Obviously a troll post, but it actually has a valid point for some:

“Why do Christian women choose to be mistresses rather than to allow polygamy?”

Now, importantly:

1. Not all Western women are Christian, and not all Christian women are Western.

2. Laws about polyamory and marriage were overwhelmingly passed by men, not women.

3. In many African countries that are predominantly Christian, polygamy is legal, and practiced by Christians. Monogamy is not a Christian thing; it’s a Western thing.

4. “Love,” as we understand it in its modern form of romantic partnership, is a conceit that started circa 1500. Prior to that (and even somewhat after) the understanding was generally that marriages were arranged for long-term dynastic goals, not for sexual or romantic fulfillment.

All that said, the poster has a valid point: for those women specifically looking to be protected and kept by a man, obviously, some sort of second wife status guarantees more than being a mistress.

Of course, none of this addresses that increasingly it is the women who do not want to be tied down, and do not require any compensation from the man. I recall the reactions when a Ph.D student in the lab next door was dating a married man: “I know he has a ring, but I don’t care about that,” she said to a group of fellow students. “I just want to have some fun.” Some were scandalized, but others admired her “strength” and ability to not give a damn about conventional morality. She wasn’t getting any money out of it (unless you count free dinners); she was getting sex and short-term companionship. That was all she was after. The utter ruin of the future of the marriage was categorically not her concern. She wasn’t there to cherish the guy and share his dreams; she was there to use him as a sex toy. He was either too dumb or too flattered by her attentions to see it. The real loser is, presumably, the wife of the cheating man, if she actually needed to depend on him for food/shelter/protection.

So really, what turning mistresses into second wives would protect is first wives who don’t have the economic backing to be independent agents. Also, I suppose it would protect some men from their own stupidity, to a degree: now there’s no illusion that they’re “getting away” with something; they’ve just tacked on a very expensive habit that is formalized in law. Social theorists make noises about “beta” men being protected by the institution of marriage, but accepting this outlook as valid for the sake of argument, I suppose the ritualization and institutionalization of “second wives” protects “beta” women as well.

Justin Moss, a family law solicitor at Wilsons, a firm in Salisbury, said: “Rich men shouldn’t get married, frankly. It’s that simple. It’s not sensible for anyone, man or woman, to marry anybody financially weaker than they are.”

In these times, that which is not right feels familiar.

Then, there are my previous attempts to take something to another level. All met with rejection. It’s fine. I understand rejection now. The problem is how that connection goes afterwards. I understand that I probably screwed up me and S’s friendship; chances are it will never get to that level ever again. I felt like I got too greedy. We were close. We spent a good amount of time together. We had good heart to heart talks. I lend my ear when she was in a dilemma. I feel like the closer I want to be with someone, the further I start to push them away. We still haven’t spoken and I feel like it will be like that for a long time.

I feel like I’m only successful when I start to ignore those things. All those past relationships, they came to me. They all started with the girl messaging and initiating things. I wanted to at least try to break that way of thinking and try to initiate and get things on my own. And so far, all those times have failed.

Another major disadvantage I have is that I’m shy. Especially to girls I’ve never met or known prior. And living in the city, I feel it’s much more difficult to even initiate a good conversation with a girl. That I might be considered a freak if I just wanted to talk to them. That I’m considered a perv if I even compliment them. I know that I shouldn’t be thinking that way, but the more I read these stories online from women who say how annoyed they are with men trying to pick them up in public, the more and more discouraged I get. If even attractive guys get written off, what makes me think I would have a chance?

- Laytexduckie

It’s just that thing where you have to collect 100 nos. Sounds horribly coarse and vulgar, and not helpful, but the main idea really is that you must confront your fears. (I have never gotten 100 nos romantically but I have done so for marketing/sales, and it is a huge personal development boost. I do not recommend it for everyone, but I most emphatically recommend it for people who fear awkwardness/rejection/the judgment of others. You must learn to not give a damn, a la Rhett Butler.)

Look at it this way – if you let that fear control you, then you are shortchanging both yourself AND whoever you are with. How can you say with total certainty that they are the one you would choose if you had no fear whatsoever of failure and rejection? And if they are not, how can you justify spending both of your lives together?

