Game Over

Beav died yesterday at 4PM. Watching the rapid fading of his mind followed shortly by the systematic shutting down of his body under these rare circumstances has created a whiplash in perception.

The mere existence of this mutant protein known as a prion called to mind memories of the mad cow disease upheaval in the UK back in the early 1990s. My recollection is surely exaggerated. I recall that cattle were slaughtered and burned and international trade bans  on beef were threatened or in some cases enacted.  I have this fuzzy image of bovine carcasses aflame in heaps, and as back drop I see rolling English hills, bright yellow with flax, a tall hedge lined lane cutting across them. Add hoards of peasantry wearing beige and brown clothing that lacks buttons gathered before a home made with hand shaped and kiln fired brick and having thick layers of thatch bundles as roofing. Something medieval in my created imagery.

Identifiable sentience or lucidity disappeared quickly. Three weeks ago today Beav spoke to me, the few words i previously mentioned. The last work he said to me was a word that I  would have liked to have been the last word he heard from me. That day as I left his room, with the second cognitive strain I witnessed that day (The first was identifying me by name) , he looked at me, his eyes focusing visibly, like the twisting of an antique hand telescope, he exhaled heavily saying, “Thanks”. And that was that.

His wife told me Saturday she thought that the day after he spoke to me, he had spoken some words to others and that those were the last words he ever spoke. She said that it had been over two weeks since he made real eye contact or had a facial expression that would be indicative of lucidity. So, Beav was gone for awhile from the perspective of others.

The hospice had him sedated heavily because he was a big strong man and kept trying to get up, with an unsettling look on his face. The alternative was restraints. So he lay and snored and with no supportive hydration of nutrition after a time, he lasted about a week.

Since May 22 I have grown to know Beav’s wife as if getting to know her  through immersion, like intensive language school. On my third visit and with the air cleared completely and the comfort to speak openly, I recalled something very poignant and talked about it.

Seems some well intended neighbors had to be those people, that being the people who challenged the hospice center and the wife on the beginning of the end being kick started  by the last time Beav took food or drink on his own volition.

I clearly see the roughness of the point I made and you will as well. But I am usually good at judging context and risk when I have the notion to say something like this. Rarely are circumstances so grave, however.

I reminded Beav’s wife of something that happened to Beav within the past 18 months or so. Beav was an uber gun enthusiast. But Beav would not, could not ponder hunting, never shooting an animal. He was not anti-hunting, He was not vegan or a militant animal rights person. He did not speak ill when I went off bird hunting, He did not evangelize about hunting or animals as food.He ate beef and pork and chicken and the rest.  He was just a regular man who had lots of guns and shot skeet, trap, rifle range, etc. at a club. He was licensed and he carried a pistol in his car. But he could not shoot an animal.

Then one day he was driving south of our town a few miles where there are two lane rural roads and he saw a car stopped in the road and a family, Mom, Dad, some kids, all standing looking in front of the car. Beav stopped, got out and walked up there and found s a deer in the road that the family had hit with their car. It was badly injured and was kicking to scoot itself off the side of the road into some weeds, terrified as maybe we’ve all seen with deer on the road side.

This alone would have Beav in tears. But the dilemma as he recounted this story was a heavy one for him. He saw the distress on the faces of the parents and kids, and he assessed that the deer was dying no matter what. He went to the car and got his pistol. He came back and asked the family to position themselves a certain way, away from him and the deer, and he fired multiple shots into the head of the deer. He then took his mobile phone out and called the Sheriff Dept. and gave his info to dispatcher and explained what occurred, he gave his business card to the Dad of the family, and he left. I imagine his face was slick with tears and that somewhere up the road he pulled off and wept.

That story and the subtle but potentially crude connection to the events that were unfolding in the hospice room was a risky thing for me to bring up. I do not know how she took it. Did she see a metaphor? Or, did she just recall, along with me, an anecdote that was a very heavy recent event in Beav’s life? Regardless she received it very well and of all the anecdotes we shared during all my visits, it was the most poignant.

Emotional Pole Dancing

Pastor called it emotional undressing.

