Peony Moss: February 2007 Archives

Snow. Sleet. Ice. Sniffles and sore throats and a solid week off school. Toilets overflowing and soaking the basement floor (with clean water, thank God.) Stomach flu. A sixth birthday for Hambet. Work (a temp agency found me a copacetic assignment -- part time work during school hours only.) And a resolution to give up aimless Web reading for Lent. So probably not much even less blogging from me.

via Kathy Shaidle, this reflection by "Laura":

There are traditional laws, traditional customs, traditional manners. But, it’s the traditions of the heart that hound me. Perhaps I hear too much the naggings of the dead and the complaints of the not-yet-born. The dead, they do always whisper in my ear. Really, sometimes they talk about the pettiest of things. “Why don’t you have the wreath on the door? Where are the candles for the table? You think we were shallow and stupid?!” But, most of all they whine on and on about the traditions of the heart and the evaporation of love, between men and women and between parents and children. Oh, and the not-yet-born—Hah! They clamor in their cradles as if I were their mother! The most grating accusations of neglect so that I want to cover up my ears and say, “It’s not fair. I am not your mother. I want to live my own life!”

The not-yet-born are simply future generations, so intimately connected with me, you, everyone. It’s not possible to be a traditionalist if you think of yourself as part of a community that includes only the living. I think of myself as part of community—a living, breathing community—that extends far back in time and far into the distant future. But, I use the term “think of myself” loosely because it’s not simply an intellectual thing. I have no choice in the matter and have not arrived here simply by logic. I feel the complaints of the not-yet-born. Perhaps it’s simply maternal projection, but I sympathize, I know they will judge us, I know they will be angry that they must work so hard to resurrect what we let fall. Besides, I love them. After all, they are the children of my children and the children of these. They are the descendents of my sisters and brother, my cousins and friends. They are mine. Only someone with a shriveled heart wouldn’t care.

I know they will judge us.

And really, isn't being mindful of generations present and future the ultimate in being inclusive?

Dear Mr Luse has a post up in which he fails to share with us his feelings on finding his toothpaste tube emptied of toothpaste. He does allude to a thread somewhere on the Interweb discussing the relative intelligence of men and women, and then provides his own commentary, including a salacious confession to asking three -- three! -- women to be his Valentine.

Go read the post, it's good. Meanwhile, I am happy to report that two men asked me to be their Valentine and I said yes to both of them. So there. (Neither of them blog.) And on the topic of "are men smarter than women" I just have a few things to say:

1. Even if it's true that twice as many men as women have 120 +IQ's, that still means that the big differences are going to be on the skinny ends of the bell curve, where the extremes show up. Most men and most women are going to fall in the vast middle of the curve.

2. For most of us, lofty talk about averages and populations and medians and percentiles isn't going to be of much use in our daily lives. We'll never meet The Average Man and The Average Woman because they don't exist. We're going to meet individuals: Adam, Eve, Sally, Joe. And it doesn't matter where The Average Woman and The Average Man fall on the bell curves; what will matter is what Adam and Eve and Sally and Joe can do. They'll each possess their own unique constellations of intelligence and virtue. More men than women might be super-geniuses, but that doesn't mean Joe is a super-genius -- or that Sally is not.

3. Speaking of virtue, this would be a good place to note that without traits such as perseverance and self-control, the only thing a high I.Q. for good for is membership in Mensa.

3.5 Plus, as we know from comics and the movies, having a very high IQ puts one at risk for becoming a megalomaniac sociopathic super-villain.

4. Given how theories about average intelligence of populations have been misused in the past to justify mistreating individuals... well, maybe there was something to the idea of an Index.

I am happy to report that my Valentine is a really smart guy. After dinner on Wednesday, he announced, "Skip the dishes. Let's go watch 'Persuasion.' " (Because he knows how I love this movie.)

One of the best parts of Persuasion is a friendly debate between two characters on the differences between women and men:

..."I do not think I ever opened a book in my life which had not something to say upon woman's inconstancy. Songs and proverbs, all talk of woman's fickleness. But perhaps, you will say, these were all written by men."

"Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to examples in books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove anything."

The whole passage is in the extended entry.

That letter a couple of posts down? I really sent it. And this evening, I got a reply:

Dear Peony,

President Bush's disastrous plan to escalate the war is no longer just a plan: it's a reality.

While the Senate was tied up in knots....

No response to what I actually wrote the guy about. Good PR work there, pal.

Hang on here -- now, which party was the one flogging this non-binding resolution that had the Senate "tied up in knots"?....

The Second Inaugural Address:

Fondly do we hope--fervently do we pray--that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bond-man's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash, shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord, are true and righteous altogether"....

The entire speech is in the Extended Entry.

re: the Marcotte and McEwan issue

I am a voter who is astonished at your choice to hire and retain Ms Marcotte and Ms McEwan.

In your statement, you wrote,
they have both assured me that it was never their intention to malign anyone's faith....

Then what precisely was their intention? Phrases such as "Christofascist wingnut" and "Protestant anti-choice assholes", characterizing a church's entire body of doctrine as "misogyny" and ridiculing the Third Person of the Triune God as "hot, wet, and sticky"....

If, with these words, they did not intend to malign Catholic and Protestant Christianity, these women are pretty inept communicators. Your putting them in charge of official campaign communications leads me to have serious concerns about the judgment of a President Edwards.

If they did intend to malign "someone's" faith, which seems more probable... well, of course they are entitled to say what they like. And I am entitled to draw my own conclusion, which is that the Edwards campaign doesn't think hate speech targeting Christians is a big deal.

I am a voter, and I am Catholic. I wanted to give the Democratic Party a fair shake in '08 and see if there was room in the party for people like me.

I've just gotten my answer. Maybe we can try again in '12.

...the kind of people who like to sand and patch and prime and tape and put down dropcloths and lovingly wash the brushes, and those who think painting is nothing more than opening the paint can and going to it.

If you are a type 2 painter and are married to a type 1, may I offer a piece of advice? Just indulge her. Don't surprise her by starting the project while she's out doing another errand and had counted on having the entire weekend to do laundry and scrapbooking. Let her plan the date, and buy the primer, and do the taping and the dropcloth and the priming, particularly if you are painting the foyer Derby Red. You'll save time -- no scrubbing Derby Red off the trim and carpet, no listening to her sighs and complaints and shrieks of frustration when she discovers that her second coat isn't adhering properly. You'll save money -- no buying of dinners and chocolate and other peace offerings and new paintbrushes because the old ones have turned into hardened paddles of latex.

Just a tip.