My experience, growing up as I did around upper middle class shitlibs, Marxists, and feminists is this: nowadays they live and die for outrage. They love to be outraged, and they love to outrage others. I am the survivor of two progressive dysfunctional liberal families. After I was banished and hurled into the void for having the wrong opinions about everything - they started turning on each other. Family events with those people were an exercise in masochism. The holidays were supposed to be about family and fun but they became occasions for them to lecture, badger and bully. Some of the more obnoxious bible thumping Christians used do it too back in the day. There's not so many of those these days, though.
That, right there, is what Christmas is supposed to be.
I made the classic blunder in my family feuds. I didn't want to fight, I didn't want to offend anyone, and I went to great pains to keep my mouth shut. Christmas became something I truly started to hate. My daughter acted like a bloody monster and the inlaws encouraged it. Then they'd start going off on politics and ruin an exquisite meal. The other dinner guests were unlikeable drips and flakes. When I got home I had to be the bad guy again and discipline my daughter for all the stuff she'd done during the day when I couldn't make a scene in front of the outlaws. It only now occurs to me that my Christmases weren't working right because my family wasn't working right. I tried to hold it all in for decades but just finally blew it all up and walked away. There was nothing to stick around for, and no point to it.
The Z Man speculates that the modern family was doomed back in the 70's when the middle class adopted the 'whore/drug culture'. I grew up in the thick of that. Of course, when I became an adult I saw the folly of it all. I barely managed to evade the social consequences of that culture (most of my friends and acquaintances didn't) - and got fully ensnared by the fallout created by those times - the new 'pervert/social justice culture'. I rejected it out of hand, knowing full well where it would go. My family embraced it - and our paths had to part. Z says all this shite is being pressed upon us by our elites and rulers. I cry BS; we are doing this to ourselves. Or at least, some of us are - I refuse to take part in it myself.
If you are dreading the holidays this year, my advice on this is to stop procrastinating. If there are confrontations coming, Christmas is not the time to do it. Do it NOW. Call up that person (or persons), ask them straight out what there intentions are for the occasion. Are they going to turn the family reunion into a pissing match? Or are they going to make an effort at being civil? Iron it out before you go. If you don't like their response, or doubt their sincerity - give the occasion a miss. Go to the range, take the dogs out somewhere special, take some time for a quick tip of the hat to your Maker.
For this year I have bought a few stocking stuffers for the wife, I've got some long range dog patrols scheduled, I have some rude jokes to share with retarded friends over coffee, and a pile of range time scheduled. The wife and I may have to take in a movie or start on some New Year's chores too. It may sound sad but it beats putting up with ropey mouths, head games and shit tests from queers, feminists, Marxists and other intellectual wreckage I suppose.
If you can't have a loving and kind Christmas - have a blessed and peaceful one instead.
Have a great Sunday and thanks for stopping by.
Sounds like the story of my life. I play along cause I have to but it is a chore at best. It just brings up unhappy memories and uncomfortable feelings. Just about the only good thing about it is the food, and that's cause I'm the one doing the cooking. Otherwise the lazy slobs would be happy to eat ham Italians. We need to start a commune for us types, like the hippies did back in the 60s only ideologically 180 degrees opposite.ReplyDelete
These days, M - I could get by with a chair by the furnace out in the garage or the hangar, a sammich and maybe a dram and some rude jokes. All too often that's too much to ask our fella men these days though.Delete
The wood-stove in the barn and a six-pack works for me. I take it from your statement you have a hangar, so you must have a plane, ergo you is a pilot too. I'm curious now, if you don't mind my impetuousness, I hafta ask, whacha fly?Delete
I was spared the Liberal viewpoints and theories because I worked for a living from the time I could do so (no allowance), and because the men in my family were conservative, erudite, and fairly intelligent. So the idea of 'free' anything was lost on me - someone, somewhere, has to pay for it.ReplyDelete
When a history teacher in the 8th grade objected to the 2A, I was the first one to speak up, although many of the other students followed my example. We have the right to bear arms, and should I need to protect myself I'm able to do so. The Japs didn't invade because they knew everyone was armed.
The same history teacher objected to the use of the Atomic bomb against the Japs. My parents and grandparents reassured me that the Japs were never going to surrender, which is the truth, so we dropped the bomb. When the first one didn't achieve the desired effect, we dropped another one and the war ended.
My father was against gun registration and explained why it was a bad idea - WWII, you see. When my paternal grandfather had trouble with prowlers, he loaded up his old Ithaca pump shotgun. "I've got five shots," he said, "and if I can't hit something with five shots, they deserve all they can get."
We were always careful to holler and get an answer when we came to see Grandpaw in the evening, as his hearing wasn't the best.
My uncle Ned and Aunt Ann are Liberal, Ann more so than Ned. One memorable evening they told us how they heard something on the roof, and neither one had the nerve to get up and see what it was (very likely a raccoon). Dad and Grandpaw just laughed, and when Ann rather heatedly asked Dad what he would do, he told her, "I'd have got my pistol and a flashlight and gone outside to see what it was." Which wasn't true, as dad would know that it was a raccoon and therefore harmless. He did, however, get up one night (armed) and chased off two large dogs he found prowling around. He and Mom said they were as big as wolves, and given that he generally knew what he was talking about, they may well have been wolves. This would have been the summer of 1959.
We used to argue politics with Uncle Ned, but those arguments generally ended when Grandpaw spoke up. The old man was politically savvy and had a lot of contacts in D.C.
Last time we discussed the illegal immigration problems, Auntie Ann declared, "Don't be silly. You can't deport 11 million people."
"Maybe not," I said, "but we can deport ten million, and that's a good beginning."
The same lady started arguing religion with two pastors we'd invited to a birthday dinner, stating that she'd studied up on the Islamic religion. "You know, we have more in common with the Muslims than you think. They've got the same things that we have."
"Except Jesus," Pastor Clay said quietly. I wanted to stand up and cheer. Instead, I effusively congratulated her later on.
It's almost martini time. Here's a hoist of the glass and a tip of the old fedora to you, Glen Filthie. You and yours can throw your feet under my dining room table anytime.
And a toast to you too, WL! What did you get me for Christmas this year? I'm hoping it's a vintage heavy Lewis gun?Delete
The way the commies are ginning themselves up these days, even those dreadful German guns of yours may come in mighty handy! HAR HAR HAR!!! Merry Christmas you guys - and a happy new year!!!
Perhaps some gifts to the family liberals of Christmas tree lights made from fired shotgun shells? Easy to make after punching out the primers and it's better to give than receive!ReplyDelete
Have a great Christmas!
Some things you lose aren't big losses. If your family life isn't "normal" then pining for what will never be is a fool's errand. Walking away from what drags you down is the first step in healing.ReplyDelete