There is no death in this post...
Good lord I hate weddings. I know that makes me, at best, a pariah, and at worst, a lily-livered pinko. Well, I guess I am fairly pinko-esque, and I do wear a lot of pink, so I guess that’s not the worst, eh?
But, regardless, I hate weddings.
I even hated mine. I think I did at the time, in case you are wondering; well, the first one anyway. The second one was pretty lightweight (we eloped to this ladies living room in Canoga Park – the most annoying part was waiting for the cousin to arrive from Ventura with the flowers, and picking up the petals from the floor afterwards. Didn’t hate that one, I guess). I think it’s the pomp-and-circumstance I hate, along with Bridezilla’s inevitable appearance.
I am returning from a particularly…piquant… wedding. It was quite inspiring. In fact, I think it has set a new high for my hatred of the ceremony. Where to begin?
Actually, I'm not sure I should begin. It’s kind of mean to bag on the “happiest day” of the bride’s life. And who does it help to point out that the ceremony was misogynistic and homophobic? And that at least one, if not two, of the (interminable) toasts were racist? After all, these are good God-fearing folks, which also means they fear everything that is not white bread and goose-stepping. But I digress.
OK, enough anti-religious ranting. I think I might be leaving people with the wrong idea about my religious beliefs. I believe in God. I just don’t believe in the God that these folks believe in. I thank God that Richard Dawkins exists, although I disagree with him. I believe that God goes to all the churches, and loves little children, and doesn’t care who you sleep with, but cares that the world is better for your having been here.
But my religious beliefs aren’t at issue here, weddings are. So, rather than bag on the amazingly unwelcoming crowd I have just escaped, I'll bag on weddings. Well, more appropriately, wedding lies. Let’s face it, weddings are full of lies. And we all know it. But somehow, everyone gets a pass on telling, or hearing, or repeating, the lies.
Come, brothers and sisters, let us reveal the lies for what they are, and cast light upon the darkness of our souls.
“Of course you will wear that dress again” – seriously, the average bridesmaid dress is uglier than an Ann Coulter essay. And somehow, there is a cosmic law that requires the colors to be horrible, and unflattering for all the poor women trapped in them, suffering as if they had been sentenced to hours in the Iron Maiden. Which is not only a band, but also a medieval torture device. And a bridesmaid dress.
“No, of course I didn’t have strippers at the Bachelor’s party” – ok, guys, give it up. Yes, you did. Well, I didn’t, but I'm weird. All the rest of you did. And she knows it. So why lie? I mean, this one is stupid and avoidable…
“Oh, the band was so terrific at the reception” – no it wasn’t. The bad out-of-sync cover of “We Are Family” stunk. You have heard better garage bands in high school battle of the bands competitions. Really. They are playing your wedding for a reason. It’s ok, they are probably trying hard. But they stink. And not in that “punk is supposed to stink” deconstructionist way. Nope, they just stink. And, no, you can’t dance. The funky chicken was a joke, not a real dance. Trust me.
“I'm not stressed, at all!” – this is a bride lie. It’s the wedding day, supposedly the happiest day of your life, and the photographer forgot to charge the battery for the flash, and neglected to wear deodorant, but did remember to start her day with a little nip of the good stuff. And the wedding coordinator, from the church, is having some sort of odd conniption about the way the ushers are seating guests. And your maid-of-honor won’t stop praying, and the (married) third bridesmaid is making eyes at the groomsman who is escorting her to the altar. So, yes, you are stressed.
Speaking of which … “It’s the happiest day of my life” – no it’s not. Your day sucks. Maybe, just maybe, you are jazzed about marrying the guy. But let’s be serious. It’s possible that the happiest day of your life will be morning you go away on your honeymoon. I mean, you are supposed to have lots of sex on your honeymoon, and everyone expects you to be relaxed and play and get tan, or whatever. Nobody expects that you will check your email periodically, or whatever. Nope, that day makes some sense to be a rock star day. But your wedding day sucks. It’s ok, it sucks for us as well. And the rest of the marriage won’t always be wine and roses.
Which takes us to some of the biggies…
“Really, that ‘wives submit to your husbands’ verse doesn’t mean that!” Yes it does. It’s misogyny. Deal with it. And the rest of the verse is even funnier – check out the Aramaic meanings of the rest of the words. But whatever. Really. At the end of the day, a lot of the Bible is quite horrible. If you are going to read the Bible to people, read it. Understand it, and own that you are telling women that they are less than men. And, no, whatever you do, don’t say something stupid like point out that the verse tells men to love their wives, and how “it just happens naturally for women”. It makes you sound even more like a tool.
Yes, the vow says “hold yourself faithful”. And yes, that means what it says. And yes, you are looking at the best man, or bridesmaid, now. And when you are traveling, the vow still holds. Or, well, it’s supposed to. So I hear.
And my personal favorite lie … “’til Death do us part” – Good morning, you are probably going to get divorced. Unless you are lucky, and she doesn’t care that you are a tool, who thinks he knows too much, and is somehow strangely slippery.
Oh, wait, that’s me.
Have a nice taxi ride, I'm going to go see if the wedding cake is gluten free…
But, regardless, I hate weddings.