Either way I share his dislike of doing it. But I need to unburden myself of some disappointments and get back min the right frame.

Mrs. Empath and I had procured a week at an all inclusive place on an island somewhere far south and east of Florida. We intended to celebrate our 25th anniversary thus. Id cashed mileage for first class airfare and we were chomping at the bit to go.

Both her and I were attending the gym, and I was playing tennis almost daily. We were able to get into shape over the past three months, eating right, sleeping well, high energy, etc.

Then, I got a tap on the shoulder two weeks ago and heard a whispered, “Hey, Empath, you recall that you have me…. Crohn’s disease ….right? You have not forgotten that I’m here just because Ive never bugged you before, right?”

Well I actually kinda had all but forgotten. So I received a reminder too significant to ignore. Events cascaded, ended up with GI doc doing all kinds of tests and putting me on nasty steroids of two flavors plus a couple of other meds.

My Big Crohn’s Debut….Yay….and our trip was cancelled. Thankfully the booking agent convinced me to pay a couple hundred bucks for trip insurance so we get everything refunded.

Today is the day, the anniversary we are celebrating.. I took the day off. I did so mainly because there was almost no sleep last night and I am weak enough to manage a spot-on bobble head imitation. Slightly anemic, a tad under nourished, and suffering the flares of the arthritis that goes with this monster, I’m starting to get demoralized. There has not been a good day in over two weeks.

I slept all day, until 5PM. Something like 18 hours of sleep. I feel better but this isn’t a problem that rest cures. There are no cures, just good times and bad times, remissions and flares. All with the use of steroids and other bad medicines.

Gives me a chance to weigh in on my favorite topic of food. There is no identified food or dietary trigger from a flare up, not is there a diet known to calm the flare. This is not celiac disease, a condition that more than half those claiming to have it have never has a test done by a doctor, and some who say they have it have had tests come back negative but insist the Doc is wrong, they are gluten intolerant.

This problem I have can be seen clearly with cameras in the right places. It isn’t subtle and when it flares it isn’t irritating…it is all consuming. Between blood loss, mal-absorption, dehydration, skin manifestations, arthritis, so forth, it takes weeks of life away.

So if someone has a dietary idea, Im glad to hear it. Before you share that Id ask that you make sure you know what crohns disease is and how much effort has gone into studying diet. If you are aware of something that may help, do tell. I’m open minded.

Meanwhile, my friend Beav is in hospice and may not make it through July. He cannot recognize anyone and is in restraints so he harms no one.

Some friends of ours from Dallas 26 years ago, their daughter was just murdered. BF, bad choices, bad thing happened. We have pics of our 22 year old son as a baby in the plastic kid pool with that girl.

There are lots worse things than my cancelled vacation and battle with crohns. Ill thank God joyfully as He always gives me context so that I do not emotionally pole dance too much

Wally revisited, and the tragedy of The Beav’s worse thing

About a year and a half ago I wrote a post called Free Wally. I love writing about these true dramas where, as a peripheral bit player, I experienced the events first hand. Because I am a bit player I have no need to obfuscate. Besides changing names and locations Free Wally was about a real group of guys with an age range spanning more than 30 years whose friendships yet abide. As the youngest member of this cobbled together bunch I treasure the blessing (and curse) of being able to chronicle these events.

First an update on Wally. When we left him last he was worrying about his pending retirement. More, he was concerned about his ability to sell  his 5500 sq. ft. home that he and his wife had lived in for the past 19 years, just the two of them. More, he was concerned that the gains on the home were not going to be handled judiciously, and even  such injudicious handling was not going to afford him a cabin and some land as well as a nice but smaller home in the city they had chosen for retirement.

The retirement occurred September 30, 2014. Miraculously the big local home sold in May this year. And the rest unfolded exactly as he did not want. They bought an expensive home in a swanky neighborhood in another city. I cannot get it out of my head that he said to me, “Empath, I never dreamed retiring would be so hard”.

But a tragedy has overshadowed Wally and his houses. Another man in my group who I have written vaguely of before is having his 65th birthday today. Let’s call him Beav.

