Language is something I keenly watch, and I enjoy wordsmiths who can use language playfully. There are people who write majestically using few words, and I admire them beyond compare. At the same time, there are writers who are atrocious, either because of their circumlocution or their inability to speak evenly and with a good flow.
Still, in ordinary speech, it's difficult to find people who are gifted enough to lift the level of language at the drop of a hat. Writers can always edit their words, or have people who help them edit their prose. Speakers, especially when they speak extemporaneously, aren't always possessed of articulate elegance. When they are, it's pure music. But when they aren't, it can become hackneyed and hard to listen.
At the conversational level, we all -- myself included -- fall into certain staples that we either favor or use as common defaults. Karen likes to tease me that there are certain phrases that I use so often as to gain admission into the Redundancy School of Redundancy. She's right; I do. And some of the ones I use may be off-putting to other people, because there are certain phrases or usages that others use that drive me nuts. I'm wrong on these, I realize, but still...I cringe whenever I hear these words or phrases used in the contexts in which they're used.
I married my best friend: Yes, Karen is my best friend. But to describe what I did when I married her as having married my best friend doesn't even begin to describe the magnitude of what I did. I married the best person I'll ever know, the love of my life, the woman who makes me go weak in the knees and whose voice and touch I crave above all others. I realize that when the adjective best is used, it necessarily separates that person from the rest of one's friends. Still, there are other nouns that I'd use -- lover, for example -- that rarely get used. It's as if we're trying to equate friendship with love, and although there may be elements of each in both, I think love (and lover) is superior to friendship (and friend). But what do I know?
Fellowship: This one is fingernails on a blackboard to me. When used in the religious context, it drives me nuts. It shouldn't, I know, but the only proper usage of fellowship for me involves hobbits, golden rings and authors with three initials. Again, I'm wrong, but I can't stand this one.
Daddy: Being a carpetbagging Northerner, this objection may be regional. I have no problem with children using this for their fathers. Heck, I did it...for awhile. My objection to the usage of this word is when adults -- thirty-year-olds, forty-year-olds and older -- refer to their fathers as daddy. Karen, who has deep roots south of the Mason-Dixon line, has argued with me that it's a normal usage in Dixie, and I'll stipulate to that. I might even be persuaded that women can still use this to refer to their fathers well into their dotage. But men? Seriously? Men who themselves are fathers? I don't know. I can't imagine using the term at that age. Then again, my relationship with my own father was distant at best, so what do I know?
Journey: It's de rigueur to describe romantic relationships as a journey. Perhaps the first five hundred times the word was used this way it was evocative. Now it's lame and lazy. Besides -- where is this relationship going? A journey usually as an end point in mind. Does anyone know where a relationship is headed when it begins?
Chemistry: This is another overworked word used in relationships. And journey is too narrow, chemistry doesn't adequately describe a relationship if for no other reason that it's too broad. What kind of chemistry? Some kind is combustible. Other kinds make things foam up. Still other kinds burn. Saying that a couple has great chemistry is fine, and at one time it was novel, but now it's like journey and it's become trite. Not to mention broadly inaccurate.
Iconic: This is one that gained traction and has since taken off into oblivion. There are certainly icons in music, sports, entertainment and other fields. But the use of this term is so watered down now that anyone who has been able to extend his fifteen minutes of fame to a full hour is now called iconic by the media. It's overused to the point of dilution now. I'm not sure it can ever retain its original meaning such that the likes of Michael Jordan won't be lumped into the same category as Demi Lovato.
Baby: Ugh. My wife is no baby. I guarantee that. She's my sweetheart, my love, my bride, my beloved, the center of my universe...but she's no baby. Women can use it, I guess, as an affectionate term for their beloved, but it sounds bad to me when a man uses it for his woman.
That's a good/great question: So someone's being interviewed and she feels it's acceptable to rate the questions being asked? It's probably a schmooze tactic that's taught by handlers to politicians and celebrities, and it could be used to buy time to formulate a question. In a casual interview, when someone is taken aback by the question and has to think about the answer for a second, saying that may actually be honest. But the way some high profile people use it (and repeatedly use it during an interview) it comes off as practiced and insincere.
Thank you for asking me/I'm glad you asked that question: This one usually comes up in interviews with politicians, athletes or celebrities who have been involved in a scandal. They say it so seem forthright. It's unctuous. The problem is that ones that use it are usually ones that have done something embarrassing or heinous and don't really want to have to answer something, so they want to sound as if they do want to be there answering questions. Again, it could simply be practiced, something that a handler told them to say to make them seem more likeable. To me it rings false.
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Monday, August 21, 2017
My Beautiful Wife Karen
My blogpost stats page informed me that this post would be my 512th post. Given that my favorite date of the year is May 12, and that a significant and eerily coincidental events have taken place on that date, I think it's only fitting that I use this blogpost for my favorite subject.
