American Wedding Worship

It's irritating!

It's infuriating!

How can some people be so egregious!

Yet it seems to be great entertainment to many women.

No, I'm not talking about the multiple Reality TV shows with people slugging it out in the jungles of Bora-Bora or...learning how to survive on Mt. Ararat if your climbing buddies perish, leaving you to construct an igloo from black ice while hunting for Noah's Ark.

I'm talking about that show on W-E...(Women's Entertainment Network)...which features the abominable snow-women, she-big foots, and the female chupacabras disguised as …….. Bride-zillas.

What is the fascination of watching supposed-liberated women show their feminist rear-ends? We can expect no shortage of fodder for mother-in-law jokes should these self-absorbed brats propagate and spawn carbon-copies of themselves.

One would hope women are planting their daughters in front of the Boob Tube and educatiing their impressionable offspring on how reprehensible this behavior is.

I'm not a Neanderthal who believes in knocking a woman over the head and dragging her to the cave. However, As I See It, this kind of Bridezilla-style feminist liberation is detrimental to women everywhere. These spoiled floozies might win every conflict on HER day, but what about the next day,..and the day after,..and the day after that,..and on and on. In the wake of her perfect wedding, she leaves executed relationships and irreparable emotional chaos.

How did our society evolve to where we elevate this kind of emotional gladitorialism to Women's Entertainment?

The Barbee Syndrome: The American female is presented at the earliest age with an idol worthy of any pagan culture. Goddess Barbie, and her obliquatory underling-male adorer Ken, are fondled, adored, adorned with clothing, jewels, and other plastic (but not as beautiful) plastic friends. Yearly she morphs into trendy, contemporary settings.

The Belief? With Barbie as the epitome of womanhood it is no wonder most women feel inferior. Who can compete with a figure of legs (always poised for high heels) 1/2 her height and a bust size so out of proportion she would have back trouble and walk leaning forward if she was human.

Wedding Worship: Perhaps only the mortuary and drug businesses in America have higher markup margins than weddings. Little girls are encouraged to look forward to marriage and having children. They hear their mothers coo over brides at weddings. They quickly learn that the supreme dress-up and looking pretty is the wedding dress. Reinforced with such movie garbage as Pretty Woman, any promiscuous behavior before wedding commitment can be overlooked by a walk down the isle.

The Belief? The Wedding Day is THE day--the crowning hour of womanhood. Nothing before it or after it will match the moment of dressing up and saying "I Do" in front of in-laws, out-laws, business friends of the parents, friends of friends, and occasionally total strangers if they bring a gift. These guests are wined and dined with food, flowers, and music which cost enough to make a substantial down payment on a home. This must be HER perfect day.

As I watched my mate watching Bridezillas, I wonder what the-morning-after will be like for these cranky, spoiled, angry, b……, (I'll be nice) picky women. What's in store for the men who wake up next to these bogus-Barbies?

Most married couples are familiar with the "I'll change them when we get married" fantasy. But for a man to ignore the boorish behavior of his bridezilla leaves me thinking the poor, blind, hen-pecked smuck deserve what he overlooks.

Is our society to blame…after all "it takes a village to raise a child." (What tripe!)

I'm inclined to turn my microscope toward the parents. To raise a princess--so totally focused on herself that society must bend to her whims--is unrealistic and eventually harmful to herself. If she escapes the divorce urgings of her peers when her kingdom fails to cower daily at her feet, she will live to find a spouse and children who fear and shun her. America's nursing homes of are filled with these bitter, shriveled, abandoned women.

Once Upon a Time, a king had such a daughter, he could not deal with. He didn't know how to marry off his strong-willed, critical off-spring, even in a culture of arranged marriages.

At the same time, the king was faced with a competitor for his throne. A young, handsome, courageous man, in the king's own employ, was being elevated by public praise to a status of hero notoriety. The subject of songs and sages, he was indeed a giant-killer.

In a brilliant stroke of genius, King Saul knew he could cripple his competition. by marrying off his troublesome second daughter Michal. According to the Old Testament book of 1 Samuel 18, Michal was enamored with Hebrew-hunk David, son of Jessie, slayer of Goliath. She must have been a looker; David fell for the "son-in-law-of-the-boss" arrangement. Verse twenty-one is very telling:

"Saul said, I will give her to David that she may be a snare to him, that the hand of my enemy may be against him."

David could conquer giants but not one of history's first bridezillas. Her critical spirit would harass him mercilessly on the day of his greatest spiritual exploit, and perhaps drive him into the arms of a next door neighbor's wife.

Bridezillas of the world take notice: You had better enjoy having your way on your wedding day . . . No one respects a princess after the flowers have wilted and candles are extinguished. It's going to be hard work to keep the kingdom intact.