This is a man so doting that, before his wife retired, he awoke and carried her papers while walking her to her car for her to leave for work. The car was parked just outside the garage door.. To be clear, I mean this to praise this man because I never have saw anything that suggested he was something other than just a giver.

His giving nature manifests in other ways. During winter and the week or two of freezing weather in my area, its common for men at work to discuss the ways we each protect our outdoor spigots. This past winter I added ten hour hand warmers to my regime on a few extreme nights, tucking one up the spigot then replacing the foam cup-like insulating device nearly everyone uses. “Beav” thought this was a great idea. He asked me if Id grab him a box of hand warmers are Walmart when I ran out at lunch to stock up. “And oh”, he added, “if you see that they have those foam insulators, grab me about 15 of them”. “Huh?”, I said. “You got 15 spigots Beav?” He replied that no, he had three, but he noticed several neighbors homes were unprotected and was going to just stick them on those  homes that evening.

Another time after a massive storm stopped power for days, he drove to some far away town where there were still generators for sale and bought three. He kept all three, having them to loan out during each subsequent storm to whoever needed them. I could go on and on.

On May 22nd he left the office after a normal day. That evening he was hospitalized with stroke symptoms. Over the next couple of weeks, stroke and tumors were eliminated as causes. I saw him a week ago and he said three words in 45 minutes. His cognitive ability was destroyed while he was physically OK. No weakness, no paralysis, no grimace or curled arms. Just no words. Expressive Aphasia they called it.

So Wally and Beav, they worked side by side for years. Wally, nearer to 70 now and with a tendency to butt dial his phone and have other tech snafus, when I called him yesterday Wally answered obviously on blue tooth. But something was wring and I couldn’t hear him well, nor he me. I immediately raised my voice and asked should I call him back. This resulted in a back an forth Q and A to establish what to do. But here’s the thing.

Each time Id ask a question, he’d answer it and then his wife would restate the exact same answer for him. An iteration looked like this.

Me: “Wally, can you hear me?”

Wally: “Not so well”

Mrs. Wally: “He says not so well”

After several iterations we hung up, he called minus B/T and we spoke.

I told him about Beav.  Had that subject matter have needed to pass through one of those iterations with the wife my head would have exploded.

The whole circle of life thing starting last February and somehow for me culminating in the events of yesterday with Wally’s wife answering his questions for him like an interpreter….these things worse than not good.

Because I was calling Wally to tell him that the Mayo Clinic had diagnosed Beav with Creutzfeldt Jakob disease. I knew about the condition because I am a nerd. But for those who may not, think analog to mad cow disease. Exceedingly rare (300/year in US contract it), zero treatments or even research treatments exist, transmission not understood well, and usually dementia to death in a couple of months. He is on the way home to enter hospice here locally.Happy birthday Beav.

Can I say that something is a worse thing without offering the thing to which it is compared? In this instance, yes. I can.

Game, a Philippians 4:4-7 Refutation

In another post on this blog it occurred to me what taproot the fundamentals of game grew from. That is, discontentment. Insecure, unhappy, disturbed, agitated people need someone to calm all of their tingles, to satiate their itches. To pass their fitness tests and affirm them, letting wives know that there husband is the stable rock in the midst of a storm strewn sea. That is why we see an increasing cry for men to “Man up”, provide more security at the same time their foundations are be smashed under their feet. The more those foundations are smashed the less peace everyone has the more everyone craves it. Then comes “game”; psychological trickery designed to recognize this lack of peace and to short circuit it’s response to suit the gamer, otherwise known as manipulation. When faced with an insecure wife, date, PUA prospect, the gamer sees opportunity, weakness to be exploited. He knows that if he behaves a certain way it will be perceived as strength and stability by the gamed. Trust me says the gamer, I won’t let you down…..

Thus saith the LORD; Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the LORD.

For he shall be like the heath in the desert, and shall not see when good cometh; but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land and not inhabited.

Blessed is the man that trusteth in the LORD, and whose hope the LORD is.

For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit.  Jeremiah 17:5-8

The gamer is a deceiver who offers the woman to “rest” in his masculinity, anchored in the void. The gamer says that women are weak while refusing to acknowledge their own weakness, because to acknowledge their own weakness and need to trust in God it would ruin their game.