Advice given to would-be authors is to write about what one knows. Taking that advice for this blogpost, I'll write about the woman I know and, moreover, the person I like the best. My wife is the best person I'll ever know. No saint is she, and she'd be the first to admit that she's not perfect, but she's the perfect woman for me.
There are myriad adjectives that can aptly describe her: Intelligent, witty, gorgeous, creative, strong, loyal, passionate, snarky, playful, religious, musical, caring, fun, nurturing, patient, courteous, kind, caring, supportive, considerate...I could spend all day listing the wonderful attributes my wife has. I suppose any husband in love with his wife would do the same, but I'm right about mine. That I'm so fortunate in life is because my wife is all the wonderful things I describe, and then some.
We met in an...unconventional way. That's a story for another time, perhaps. But if one were to know the story of our courtship and engagement, one would realize what a resolute woman Karen is. She defied society and tradition, not to mention her family, to be with me. She put up with our dire circumstances, not to mention my shenanigans, to stay with me and eventually marry me. She put up with my family's neuroses, never fearful that the lunatic strain would manifest itself in me. Well, at least I don't think she's fearful of that happening.
With Karen I've seen more of this country in nine years than I'd seen in the previous forty-seven. I've been exposed to new traditions, old communities, different lifestyles and exciting novelties. She's a fearless liver of life who always wants to experience as much as she can.
Much like our Mother, Karen will thoughtfully remember something someone told her and present the person with what it was that person was seeking. Oftentimes, she'll focus her attention on a thing that is viewed by society at large as less than beautiful -- bonsai trees, English bulldogs, me -- and fall head-over-heels in love with it. She champions the unfortunate.
Despite this, she bristles at compliments. If I tell her "You're beautiful," her immediate rejoinder is a hearty "You're beautiful," which I decidedly am not. If I remark that I'm strong, she dismisses the judgment as being silly. Yet, if anyone knew what she went through with her auto-immune diseases, he'd be amazed that the cheerful, pleasant woman before him was up all night with sick headaches, belly issues and sundry other symptoms. The number of pills she has to take is overwhelming; that she hates to take pills only adds to the indignity.
It is trite to say that I'm a better person because of her, not because it's untrue but because anyone says that about his love. But it's true. Make no mistake: I'm hardly a changed person; I'm better than I would have been had I never met my wife. I'm calmer, more patient, less prone to act out -- although Karen would debate me on that last one. I'm more interested in doing things that I'd never done before, if for no other reason that it makes Karen happy. For one, she says that she has oodles of fun when we dance, when the fact of the matter is that as far as dancing goes, I'm barely more mobile than a statue. I think it's the risibility of my efforts that provokes the glee in her, but she'd say otherwise. No matter. That she enjoys it encourages me to try, my surgically-repaired hips notwithstanding.
She is the love of my life, the center of my being. I will love her beyond the end of time, not just forever.
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
Advice given to would-be authors is to write about what one knows. Taking that advice for this blogpost, I'll write about the woman I know and, moreover, the person I like the best. My wife is the best person I'll ever know. No saint is she, and she'd be the first to admit that she's not perfect, but she's the perfect woman for me.
There are myriad adjectives that can aptly describe her: Intelligent, witty, gorgeous, creative, strong, loyal, passionate, snarky, playful, religious, musical, caring, fun, nurturing, patient, courteous, kind, caring, supportive, considerate...I could spend all day listing the wonderful attributes my wife has. I suppose any husband in love with his wife would do the same, but I'm right about mine. That I'm so fortunate in life is because my wife is all the wonderful things I describe, and then some.
We met in an...unconventional way. That's a story for another time, perhaps. But if one were to know the story of our courtship and engagement, one would realize what a resolute woman Karen is. She defied society and tradition, not to mention her family, to be with me. She put up with our dire circumstances, not to mention my shenanigans, to stay with me and eventually marry me. She put up with my family's neuroses, never fearful that the lunatic strain would manifest itself in me. Well, at least I don't think she's fearful of that happening.
With Karen I've seen more of this country in nine years than I'd seen in the previous forty-seven. I've been exposed to new traditions, old communities, different lifestyles and exciting novelties. She's a fearless liver of life who always wants to experience as much as she can.
Much like our Mother, Karen will thoughtfully remember something someone told her and present the person with what it was that person was seeking. Oftentimes, she'll focus her attention on a thing that is viewed by society at large as less than beautiful -- bonsai trees, English bulldogs, me -- and fall head-over-heels in love with it. She champions the unfortunate.
Despite this, she bristles at compliments. If I tell her "You're beautiful," her immediate rejoinder is a hearty "You're beautiful," which I decidedly am not. If I remark that I'm strong, she dismisses the judgment as being silly. Yet, if anyone knew what she went through with her auto-immune diseases, he'd be amazed that the cheerful, pleasant woman before him was up all night with sick headaches, belly issues and sundry other symptoms. The number of pills she has to take is overwhelming; that she hates to take pills only adds to the indignity.
