picture of bill's head in a jarWhat's In Bill's Head?

Posts for Category WTF?

 

Mother Teresa was an evil witch I sometimes read the advice columns in the paper, primarily for entertainment but occasionally for insight. Some days it’s hard to avoid reading at least one of them, since The Washington Post carries at least four. All those plus the horoscope and that’s pretty much the Style section on a bad day.

I like Carolyn Hax, partly because she deals with issues that are more likely to be relevant to me than the others do, but mostly because I like her style. She tells people what they need to hear, gets snarky when she needs to, and doesn’t pull any punches.

I’m more familiar with Amy Dickinson from her role as a panelist on Wait Wait…Don’t Tell Me! than I am from reading her column, which I don’t do often, so I don’t have a good feel for her style. But the headline on her column caught my eye the other day and I read this (go look: I’m not making this up):

Dear Amy:

I have 10 children, ranging in age from 2 to 21. I am 51 years old. Am I still supposed to play with them? They think so, but I say, “Enough!”

Tired

Amy responds that “if at all possible you should interact with your children (at least sometimes) in play” and recommends that “Tired” and the rest of us watch the Babies documentary so we can see how important play is.

I suspect that Carolyn would not have been so mild in her response. And certainly I won’t be:

Dear “Tired”:

You did not indicate whether you created all of these children, or adopted them, or acquired them through marriage. I’m going to assume that you produced them all yourself, and say this: Are you fucking kidding me? You are the most selfish person I have encountered this week. You chose to burden this planet with 10 children, and now that you have fulfilled whatever narcissistic need that was all about you have decided that you can’t be bothered with being a parent to them.

You’re tired? You should have said “enough!” a long time ago. You didn’t realize after the first child or two that it takes some effort to be a parent? It took you 10 to figure that out? You didn’t think, at age 48, “Say, if I have another kid now, I’ll be 67 before she’s grown up and out of the house. Maybe I should make do with the 9 that I already have.”?

You need to go get yourself neutered right now and then spend some time thinking about whether your children would be better off with an adoptive parent who can spare the energy for them.

Instead of watching Babies, dear readers, you should all go read Julia Whitty’s article “The Last Taboo” from the current issue of Mother Jones magazine, which talks about the problems that our planet is facing due to overpopulation, and about the reluctance of our society to deal with or even discuss the issue.

The silver lining for you, “Tired”: you can stop worrying about your carbon footprint. Forget about recycling, sustainable living, and all the rest: Your carbon legacy dwarfs anything you can possibly make up for in your lifetime. Fun fact: you and your descendants will spew as much carbon into the atmosphere as 680 average Bangladeshi mothers and their descendants.

Seriously, people: go read the “The Last Taboo.” Even if you don’t care about or believe in the long-term impacts that human overpopulation is having on the planet you might be able to appreciate its impacts on people living today in overpopulated countries like India (17 percent of the human population squeezed into 2.5 percent of the Earth’s land; 53 percent of the population living in poverty). The article discusses the links between overpopulation, poverty, literacy, education, human rights, women’s rights, birth reproductive rights, and environmental degradation, and explores how microlending is helping with all of this.

A related article discusses the Catholic church’s untenable position on family planning and looks at how close the Vatican came in 1966 to allowing birth control.

It all got me thinking about Mother Teresa, who I recently learned is being honored with a U.S. postage stamp later this year. Apparently Americans still hold the image of Mother Teresa as a great humanitarian (though most, I suspect, are vague on what she’s meant to have done) and don’t realize that she was a fanatic and a fraud. Most people believe that Mother Teresa spent her life trying to improve the lot of India’s poor, when in fact she glorified poverty and suffering and did little to alleviate either. She vigorously opposed the one thing that could have done the most good for the population she claimed to care about: birth control.

Notes

Originally I had written “wanh” in the headline instead of “wah,” since there is no accepted spelling for that crying sound. Out of curiosity I did a search, and the Urban Dictionary entry for “wanh wanh” was one of the first hits. I was quite amused to find that two girls from a Catholic high school believe that they invented the expression “wanh wanh.” Who knows: maybe it’s true. Don’t stop believin’.

 

RIP Kuja: Bill Frist’s Gorilla Soulmate Dead at 23

 Posted by Bill on July 6, 2006 at 7:26 pm
Jul 062006
 

Kuja In May, in–I’m sorry, Laura, I’m sure you’re a very nice person but I have to say it—one of the worst pieces of writing I have ever seen in The Washington Post (well, outside the Sports, Sunday Source, and Religion sections), we learned that when he’s not busy offering unqualified opinions on brain-dead women, Bill Frist likes to perform surgery on gorillas at the National Zoo.

An excerpt to give you an idea of the awfulness of the writing and of the inanity of Frist’s pronouncements:

“This is home,” Frist said through his mask. “Where I spent 12 hours a day for 20 years.” [Bill’s note: this? right here? with the gorillas? Wait: I thought you did people!] Frist spent so much time in the hospital in Tennessee that when he came home to his wife and three sons he felt like an intruder.

He pressed his stethoscope to the gorilla’s chest and narrowed his eyes. Kuja, a silverback patriarch, was breathing isofluorine. He was the Senate majority leader of the gorillas, who negotiated disputes, back-slapped the ape boys and owned exclusive mating rights with the females [Bill’s note: WTF?!]. When Kuja started to stir, a veterinarian injected more anesthesia. One backhanded swipe could break Frist’s neck [Bill’s note: if only!].

Frist listened to the heart; the gorilla’s lub-dub sounded human. “When you’re this close, you feel this kind of oneness with them,” Frist said. The stink of ape sweat and gorilla testosterone soaked his hair and clothes. “Gorillas, people, men. You look at the people here, a symphonic flow of people pitching in. It’s the oneness of humanity.”

People and men? “Symphonic flow”? Are the gorillas part of the oneness of humanity, with the people and the men, or are they separate? Wait! The gorilla’s heart sounded human?! It’s a life! A sacred life! We need equal rights for gorilla fetuses!

Well, I could go on and on and on, but you don’t need me to because you can read the original article yourself and make your own jokes. But on Saturday (Canada Day!), Kuja died. No word on whether Frist was involved in this procedure.

Sorry, Kuja. It’s too bad you couldn’t have been known for something more dignified, instead of as a part of this bizarre political circus piece.


For more ridicule of the original story, see Wonkette and Hominid Views, or just go to Google and read until you can’t see through the tears of laughter any more.