I wish Dreher would go to Hungary where he could find his real calling as a fascist apparatchik/sycophant and never bother us here in the good old USA ever again, not that this will actually happen.
Congratulations, Roy, this was almost as annoying to read as Dreher’s own prose, and that’s saying something.
The family in which Dreher was raised (parents and sister) were likely assholes in their own way (that family produced Dreher himself, after all), but it's remarkable that BOTH of Dreher’s families eventually told him to fuck off. He is not simply divorcing, which is fairly commonplace, he is abandoning his two younger children to move to Hungary and he has publicly confirmed he is estranged from them.
Being cast out BOTH by your family of origin as well as by your wife *and your own children* does not happen to ONE individual simply because of chance or bad luck. But it *does* happen to someone who is a navel-gazing, insufferable dick to his nearest and dearest. No surprises there.
Oh. My. God. That something with as little self-awareness as Dreher can move and function and even communicate, after a fashion, is just amazing. I don’t have time right now to savor that whole essay you linked to but as soon as I can, I will. Thanks and as usual, great job!
I think we all worry about you crawling too far inside your subjects head for these pieces. Be careful out there!
I think Rod came home from his most recent trip and blamed, like always, his lack of performance during the expected
lusty return to the conjugal bed. on jet lag. His wife, as had become her custom on these occasions , patted his expansive forehead, whispered " There, there" and fell into deep deep sleep.
Later in her sleep when she cried out " "Mi Toro! " and " Popa Grande!"
Rod thought about how earlier, when he mentioned how nice the flowerbeds looked and how neatly the grass was cut
his wife said that the new gardener was doing an excellent job. Thorough and attentive.
I tried to read the Dreher post but gave up. How many thousands of words does it take to say, “You can’t go home again, if you’re an insufferable asshole?”
"come to think of it, the sullen silences, slammed doors, and broken crockery I had previous attributed to demonic intervention may also have been warnings (though I certainly wouldn’t rule the Devil out)"
I think it's cute when folx think they are soooooo important that the devil herself would find their lives worthy of messing with.
Gotta be, but at some point, this piece stopped making sense. Maybe it's a reflection on the source material...?
Just checked and holy shit! Speaking of which:
"Budapest — how lovely it sounds when you pronounce the “s” like “sh”!"
Highly amused by that juvenile joke but then that stuff's my jam.
That said, y'all know my theory about Rod's coming divorce: Sex is at most incidental; I'm convinced the wife just had her fill of him and his bullshit.
And speaking of Mayberry: Unlike last year's road trip, this one offer no pleasant surprises other than, I suppose, the Blue Ridge Parkway with its sense of being in no time and, in places, no specific place either; just loose in time and space. But we stopped overnight in Mt. Airy and it was kind of depressing, partly in a failed tourist town sort of way. I mean, like when one saw a tip jar labeled "college fund" one had to wonder whether it was a con.
I confess I read the Dreher piece all the way through. It was exhausting and repetitive, but I couldn’t look away, as it was hypnotically repellent. Made me grateful not having to live inside his head full time.
Nothing to do with Dreher, but in the way that a certain word or phrase can trigger associations in the aging brain, I once owned (and may still own, somewhere) a shoebox of audio cassettes of The Barney Years (the only TRUE incarnation of The Andy Griffith Show). Audio cassettes because that newfangled VHS thing wasn't yet available at my parent's price point. The show works surprisingly well as a radio drama. One thing I always liked was the scoring, which was Hollywood-traditional in that each major character had a theme, and then variations on that theme depending on the character's mood. It's hard today to imagine a simple half-hour sitcom getting the services of a full studio orchestra, but that's how they did it back then.
Today, of course, the show's too cringey to watch (or listen to, if I could find that damn shoebox). At the height of the civil-rights movement, a show with a Southern Sherriff as the hero? In a town where no black faces are seen? C'mon, Andy, what did you and Barney do with all the black folks? (don't answer, I can imagine). And this his how THE WOKENESS destroys the joys of youth.
(I don't follow Dreher. Here's my summary.) Looks like he moved "back home" to Louisiana some twelve years ago. It didn't go well, but here he won't say how. His family somehow disappointed him on a cosmic scale, doing terrestrial things. The whole experience led to his recent divorce, and it was bad for their children. The divorce, and moreover his move to Hungary, will mark an end to this time of pain and disillusionment most poignant. As Dreher drifts out of frame, his wisdom seems to grow.
"Can you get a hairshirt through airport security? No? Guess I will have to leave that behind. Truly the trials of Job will pale by comparison."
-Dreher, probably
I wish Dreher would go to Hungary where he could find his real calling as a fascist apparatchik/sycophant and never bother us here in the good old USA ever again, not that this will actually happen.
Congratulations, Roy, this was almost as annoying to read as Dreher’s own prose, and that’s saying something.
