I realize everyone so far has responded to the guys, but I can I just respond to your OKCupid profile instead?
I too have thought about the Cars movie quite a bit, and there seems to be no true child-friendly explanation possible for how the world developed. Then again, could any society really say that?
The trouble I have is that even if you accept the universe on its own terms, it's pretty horrifying. This is a true and inescapable caste system that completely eliminates the opportunity for choice. Race cars truly are "born" ("made" if you prefer) and not developed. You cannot choose your profession or your corresponding class within the society. There is absolutely no realistic possibility for upward mobility.
So, seriously, what kind of world are we glamorizing and preparing our kids for here?
I agree that taking beetnemesis to task was necessary on this thread and the "Whoa, what happened to the Hairpin?" response strikes me as alarmingly similar to "Simmer down, ladies!" For that matter, I think there are certainly people that could be forced to seriously reconsider their actions when they are framed in the appropriate way rather than the smokescreen they have fashioned to appease their own conscience -- and such things are often most effective when put bluntly.
But: I think we missed a more interesting discussion by lashing out. As a teacher, I grow weary of the cyberbullying obsession because, well, yes, it's harder to avoid the cyberbullies, but it's all just bullying. However, the conversation so often turns to blaming the format of the Internet as if bullies are somehow afraid of showing their faces and signing their names to their cruelty in the schoolyard. It happens in person as well. It happens right in front of an adult authority figure -- right in the middle of the class when I'm not skillful enough to head it off at the pass.
The Internet is a cruel and dark place not because of the option for anonymity. At some point, we decided that part of what you do on the Internet is be cruel and shitty. You don't expect someone to blame you for Internet cruelty the way they would if you pulled out print-outs of the nude photos on the bus.
I am relieved and even joyful that small groups like the Hairpinners are trying to change this by responding to Internet behavior just like "real world" behavior (because it is real behavior, after all). Perhaps we shouldn't be surprised, of course, if that change brings backlash and whining.
The Internet was supposed to be a place where you could be gross without consequences, right? That was the thesis underlying your joke? Well, beetnemisis, those places shouldn't exist.
Not in a movie, but that's exactly what apparently happened to my grandmother at her wedding. The ex-boyfriend apparently preceded the attempted spoiler by having an epic odyssey across the United States with at least one catastrophic event in Colorado only to arrive and be told, "I called to say I'm marrying Tony, not come and stop my wedding."
I think I might need to write this up...
Smart and incredibly affecting. Thank you.
I am much less coherent than I would like to be, because this article is so timed as to coincide almost perfectly with my father's birthday. Seven and a half years ago, he died of terminal brain cancer, and I only found out two years ago that my mother knew he was terminal from the start. He did radiation, chemo, and two separate experimental trials, and my parents always gave my siblings and me the impression that he had a fighting chance.
My mother told me that after the first surgery (of two) to remove the brain tumor, when it was tested for malignancy, they declared my father Stage Four. The nurse told her that most people in this position lived around a year -- which is damned close to exactly how long he lived from first diagnosis (one year and four days). And then the nurse told her that it probably wouldn't be good for my father to know this part.
I was young and more vulnerable than I understood at the time so I don't know if I would really want her to have told me. Maybe it would have been worse. Maybe it wouldn't have been so hard when the end came. Maybe it would have been harder for everyone in the end if we had known. Maybe it would have even been harder on my dad himself.
But I find myself furious that my mother felt she had to carry this knowledge entirely alone. Our conversation didn't rule out that she eventually told my dad or a close friend, but she certainly never told her nearly-grown children, and my father took almost nine months to despair that the treatments would work and discontinue them.
The very first doctor told my father to find a beach somewhere, but that was before all the information came in.
I'm willing to concede that everyone was trying their best and doing what they thought was right. Following my father's under-informed wishes.
But I can't help but be horrified that they might have kept information from him when he made the decision of whether or not he would suffer for months. Or that anyone would encourage my mother to carry that burden alone.
Thank you for writing about your experience.
Another potential problem with the stealth maneuver (which I admit I indulge in) is the hilarious delayed reaction. I reconnected with some friends I had lost touch with and dropped it in, then two weeks later, it came up in conversation naturally (I forget the reason) and they were like, "Um, yeah, are we allowed to talk about that? Because...we didn't know what to do with that when you first dropped it in there. Were you gay back when we knew you before and we somehow missed it?"
So they kind of called me on the "What? It's not a big deal!" angle.
On Ask Santa
I think I'm actually tearing up a bit. Man, Christmas really gets to me. In a good way.
I also love all the ways they try to personalize airports. My all-time winner is the Rochester Airport out of upstate New York, although I've only been once for a friend's wedding. However, because I spotted a minor celebrity on whom I had (have) a crush, I and the rest of my traveling party have seen the ENTIRE THING. Some bits twice. On the way to finding him (sitting right by our gate, of course), we saw a military return with full brass-band fanfare, a statue equivalent of a dancing music box with all the different cultures considered worthy by Rochester, New York, and a book store full of all leather bound books which I can't believe is still in business.
I had the earliest flight of my group, and it was ironic that I was the one who wanted to stay.
I have to jump down to say that this is EXACTLY how I feel about airports! I thought I was alone! Yay! Now back to reading tips.
So there IS a place for the sestina!