It is trite to say that I'm a better person because of her, not because it's untrue but because anyone says that about his love. But it's true. Make no mistake: I'm hardly a changed person; I'm better than I would have been had I never met my wife. I'm calmer, more patient, less prone to act out -- although Karen would debate me on that last one. I'm more interested in doing things that I'd never done before, if for no other reason that it makes Karen happy. For one, she says that she has oodles of fun when we dance, when the fact of the matter is that as far as dancing goes, I'm barely more mobile than a statue. I think it's the risibility of my efforts that provokes the glee in her, but she'd say otherwise. No matter. That she enjoys it encourages me to try, my surgically-repaired hips notwithstanding.
She is the love of my life, the center of my being. I will love her beyond the end of time, not just forever.
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
North Korea
I've read a fair amount about the Korean War. I wouldn't say I know as much about it as I do World War II, but I'm probably beyond novice status when it comes to knowledge about the conflict. I know less of the history of the peninsula, shamefully, so I can't claim to understand all the motivations behind the weird behavior being exhibited by Kim Jong Un these days.
Many are wringing their hands with all the missile test launches that are going on. Apparently, North Korea was assisted by Pakistan and Iran with its ballistic missiles. North Korea is happy to play the role of annoying younger brother looking to gain attention which, once it does, brings it economic relief for illusory promises to behave. In a vacuum, North Korea poses a threat, although that threat is mostly felt by people nearby, chiefly Japan. Considering what Japan's done historically to North Korea, I'd say that the threat was well-earned.
Still, it's unnerving to have a certified lunatic who kills people with whom he has a problem with rabid dogs, anti-aircraft guns and flamethrowers to have control of intercontinental ballistic missiles capable of carrying nuclear payloads. Although I'm dubious of his ability to successfully strike the continental United States, he could wreak havoc on neighboring countries, mainly South Korea and Japan. What his endgame is is anyone's guess, but it may boil down to something so simple as getting attention from world powers to elevate himself in his people's eyes.
But since I'm an attorney, and since most military men also deal with worst case scenarios, let's say that North Korea finds the wherewithal to launch successfully a nuclear ICBM at the homeland. Pick the target; it really doesn't matter. If that were to happen, the gloves come off.
North Korea is a terrible land. Its mountainous landscape lends itself to defense. If history teaches us anything, war there is a zero-sum game. With the tripwire of the DMZ, any incursion from the North would provide us ample time to rush forces there and attack the vulnerable flanks of the peninsula. The North has an intimidating military, but it's finite. Unlike the Chinese behemoth, the North doesn't possess an endless stream of personnel. Eventually, attrition would take its toll.
Sure, people are worried about the Chinese getting involved and, given their belligerence, that's a concern. But if the North were to launch an unprovoked strike against the West, and the West retaliated, I doubt the Chinese would intervene unless they felt threatened, as they did when Dugout Doug vowed to cross the Yalu.
But if the North Koreans were to successfully launch an ICBM at the homeland, I wouldn't mess around. I'd turn that country into a parking lot. Normally, I don't suggest such flagrant responses, but in this case there are plenty of benefits. First, there's no point in using ground troops. It would be a slaughterhouse. Second, we don't need another protracted war. We're stretched too thin as it is.
No, we simply nuke the place. Turn it into a parking lot. I know lots of people suggest this for the Middle East, but I'd rather use North Korea as the proving ground to show the Islamofascists what's in store for them if they continue their jihad. Besides, it'll give the Chinese pause and render North Korea uninhabitable for years. It's not like their people are living now.
It's a harsh answer, I know. And usually I'm not this bloodthirsty. But enough is enough. How long must we have our nose tweaked for no good reason before we hit back? And not just hit back; hit them so hard that they never come back. It sends a message to other enemies that if they persist in their attacks against our country, a horrible death awaits them.
It's an unpopular decision.
Tough.
War isn't based on popularity.
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
Many are wringing their hands with all the missile test launches that are going on. Apparently, North Korea was assisted by Pakistan and Iran with its ballistic missiles. North Korea is happy to play the role of annoying younger brother looking to gain attention which, once it does, brings it economic relief for illusory promises to behave. In a vacuum, North Korea poses a threat, although that threat is mostly felt by people nearby, chiefly Japan. Considering what Japan's done historically to North Korea, I'd say that the threat was well-earned.
Still, it's unnerving to have a certified lunatic who kills people with whom he has a problem with rabid dogs, anti-aircraft guns and flamethrowers to have control of intercontinental ballistic missiles capable of carrying nuclear payloads. Although I'm dubious of his ability to successfully strike the continental United States, he could wreak havoc on neighboring countries, mainly South Korea and Japan. What his endgame is is anyone's guess, but it may boil down to something so simple as getting attention from world powers to elevate himself in his people's eyes.
