Now that Mexico is on the path to become a new Venezuela, we have a lot of real fun coming our way.
I’m in favor of people immigrating who are perfectly happy with their children rejecting the parents’ culture (or cultivating it privately). I’m in favor of adults who can accept the idea that their children born in the new country will be more like the children in the new country and will be free to reject most or all of the parent’s world view and culture (including religion).
God, that’s the whole point for me. I want my kid to have a typical American childhood. I want her to be like the happy American kids and not like the deeply messed up kids where I come from. I don’t want her to carry the burden of 70 years of totalitarianism and a whole lot of bad shit before and after.
I have no idea why some nations manage to create a life that produces happy children while others can’t. But I want to be in the place that does, and this is the only one of them that would have me. Besides Canada, of course, but I don’t like Canada as much.
I don’t want to introduce Klara to the books and cartoons I enjoyed when I was a kid. N and I recently conducted a comparison between our most famous kids’ authors and Dr Seuss, and Dr Seuss won hands down.
If I were so into my culture and thought it was great, why would I ever leave?
Whoever dominates culturally and owns the winning narrative always detests free speech. The weaker side that is trying to rebel against the hegemony will champion free speech because that’s the only hope to fight off the hegemonic narrative.
This is why the mantle of free speech champions has been passed from left to right.
You are welcome, NYTimes, for solving the great mystery that’s been puzzling you so much.
At the bookstore, there is a whole stand of kids’ books about inspiring female figures. Rows upon rows of books.
Boys get three inspiring males: Harvey Milk, John McCain, and Elon Musk. One would think that history has produced almost no notable males at all and Elon Musk is the culmination of inspiring malehood.
Whoever informed me of the existence of Little Golden Books, thank you so much, you wonderful human being. They help a lot.
Yesterday’s protests started with folks declaring, “I don’t believe in borders, I don’t believe in walls!” Which is as productive as starting a pro-choice rally with the slogan of “I hate babies. Let’s kill the whiny little bastards!”
The problem in politics is that many people are still fighting ancient battles that have lost all relevance a long time ago. It’s like that old joke about an 80-year-old guerrilla fighter who was never told that WWII ended, so he’s still blowing up trains to stop the enemy.
Take the obsession with Citizens United. One after another candidate beats a heavily outspending opponent with a roster of rich donors. Because it’s all about social media these days. The world has changed, time to move on. Yet people are still obsessed with the case.
Or take the recent hoopla over the flyers about abortion providers in anti-abortion clinics. Who do these folks think is looking for abortions? Ninety-year-old grandmas? Or women of a fertile age who never lift their eyes from their devices to read printed notices on walls? In the age of Google, crowds of people are fretting over wall notices. And then we wonder why so many people don’t even vote.