The morning news shows, the late afternoon talk shows, the bookstores, print magazines, webzines and blogs present an endless supply of relationship advice, takes on marriage and all the ingredients one needs to possess that dull eyed look of mildly drugged happiness. Conservative columnist Ross Douthat at the NYT didn’t think that was enough. Ross is in a real pickle. It just so happens two of his own have recently bit the adultery dust. One (John Ensign) may have also committed extortion, while Governor Sanford might have used tax payer money to enhance his wandering ways. What is a clever boy to do. The Way We Love Now or Ross on the Virtues of Rich White Conservative Booty Calls
These irrepressible passions make a fascinating counterpoint to the complaint, advanced this month by two of the nation’s finest essayists, that modern relationships have been drained of danger and purged of eros.
What are the odds. Two scandals. Both involving risks, financial and political, and a major piece of media turf occupied by a fellow con, suddenly extols the virtues of of untamed passions and intrigue. Many cons are wannabe clever boys, but are not because they would never takes the trouble to climb up the back alley drain pipe, run over the roof and shimmy down the air ventilation shaft to deflect blame.
Both writers depict a country where pragmatic anxieties — think of the children! think of the mortgage! — are forever trumping romance and dulling the libido. Theirs is a nation of nesters who have clipped their own wings.
Poor Ensign and Sanford were merely real men, stout hearted men filled with testosterone like the men of yore who had the brass balls to say to hell with the kids I’m getting my freak on. There will be no straight forward columns about personal matters being personal or perhaps something about the hypocrisy of the self-righteousness crowd from Ross.
As Nehring observes, our hyper-educated, socially-liberal elite is considerably more romantically conservative than its blasé attitude toward pornography or premarital sex would lead you to expect.
That’s con-speak for its the poor trash that really be do’in the horizontal shuffle so do not be fooled by the constant parade of Gucci loafers. Wealthy elite sex is clean and rarely results in rug rats so just keep walk’n. Our romance and sexually correct socio-economist shows us the verbal version of a snake eating its tail in one paragraph.
Better, perhaps, if this dynamic were reversed. Our meritocrats could stand to leaven their careerism with a little more romantic excess. [ ]… But most Americans, particularly those of modest means, would benefit from greater caution and stability in their romantic entanglements.
If only poor folk would get their birth rate down and rich meritocrats? would betray their families more, the metaphysical tides of happiness would ripple in soft waves across America’s furrowed brow.
update: Ross it have a sentence appended in parenthesis about all that intrigue not being for parents and older folks. Still since so much of his argument was either contradictory or just silly, that sentence seemed like a flute in a trombone band.
3) Coal Companies Receive A Lot of Welfare, and Martin County, Kentucky, Home of the War on Poverty, Lost 67 Percent of Its Coal Mining Jobs Due to Stripped Down Mountaintop Removal Operations: For a chart on the relationship between mountaintop removal, lost jobs and poverty in Martin County, see: http://www.kftc.org/our-work/canary-project/campaigns/mtr/county-profiles
4) Like Coalfield Parents, President Obama Wouldn’t Want to Send His Daughters to the Marsh Fork Elementary School Either: Unlike the Sidwell Friends School in Washington, DC, children at Marsh Fork school in Sundial, West Virginia, must play in toxic coal dust from a nearby coal silo, as 2.8 billion gallons of coal sludge held back by a precarious earthen dam stare down daily at the playground, as mountaintop removal explosions take place nearby.
Ross would probably tell us we’re raising nation of weenies. If you don’t learn to suck up that toxic coal dust as a kid you’re grow up with two healthy lungs and have a lot of unprotected sex.
John Lydon by Elizabeth Peyton 1994. Pencil on notebook paper. Not always on display, but in the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art. Some might know Lyndon better as Johnny Rotten. Peyton has done quite few stretches of musicians.