In my argument I suggest that content women do no fitness test. They do not build instances by which they can test their husbands love and commitment to them. Why? Because their security comes from God, and that their contentment comes from their faith in Him. The drought doesn’t cause them concern, they know that they will continue to bear fruit because of Him and His goodness. Has their husband failed, is he weak, is he sick, unemployed? Sounds like a drought to me? Who is worried? The one who puts their trust in man.

Now see the connection:

Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice. Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand. Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:4-7)

By recognizing and being thankful for the provision of God we have peace. The lack of peace and Godliness in the world makes it a place open to deceit and manipulation to “work”. Game uses these very tools and this same appeal to pragmatism. Is it any wonder that the evils of feminism, preying on the sin nature of women also makes them susceptible to the predations of game? Jesus mapped the way out of this, death to the discontented self, death to the deceitful and manipulative self, and peace in Him.

Personal Jesus demands blood from his priests

We’ve talked about this idol named “Personal Jesus” quite a bit on this blog. Meditating on his identity today I started piecing together his characteristics and noted his similarity with another “Lord”, namely Baal.

1 Kings 18

And it came to pass after many days, that the word of the LORD came to Elijah in the third year, saying, Go, shew thyself unto Ahab; and I will send rain upon the earth. And Elijah went to shew himself unto Ahab. And there was a sore famine in Samaria. And Ahab called Obadiah, which was the governor of his house. (Now Obadiah feared the LORD greatly: For it was so, when Jezebel cut off the prophets of the LORD, that Obadiah took an hundred prophets, and hid them by fifty in a cave, and fed them with bread and water.) And Ahab said unto Obadiah, Go into the land, unto all fountains of water, and unto all brooks: peradventure we may find grass to save the horses and mules alive, that we lose not all the beasts. So they divided the land between them to pass throughout it: Ahab went one way by himself, and Obadiah went another way by himself. And as Obadiah was in the way, behold, Elijah met him: and he knew him, and fell on his face, and said, Art thou that my lord Elijah? And he answered him, I am: go, tell thy lord, Behold, Elijah is here. And he said, What have I sinned, that thou wouldest deliver thy servant into the hand of Ahab, to slay me? As the LORD thy God liveth, there is no nation or kingdom, whither my lord hath not sent to seek thee: and when they said, He is not there; he took an oath of the kingdom and nation, that they found thee not. And now thou sayest, Go, tell thy lord, Behold, Elijah is here. And it shall come to pass, as soon as I am gone from thee, that the Spirit of the LORD shall carry thee whither I know not; and so when I come and tell Ahab, and he cannot find thee, he shall slay me: but I thy servant fear the LORD from my youth. Was it not told my lord what I did when Jezebel slew the prophets of the LORD, how I hid an hundred men of the LORD’S prophets by fifty in a cave, and fed them with bread and water? And now thou sayest, Go, tell thy lord, Behold, Elijah is here: and he shall slay me. And Elijah said, As the LORD of hosts liveth, before whom I stand, I will surely shew myself unto him to day. So Obadiah went to meet Ahab, and told him: and Ahab went to meet Elijah. And it came to pass, when Ahab saw Elijah, that Ahab said unto him, Art thou he that troubleth Israel? And he answered, I have not troubled Israel; but thou, and thy father’s house, in that ye have forsaken the commandments of the LORD, and thou hast followed Baalim. Now therefore send, and gather to me all Israel unto mount Carmel, and the prophets of Baal four hundred and fifty, and the prophets of the groves four hundred, which eat at Jezebel’s table. So Ahab sent unto all the children of Israel, and gathered the prophets together unto mount Carmel. And Elijah came unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye between two opinions? if the LORD be God, follow him: but if Baal, then follow him. And the people answered him not a word. Then said Elijah unto the people, I, even I only, remain a prophet of the LORD; but Baal’s prophets are four hundred and fifty men. Let them therefore give us two bullocks; and let them choose one bullock for themselves, and cut it in pieces, and lay it on wood, and put no fire under: and I will dress the other bullock, and lay it on wood, and put no fire under: And call ye on the name of your gods, and I will call on the name of the LORD: and the God that answereth by fire, let him be God. And all the people answered and said, It is well spoken. And Elijah said unto