I even hated mine. I think I did at the time, in case you are wondering; well, the first one anyway. The second one was pretty lightweight (we eloped to this ladies living room in Canoga Park – the most annoying part was waiting for the cousin to arrive from Ventura with the flowers, and picking up the petals from the floor afterwards. Didn’t hate that one, I guess). I think it’s the pomp-and-circumstance I hate, along with Bridezilla’s inevitable appearance.
I am returning from a particularly…piquant… wedding. It was quite inspiring. In fact, I think it has set a new high for my hatred of the ceremony. Where to begin?
Dear god,
Don’t know if you noticed,
But your name is on a lot of quotes in this book.
Us crazy humans wrote it, you should take a look…
--XTC
Actually, I'm not sure I should begin. It’s kind of mean to bag on the “happiest day” of the bride’s life. And who does it help to point out that the ceremony was misogynistic and homophobic? And that at least one, if not two, of the (interminable) toasts were racist? After all, these are good God-fearing folks, which also means they fear everything that is not white bread and goose-stepping. But I digress.
White trash picking up Nazi flags
While you was gone, there was war
This is the West, get used to it
They put a swastika over the door
Under the God
Under the God
One step over the red line
Under the God
Under the God
Ten steps into the crazy crazy
Washington heads in the toilet bowl
Don't see supremacist hate
Right wing dicks in their boiler suits
Picking out who to annihilate
--Tin Machine
OK, enough anti-religious ranting. I think I might be leaving people with the wrong idea about my religious beliefs. I believe in God. I just don’t believe in the God that these folks believe in. I thank God that Richard Dawkins exists, although I disagree with him. I believe that God goes to all the churches, and loves little children, and doesn’t care who you sleep with, but cares that the world is better for your having been here.
But my religious beliefs aren’t at issue here, weddings are. So, rather than bag on the amazingly unwelcoming crowd I have just escaped, I'll bag on weddings. Well, more appropriately, wedding lies. Let’s face it, weddings are full of lies. And we all know it. But somehow, everyone gets a pass on telling, or hearing, or repeating, the lies.
Come, brothers and sisters, let us reveal the lies for what they are, and cast light upon the darkness of our souls.
“Of course you will wear that dress again” – seriously, the average bridesmaid dress is uglier than an Ann Coulter essay. And somehow, there is a cosmic law that requires the colors to be horrible, and unflattering for all the poor women trapped in them, suffering as if they had been sentenced to hours in the Iron Maiden. Which is not only a band, but also a medieval torture device. And a bridesmaid dress.
“No, of course I didn’t have strippers at the Bachelor’s party” – ok, guys, give it up. Yes, you did. Well, I didn’t, but I'm weird. All the rest of you did. And she knows it. So why lie? I mean, this one is stupid and avoidable…
“Oh, the band was so terrific at the reception” – no it wasn’t. The bad out-of-sync cover of “We Are Family” stunk. You have heard better garage bands in high school battle of the bands competitions. Really. They are playing your wedding for a reason. It’s ok, they are probably trying hard. But they stink. And not in that “punk is supposed to stink” deconstructionist way. Nope, they just stink. And, no, you can’t dance. The funky chicken was a joke, not a real dance. Trust me.
“I'm not stressed, at all!” – this is a bride lie. It’s the wedding day, supposedly the happiest day of your life, and the photographer forgot to charge the battery for the flash, and neglected to wear deodorant, but did remember to start her day with a little nip of the good stuff. And the wedding coordinator, from the church, is having some sort of odd conniption about the way the ushers are seating guests. And your maid-of-honor won’t stop praying, and the (married) third bridesmaid is making eyes at the groomsman who is escorting her to the altar. So, yes, you are stressed.
Speaking of which … “It’s the happiest day of my life” – no it’s not. Your day sucks. Maybe, just maybe, you are jazzed about marrying the guy. But let’s be serious. It’s possible that the happiest day of your life will be morning you go away on your honeymoon. I mean, you are supposed to have lots of sex on your honeymoon, and everyone expects you to be relaxed and play and get tan, or whatever. Nobody expects that you will check your email periodically, or whatever. Nope, that day makes some sense to be a rock star day. But your wedding day sucks. It’s ok, it sucks for us as well. And the rest of the marriage won’t always be wine and roses.
Which takes us to some of the biggies…
“Really, that ‘wives submit to your husbands’ verse doesn’t mean that!” Yes it does. It’s misogyny. Deal with it. And the rest of the verse is even funnier – check out the Aramaic meanings of the rest of the words. But whatever. Really. At the end of the day, a lot of the Bible is quite horrible. If you are going to read the Bible to people, read it. Understand it, and own that you are telling women that they are less than men. And, no, whatever you do, don’t say something stupid like point out that the verse tells men to love their wives, and how “it just happens naturally for women”. It makes you sound even more like a tool.
Yes, the vow says “hold yourself faithful”. And yes, that means what it says. And yes, you are looking at the best man, or bridesmaid, now. And when you are traveling, the vow still holds. Or, well, it’s supposed to. So I hear.
And my personal favorite lie … “’til Death do us part” – Good morning, you are probably going to get divorced. Unless you are lucky, and she doesn’t care that you are a tool, who thinks he knows too much, and is somehow strangely slippery.
Oh, wait, that’s me.
Have a nice taxi ride, I'm going to go see if the wedding cake is gluten free…
posted by Douglas at
6:11 PM
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