PS: From what I’ve seen, physical attractiveness isn’t even like 50% of the game. It’s maybe like 10-20%. It’s the things that come WITH attractiveness that actually help people – confidence, happiness, clarity, positive energy. This is true for women as well as men. Even the most attractive girl will turn off over 90% of suitors if she’s psycho.

Do NOT worry about your physical attractiveness. We’ve all seen ugly girls or guys with stunning partners. It can happen for you too.

Romney is the one speaking most frankly about privilege in this election, and we hate him for it.

Not because we agree with him, actually – because it burns us to think that we were born ahead of 90% of the world if we were born American, and yet we have not managed to achieve our dreams.

I do agree that it’s ludicrous for a politician to give up on nearly half of his constituency, but I don’t think that’s actually what took place. The context of his comments are a closed-door meeting with a dozen wealthy industry leaders he was cozying up to. No doubt he sought to ingratiate himself by approximating their mindset, which produced this remark.

To give you some background: one of the most important business maxims is “only help those who help themselves.” It is the only rational way to do business, because there are any number of those only half-heartedly attempting to do business. They will dissipate and bog down a businessman’s attempts to climb his/her way up to the top, and so, they are to be avoided. This is not a dismissal of them as people, necessarily, but as business partners.

To be a successful businessman you must remove nearly all doubt from your mind, and you must compartmentalize charity and blame. Only by doing this can you continually give 100% to your business. Unfortunately the process leaves you less sympathetic to those who haven’t made it, giving some a tendency to assume that those who didn’t make it simply weren’t willing to make the sacrifices it took to succeed. But that mindset, as with everything else in business, is a tradeoff. It’s great for clawing your way up. It’s less great for projecting the image of a benevolent statesman. Businessmen are concerned entirely with the former and not at all with the latter.

It’s ironic, because in a way, what the media has said would happen happened: Romney’s business instincts, his ability to identify with businessmen, kicked in in a way that alienated him from everyone else.

Warships were made to bombard
Nicki Minaj wears a leotard
an accent straight from Scotland Yard
and a mouth begging for a red card

A song for this day and Age, by Cage the Elephant:

I was walking down the street
When out the corner of my eye,
I saw a pretty little thing approaching me.
She said I never seen a man,
Who looks so all alone,
Could you use a little company?
If you could pay the right price,
Your evening will be nice,
Or you can go and send me on my way,
I said you’re such a sweet young thing,
Why’d you do this to yourself?
She looked at me and this is what she said.

Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked,
Money don’t grow on trees,
I got bills to pay,
I got mouths to feed,
There ain’t nothing in this world for free.
I know I can’t slow down,
I can’t hold back
Though you know I wish I could,
Oh no there ain’t no rest for the wicked,
Until we close our eyes for good.

Not even 15 minutes later,
I’m still walking down the street,
When I saw the shadow of a man creep out of sight,
And then he swept up from behind,
He put a gun up to my head;
He made it clear he wasn’t looking for a fight.
He said, give me all you’ve got,
I want your money not your life,
If you try to make a move I won’t think twice,
I told him you can have my cash,
But first you know I’ve got to ask,
What made you want to live this kind of life?

He said there ain’t no rest for the wicked,
Money don’t grow on trees,
I got bills to pay
I got mouths to feed
Ain’t nothing in this world for free.
I know I can’t slow down,
I can’t hold back
Though you know I wish I could.
Oh no there ain’t no rest for the wicked,
Until we close our eyes for good.

Now a couple hours past,
And I was sitting in my house,
The day was winding down and coming to an end,
So I turned on the TV,
And flipped it over to the news,
And what I saw I almost couldn’t comprehend,
I saw a preacher man in cuffs
He taken money from the church,
He stuffed his bank account with righteous dollar bills
But even still I can’t say much
Because I know we’re all the same,
Oh yes we all seek out to satisfy those thrills.

You know there ain’t no rest for the wicked,
Money don’t grow on trees,
We got bills to pay
We got mouths to feed
Ain’t nothing in this world for free.
Oh no
We can’t slow down,
We can’t hold back
Though you know we wish we could.
You know there ain’t no rest for the wicked,
Until we close our eyes for good.

The amusingly-named Captain Capitalism has an entry in which he argues that for most Americans, saving for retirement is impossible before 60.

But, when they do hit the labor force, it won’t be at a job they’re capable of. It will be something mundane that they could have done in high school. Thus why underemployment rates are roughly 50% for the average 25 year old.