But since I'm an attorney, and since most military men also deal with worst case scenarios, let's say that North Korea finds the wherewithal to launch successfully a nuclear ICBM at the homeland. Pick the target; it really doesn't matter. If that were to happen, the gloves come off.
North Korea is a terrible land. Its mountainous landscape lends itself to defense. If history teaches us anything, war there is a zero-sum game. With the tripwire of the DMZ, any incursion from the North would provide us ample time to rush forces there and attack the vulnerable flanks of the peninsula. The North has an intimidating military, but it's finite. Unlike the Chinese behemoth, the North doesn't possess an endless stream of personnel. Eventually, attrition would take its toll.
Sure, people are worried about the Chinese getting involved and, given their belligerence, that's a concern. But if the North were to launch an unprovoked strike against the West, and the West retaliated, I doubt the Chinese would intervene unless they felt threatened, as they did when Dugout Doug vowed to cross the Yalu.
But if the North Koreans were to successfully launch an ICBM at the homeland, I wouldn't mess around. I'd turn that country into a parking lot. Normally, I don't suggest such flagrant responses, but in this case there are plenty of benefits. First, there's no point in using ground troops. It would be a slaughterhouse. Second, we don't need another protracted war. We're stretched too thin as it is.
No, we simply nuke the place. Turn it into a parking lot. I know lots of people suggest this for the Middle East, but I'd rather use North Korea as the proving ground to show the Islamofascists what's in store for them if they continue their jihad. Besides, it'll give the Chinese pause and render North Korea uninhabitable for years. It's not like their people are living now.
It's a harsh answer, I know. And usually I'm not this bloodthirsty. But enough is enough. How long must we have our nose tweaked for no good reason before we hit back? And not just hit back; hit them so hard that they never come back. It sends a message to other enemies that if they persist in their attacks against our country, a horrible death awaits them.
It's an unpopular decision.
Tough.
War isn't based on popularity.
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
Wednesday, July 26, 2017
From Russia, Not With Love
Has our victory in the Cold War come to this?
I have never seen such useless handwringing, gnashing of teeth, rending of garments and hair-pulling over such an inconsequential issue in my life. Sure, if it were proven that the Russians aided or abetted voter fraud to throw a presidential election, it would be troubling. Any American who participated in that would go to jail for a very long time. But for all the noise we've heard about this, we've seen precious little evidence of any wrongdoing.
Make no mistake: The Russians love to meddle. Since the days of Peter the Great, Russia has longed to keep its outsiders at arms' length. By destabilizing one of its biggest competitors, Russia stood not only to secure its existence (did I mention Russians are paranoid...?) but also to elevate itself in the eyes of the rest of the world. Given its size, its military and its oil reserves, Russia is in a position to dominate other countries and thereby preserve its hegemony over them. Unless, of course, the United States with our myriad assets exists to nullify the Russians' advantages and overtake them.
But is it really in Russia's best interests to weaken the US? A growing and aggressive Chinese military threatens to shut down the Pacific to the Russians. Its population is some eight times the Russian population, outstripping it by a factor of ten in the Far East. With the United States as a counterbalance, the Russians can breathe a little bit easier, although they'd still have to be wary of a belligerent China.
Still, even assuming Russia interfered in the 2016 general elections, where's the proof? Wouldn't the intelligence agencies be releasing information to Congress or the White House showing that the results were rigged? Why is Congress wasting its time chasing these non-starters about how Jr. met with this operative or Kushner talked with this lawyer or Ivanka shared a drink with this Russian? For virtually every alleged sin committed by the Trump campaign and administration there's at least one story debunking the allegation. Meanwhile, judicial positions remain unfilled, Obamacare remains unrepealed, tax reform is stalled and we look like a laughingstock to the rest of the world.
I can't say categorically that nothing happened. But unless and until someone proves otherwise, enough is enough. Especially when one considers the relative yawn coming from the MSM regarding the misdeeds of the Clintons when it came to selling assets of the country for personal profit. Again, there are two sets of standards: One for liberals and another for everyone else.
What the Russia adventure proves is the fecklessness of our MSM. There is no one willing to look beyond this Potemkin village (sorry, had to use it) and go after the Clintons, or take the Democrats to task for obstructionism, or report on the ills of sanctuary cities. Instead, the MSM has appointed itself President Trump's Javert and will dog his every step until it ousts him from the Oval Office.
Only partially sardonically, if the Russians in fact meddled in our election, they might have done us an invaluable service. If they hadn't, Cankles might have won.
What would the MSM have to do were she president...?
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
I have never seen such useless handwringing, gnashing of teeth, rending of garments and hair-pulling over such an inconsequential issue in my life. Sure, if it were proven that the Russians aided or abetted voter fraud to throw a presidential election, it would be troubling. Any American who participated in that would go to jail for a very long time. But for all the noise we've heard about this, we've seen precious little evidence of any wrongdoing.
