Today, we will be discussing the socio-sexual significance of-
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Hold on a second.
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What’s up?
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Well, I’ve been thinking. Does it ever depress you how casual written language has become?
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Is this another MySpace rant?
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No, not really. Just… There was a time, not really that long ago, when people took serious care any time they wrote. I mean, OK, check this out:

MATRIMONY.—A Private Gentleman, aged 24, entirely independent, whose disposition is not to be exceeded, has lately lost the chief of his family by the hand of Providence, which has occasioned discord among the remainder, under circumstances most disagreeable to relate. To any female of respectability, who would study for domestic comfort, and willing to confide her future happiness in one every way qualified to render the marriage state desirable, as the advertiser is in affluence. Many very happy marriages have taken place through means similar to this now resorted to, and it is hoped no one will answer this through impertinent curiosity; but should this meet the eye of any agreeable lady, who feels desirous of meeting with a sociable, tender, kind, and sympathising companion, they will find this advertisement worthy of notice. Honour and secrecy may be relied on. As some little security against idle applications, it is requested that letters be addressed (post-paid) to A.Z., care of Mr. Foster, stationer, No. 68, Leadenhall-street, which will meet with the most respectful attention.

Now compare that to a modern personal ad!
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Well, he was directly requesting marriage, not a date, so a certain degree of formality is appropriate, but I have to admit, he had a flair for language. Who was he?
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Oh, he was just this murderer. He killed the girl he told everyone he was eloping with and buried her in her parents’ barn. Then he posted that ad and married some chick in London.
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So you’re suggesting we pattern our behavior after that of a sociopath?

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Of course not, it’s just that unless you did something like commit murder no one bothered to save copies of your personal ads. Anyway, he only had a high school education, and he wrote like that. The replies he received, often from women with no education at all, are similarly erudite.

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And you’re just suggesting that if we don’t step it up we’re going to be outclassed by a murderer who couldn’t get into college.

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Pretty much.

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Fair enough.
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We speak then today of that finest of Our Lord’s gifts, the fairest of His designs, the wisest of His revisions between Adam and Eve. Our topic can be none but the feminine fundament.
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We humbly and warily beg to introduce yet another opinion on the subject, knowing full well that we tread within the footprints of giants, men such as the poet and musician Anthony Ray, famed artist Paolo Eleuteri Serpieri, and the filmmaker Adam Glasser, and yet we are compelled to speak, compelled ceaselessly, eschewing logic for the tempestuous and wild genius loci of passion. The stark and simple truth is that we speak on this subject not because we will, but because we must.

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Heed my words, fellows of the fairer sex, for I speak with knowledge a posteriori, being blessed as I am in first hand knowledge of matters relating to our subject of discourse, and I bring you words of hope, words of joy. Know well that in the moments that The Lord formed you you were granted a boon of great beneficence as He crafted your form, pausing after gastronomy, with none to consider but matters pedial, to bestow upon you an aspect that will call for the joyous study of all for all those counted among the sighted. It is the height of bad manners then for one endowed with abundance in matters pygious to intimate that this gift from God is in someway flawed.

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I speak now to same audience as my silver tongued and platinum pratted partner, please, dear woman reader, let my words find a place among your considerations. I will be brief, I ask only that, should you find yourself so unfortunate as to be in the intimate company of such a fool-who-calls-himself-a-man as takes a stern view of your stern, you entertain the notion that the defect is found not in your posterior, but his anterior.

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We take our leave now. Please accept our words in kindness and understanding. We intend only to share our affections and appreciations, and we hold only the meagerest hope that the ideas contained here-in may find in your mind a fertile ground, a place of comfort and respite, thence outward once more, spreading always, accepting and accepted.

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THE END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where did you find that classified ad in the first place?

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Oh, that was in the November issue of The Believer. They had this whole article about the murder and the resulting media frenzy, as well as some responses women sent to the personal ad. It’s pretty cool. You can find the whole thing on their website.
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Or by going to your Local Library.
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Right. I mean, assuming they carry The Believer.
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Right.
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