My friend Charlie Martin shared this link on facebook, (the link is not facebook) as he often does with cool/old images.
I clicked through both because I also like cool/old images, and because I was waiting for dinner to finish cooking, and didn’t want to start something like an article in the fifteen minutes I had.
And then I hit the comments. Yeah, I know, never hit the comments.
I want to talk in this post (there’s another one about this pictures tomorrow) about how ridiculous the commenters striking blows for equality or race equality or whatever the hell they thought they were doing were.
Sure, I know, there was a ton more inequality in the early 20th century (which btw, should tell you how much we actually need the government to intervene to create “equality.” The equalization has been through prosperity which mostly happens when the government leaves people alone) because the industrial revolution was just gathering steam around the world, and therefore prosperity wasn’t as widespread.
I.e. people lived better than their ancestors, just not nearly as well as us. And the people who were at the forefront of investing/taking risks, were often obscenely rich by the standards of their time. Just keep in mind that all their wealth couldn’t buy them the air conditioning, entertainment or modern medicine available to our “poor” today.
Some of the people in these pictures were singled out as “victims” by the Marxists in the comments, which of course know a lot of things that just ain’t so, and are terribly proud of themselves for parroting them.
One of the pictures for instance is of an Irish woman identified as “mother of seven” knotting fringe for shawls. There are holes in her dress, so of course, I expected the Marxists to strike at that. They sort of did, but just by saying she should repair her own dress. You know, people should be required to run SOMETHING even if just a lemonade stand for profit before the age of 18. Understanding that profit doesn’t come from mending your own dress in your scant time might be salutary.
But I’d forgotten — silly me — that in the course of my adult lifetime, the Marxists have moved on from making every “working class” person a victim to carving victims out of various genders and races.
For instance, it’s a terrible thing that the woman is only identified as “Mother of Seven” and not by name.
Because, you know, these many years later, knowing her name is really important. And not that she was a stranger to the photographer, and that her labor was ennobled by her working for her seven children. I.e. if you asked her, she’d likely rather — proudly — be known as mother of seven (by which I presume they meant seven living children, which spoke to both her genes and her abilities as a housewife and mother) than by her name, which again would mean bloody nothing to any of us.
Note that the idiots don’t know this is how paintings were titled. I.e. unless they were portraits of someone known to the painter and probably paying for the portrait, they got called either after the myth they represented or by the generic description of the subject. “Poor man” “beggars at the door of the church” is in line with “mother of seven.”
Also they don’t understand how valued motherhood was. Also, oh, what the heck. To them the long-dead woman should be retroactively empowered by us demanding that she have her name. Because they’re provincial, blinkered and stupid, and their view of the world was shaped by being taught a poisonous philosophy dreamed up by an envious little man who never worked a day in his life.
Then there was the picture of the photographer’s wife on a camel. The photographer named the picture “Else on Camel.” The outraged armies of outrageousness were furious because he didn’t name the camel drivers (and why not the camels, too. Does PETA know of your slight?) in the picture.
And someone else, superciliously came and explained it was okay because in the early twentieth century all these people were considered little more than savages.
Yeah. They were. That’s because they came from countries where the culture made them into little more (and sometimes little less) than savages. Many of those countries are still populated by savages, by any objective, civilized standard.
The sad part is that our country too is filled with educated savages, who think that because people can tan, or have fiddly bits of the inny variety they should be given all deference, even if there’s objectively no reason for it.
We’ve allowed our children to be educated by loons who think that tribalism (that old foe of mankind) is a good thing, and that what we need is more victim tribes until everyone is — by the magic of intersectionalism — compensated to the exact degree that people who looked vaguely like them were once victimized.
Let’s leave aside the fact that the subject of the picture is the photographer’s wife, and that adding the eight or nine names to it would make the art piece (which color photographs very much were. Rare too.) less valuable and more confusing to refer to/sell.
What these ridiculous provincials don’t realize is that the camel drovers might not have wanted to give their names to complete strangers. Or that they wouldn’t feel slighted by their name not being in the pictures. Why should they? Do these idiots think the camel drovers logged onto facebook later and were pissed at not being tagged?
The chances of them ever seeing that photograph was nil, and burdening the picture with a never-ending name would only hurt it/its popularity.
But more importantly, at the base of it, these insane idiots think that these drovers and their descendants need their exceedingly woke selves to come and de-victimize them or elevate them, or something.
Their assumption of superiority and their cultural-colonist attitude is so complete they don’t realize that the Arabs of the time — looked down onto or not by the Europeans — considered themselves immensely superior to the Europeans. In fact, so did every little tribe in Africa. The Maasai (admittedly not a a little tribe) word for “European” is “Confines their farts with clothes.” (Or at least one of the words. I came across it in an article written by a Maasai. Entirely possible he was pulling our legs. Because people that the left feels they need to white-knight for often do pull the legs of idiot Europeans.)
I grew up in Portugal when the rest o Europe considered it somewhat of a third world hellhole (it wasn’t, but it wasn’t very far off) and none of us felt beholden of the rest of Europe’s opinion of us. In fact, most Portuguese felt themselves immensely superior. For reasons. (Mostly cultural reasons: the language, the poetry, the history.) In fact “For Englishman to see” was the equivalent of our “Good enough for government work” and referenced the fact Englishmen (which was sort of shorthand for all tourists) were gullible and should be taken advantage of.
And then — THEN — there was the picture of the little girl with 20 dolls or something like that. It’s a portrait. Probably done of the daughter of the photographer’s friend. As the other photos, they showcase the thing the person being portrayed is proud of.
Wouldn’t you know it? Some woke idiot took exception to the little girl having so many dolls when other people were poor. And some other suffering from Marxist Tourette’s said “no little girl needs that many dolls.”
This is why my desk has head-shaped dents. Does any little girl need 20 dolls? Depends on the little girl, doesn’t it?
I just did a headcount, and I think the most I ever had were 12, but then I spent more time reading than playing with dolls. (Not that I didn’t play with dolls.)
Were 12 excessive? I was a sickly kid, with no relatives/friends close to my age, in a time with no computer entertainment, no video. I often used my dolls (or the far more numerous little plastic dogs I used to people my lego cities) as actors to tell myself stories.
My parents (and relatives) could afford the dolls, and I enjoyed playing with them. Were there kids without dolls? Probably. At least there were kids with no plastic dolls, as cheap as they were. (My mom made her own dolls when she was little. From fabric scraps.) And? Envy is not a virtue. And one shouldn’t encourage it in anyone, kids or not. You want better, work for it. Is this fair to kids? No. But how would depriving me of my dozen or so dolls give dolls to everyone else. My parents would just stop buying dolls for me, if they were to be given away, the doll industry would collapse, and dolls would become rarer and more expensive. (For the record mom always gave toys away to children in various charities, because she’d had to make her own.)
Who is to say what I needed or not? And who is to say how many dolls that long-dead little girl needed? People who think they can dictate how many dolls a child needs also think “At some point, you’ve made enough money.”
It’s as though they believe envy is a kind of superpower, and by aiming it at other people they can make everyone else miserable and they, themselves powerful.
They need to be answered early and often “you’re not my judge. Your envy is not a superpower. I will not submit. Take a hike.”
Because otherwise they propagate according to their own kind, and like locusts eat at civilization.
If they’d had their way and “equalized” the early 20th century society according to a list of victimhood and spoils, the world we live in today would resemble the darkest hours of the USSR.
Envy is a sin, not a virtue.
To invert morality that way leads to hell. Even when the hell is on Earth.