Make no mistake: The Russians love to meddle. Since the days of Peter the Great, Russia has longed to keep its outsiders at arms' length. By destabilizing one of its biggest competitors, Russia stood not only to secure its existence (did I mention Russians are paranoid...?) but also to elevate itself in the eyes of the rest of the world. Given its size, its military and its oil reserves, Russia is in a position to dominate other countries and thereby preserve its hegemony over them. Unless, of course, the United States with our myriad assets exists to nullify the Russians' advantages and overtake them.
But is it really in Russia's best interests to weaken the US? A growing and aggressive Chinese military threatens to shut down the Pacific to the Russians. Its population is some eight times the Russian population, outstripping it by a factor of ten in the Far East. With the United States as a counterbalance, the Russians can breathe a little bit easier, although they'd still have to be wary of a belligerent China.
Still, even assuming Russia interfered in the 2016 general elections, where's the proof? Wouldn't the intelligence agencies be releasing information to Congress or the White House showing that the results were rigged? Why is Congress wasting its time chasing these non-starters about how Jr. met with this operative or Kushner talked with this lawyer or Ivanka shared a drink with this Russian? For virtually every alleged sin committed by the Trump campaign and administration there's at least one story debunking the allegation. Meanwhile, judicial positions remain unfilled, Obamacare remains unrepealed, tax reform is stalled and we look like a laughingstock to the rest of the world.
I can't say categorically that nothing happened. But unless and until someone proves otherwise, enough is enough. Especially when one considers the relative yawn coming from the MSM regarding the misdeeds of the Clintons when it came to selling assets of the country for personal profit. Again, there are two sets of standards: One for liberals and another for everyone else.
What the Russia adventure proves is the fecklessness of our MSM. There is no one willing to look beyond this Potemkin village (sorry, had to use it) and go after the Clintons, or take the Democrats to task for obstructionism, or report on the ills of sanctuary cities. Instead, the MSM has appointed itself President Trump's Javert and will dog his every step until it ousts him from the Oval Office.
Only partially sardonically, if the Russians in fact meddled in our election, they might have done us an invaluable service. If they hadn't, Cankles might have won.
What would the MSM have to do were she president...?
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
Thursday, July 13, 2017
Hot For Teacher
Growing up, virtually any male going through puberty had fantasies of hooking up with the hot teacher in his school. Not that there was much chance of it happening; the 60's and 70's might have been the era of free love, but it hadn't yet found its way to the classrooms of middle schools and high schools.
Times have changed...mightily.
Nowadays, hardly a month goes by without there being a report about some teacher preying on a teenaged male student or students. Guys my age derisively and only half-jokingly ask where these women were when we were growing up, but in truth this is becoming a huge problem. One of the most recent stories involved a married woman with children who adopted a fifteen-year-old boy solely so he would be in her home for the purposes of sex. In perhaps the most disgusting of the reports, an older woman had sex with a mentally disabled youth.
And people say men are oversexed...
One might think that the women involved in these accounts are the type who can't find a man on their own so they resort to younger boys who are more pliable. From the mug shots that are put online, that isn't the case. Sure, there are some women who are probably not finding a mate of their own age, but a lot of these women are not only married, but they're attractive to varying degrees. Here's one compilation of women who engage in sex with teenagers:
http://www.foxnews.com/us/slideshow/2017/06/29/female-teachers-charged-or-convicted-having-sex-with-students.html#/slide/loryn-Barclay
And here's yet another:
http://www.cbsnews.com/pictures/notorious-teacher-sex-scandals/?ftag=ACQb72972c&vndid=00474a66c55d0c6edfd2589c64ab95a565
There doesn't appear to be any rhyme or reason as to the motivation of these women. It's almost a given that older men prey on young girls, sick as that is. Perhaps there's something primal in it, but civilization has not only frowned on that, it's passed laws against it. What civilization and the law seem to have overlooked is that no matter how badly men act, women can act just as poorly.
The fact that women are now making cringe-worthy movies to imitate the likes of The Hangover proves that women can't claim moral superiority as a gender. But it shocks the conscience, at first, when acts such as these are aired. As a civilization, we're not used to women acting with this level of depravity; we almost expect it of men.
The element in this that shocks me isn't that women do it but that married women do it. Perhaps there's something wrong in the marriage, something missing. But some of these women are not only married but have young children. These aren't dowagers with grown children; these are (in some cases good-looking) women in their twenties and thirties who are getting involved with teenagers, boys just years older than the women's oldest children. And in some cases, the woman are getting pregnant by their post-pubescent lovers.
Yes, there are some women in their forties who are also doing this. But the majority, shockingly, are as I described them.
Why not just have an affair with an older man, or a man around their age? Why add statutory rape to the misdeeds of which they'll be accused. I find it hard to believe there are on men of majority age attractive enough to turn the heads of these women.
Or is it just the taboo aspect of it? If that's it, the thrill of the forbidden, why not stick to older men and have an affair?