The family in which Dreher was raised (parents and sister) were likely assholes in their own way (that family produced Dreher himself, after all), but it's remarkable that BOTH of Dreher’s families eventually told him to fuck off. He is not simply divorcing, which is fairly commonplace, he is abandoning his two younger children to move to Hungary and he has publicly confirmed he is estranged from them.
Being cast out BOTH by your family of origin as well as by your wife *and your own children* does not happen to ONE individual simply because of chance or bad luck. But it *does* happen to someone who is a navel-gazing, insufferable dick to his nearest and dearest. No surprises there.
I am a Godly man, you know.
I tread the path where few would go.
This makes me so much holier than thou,
Don't bother to ask! I'm-a tell you how
I know for sure, so it would seem,
That in my eye there is no beam.
Thus it is okay that I note
That in YOUR eye there is a mote.
I tell freedom is just restraint,
And Hell is not a notion quaint.
I get to treat you with contempt and scorn
Because Scripture promises revenge porn
When Revelations comes to pass
And all whom I hate take it up the ass!
Oh. My. God. That something with as little self-awareness as Dreher can move and function and even communicate, after a fashion, is just amazing. I don’t have time right now to savor that whole essay you linked to but as soon as I can, I will. Thanks and as usual, great job!
I think we all worry about you crawling too far inside your subjects head for these pieces. Be careful out there!
I think Rod came home from his most recent trip and blamed, like always, his lack of performance during the expected
lusty return to the conjugal bed. on jet lag. His wife, as had become her custom on these occasions , patted his expansive forehead, whispered " There, there" and fell into deep deep sleep.
Later in her sleep when she cried out " "Mi Toro! " and " Popa Grande!"
Rod thought about how earlier, when he mentioned how nice the flowerbeds looked and how neatly the grass was cut
his wife said that the new gardener was doing an excellent job. Thorough and attentive.
I tried to read the Dreher post but gave up. How many thousands of words does it take to say, “You can’t go home again, if you’re an insufferable asshole?”
"come to think of it, the sullen silences, slammed doors, and broken crockery I had previous attributed to demonic intervention may also have been warnings (though I certainly wouldn’t rule the Devil out)"
I think it's cute when folx think they are soooooo important that the devil herself would find their lives worthy of messing with.
Gotta be, but at some point, this piece stopped making sense. Maybe it's a reflection on the source material...?
Just checked and holy shit! Speaking of which:
"Budapest — how lovely it sounds when you pronounce the “s” like “sh”!"
Highly amused by that juvenile joke but then that stuff's my jam.
That said, y'all know my theory about Rod's coming divorce: Sex is at most incidental; I'm convinced the wife just had her fill of him and his bullshit.
And speaking of Mayberry: Unlike last year's road trip, this one offer no pleasant surprises other than, I suppose, the Blue Ridge Parkway with its sense of being in no time and, in places, no specific place either; just loose in time and space. But we stopped overnight in Mt. Airy and it was kind of depressing, partly in a failed tourist town sort of way. I mean, like when one saw a tip jar labeled "college fund" one had to wonder whether it was a con.
I confess I read the Dreher piece all the way through. It was exhausting and repetitive, but I couldn’t look away, as it was hypnotically repellent. Made me grateful not having to live inside his head full time.
Holy f***, does he ever shut up??
Nothing to do with Dreher, but in the way that a certain word or phrase can trigger associations in the aging brain, I once owned (and may still own, somewhere) a shoebox of audio cassettes of The Barney Years (the only TRUE incarnation of The Andy Griffith Show). Audio cassettes because that newfangled VHS thing wasn't yet available at my parent's price point. The show works surprisingly well as a radio drama. One thing I always liked was the scoring, which was Hollywood-traditional in that each major character had a theme, and then variations on that theme depending on the character's mood. It's hard today to imagine a simple half-hour sitcom getting the services of a full studio orchestra, but that's how they did it back then.
Today, of course, the show's too cringey to watch (or listen to, if I could find that damn shoebox). At the height of the civil-rights movement, a show with a Southern Sherriff as the hero? In a town where no black faces are seen? C'mon, Andy, what did you and Barney do with all the black folks? (don't answer, I can imagine). And this his how THE WOKENESS destroys the joys of youth.
"[Approximately 800 words later]" - This won the morning.
It is a mystery why Brother Rod's family would resent him for moving them to his podunk hometown because of his daddy issues.
(I don't follow Dreher. Here's my summary.) Looks like he moved "back home" to Louisiana some twelve years ago. It didn't go well, but here he won't say how. His family somehow disappointed him on a cosmic scale, doing terrestrial things. The whole experience led to his recent divorce, and it was bad for their children. The divorce, and moreover his move to Hungary, will mark an end to this time of pain and disillusionment most poignant. As Dreher drifts out of frame, his wisdom seems to grow.
(Close enough for me. I hope it helps.)
It's amazing how bad things happen to the truly rightous: https://www.lawyersgunsmoneyblog.com/2022/10/all-projection-all-the-time-3