The problem is compounded because not only are the youth working jobs they could have done in high school (and at a commensurate wage), they have student debts they have to pay off. The next decade they muddle through lousy jobs with no hope for advancement or challenge due to the managerial ineptitude of the previous generations, finally paying off their student debts at the age of 35.

35, however, is pretty late in the game to “finally” be “starting a life.” And by “starting a life” I mean starting families and getting a house . . .

Whatever the case, you’re pushing 60 by the time these liabilities are paid off.

“60″ did you say?

Yes, 60 and you haven’t even started saving for retirement. And I am not blaming you. You never had the money to save for retirement. It took 25 years to get you educated to the point the Credentialism-Infected American labor market would even entertain hiring you. And another 10-20 years before they’d ever give you a decent wage or consider giving you a job with responsibility. This is of course requiring you to take “CPE” every 6 months while offering nothing in terms of employment security, job stability (ie-not changing your job duties every 3 months) let alone, sanity in your job.

Regardless, 60 years old is too late to save for retirement. Despite government promises of retirement at the age of 65, mathematically you are going to have to work till you’re dead.

Of course, our generation probably never believed at all in government promises of assistance with retirement, but it’s still a sobering thing to think about.

It is the duty of the intellectuals to commit suicide as a class.
- Che Guevara

Is this anti-intellectual? Not precisely.

If intellectuals exist as a cohesive class – if there is a stratum of society dedicated to thinking, and thinking well – it doesn’t take much from there to realize, in the context of experts and society, that this means there is a class dedicated to thinking for others.

What is the duty of intellectuals? Do they not have a duty to free thought, to ensuring that everyone gets to think for themselves?

So we arrive at a paradox: to be useful to society, intellectuals have to be recognized as thinking better than others, as having the technical expertise and therefore the right to think on behalf of others. But intellectuals also have the moral obligation to not permit that people be forced into a zombie-like existence where others do their thinking for them.

Che’s solution, essentially, is that the intellectuals destroy their identity as a class.

Taylor Swift’s new single is about a cancer victim she befriended, a child who died and in whose honor she decided to write a song to donate to charity.

‘Ronan’ is kind of sloppy, but on the other hand, that gives it a fragile authenticity.

I remember your bare feet down the hallway
I remember your little laugh
Race cars on the kitchen floor
Plastic dinosaurs, I love you to the moon and back

I remember your blue eyes looking into mine like we had our own secret club
I remember you dancing before bed time then jumping on me waking me up
I can still feel you hold my hand
Little man, from even that moment I knew
You fought it hard like an army guy
Remember I leaned in and whispered to you

Both lyrically and musically, it starts off slow and simple, even awkward. The extreme simplicity of the terms echoes the simple thoughts of the child.

Come on baby with me
We’re gonna fly away from here
You were my best four years

I remember the drive home when the blind hope
Turned to crying and screaming, “Why?”
Flowers piled up in the worst way
No one knows what to say about a beautiful boy who died

This is, rightly, transformative. The lyrics shift to the passage of time, to the contrast of now to then, and the music shifts as well. Regarding the subject’s most sacred space, the open secret of death, the song returns a frank admission that there really is nothing good to say.

And it’s about to be Halloween
You could be anything you wanted if you were still here
I remember the last day when I kissed your face
I whispered in your ear

Come on baby with me
We’re gonna fly away from here
Out of this curtained room in this hospital
We’ll just disappear
Come on baby with me
We’re gonna fly away from here
You were my best four years

What if I’m standing in your closet trying to talk to you?
What if I kept the hand me downs you won’t grow into?
And what if I really thought some miracle would see us through?
But what if the miracle was even getting one moment with you

The theme of lost potential is built and expanded upon – again, very simply, very basically, but the subject matter is such that it’s enough.

Come on baby with me
We’re gonna fly away from here
Come on baby with me
We’re gonna fly away from here
You were my best four years

I remember your bare feet down the hallway
I love you to the moon and back

It doesn’t really end with some grand resolution, because life doesn’t end with one. People are left with their memories and thoughts of the deceased.

Ronan is imperfect, but its imperfection is strictly a technical one. On the whole – on the matter of artistic vision and license, on the matter of taste – Taylor Swift has not made any misjudgments.