Feminists Earn a Dollar for Each Hour of Eternity Squandered

I forget where I saw it -- probably at Happy Acres -- and exactly what it said, but something to the effect that there are people who long for eternity but don't know what to do with themselves on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

This implies that our fitness for eternity, like anything else, is a kind of skill. It is part of what it means to be a spiritual pathlete.

So, while looking back at the Top Ten Ways to Mess Up Your Child, the following caught my eye; it is from a 1917 eighth grade literature reader for California public schools, before John Dewey ruined everybody's lives and ate all our steak:

"Literature prepares [the student] for the hours of leisure now and later." It "makes the pupil a good companion for himself, and removes the appeal of cheap entertainments and unworthy companions."

No cheap entertainment and tawdry companions? That's cultural genocide. Against the left.

So, we need preparation for leisure, or training in Slack. This is something I have always recognized, nor is it something that escaped God's gnosis, otherwise why go to the trouble of spelling it out in Genesis 2, in which we are advised to imitate God by doing nothing for roughly 1/7 of the time.

If we apportion it to the week -- which is my preference -- instead taking it all at once, it translates to 3.4285714 hours of slacktivity per day. That sounds about right. (Note that my blogging is always from the slackspace, for which reason it is utterly without practical purpose.)

Remember, when we are in slack, we are not doing nothing, but rather, doing nothing, and this makes all the difference. A merely lazy man is not a properly enslackened man.

Esolen touches on this on p, 66, noting that there are people who "can be lazy, but they can never be at ease." The laziness is an escape, not an inscape. Thus, they are nagged by the conscience, unless they succeed in numbing it altogether, like Lamar Odom.

Now, the conscience can also be a nag when one is being properly slackful, and that's a problem. It's like a spiritual autoimmune disorder, in which the conscience cannot distinguish between the one and the other -- passive laziness and active slack -- and persecutes both with equal relish. Sometimes you must tell your conscience in no uncertain terms that you are under the Mandate of Heaven, so lay off.

Note that under the prelapsarian conditions of Eden, we presumably lived in primordial slack. I don't want to get into a fruitless he-said, she-said, God-said rehash, but suffice it to say that when the dust settled, man exchanged slack for work. Were our primordial ancestors idiots?

No more idiotic than our current crop of ovary tower feminists. The chapter we're discussing starts out with a crack by Chesterton about women who declared "that they would no longer be dictated to, and promptly became stenographers."

Ho! Reminds me of women who, when they get married, resist the patriarchy by keeping their father's surname.

If we consider the structure of Genesis, we see that Eve is susceptible to the lower promptings symbolized by the serpent, and that she pulls Adam down with her, since his weakness -- like all men -- is for Woman.

This is not to blame Eve per se, since she simply exposes Adam's own weakness. Adam faces in two directions, toward heaven and earth, and he simply defaults to the latter instead of maintaining the proper complementarity.

Using the dodgy technique of inverse analogy, the whole story implies that Woman is a kind of terrestrial axis who mirrors the metacosmic God-axis. And a moment's thought confirms that this must be the case, because there is no doubt whatsoever that when we enter the world as neurologically premature infants, our Whole World revolves around Woman, AKA M(o)ther.

But the role of mother is to eventually hand the child over to Father, i.e., the Heavenly Father (of whom the earthly father is a deputized agent).

Speaking of inverse analogies, consider how Mary is the recapitulation of Eve, only Getting it Right this Time. Whether looked at literally, symbolically, or realsymbolically, Eve, instead of taking her cue from below, takes it from above, which only turns the human cosmos back right-side up.

Once again, Mother is the axis, for without her Yes, we would all still be wandering in the bewilderness of the cosmic No!

Radical feminists proudly recapitulate the fall by screeching NO! at the top of their lungs. Here is how Esolen describes the postmodern version of the fall: "women who are indispensable as culture makers in the home" give this up in favor of becoming "dispensable and interchangeable in the workplace, and indeed subordinate..."

This must be one of the greatest cons in history -- bearing in mind that the Fall itself takes place outside history, or in trans-history. So it's really the same serpent and the same con.

And men are still to blame for allowing it to happen. Adam could always have said NO to Eve and YES to God. But modern man is so severely PCwhipped that he is too weak to resist.

Throughout this silly charade, the feminist will insist that she is acting in the name of "freedom." Which is a laugh. "In other words, you are free if you must show up at a certain place at a certain time, to do a certain well-defined and usually narrow thing for a certain salary, or else be fired." Congratulations, "you are free if you push papers for a boss nine hours a day or scrape the plaque from the teeth of strangers with bad breath" (ibid.).

Feminists love to flaunt their entirely bogus statistic of earning 71 cents on the male dollar, or whatever it is. They are clueless to the fact that for each dollar earned on a trivial job, they are exchanging something absolutely priceless. Speaking from personal vicarious experience, I know my wife would say that no amount of money would be worth what she has received from ten-plus years of motherhood. Even considering the proposition is absurd. She told the serpent to fuck off.

Yes, there is labor. But its end is leisure. We do something in order to celebrate nothing. For what is the point of a celebration? It is not a distraction, but rather, the opposite. I want to say deus-attraction, but that's a stupid way to end a post.