Or, "I'm SO much better than YOU because I make and drink my own almond milk": here.
I mean, yeah, fine. If you drink soy or almond or rice milk instead of the stuff that comes from cows, God bless you. I know people who can't drink cow's milk and the other kinds are a blessing. And good for you if you've figured out how to make it yourself.
but for the love of all that's good, don't paint the rest of us as plasticizer-swilling, landfill-filling, animal-abusing Neandertals because you can.
Thanks so much.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Why I hate "craftivism"
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3 comments:
That's a bad case of "smug" right there.
I bought a quart of almond milk for $1.99 at Trader Joe's yesterday. Four of those, at that price, I think is still cheaper than a pound of almonds and the time and mess/cleanup I'd have to do making it myself.
And Tetrapak was a kind employer of my cousin for years, so. . . whatever.
I'm sorry--it was a half gallon. My bad.
$3.98 and I don't have to wash a ton of dishes afterwards. Even better.
WV: "fugledi"--the attitude of some craftivists.
Some years ago, I was sent to a time-management class. The best take-home lesson I learned?
"Do what you do best, and hire the rest"
Seriously, I love hobbying and all that. Wish I had more time for it. But I refuse to feel superior just because I (sometimes, when I get the time) roll my own ammo, or because I (sometimes, when I get the chance) brew my own beer, or even because I (pretty much all the time because I kinda have to) mow my own lawn or do my own laundry. What a buttload of nonsense.
People who get to take the time to do this stuff - great for you. But please recognize that it's because you have the money and time to do it. AS A HOBBY.
Seriously again, despite this week's FFOT on reality TV, I did appreciate one particular "reality" show that aired a few years ago. It was about people trying to live the pioneer life. The participants worked for like 16 hours a day, doing this kind of stuff. At the end of the series (the only episode I actually watched, and that only a few minutes), one line stuck out. About the winter's firewood cut by the "husband", as best I can recall it:
"Not enough wood. You died."
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