Most guys would scoff at the notion that these young boys will be scarred by the experience. If that were me, they'd say, I'd be smiling 'til my dying day. And perhaps some are. But for as parental as the laws may be, there's good reason to prohibit sex between adults and minors, one of which is the traumatic effect that such experiences may have on the minors, effects, which, may not manifest themselves for years.
As with cellphones that take pictures, trains that travel nearly 200 mph and cable television that offers thousands of channels, we're in a brave new world, one that Aldous Huxley may not have foreseen.
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
Times have changed...mightily.
Nowadays, hardly a month goes by without there being a report about some teacher preying on a teenaged male student or students. Guys my age derisively and only half-jokingly ask where these women were when we were growing up, but in truth this is becoming a huge problem. One of the most recent stories involved a married woman with children who adopted a fifteen-year-old boy solely so he would be in her home for the purposes of sex. In perhaps the most disgusting of the reports, an older woman had sex with a mentally disabled youth.
And people say men are oversexed...
One might think that the women involved in these accounts are the type who can't find a man on their own so they resort to younger boys who are more pliable. From the mug shots that are put online, that isn't the case. Sure, there are some women who are probably not finding a mate of their own age, but a lot of these women are not only married, but they're attractive to varying degrees. Here's one compilation of women who engage in sex with teenagers:
http://www.foxnews.com/us/slideshow/2017/06/29/female-teachers-charged-or-convicted-having-sex-with-students.html#/slide/loryn-Barclay
And here's yet another:
http://www.cbsnews.com/pictures/notorious-teacher-sex-scandals/?ftag=ACQb72972c&vndid=00474a66c55d0c6edfd2589c64ab95a565
There doesn't appear to be any rhyme or reason as to the motivation of these women. It's almost a given that older men prey on young girls, sick as that is. Perhaps there's something primal in it, but civilization has not only frowned on that, it's passed laws against it. What civilization and the law seem to have overlooked is that no matter how badly men act, women can act just as poorly.
The fact that women are now making cringe-worthy movies to imitate the likes of The Hangover proves that women can't claim moral superiority as a gender. But it shocks the conscience, at first, when acts such as these are aired. As a civilization, we're not used to women acting with this level of depravity; we almost expect it of men.
The element in this that shocks me isn't that women do it but that married women do it. Perhaps there's something wrong in the marriage, something missing. But some of these women are not only married but have young children. These aren't dowagers with grown children; these are (in some cases good-looking) women in their twenties and thirties who are getting involved with teenagers, boys just years older than the women's oldest children. And in some cases, the woman are getting pregnant by their post-pubescent lovers.
Yes, there are some women in their forties who are also doing this. But the majority, shockingly, are as I described them.
Why not just have an affair with an older man, or a man around their age? Why add statutory rape to the misdeeds of which they'll be accused. I find it hard to believe there are on men of majority age attractive enough to turn the heads of these women.
Or is it just the taboo aspect of it? If that's it, the thrill of the forbidden, why not stick to older men and have an affair?
Most guys would scoff at the notion that these young boys will be scarred by the experience. If that were me, they'd say, I'd be smiling 'til my dying day. And perhaps some are. But for as parental as the laws may be, there's good reason to prohibit sex between adults and minors, one of which is the traumatic effect that such experiences may have on the minors, effects, which, may not manifest themselves for years.
As with cellphones that take pictures, trains that travel nearly 200 mph and cable television that offers thousands of channels, we're in a brave new world, one that Aldous Huxley may not have foreseen.
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
Trilogies
What is it with trilogies? As audiences, when there's a good first story, we like to continue with it and be entertained. Certainly, this is only possible in fiction, unless a non-fiction tale lends itself to three chapters. As a result, the authors typically follow a very distinct pattern: First book/movie either great or tantalizing, followed by huge expectations of a sequel that either disappoints or underwhelms, followed by the final chapter that either blows the first two away or equals the first installment.
Why is this?
Think about it: Whether it's a movie or a book trilogy, the pattern is almost inviolable (with the noted exception The Godfather trilogy, which miraculously turned this analysis on its head and had The Godfather III not only better the first movie, but perhaps is one of the best movies of all time, followed by one of the worst final acts in all the trilogies in existence).
Take the Indiana Jones movies. Raiders of the Lost Ark was a great movie. It grabbed one by the throat and held on until the doors of the warehouse shut. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was, well, too cutesy. It's probably best known for finding Steven Spielberg his wife, actress Kate Capshaw. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade was fantastic. The last scene where Indy has to find the Holy Grail guarded by the Templar was fantastic. Thus, original and final good, middle one mediocre.
(Don't even tell me there was a fourth movie. If anyone's paying attention, that fourth movie, a travesty, was a simple money-grab and made nearly a decade ago. That no other movie in the series has been forthcoming is telling.)
