NON SEQUITUR – Page 2

Some thinky thoughts on Duck Dynasty

[Editor’s note: Not a book post]

I’ve been a Duck Dynasty fan since the first season, when I would sing the show’s praises to anyone within earshot and foist recorded episodes onto unsuspecting visitors. And while my friends and family feigned a begrudging tolerance for the show — which is too improvised to be scripted and too staged to be reality — I could tell that they weren’t sold, not like I was. “It’s going to be big,” I’d mutter to myself as they shrugged off my over-eager descriptions of Si’s wisdom, or Duck Commander workroom tomfoolery. “Just you wait.”

And I was right. Having recently finished its fourth season, Duck Dynasty is huge. Eleven million viewers huge. Extremely comprehensive Walmart partnership huge. For the same intangible reasons that reality-show predecessors like Jersey Shore and Here Comes Honey Boo Boo captured a certain [ratings-boosting] je ne sais quoi, DD has easily become one of the most popular shows in the country. Which makes it super awkward for A&E that cast member/patriarch Phil Robertson – a crucial DD dispenser of old-timer Louisiana wisdom – made a series of offensive comments in an interview with GQ this week. The crucial excerpts are as such:

“‘Start with homosexual behavior and just morph out from there. Bestiality, sleeping around with this woman and that woman and that woman and those men.’ [Paraphrasing Corinthians] ‘Don’t be deceived. Neither the adulterers, the idolaters, the male prostitutes, the homosexual offenders, the greedy, the drunkards, the slanderers, the swindlers—they won’t inherit the kingdom of God. Don’t deceive yourself. It’s not right.’”
… “It seems like, to me, a vagina—as a man—would be more desirable than a man’s anus. That’s just me. I’m just thinking: There’s more there! She’s got more to offer. I mean, come on, dudes! You know what I’m saying? But hey, sin: It’s not logical, my man. It’s just not logical.”
… ”We never, ever judge someone on who’s going to heaven, hell. That’s the Almighty’s job. We just love ‘em, give ‘em the good news about Jesus—whether they’re homosexuals, drunks, terrorists. We let God sort ‘em out later, you see what I’m saying?”

Understandably, many people were offended. Many. A&E on Wednesday suspended Phil from the show “indefinitely,” which is a natural knee-jerk reaction, but also kind of like suspending Santa from the North Pole. Whether or not Phil commands the majority of screen time on DD, he is an important element of the family dynamic that makes the show so popular (I don’t buy into arguments that the aforementioned je ne sais quoi is the Robertsons’ read-between-the-lines Christian evangelism). Suspending Phil is like Jersey Shore suspending Snooki, or Honey Boo Boo exiling Mama June. However valid the reasoning, it don’t make no sense.

So are we living in a literary dystopia?

To the chagrin of many (and the surprise of few) it turns out that the National Security Agency is keeping an eye on us. If you’ve been sending tongue-in-cheek missives to your UK friends about “blowing up all of the buses because ughhh,” now might be the time to stop.

With this week’s revelations—brought to you by patriot/traitor/poor man’s Alexander Skarsgard Edward Snowden—Americans are understandably displeased. And, it would seem, anxious: Sales of George Orwell’s 1984 have spiked on Amazon.

But are we really so close to the worlds envisioned by authors like Orwell, Aldous Huxley and Margaret Atwood? Let’s take a look.

A Lean In addendum, or why partnering with Cosmo is bullshit

A few weeks ago, I reviewed Sheryl Sandberg’s lady-empowerment book, Lean In. My reaction to the book was cautiously pro—I feel Sandberg has some great points about conducting oneself in the workplace and, for females in particular, not getting caught up in the kind of insecurity that might prevent one from securing a promotion or taking on a new project.

My objections, however minimal, were not to Sandberg’s status as a gainfully employed and happily married wealthy person, someone with the resources and support system to truly balance work and family. (For the record, I find this criticism—that Sandberg is only speaking to fellow rich people—off-base, and think people who latch onto it are missing the point. Sure, many of the things Sandberg has done personally to achieve a work/life balance are feasible because of her perch atop Facebook, but just as many of her overarching themes apply to women of myriad financial means. To disqualify a successful person from making suggestions to those of lesser means is senselessly limiting, especially as people like Sandberg are in a unique position to effect real change.)

