Darling irony, I am so sorry.
I am so sorry I brought you into this situation. I didn't understand it was just another chance for people to ignore you or worse, kick you around again. When I introduced you to this mess, I thought we were among friends who would see you and chuckle lovingly. I thought they would bring their own small imps, playmates for you in the comments. I didn't think they could overlook you, knock you down and trample you with their big heavy ideas.
You've had a rough time of it, and I put you in harm's way once again. I'm so sorry. I didn't understand what you face out there in the world. I am even more sorry that I will probably do it again. I will forget and I will do it again. I will think that I am holding you up, to shine your light on appreciative faces. But I will be wrong and you, sweet irony, will suffer for it.
If there is any consolation for you in all this, please know that the people who see you love you very much. They want you around. They know what you add to our conversations and games. They know you are the secret to our saying hard things and communicating several layers of thought at once. When they see you, they know they are among likeminded friends. You beckon to us, telling us it is OK to joke about hard things, giving us a way to say even true sad things. Sparkly little irony, I will dust you off and kiss you, and I will put you back out into the world. I am sorry, seeing what you go through. But I have to. Your light calls my friends to me and shows me who they are.
You've had a rough time of it, and I put you in harm's way once again. I'm so sorry. I didn't understand what you face out there in the world. I am even more sorry that I will probably do it again. I will forget and I will do it again. I will think that I am holding you up, to shine your light on appreciative faces. But I will be wrong and you, sweet irony, will suffer for it.
If there is any consolation for you in all this, please know that the people who see you love you very much. They want you around. They know what you add to our conversations and games. They know you are the secret to our saying hard things and communicating several layers of thought at once. When they see you, they know they are among likeminded friends. You beckon to us, telling us it is OK to joke about hard things, giving us a way to say even true sad things. Sparkly little irony, I will dust you off and kiss you, and I will put you back out into the world. I am sorry, seeing what you go through. But I have to. Your light calls my friends to me and shows me who they are.
posted by Megan at 4:23 PM
10 Comments:
I'm sorry -- I thought you were another Megan (McCardle, Jane Galt, of Asymetrical Information).
Still, how you feel about Chinese guys, or Indian guys (from India)?
There are a LOT more guys there, than women (thanks to ultrasound and sex-based abortions).
I found a wife in Slovakia, you could quite likely find a great husband who wants kids is China.
I never meant to be unfair -- brutally honest, maybe.
"Still, how you feel about Chinese guys, or Indian guys (from India)?
There are a LOT more guys there, than women (thanks to ultrasound and sex-based abortions)."
Megan is all about the Asian guys, but I don't think China's one child policy has been in effect long enough (it was enacted in 1979) to produce that many extra single men in Megan's target age range, unless she wants a guy 5-10 years younger than her.
You spilled your irony in my sarcasm.
So why do you treat Irony with such tenderness but poor little Pun just gets kicked around?
Because irony adds meaning that contributes to conversation and puns add meaning that distract from the conversation.
"Oh, irony! Oh no, we don't get that here. See, people ski topless here while smoking dope, so irony's not really a high priority. We haven't had any irony here since about '83, when I was the only practitioner of it. And I stopped because I was tired of being stared at."
C.D. Bales (Steve Martin)
Roxanne
Hello, Megan.
Stop making excuses for telling dates about your prenatal vitamin routine and your preference for four-doors. Clearly you are doing everythign wrong, just admit it and change. Go to China or India where the language barrier may help you avoid freaking out potential fathers, uh, I mean, dates. Jeez.
WHY? Why, cruel world and ignorant self? Why, did I bring up my nephews and scare off that nice fertile guy? Why?
Megan's 8:30 AM comment is one of those nice take-aways I'm going to find very useful in later life. I've never had my inchoate resentment of the pun so well expressed.
Irony is sort of like being drunk, in that you can say stuff you kinda-sorta-halfway mean while disavowing it later. But ironing irony flat, depriving life of all its multiple layers of meaning and motivation, is a terrible thing. Even worse than being a teetotaler.
As usual, I find myself restating what Megan already said, except worse. A common problem around here.
C'mon, Megan, admit it. You're just letting the little guy get beat up for laughs. I mean, without him, there's no way you'd get me to go from teary-eyed to laughing loud enough to draw stares in successive posts.
Post a Comment
<< Home