“The newspaper headline screams: “Eighteen-Year-Old Slain by Husband after Giving Birth.” As you continue reading, you learn that the young woman was brainwashed by a strange blood-drinking cult who call themselves a “family,” though none of the members were actually related. The young woman’s husband was much older than she and had a history of violence. In fact, you learn that her husband used to stalk her prior to her marriage, watching her secretly from the woods near her home and climbing into an unsecured window at night to watch her sleep without her knowledge. Once the young woman, then seventeen, was initiated into a relationship with the man and his “family,” she was encouraged to marry right after her high school graduation. The young woman reportedly had bruises all over her body after returning from her honeymoon, where she also reportedly became pregnant. Her husband was not happy about the pregnancy and wanted her to have an abortion. She refused, eventually leading to him ripping the child from her womb, then, draining her of her blood until she finally stopped breathing. Sounds torturous and sick, doesn’t it? But in fact, this is the basis of a tween-teen literary phenomenon called the Twilight saga…”—
Twilight and Philosophy, p.178 (chapter by Rebecca Housel)
“Most of us have noticed the trend: new subdivisions filled with McMansions pumped up on steroids, neighbors who demolished their cottage and replaced it with a mini-castle, the friend of a friend’s childless brother who just added on a third bedroom. Maybe you’ve heard the story of a couple who “lost” their toddler in their new, huge house. Many of us know someone who has suffered the consequences of an inflated mortgage, an overwhelming construction project, or a house simply too large to keep clean. Will our dream home always be a celebration of excess, and a drain on our lives? Is it, as one of our former presidents said of the American way of life, ‘not up for negotiation’?”—
Shay Salomon, Little House on a Small Planet (via handmadegeek)
- I am semi-guilty of this syndrome, my wife and I do live together (with pets) in a 2000+ sqft home that previously raised a family of 8. The only thing that differs us from this concept entirely is that we were the only buyers looking to “respectfully revive” this amazing 1920s cottage not destroy and subdivide the large lot into two McTownhouses. I do feel a sense of responsibility to the designer, and builders of our home to revitalise it’s “bones” and remove the bad 70s “Brady Bunch” renovations done in the past. I think these feelings of duty to older/borderline heritage buildings is strongly rooted in my grandfather’s involvement and amazing success in the real estate industry leaving me and my father the de-facto caretaker of his heritage properties since I can remember. I also recently learned that my great grandfather made a living not only as a farmer in rural England, but also buying up run down farm houses and reviving/combining the best parts into vacation homes for urban sycophants looking to get away to the country. Yet again, maybe these are all just the justifications I tell myself to reconcile the idea that I have enough space to dedicate one entire room to sneakers and another to Lego, records and other immature pursuits.