . you sadistic American Beauty-loving fiend. Well, let me tell you something, my friend . . . Kevin Spacey is a fake-haired freak!
Post a Comment
<< Home