Romanticism gives way to “grunting moronic ugliness”

Via Pundette, exhibit A of yesteryear:

Mark Steyn presents exhibit B, the “grunting moronic ugliness” of today:

Perhaps the saddest part of the book is Ingraham’s brisk tour of recent romantic ballads. Exhibit A, Enrique Iglesias:

Please excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude

But tonight I’m f**king you . . . 

Well, at least he said “excuse me,” which is more than this young swain did:

 Take my order ’cause your body like a carry out

 Let me walk into your body until it’s lights out.

Lovely:  I am so hot for you I look on you as a Burger King drive-thru.  That’s what the chicks dig. That’s what you’ll be asking the band to play at your silver wedding anniversary as you tell the young ’uns that they don’t write ’em like they used to. Even better, this exquisite love song is sung not by some bling-dripping braggart hoodlum of the rap fraternity but by the quintessential child-man of contemporary pop culture, ex-Mouseketeer Justin Timberlake.

We have a culture, Steyn argues, that encourages entry into adolescence earlier and postpones the exit–if it ever occurs. This is the result. Though in fairness to the adolescents I used to teach, this is one of the worst similes ever written. More:

It’s not the vulgarity or the crassness or even the grunting moronic ugliness, but something more basic: the absence of tenderness. A song such as “It Had To Be You” or “The Way You Look Tonight” presupposes certain courtship rituals. If a society no longer has those, it’s not surprising that it can no longer produce songs to embody them: After all, a great love ballad is, to a certain extent, aspirational; you hope to have a love worthy of such a song. A number like “Carry Out” is enough to make you question whether the fundamental things really do apply as time goes by.

When feminists allowed–nay, encouraged–promiscuous sexual activity as a right of equals, we lost something fundamental along the way. When a man can tell a woman she’s like a drive-through, barks his order at the window and tosses her out along with the wrappers, and the woman acquiesces, equal isn’t the first thing that comes to mind.


9 Responses

  1. […] I am sure NOW and the hippies from the “sexual revolution” are thrilled that they’ve demystified romance to the point where it ceases to exist.  […]

  2. You are so right PJ. I do think hell broke loose when feminists took over femininity. Women were what prevented men from being complete slobs. Now everyone is a slob. And don’t get me started on tattoos. That is surely the sign of a vulgar culture.

    • Manny, you have a point about slobs. I never thought about it That way. As far as tattoos, I’m with you. Funny thing is, even among friends my age (mid 30s), I’m an anomaly sans skin art.

  3. Makes me want to throw up. Will we ever find our way back from the moral desert?

  4. What a contrast. I shudder when I think of young people consuming that soul-killing “music” and partaking of the culture that spawns it. Excellent point at the end about feminism.

    Thanks very much for the link.

    • Thanks, Jill. (And most welcome, thanks for the music!) It’s what feminists wanted, isn’t it? “Equality” to make equally poor decisions. Some equality. I don’t get the music, but maybe it’s because I was raised on Gidget and The Flying Nun instead of what passed as tv when I was a kid. I wanted to marry Jimmy Stewart. So I guess I’ve never been a part of “pop culture” (which is why I have no reservations about restricting pjKid’s access to it.)

      • Well there’s country music. Married as I am to my Texan, I feel a tug when I listen to Josh Turner’s Soulmate or In My Dreams.

        And on a completely different note: “pjKid” 🙂 All grow’d up!

      • I started to write pjToddler and then realized she’s not anymore. Kinda wild, ain’t it, how quickly this all happens?

      • And as for country, I might have to get used to it (though there’s fodder there too!)

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