Progressive premise (which we know to be serious, because the word “shit” is thrown in to show just how real we’re preparing to get up in here): “If we actually give a shit about people and their health, then we have to look at what we can do and what we can fix.”
protein wisdom response: “My health is most negatively affected by handing over its control and management to pseudo-intellectual progressive twatwaffles who believe that my free will, repurposed as self-reliance (or a ‘self-discipline framework’), is ‘a fetish’ — a kind of useful fiction marinated in Judeo-Christian godbotherism and packaged as a cultural imperative by slave-owning fascists ungrateful for the Crown of England’s colonial largess — that these materialist despots have determined I need to get over so that they can begin the important work of running my life for me. Though they will, of course, incorporate the notion so that the movement toward a rejection of self-discipline appears to rise spontaneously as part of some amorphous collective paradigm shift (SCIENCE!), if only to fend off the suggestion that they’ve simply replaced my ego with their own and thus are performing perfectly as little isolated pockets of authoritarianism that they will then group into a kind of free-floating hive mind they hope to disguise as a progressive stage in evolutionary history.
“Or, to put it another way, my belief in my free will and in my ability to potentially control my own destiny — that is, the essence of the American Dream — is what fuels my vigor and keeps me healthy and making the kinds of choices about my body that I wish to make. So if you do ‘actually give a shit about people and their health,’ you’re going to have to account for the health of those who don’t want any of your fucking ‘fixing’ in the first place.
“You filthy presumptuous skank.”
I read that piece earlier today.
See, most folks are simply to stupid to be self-disciplined. They cannot be expected to be responsible for … anything. Staying fit is too hard, as is figuring out your own health care, or paying your bills, or buying your own condoms.
Too tough.
You left out “fuck off” before “filthy” Jeff.
Sure, it’s implied, but this in Mandy we’re talking about.
Thats what I love about PW… always sends me to places where even my computer knows its sh*t when the link is clicked and locks up. Freedom… its whats for dinner. At least in most of the posters here homes, anyway.
Personally, I don’t give a shit about people and their health. It’s their business, not mine.
Jeff, you’re going to give Mandy the idea that you don’t like her very much.
Remember, she has a cock bigger than yours.
Is looking like Mrs. Potatohead a sign of good health?
Strong summation, Jeff.
I skimmed the linked article and went through a few of the comments. I should know better, because I really can’t afford the IQ points.
Personally, I don’t give a shit about people and their health. It’s their business, not mine.
It is their business.
Until they qualify for Medicare/medicaid.
As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Jeff, you really should get on board with the pro-health program. If you did, you would exhibit the same obvious health and vigor of your betters:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/majikthise/198400616/
Can’t you just smell the health in that picture?
@Alec, I see, so, Amanda wants government to tell her not to eat pizza, rather than exert some self discipline. Kinda like Stephen King demanding he be forced to pay more taxes, rather than voluntarily sending more to the IRS.
I forgot to mention that health smells remarkably like pee.
That depends. Does “health” smell like PBR swilled with irony, and maybe a hint of clove cigarette?
Can’t you just smell the health in that picture?
I forgot to mention that health smells remarkably like pee.
I’m catching a whiff of patchouli.
*throws up a little bit in mouth
Don’t be making fun of Pabst. That’s what Old Milwaukee is for!
I say again: If you value your health, you ought not worry yourself about mine.
Is looking like Mrs. Potatohead a sign of good health?
From experience I can tell you no, no it is not.
“If we actually give a shit about people…”
The number of people about whom I give a shit is well under a hundred. The number for whom I’m willing to shell out my hard-earned dough? Even smaller.
That just proves that you don’t care about keeping your brother, squid.
Not like Amanda. Amanda cares.
Forward!
Anyone willing to improve the human condition by performing comedy in the form of that hairstyle is clearly living life for her fellows.
“Jeff, you’re going to give Mandy the idea that you don’t like her very much.
Remember, she has a cock bigger than yours.”
Anybody with $40 can buy a cock way bigger than cocks actually get(excepting pathological gigantism). Not that anyone would care unless you kill a burglar by striking him in the back of the neck with it. I guess that might make you a cock ninja or something.
And now, as a defective Christer, I’m going to stop talking about cocks for a while.
That hipster nymph on the right in the link? Yeah, you can’t touch that hot shit.
You don’t even have a chance. Not. A. Chance.
I don’t want anyone but me worrying about my health. I became an adult so the adults in my life would stop bossing me around and trying to make me do things I didn’t want to do. Now? I have nanny scolds who are bitchier than my mom or my grandmothers or my aunts ever were bossing me from afar on the teevee, in the newspaper and on the intertubes and sometimes in real life.
It makes one want to live like Ted Kaczynski, without the crazy and with running water.
[…] Goldstein offers his own rebuttal to Marcotte in how own delightful way (language warning). Like this:LikeBe the first to like this […]
[…] Goldstein offers his own rebuttal to Marcotte in how own delightful way (language […]
You think you’ve got it bad, Leigh? I can’t get donuts or actual Coke from the break room any more, because the firm’s owners are feeling old and fat and figured they’d force rabbit food and Diet Coke on the rest of us, for our own good.
Sure, it’s their fridge, and I shouldn’t complain about stuff they give me for free, but it still chafes when my choices are taken away because somebody else can’t handle the temptation.
In that picture, which one’s Amanda, and which one’s Darcy?
Twatwaffles?
Squid, I’d bring my own donuts and real Coke. I already bring my own coffee, since one of my co-workers thinks we all need to drink her flavored coffee and I hate it. I have a little bottle of instant espresso that I keep locked in my desk for emergencies.
Since almost all our cardiologists and ER docs (and EMTs and ER nurses) smoke, I smoke outside with them. We take turns being lookouts for the rent-a-cops who want to tell us we can’t smoke on the grounds. I love the nurses who sneak their patients out for a smoke on the loading dock. That’s love, right there.
And don’t you live in Minnesota? What kind of self respecting Scandis don’t have pastries in the breakroom?
You can bet your ass that when the monthly staff meeting rolls around, I head down to the bakery to score some really decadent pastries for my team. We look around the room at all the sad pandas with their yogurt and their pineapple chunks, and we try not to look too smug as we stuff giant apple fritters down our gullets.
Owners can bite me. I still kinda miss the cheap-ass donuts they used to have at those meetings, though.
Amanda is the one who just shaved.