the prophets of Baal, Choose you one bullock for yourselves, and dress it first; for ye are many; and call on the name of your gods, but put no fire underAnd they took the bullock which was given them, and they dressed it, and called on the name of Baal from morning even until noon, saying, O Baal, hear us. But there was no voice, nor any that answered. And they leaped upon the altar which was made. And it came to pass at noon, that Elijah mocked them, and said, Cry aloud: for he is a god; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awaked. And they cried aloud, and cut themselves after their manner with knives and lancets, till the blood gushed out upon them. And it came to pass, when midday was past, and they prophesied until the time of the offering of the evening sacrifice, that there was neither voice, nor any to answer, nor any that regarded. And Elijah said unto all the people, Come near unto me. And all the people came near unto him. And he repaired the altar of the LORD that was broken down. And Elijah took twelve stones, according to the number of the tribes of the sons of Jacob, unto whom the word of the LORD came, saying, Israel shall be thy name: And with the stones he built an altar in the name of the LORD: and he made a trench about the altar, as great as would contain two measures of seed. And he put the wood in order, and cut the bullock in pieces, and laid him on the wood, and said, Fill four barrels with water, and pour it on the burnt sacrifice, and on the wood. And he said, Do it the second time. And they did it the second time. And he said, Do it the third time. And they did it the third time. And the water ran round about the altar; and he filled the trench also with water. And it came to pass at the time of the offering of the evening sacrifice, that Elijah the prophet came near, and said, LORD God of Abraham, Isaac, and of Israel, let it be known this day that thou art God in Israel, and that I am thy servant, and that I have done all these things at thy word. Hear me, O LORD, hear me, that this people may know that thou art the LORD God, and that thou hast turned their heart back again. Then the fire of the LORD fell, and consumed the burnt sacrifice, and the wood, and the stones, and the dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench. And when all the people saw it, they fell on their faces: and they said, The LORD, he is the God; the LORD, he is the God. And Elijah said unto them, Take the prophets of Baal; let not one of them escape. And they took them: and Elijah brought them down to the brook Kishon, and slew them there. And Elijah said unto Ahab, Get thee up, eat and drink; for there is a sound of abundance of rain. So Ahab went up to eat and to drink. And Elijah went up to the top of Carmel; and he cast himself down upon the earth, and put his face between his knees, And said to his servant, Go up now, look toward the sea. And he went up, and looked, and said, There is nothing. And he said, Go again seven times. And it came to pass at the seventh time, that he said, Behold, there ariseth a little cloud out of the sea, like a man’s hand. And he said, Go up, say unto Ahab, Prepare thy chariot, and get thee down, that the rain stop thee not. And it came to pass in the mean while, that the heaven was black with clouds and wind, and there was a great rain. And Ahab rode, and went to Jezreel. And the hand of the LORD was on Elijah; and he girded up his loins, and ran before Ahab to the entrance of Jezreel.

Neither “deity”, Baal or Personal Jesus, hates divorce or remarriage, neither “deity” condemns the shedding of innocent blood (whether it is Naboth at the hands of Jezebel or the unborn at the hands of modern Jezebels) if it enriches their followers, neither have a problem with matriarchy, both require the sacrifices of their priests. Before we had the gouging themselves with lances seeking “the lift”, not they denigrate leadership and masculinity. In the case of Baal, the priests pierced themselves to win the attention of their “god”, today they pierce themselves in the New Testament sense, that is, on what Paul would call the “grief” of marriage. Rainey, Dobson, Mohler, Driscoll and their followers call for greater sacrifices hoping that “fire” will fall and prove their “god” to be true. They cannot just walk away, they are invested, their strategy must give success (in the form of marriages) and the string of failures only serve to increase the frenzy of their desperate attempts.

Like Elijah, 7000 have not bowed the knee. We know our God will answer. We know Jezebel is going to be thrown down and consumed by dogs. We know that the priests of Personal Jesus are going to die at that brook because Personal Jesus doesn’t answer (and the marriages they “cover” are living proof of it). These Baal worshipers are proving every day that their sacrifice is NOT being accepted. The mocking has already begun. These are the days of Elijah……..