In literature, some recent trilogies support the thesis. The Dragon Tattoo series -- The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played With Fire and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest -- were all phenomenal books. They were so good, in fact, that I read all three inside of a month. But if I had to be honest and rank them, the first and the third were superior, however slightly, to the second. This is the rare trilogy where all three parts of the trilogy are exceptional. Even so, there's a slight dip in the second book compared to the first and the third.
Another trilogy that's presently being expanded to a fourth book is The Shadow of the Wind series. Not only is that title my favorite book title of all time, but it's a heck of a book to start a series. The first chapter alone is as gripping as anything ever written. Still, the follow-up, The Angel's Game, suffers not only from not being as interesting as The Shadow of the Wind, but in trying to be a prequel, explaining what set the first book in motion. The final book (until recently), The Prisoner of Heaven, is better than The Angel's Game, although it's not nearly as good as The Shadow of the Wind.
So where does this leave us? I don't know whether the authors got tired, lazy or too cute, but in almost every case, the second effort pales by comparison. Sometimes the third installment exceeds the first, but in almost every case, the first and the third installments are superior to the second.
Of course, one could try to equate this to the middle child always being troublesome. Perhaps there's something to that theory after all.
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
Why is this?
Think about it: Whether it's a movie or a book trilogy, the pattern is almost inviolable (with the noted exception The Godfather trilogy, which miraculously turned this analysis on its head and had The Godfather III not only better the first movie, but perhaps is one of the best movies of all time, followed by one of the worst final acts in all the trilogies in existence).
Take the Indiana Jones movies. Raiders of the Lost Ark was a great movie. It grabbed one by the throat and held on until the doors of the warehouse shut. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was, well, too cutesy. It's probably best known for finding Steven Spielberg his wife, actress Kate Capshaw. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade was fantastic. The last scene where Indy has to find the Holy Grail guarded by the Templar was fantastic. Thus, original and final good, middle one mediocre.
(Don't even tell me there was a fourth movie. If anyone's paying attention, that fourth movie, a travesty, was a simple money-grab and made nearly a decade ago. That no other movie in the series has been forthcoming is telling.)
In literature, some recent trilogies support the thesis. The Dragon Tattoo series -- The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played With Fire and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest -- were all phenomenal books. They were so good, in fact, that I read all three inside of a month. But if I had to be honest and rank them, the first and the third were superior, however slightly, to the second. This is the rare trilogy where all three parts of the trilogy are exceptional. Even so, there's a slight dip in the second book compared to the first and the third.
Another trilogy that's presently being expanded to a fourth book is The Shadow of the Wind series. Not only is that title my favorite book title of all time, but it's a heck of a book to start a series. The first chapter alone is as gripping as anything ever written. Still, the follow-up, The Angel's Game, suffers not only from not being as interesting as The Shadow of the Wind, but in trying to be a prequel, explaining what set the first book in motion. The final book (until recently), The Prisoner of Heaven, is better than The Angel's Game, although it's not nearly as good as The Shadow of the Wind.
So where does this leave us? I don't know whether the authors got tired, lazy or too cute, but in almost every case, the second effort pales by comparison. Sometimes the third installment exceeds the first, but in almost every case, the first and the third installments are superior to the second.
Of course, one could try to equate this to the middle child always being troublesome. Perhaps there's something to that theory after all.
(c) 2017 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
Thursday, June 29, 2017
Alaskan Bush People
Some time ago Karen started watching this show called Alaskan Bush People. It was understandable, since we're drawn to shows involving people living and working in Alaska. So I started watching with her and immediately noticed some weird differences between ABP and the other shows we watched.
For the uninitiated, ABP involves a family of nine, a couple and their seven children, who insist on living in the bush, as they call it, or the wilderness as it used to be known. The show follows their efforts building shelters, hunting and trying to carve out a town, called Browntown, based on their surname, in the wilderness. The children range in age from the low thirties to the upper teens. There are five boys and two girls. The parents are originally from the south, Billy Brown from Texas and Ami (pronounced AH mee) from Louisiana). Billy Brown worked on fishing vessels in Alaska and wrote a book called One Wave at a Time that apparently provided the basis for ABP. Someone must have read the book and decided this was a modern spin on The Swiss Family Robinson.
Initially, there were some interesting episodes. The family is, to say the least, eclectic. Some of the children go by the names of Bear, Bam, Raindrop and Birdy. They all have given names that are mostly Biblical, but one never learns that from the show. As if that weren't weird enough, several of the children speak with weird verbal ticks or inflections that aren't necessarily regional. Unless one's seen the show and heard the voices, it's hard to replicate in writing. But the speech is affectatious, overly mannered in a couple of instances.
Then there's the behavior. Bear, one of the middle children (who's thirty-years-old) absolutely loves to show off, climbing trees, running and jumping over logs, beating a freshly-caught fish in the head to kill it. Noah is the mechanically-inclined child, five years younger than Bear, who tries to play the Renaissance Man by writing poetry, engaging in jousting, wearing spurs and a top hat (?) and keeping his hair in a long-flowing ponytail. He is gifted when it comes to inventing things for Browntown, but the rest of his schtick is cringeworthy.
