My medieval and ancient ancestors watching me trying to charge my laptop and connect to WiFi: Ah, yes, she must feed her magic mirror on the telluric current and summon the spirits of knowledge from the aether.
My ancestors watching me proceed to doomscroll on Twitter: Alas! She is beguiled by the cruel babblings of the demons within the mirror; soon she will descend into melancholy from the things she has witnessed.
That’s a really awful to reason to have kids, tbh. Creating an entire person just to amuse you? What happens when they stop being entertaining and start being frustrating and needy? What happens when they get really into a show or hobby that you think is boring and dumb?
Have kids because you want to raise a person, get a pet if you just want some entertainment and companionship.
This!
Watching a tiny baby become a whole adult human, with all the effort and pain and heartache that entails, is an awe-inspiring, fearsome, and wonderful responsibility and privilege.
But it’s a LOT of work and only gets harder in the lead up to adulthood. It’s most definitely NOT for everyone, and it’s not the only way to build a family.
And personally? To be in the tickets booth, and see young girls, teenagers, adult women, coming in to see Barbie,
the most highlighter pink outfits, some of them coming in with the dolls they’re dressed as, laughing to each other, cheering for each other,
to see the men they’re coming to see it with, dressed in pink, cheering them on, taking their pictures with smiles and cheers in the lobby at the photo op
touches something so deep in me
I can’t say any nuances of the movie that haven’t already been said, but like, fuck man, love is so deep and so kind and to be able to see glimpses of it from behind my little ticket desk makes me a little less nihilistic.
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