Husbands have to say “But Mom”

Barbara Rainey is talking about censoring media in the home. She starts by pointing out that censorship can stratify by age of the children and that younger kids be protected from older kids’ preferences.

We’ve seen that an older teen who is making the right kinds of choices can help you establish the right standards for your younger children.

So far so good.

So although everyone has personal tastes in media–TV, movies, music–parents need to take responsibility for setting and maintaining boundaries that work for the entire family

Still tracking ok. But comes the rub.

[  ]you have the right to screen–and to bar–all media consumed by everyone in the household.

Everyone in the household.

I ran afoul of this early in my marriage. I was a new Christian and all in with what was happening as my wife expressed how she didn’t like me listening to a certain musician because he or she was gay. She didn’t like certain fiction I read because she considered it evil. None of these things had anything to do with sex or pornography. She had been raised and lived as a young adult with a set of boundaries, determined by her mother and older sisters, that included:

  • I cannot recall the designer but a certain female designer of clothing was allegedly a satanist, so her family would boycott stores that carried it.
  • The cartoon, The Smurfs was verboten. It had some shamanic aspect.
  • SpongeBob was resisted due to “the way it was drawn”
  • The Little Mermaid movie “had a witch in it”
  • So forth.

I threw away CDs and books. I went to all Christian music and fiction. And I resented it. Years later when we separated for a time and I awoke to my musical preferences and my reading and film preferences it was like a dead part of me returned to life. When we reconciled I did not revert back to the censorship, nor will I ever again.

We are sensible about these things. We do not live unfettered in this regard. And her preconceived rigidity relaxed.

Now with three kids old enough to be able to see what they are made of, when I compare my brood to those who suffered their entire childhoods under mothers that restricted things based on urban legends and a perverse sort of in-group peer pressure to out-Dugger each other, I’m very confident in having made mostly good choices.

Rainey quotes her son’s reaction to the restrictions.

“But, Mom . . .”

I wonder how many men feel they need a similarly functioning lament to lay on their wives.

Playing hide and seek with the truth

This is from a 13 year old article from Family Life. It didn’t improve with age.

This is blatantly toxic advice for resolving sexual tension in marriage born of low sexual frequency.

Romance for a man means sex. He cannot imagine romance without having sex. Romance for a woman can mean lots of things, and sex may or may not be a part of it.

Romance is basically a game. It is a specific game. It is a game of “hide-and-go-seek.” She hides it and you seek it. If you find it, you will indeed agree that it’s good! On the other hand, if you don’t find it, you have one of two options. First, you can get nasty, mean, and bent out of shape and just be a miserable old grouch for the rest of your life. I have met a number of men just like that. Or second, you can remind yourself, it’s a game. Sometimes I win, and sometimes I lose. But that’s the fun of playing the game.

But there’s a second part to this game, and this is not fair. However, we dealt long ago with the fact that some things aren’t fair; it’s just the way they are. Guys, you must understand. What is romantic to your wife, say, on Monday, may not necessarily be romantic on Tuesday. Indeed, women are adept at moving the romance on a regular basis, sometimes even hiding it in places where they can’t even find it. When you go searching for romance in the place where it used to be, but now you discover that it is no longer there, don’t be surprised if looking over your shoulder is the woman that God gave you, and with her eyes she says something like this, “Yes, my darling. I moved the romance. It’s somewhere else now. And I’m going to wait to see if you love me enough to look for it all over again.”

Now again, guys, you can get angry, mean, and bent out of shape, or you can remember, it’s a game. And games can be fun. Sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose. But it’s all a great game. Men, if you will approach romance in this way, not only will you find it fun, but you will also get better at it along the way.

How cute. He has taken the clear admonishment of The Lord and turned it into a game. Has made the wife’s refusal not a matter of her ignoring her clear obligation but a matter of her being playful and making life a fun game for her husband. The writer says the man can have a blast playing this game. Even when, as he says clearly, it is not winnable from the get go.