Were the show just this, it would be easy to ignore. Unfortunately for the Browns, reports seeped out that they weren't living so remotely on Chichagof Island as they'd have you believe. Apparently, they have neighbors barely two miles away and there are nearby towns so that the Browns are hardly living without a safety net. Online reports debunk the hardscrabble lifestyle the show presents, although the Browns and their TV network are silent about the allegations.
There have been attempts by the Brown boys to meet women, with the almost obligatory follow-up reports online that it was all staged. The purchase of a milk cow to make the family more independent was criticized as being staged. A lot of the things these folks do seem to be set-ups; skillful editing makes up for myriad ugly spots.
But now, reality has intruded. The matriarch, Ami, has been diagnosed with lung cancer. Almost unbelievably, there is a discussion as to whether they can continue to live in the bush or whether they have to abandon it for California, where Ami is being treated for her Stage 3 or 4 cancer. While we were watching this unfold, I derisively said, "Now we get to watch Ami die," which Karen almost immediately criticized. I wasn't being heartless; the network is being heartless. They are going to milk her illness and probable death for all the ratings it's worth. Throughout the show, a legend appears on the screen as they come back from commercials telling the audience that Events Continue to Unfold in Real Time; in other words, Death Watch 2017. Look, I'm no fan of the show. Whether this is a Potemkin village is beside the point: A woman's dying. Our Mother died from lung cancer. Is it too much to ask that the network let this woman live out her life in peace? Or is it going to milk this for ratings and therefore more revenue?
The show's been a crock from the beginning. It's offered up a manufactured reality for entertainment purposes, and that's fine.
Let this woman go in peace.
(c) The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
For the uninitiated, ABP involves a family of nine, a couple and their seven children, who insist on living in the bush, as they call it, or the wilderness as it used to be known. The show follows their efforts building shelters, hunting and trying to carve out a town, called Browntown, based on their surname, in the wilderness. The children range in age from the low thirties to the upper teens. There are five boys and two girls. The parents are originally from the south, Billy Brown from Texas and Ami (pronounced AH mee) from Louisiana). Billy Brown worked on fishing vessels in Alaska and wrote a book called One Wave at a Time that apparently provided the basis for ABP. Someone must have read the book and decided this was a modern spin on The Swiss Family Robinson.
Initially, there were some interesting episodes. The family is, to say the least, eclectic. Some of the children go by the names of Bear, Bam, Raindrop and Birdy. They all have given names that are mostly Biblical, but one never learns that from the show. As if that weren't weird enough, several of the children speak with weird verbal ticks or inflections that aren't necessarily regional. Unless one's seen the show and heard the voices, it's hard to replicate in writing. But the speech is affectatious, overly mannered in a couple of instances.
Then there's the behavior. Bear, one of the middle children (who's thirty-years-old) absolutely loves to show off, climbing trees, running and jumping over logs, beating a freshly-caught fish in the head to kill it. Noah is the mechanically-inclined child, five years younger than Bear, who tries to play the Renaissance Man by writing poetry, engaging in jousting, wearing spurs and a top hat (?) and keeping his hair in a long-flowing ponytail. He is gifted when it comes to inventing things for Browntown, but the rest of his schtick is cringeworthy.
Were the show just this, it would be easy to ignore. Unfortunately for the Browns, reports seeped out that they weren't living so remotely on Chichagof Island as they'd have you believe. Apparently, they have neighbors barely two miles away and there are nearby towns so that the Browns are hardly living without a safety net. Online reports debunk the hardscrabble lifestyle the show presents, although the Browns and their TV network are silent about the allegations.
There have been attempts by the Brown boys to meet women, with the almost obligatory follow-up reports online that it was all staged. The purchase of a milk cow to make the family more independent was criticized as being staged. A lot of the things these folks do seem to be set-ups; skillful editing makes up for myriad ugly spots.
But now, reality has intruded. The matriarch, Ami, has been diagnosed with lung cancer. Almost unbelievably, there is a discussion as to whether they can continue to live in the bush or whether they have to abandon it for California, where Ami is being treated for her Stage 3 or 4 cancer. While we were watching this unfold, I derisively said, "Now we get to watch Ami die," which Karen almost immediately criticized. I wasn't being heartless; the network is being heartless. They are going to milk her illness and probable death for all the ratings it's worth. Throughout the show, a legend appears on the screen as they come back from commercials telling the audience that Events Continue to Unfold in Real Time; in other words, Death Watch 2017. Look, I'm no fan of the show. Whether this is a Potemkin village is beside the point: A woman's dying. Our Mother died from lung cancer. Is it too much to ask that the network let this woman live out her life in peace? Or is it going to milk this for ratings and therefore more revenue?
The show's been a crock from the beginning. It's offered up a manufactured reality for entertainment purposes, and that's fine.
Let this woman go in peace.
(c) The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
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