I’ve also found myself ambivalent about the revelation this week that a Sandberg PR person laid into former Facebook employee Katherine Losse for writing a tepid review of Lean In. Yes, using the infamous “special place in hell” quote on someone who was simply less than thrilled with your boss’ book is a dickish move, but if we’re really going to have a conversation about feminism and gender equality—the conversation that Sandberg, whether you agree with her approach or not, is attempting to initiate—it serves no one for us to get sidetracked by Internet-fueled cat fights.

But I do have a sizable objection to one facet of the Lean In roll-out, which in addition to Sandberg’s book includes a website, Facebook page (natch), media partnerships and about a zillion public appearances. My objection is this: In a society struggling to move past judgments of females based on their appearance or relationship to men, I find it more than a little hypocritical to peddle your feminist message through Cosmopolitan magazine.

Beers, books and a dramatic reading of Fifty Shades of Grey

Much to my delight, Saturday’s inaugural Book Swap was a resounding (or at least moderate, considering the weather) success, managing to raise a whopping (and very numerically appealing) $123 for Literacy for Incarcerated Teens.

There was no official count—I was far too busy trying out cocktails—but I’d guesstimate that participants had a solid 200+ books to choose from (of which 75+ might have been the byproduct of my coffee-fueled housecleaning, but that is neither here nor there). Most importantly, one daring soul brought an actual paperback version of Fifty Shades of Grey—compete with 20% off Target sticker, if memory serves—and so after a few alcoholic beverages, Book Swap may have devolved into a low-key dramatic reading of some of the book’s [many, many] ridiculous moments.

If you missed out on this Swap, worry not—there will be a Part Deux sometime this spring. In the meantime, here are some photos, to prove I didn’t “host” a “book swap” with “my friends” who are actually figments of a reality-television-addled imagination.

Come one, come all! To the inaugural Sorry Television Book Swap

Advance apologies for the fact that I will almost definitely not finish any books this week. My work schedule has suddenly shifted so that I am now required to wake up at the ass-crack of 7 a.m. for the foreseeable future and my mental state is suffering the consequences: Last night’s attempts to power through the better part of a paperback ended with me snoring into my couch cushions and drooling on my cat.

[Editor’s note: I realize that for other people, most people even, a 7 a.m. wake-up call is completely normal. Guys, you haven’t lived until you’ve worked a 1 p.m. to 9 p.m. schedule.]

But worry not, avid reader: I have a consolation prize*! (*for people in the greater Brooklyn/New York City metropolitan area). This Saturday marks the first-ever Sorry Television Book Swap, a ~~swanky~~ ~~classy~~ sufficiently adult gathering of local readers with a lot of extra books and a penchant for 3 p.m. Bloody Marys.

Here’s how it works:
(non-New Yorkers, you can stop paying attention now, unless you want to experience extreme envy)

At 2:30 p.m. this Saturday, (February 23) gather up as many unwanted books as you can carry, and bring them over to the Pinebox Rock Shop at 12 Grattan St., just off the Morgan L train.

Cost of entry to STBS is $5, moneys that will be donated to Literacy for Incarcerated Teens, a NYC-based nonprofit that distributes books to, obvi, incarcerated teens. Outside of this paltry admission fee (and the price of the aforementioned Bloody Marys), STBS is a fairly low-cost affair. For every book you bring to Book Swap, you’ll get a ticket. For every ticket you have, you can snag a new book (Tickets will also be available for $1 each, for those of you with an admirably manageable addiction to book ownership). As if that weren’t motivation enough, I’ll also be raffling off some prizes (like I bought legit raffle tickets and everything). Good times will be had by all.

Since God hates me for not believing in Him, it’s slated to rain and/or snow this Saturday, but I am putting my faith in hardy New Yorkers to don their galoshes and schlep out to Brooklyn anyway, if only because there’s no better way to spend a crappy winter afternoon than drinking alcohol among friends. I am also willing to beg and/or plead (personalized phone calls available!) for attendance, since my third-greatest fear (after 1) space and 2) waking up 8 months pregnant) is hosting a party to which no one shows up. Especially in this case, since I’d have to drag home all of my own already-read books.

So tell yo friends, and your mom, and your mom’s friends. Throw those old Twilight paperbacks in a garbage bag and come on by.