He says, “sometimes even hiding it in places where they can’t even find it”. This is the ultimate way of getting responsibility off the woman for her actions. It is, after all, an action to hide something is it not?

He doesn’t stop with her lack of obligation nor with her lack of responsibility. He additionally celebrates the fact that she can taunt him with his sex drive when he says,

“Yes, my darling. I moved the romance. It’s somewhere else now. And I’m going to wait to see if you love me enough to look for it all over again.”

Twisted? Sick? A perversion? Yes. All those and worse.

There are several bullet points in the article but I’ll touch only two more more. First

4) She needs intimate conversation. A woman needs a husband who will talk with her at the feeling level (heart to heart). She needs a man who will listen to her thoughts about the events of her day with sensitivity, interest, and concern. Daily conversation with her conveys her husband’s desire to understand her. Wise men learn soon after marriage that women are masters of code language. They say what they mean and expect you to know what they mean, and the particular words really don’t matter. Unfortunately some men are simply ill prepared and a little dense at this point, and it often gets them into serious trouble.

Another game. Decipher nonsense. No matter if she strings together random words or even makes up new ones…he is dense if she doesn’t know her well enough to get her point.

If she says, “The vorvg is flarb” he just knows that she is feeling nervous and vulnerable about something happening with her group of friends. The particular words don’t matter.

More toxicity on a kebab.


5) She needs honesty and openness. A woman needs a man who will look into her eyes and, in love, tell her what he is really thinking. He will explain his plans and actions clearly and completely to her because he regards himself as responsible for her. He wants her to trust him and feel secure. He wants her to know how precious she is to him. Growing openness and honesty will always mark a marriage when a man loves a woman.

Notice that when the man is honest, its not to tell her that he opposes some course opf action she is undertaking. its to explain HIS plans and actions to her so that she can trust him as he executes them. In other words he is seeking her approval about him. If whats on his mind is anything convicting….say he wanted to tell her she shouldn’t be -hiding the romance-that would be mean and overbearing.

I wonder how after all these years this group is still able to sell this poison. even the Lift is not worth all this is it?

Between selfishness and martyrdom, the middle kingdom of matriarchy

Many in the sphere write that women are incapable of loving. I understand why they make this claim but cannot endorse it. Yet I’d claim that even with all of my self derived terminology tied to the word empathy, I cannot say that women are the empathetic champions they are made out to be.

We celebrate the empathy of women when we herald them at Mother’s Day. Men’s groups, pastors, counselors, even pedestrians we encounter daily are fast with a remark about the sensitivity and emotional availability of women.

Then we hear that love is an action, not a feeling. We hear that spoken to men, while we see lack of it in practice overlooked in women. The veneer, the facade, it is well crafted. The materials of construction are not dissimilar to those same materials that are used to construct elaborate passive aggressive ruses that are deployed to exert soft control of men and of children by women.

Indeed, soft control…the female leadership strategy of preference, is at the center of the amalgam of her actions. This stretches across all races, ages, socioeconomic groups and the religious as well as the irreligious.

For now the religious.

I’ve written before about the matriarchy that is the rural southern Baptist home that is at once held forth as the pinnacle of patriarchy while being in truth a den of overlapping matriarchies. Ive written about my own in-laws who are wonderful people and good citizens. Good Baptists after all make good citizens.

The mother softly controls all things through a combination of hints and offers, compliments and complaints, and just quiet muttering as if to self but aimed like a laser for the target ear. Over the 26 years Ive been around them it hasn’t gotten worse as they reached elderly status. Rather it has shown keen versatility in that she leverages age related nuances brilliantly to evoke -the appropriate response-, that being the response she designed into the strategy.

The simple example. We were to attend the opening of a new venue for tourists in the city where we live. The in-laws have been here for wife’s and son’s graduations…her from nursing school and him from high school. Its raining cats and dogs and lemurs and we are postponing this outing. My father in law suffers Parkinson disease and the resulting shuffling feet. He must use a walker. So we are delaying and I said I would go get the brake light fixed on their car. They cannot drive but they have a big old Lincoln Town Car that my wife drove them here in, back from Texas, so they would be comfortable.

