The Hobby Lobby decision makes me want to move to Canada but I don’t know French. What should I do? -TZ
When things go wrong in America (and this latest debacle is real wrong) a lot of people want to jump ship. Remember this however: Most residents of Canada live 150 miles from the U.S. border because most of Canada is fucking cold as fuck (unless you’re in Vancouver which is basically Seattle without Sub Pop records) and btw, you don’t need to speak French necessarily. You do however need to be able to talk shit about America, all the time, forever more. Canada isn’t a state, it’s a country with a capital and provinces. If you can name all the provinces without wikipedia, then sure, move up there, but in terms of escaping shitty politics I have two words: Rob Ford.
In terms of Hobby Lobby. Take a look at the subliminal name. This is a corporation whose hobby it is to lobby. For them, killing birth control coverage is like putting milk on a vegan’s cereal. The fact that we’re using the acronym SCOTUS instead of just saying Supreme Court also is a major red flag. Delete a letter and add a couple and you have SCROTUM. It correlates with the fact that a bunch of men ruled in favor of women being second class citizens.
So what do you expect when the Hobby Lobbyists go and have a convo with SCROTUM? The dissent from Ginsberg was aces and spot on, but again when you hear the name Ginsberg you think HOWL, the 60s and gay drug-induced sex. So most of her SCROTUM peers are like, Dude, she’s high. Don’t pay attention. Therefore, America.
Here’s a problem: being a sensitive artist living in a capitalist society that rewards business-minded people and deceit. -RR
I could get all keep-on-keepin’-on about this and say you need to stay true to your art despite the forces working against you at every turn. I’m not going to fill your head with more lies however. You’re fucked. Totally and completely fucked.
Here’s the good news. If you actually embrace your fucked-ness then you build up the armor that the capitalist whores (see above) have at the ready to your advantage. The thing about deceit is that it’s shrouded in a false sense of honesty. “That’s just market forces at work…” “Everyone has the same opportunities available to them…” “Snorting coke off a hooker’s tits redefined my family priorities…”
You need to start lying to yourself in the same way, big time. The thing is if you are completely cognizant that you’re lying to yourself, then you’re basically becoming a secret agent, where you’re literally fucking things up from the inside. You’ll notice that your sensitive nature transforms into complete apathy, your friends will seem whiny and indecisive, and the desire towards a moderate view of overall politics becomes vastly more appealing than ever.
Once you’ve completed this shift you can then return to your art practice, which will probably take the form of pastels completely focused on the shape of the heart, which actually isn’t the shape of a real heart but a shape that middle age women with no aesthetic values really relate to. A shape that reminds them of the brief time that their now robotic husbands were like at the beginning of courtship: full of possibility, integrity and curious mystery. See? Full circle.
It seems whenever things get hard at home my husband goes out to work on our truck. He loves the truck so much it’s almost like they are married too. Thing is, he can’t seem to get it running and the pile of trash to haul to the dump is getting pretty foul. Should I encourage him to take it into the shop? If not, what should I do?
Seems like you married one of those guys. Unfortunately those guys fall under many traditional masculine stereotypes including taking Lynyrd Skynyrd seriously, drooling at their friend’s new socket wrench set and thinking that most problems can be solved by eating a steak.
This is going to take a lot of time and effort on your part and so I’m going to ask you up front: Is it worth it? He’s going to love his truck more than any human being until his demise. It’s just how country-loving music fans operate. Those songs aren’t written in jest. Those guys really are attached to their vehicles in a manner that led the DSM to categorize it a fetish disorder back in 1976. It was removed the following year due to lobbying from the NRA. Little know fact.
There’s no way he’s going to take the truck to the shop. This is too close to home. The only thing you can do is this: Hire a professional videographer to make a music video of you being all sexy with his truck to his favorite song about trucks, similar to that Jessica Simpson video, get all wet and try not to fake smile. Be coy. Don’t pretend to be Jessica Simpson. She’s weird. I’m just using her as an example. I’m not saying this is a good thing in any way, but those guys love this shit.
Then at some point throw a bag of trash in the back at the climax of the song. This will influence his psychology to get the truck fixed no matter the circumstances, get the trash to the dump where it belongs and most likely get you laid in the process. Win win.