(I)ndividuals don’t arise randomly out of vats, but are born and bred, come from long-established groups, with long established marriage patterns and long-established physical, intellectual, and behavioral traits.
I know many rich male Google programmers, but I have never seen any of them marry a stunning black girl from the ghetto(…) I’ve also never seen them marry a beautiful hillbilly from West Virginia, or a beautiful farmer’s daughter from Modesto. I don’t even really see them marry a beautiful girl from the suburbs with a community college degree.
One of my sisters is an old maid. People used to call women like her spinsters, a term for women who remained unmarried, living out their lives spinning wool. Despite the fact that she is almost 70 years old, she has never really been able to hold down a job. In previous eras, her inability to maintain employment would have been masked by the fact that she may not have needed to punch her card at a factory. Although, in her particular case, they would have made her try since many of my family were garment workers who lived in tenements and did the whole Fievel Mousekewitz thing. While I don’t speak to any family who could verify this anymore, I always heard that my grandmother worked in the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory before it burned down, a fact which is possible given that my father was not born until 1929. Because my sister was born midway through the 20th century, she missed the factory but also the office and, instead, can mostly do nothing. Occasionally doing so with Jeff, her best friend from high school–who is gay—which makes her a “fag hag,” in recently acceptable parlance.
One day, my sister and I visited Jeff whose tastes most approximate Freddy-Mercury-goes-to-Boca. Here and there sheets, paint, scaffolding were laid, making sure not to tarnish any sculptures, cherubs or statues. He was in the process of getting his house painted. By a woman. She also happened to live in the community, which was pretty small and not even dominated by, let alone, exclusive to gay people, for which, it turned out, she was also one–a lesbian.
When we got back to our father’s house later that day, we caught up with him and mentioned the painter. Who the hell finds a female house painter, let alone a lesbian who happens to live in the same gated community, I asked?
Our father said, “Fish gotta swim with fish and whales gotta swim with whales.”
My sister can’t swim but, decades after highschool, she and Jeff still glide around Miami singing about everyone else’s looks.
Firefighters marry nurses
Cops marry schoolteachers. Masculine men date feminine women, and more androgynous men date more androgynous women. Sugar babies like sugar daddies. Tops like bottoms and some guys date guys who look like their brother. I’ve known men with normal BMI who serially date women (or men) who are clinically obese because they just love ass. But each most likely prefers his own main squeeze to someone else’s, at least when it comes down to the business of marriage.
I’ve known short women who date tall guys, and short women who date short guys (some of whom seem tall to short girls). I’ve known white girls who only date black guys, white girls who never date white guys, and white girls who only date white guys. In fact, most people date within their race and no one thinks anything of it.
Turns out, the Bang Brothers pornography dynasty and its retinue of titles are largely predicated on these discrete categories and revealed preferences but people seem to think the dynamics presented in sportcumming are excluded from the halls of matrimony, career, and the trajectory of one’s life itself. But what are you, if not, the sperm of fortune who beat out the sperm of mediocrity in the Sea of Destiny? When you drunkenly crash your Civic Type R into a veteran—controlling traffic for public school students four grades below reading proficiency—on the way to watch the 1994 cult classic Clifford starring Martin Short, with your ex who still cuts, is this not really nature taking its course? The fault of your father who inseminated your mother, thinking no child like you could ever emanate from her loins? But does this culpability not extend to his forefathers and beyond? To ponder such questions is to ponder Ancient Problemz.
Deep in the group chat
Of
’s PAID subscriber feed (you should pay), some of us were discussing such issues when linked me to this article from The Post which shows that there are also many who marry within their profession, with physicians/surgeons landing the top spot. If you are standing in a room of ten of them, two of them should be married to each other. All can write prescriptions for drugs.Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
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