Dooce.com has given me a lot of laughs over the years, and it's one of the few weblogs I have made a point to visit every day. But lately I just can't get past how much Heather bashes her husband, and with increasing viciousness. Today's post was the last straw. (I'm intentionally not linking.)

There's clearly a lot of anger being sublimated into the blog, because she can't seem to make any casual mention of the man without a cutting remark. Even the recent post about Father's Day, which contains the only nice thing she's said about him for months, was undercut with nastiness. Go back and read old posts from happier times in their marriage; she pays him emphatic compliments, and when she does joke at his expense you can tell it's affectionate kidding.

I have little taste for women who emasculate their men with jokes (ask the last woman who made fun of me), and when the jokes pass for veiled hostility as they do here, I definitely want no part of them. I don't want to give up on one more blog, but I can't go on reading.


Four Replies to Goodbye Dooce

Anna Gregoline | June 27, 2007
I know what you mean. She seems like she needs a meds adjustment, or perhaps a different line of therapy because everything is a complaint, there seems to be no joy at all.

I dislike her for a multitude of reasons, but I used to enjoy her blog - not so much these days.

Lori Lancaster | June 27, 2007
[hidden by author request]

Jackie Mason | June 29, 2007
[hidden by author request]

Anna Gregoline | June 29, 2007
I'm kind of rolling my eyes at her cancer growths. She's had to have several moles removed. No other therapy mentioned, that I've seen. While not the most fun thing (I did it this year), it's not as dramatic as she makes it out to be.

Am I too harsh? I don't know. When you put your life on the internet as a spectacle to make money, I start to feel like I am allowed to be a bit judgmental.


Logical Operator

The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

Tooth in Advertising

Every time I go to the local Carmike cinema and watch their pre-show reminders montage, I wind up thinking about dentists. First they show King Kong howling with those yellowish fangs – he needs a veterinary dentist. Then it's the pirates of the Caribbean; they have gold teeth so they need dentists too. Go »

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Ah, Newsweek. You deliver a comprehensive cover story about the current state of evolutionary theory, barely slipping in a quick nod to the cultural debate, in an article that sticks wisely to the science. What do you follow up with as the B story in this week's science section? Go »

House Hunted

I'm not superstitious, or I wouldn't say this until the closing next month: Kelly and I are buying a house. It's a great house, too, with a guest bedroom and a pool, and the neighbor training horses in the back yard every day, and plenty of room for just about whatever we'd want to do with it, at a lower price than similar houses around here. It's not a hundred percent perfect but damn if it ain't close. Go »

The Time Has Come

My kingdom for an alarm clock that beeps once, gently, 60 seconds before it really begins going off. That way you're woken up comfortably and given a chance to turn it off, instead of being startled awake by loud shrieking and having to scramble for it. Go »

Crash

There are some dangerous intersections in our neighborhood, where trucks come barreling through after the light turns red. This morning, Kelly and I were waiting at the light when she dropped her sunglasses. "Fuck beans," she muttered, unbuckling her seat belt and leaning forward just as the light turned green. Go »

The Importance of Being Richard

A conversation drifted today into weird shortening of names, like Robert into Bob and William into Bill (how come Michael doesn't become Bike?), and inevitably Richard into Dick came up. How did that even happen, anyway? Go »