I sat to read and or write on the PC. MIL came past asking had I seen her car keys. I indicated where they were and she said, “I was just making sure you had no trouble finding them”. Men reading here know the translation of the passive aggressive language is, “Are you gonna sit there or go fix the car like you said you would?”

That’s the easy stuff. Wives do that daily. Why be direct when you can make yourself feel better by being polite? Like the expression “me gustaria” or “quisiera” in Spanish. At least those are words that are designed for passive politeness. They are not obfuscations, though I’m guessing a Spanish speaking woman could deploy them as such.

Worse are the manifestations of selfishness and or martyr complexes, used individually or in combination. The selfless matriarch will say, “oh why’d you not ask me, sit down and relax I will do that” when she sees you dealing with the ox that’s obviously been laying in the ditch all day for days. Its like inviting someone to go somewhere knowing all along they cannot attend  due to a conflict. Credit for the selfless generous act but no doing. Or, doing the act, grunting in the effort (again, not an arisen with age thing) and accepting the resulting sympathy and gratitude.

My oldest and more kindred of my two excellent sons is red pill aware and perceptive of nuance. He said to me Thursday while we played tennis that what he sees now in the in-law marriage dynamic and what he thought he saw as a kid are vastly different. That MIL is plainly mean to FIL. He’d heard her call him “idiot”.

When he was a child the kingdom appeared to have a king, the queen seemed deserving of her crown. The kingdom seemed a patriarchy because the daughters…my wife and sisters…hovered around their father doting and repeating his legendary tales. He was an affable king beloved by all in his sphere. Loved so much that even the queen occasionally joined in the quoting of significant histories.

I’d entered the kingdom as an adult and found some unidentifiable discomfort each time we passed through the outer lands and entered the kingdoms. The queen was the moral authority of all, of even the king. The queen had the harried countenance of a bond servant, rarely taking meals at the main table, choosing to instead stay amongst the things of work, of meal preparation and clean up. She was lauded. She would respond when the king called, “bring me a goblet of milk”. But she could not tolerate the kings physical presence if the king showed human affection. If the king made comments, as he did when 50 years of marriage were celebrated, that he’d been blessed with the best wife in the history of the lands, she’d not demure, she’d not express gratitude or hint at mutuality. She’d address him dismissively in response.

Now the king is old and infirm. He is in many ways helpless. And the queen has been able to more openly usurp. She is more openly verbally derisive and now that she has established herself in her home as the able and capable one she brings her authority into the kingdoms of her children but in the old passive ways.

We had an ER situation with my youngest son this past week. Stroke like symptoms, garbled speech, forgetful, etc. Urgent CT scan, all manner of blood and urine tests, no diagnosis…symptoms persist, answers forthcoming. And the queen seemed out of sorts that this emergency was drawing attention and sympathy away from her. She overtly downplayed the situation. She reminded everyone of every emergency past and present existing amidst her immediate sphere. One person’s dog was killed by a truck, another grand child was just recovering from Lyme disease, news that if on paper was old enough that it would be yellowed, another was unemployed, one daughter had suffered leukemia as a child (untrue, an exaggeration, the girl had some other condition prefixed with leuk,  and don’t worry, my son was just a growing 18 year old…tired because of growing, nothing to see here despite his childhood history of seizures and the pending EEGs and MRI to come next week. .

Petty of me to spread these rumors through the outer kingdoms. They are low rumors and will settle with no resulting upheavals.

We’ve managed to resist and must maintain only another week. Soon she will return to the newly established middle kingdom of Matriarchy and the royal female influence in the outer lands will wane. .

Mind Bending Linearity

Is it just me or should the ad below not have the linear vs. non-linear reversed? I have an employee who is a very non-linear communicator. He backs up and takes sideways tangents filling in superfluous details, often losing himself there and never returning to the point. I have not mastered hiding my impatience 100% of the time but he is aloof to it anyway.

Can feminism have so corrupted the culture that non-linear communication is the presumed default mode for the boss, and linear that of the employee? Depending on the industry its difficult for me to imagine non-linear communicators advancing the ranks in numbers that would make this the default assumption.