Tags: gotta get more stuff

Snarky Candiru2

Greed: More, MORE, MORE!!!

Another mortal sin that has enslaved our merry band of vermin is Avarice. Now, they don't seem to be especially money hungry, except for say Michael. After all, he seemed somewhat dissatisfied that his fluke advance of twenty-five thou wasn't bigger. It isn't all about money, however, as much as it is the race to acquire worldy goods to the exclusion of all higher needs. You must admit most of these people are a shameless bunch of pack rats, and look down on April because she thinks the drive to burden oneself with gear is a mug's game. I can vaguely remember a sequence with Elly having an argument with Phil over a pipe organ their parents owned. What had happened is that the Richards had moved to a smaller house after their children had moved away and were eager to rid themselves of some material possessions they didn't immediately need and had over the years made contradictory promises over its ownership. The thing is that Phil had the stronger claim because he'ds actually use the thing; she just wanted it to get the thing first so as to have sometrhing to pretend to dust. They aren't really all that greed-driven, but let's just say that Avarice is holding the coats of more ACTIVE partners, shall we?
Snarky Candiru2

The edifice complex: The Patterson house.

Another galling trait of the Patterson family is their failure to really leave home. No matter how they try to leave and live independently, sooner or later they spiral back to the old neighborhood, yea verily, even unto their old house. At first blush, this seems to be a suburban take on the 'family farm' trope. I, of course, mean that the Pattersons, John in particular, seem grimly determined to keep their three-story box in the family as if they were a clan of nineteenth-century smallholders trying to keep the railroad from seizing their land. His dream of letting Michael inherit a tract house in a housing development as if it were Buckingham Palace is flat out fucking ludicrous. Michael, sadly, will ACCEPT the offer with cretinous glee. Elizabeth, too, will destroy her last shred of dignity 'mature' and marry the whimperingly gloomy sack of pus charming go-getter Anthony, who lives a few blocks from Casa Foob. John, Elly and neglected afterthought spoiled Matrian princess April themselves will move into a cozier house that's only a ten minute walk from Xanafoob. Elly even gushes about the fact that their very urns will be cheek-by-jowl, so even in death they'll be one close-knit little group (of charred bone fragments). Warm and cozy, right? NAUSEATINGLY WRONG. What kind of fucked-up twit WANTS to spend the rest of his life in his childhood home? I'll tell you; a FOOB, that's who! They've all been programmed with Elly's fear-filled insularity and malignant lack of curiosity. You might liken them to a flock of ducks imprinted on their handler, mindlessly marching even unto the chopping-block.
The idea is that they're a group of dependent infants who've had their silly little adventures and must return to the safety of Mother's bosom. The insane sentiment that the mechanical act of crapping out offspring is a noble justification for Elly's brand of sick fealty and the older children's belief in same is the primary cause of their horrific failure as humans. The hideous result, a pair of ninnies who'll be weak-willed children until they slam the oven doors on their feet, is seen by the vain monster not as the hateful crime it is but a glorious affirmation of mother-love. Her stolid refusal to raise autonomous individuals who can play a useful part in society is her most malevolent failure. As her defense of not wanting to be obsolete, she might have just as well died shortly after giving birth to April for all the good she really is to those around her.
Snarky Candiru2

Neighbors four: those cargo-cultist Foobs and the dreaded Other.

I know I'm beating a dead horse her, but I can't help but notice the Patterson family in general and Elly in particular have a deep-seated dread of the new and different. This stems from a near-manic drive to go through this existence without really experiencing anything. Elly's ideal is for a nice, safe, tidy little world where each day is exactly like the one before and there are no nasty little surprises to upset the perfect routine. The notion of being dragged along into things and dealing with the big, nasty world and *gasp* growing as a person fills her with as much horror as her plastic, super-sanitary zombified life fills us. You'd almost feel sorry for her because she's both an unbearable know-it-all and hapless down-the-river patsy. The temptation immediately vanishes because she thinks this horrifying and crippling character defect a mark of singular virtue. The freakish old biddy refers to her smug refusal to budge from a idea whose failure is obvious even to the dullards and toadies she calls her immediate family 'integrity' when it's a sad comment of the rottenness inside her soul. She thereby defends herself by projecting her deformed prejudices on the outside, seeking only those facts that confirm her delusions. Thus the horrid failure of Granthony and Straw-woman Therese's marriage and the chaos between Lizardbreath and the sap Paul stem from a culture clash, breezily ignoring the failed real-world union of White(Lynn) and Bread(Husband no. 1). Another shameless example of begging the question is her pointless animosity towards Lizardbreath's cat, Shiimsaa. The hapless creature is bad because cats are bad, case closed, end of discussion. Part and parcel with her worship of mind-numbing predictability is the worship of material goods. She and most of her family obsess constantly over the state of their beloved material possessions, even valuing them over the well-being of the people and companion animals in their care. Threaten a Patterson with physical harm, as Kortney did with April, and that's no big deal. Threaten or break their crud and you've got a fight on your hands, buddy. One is reminded of South Sea islanders who have formulated a folk religion based on manufactured items, the famous 'cargo cults'. They believe a messiah will someday appear and deliver their rightful cargo from the hands of the white man. Explaining to them about factories and even showing them around one is useless because their faith is pure and will not be sullied by the lies of the Europeans. So it is with the primitive tribe called the Foobs. As long as their cargo stays exactly where it is, the world is safe and the Sun will not die. At least, that's how Elly sees it. The others are probably just good little consumers happily rubbing other peoples nose in their crap. April is thought of as a freak because she doesn't sink her self worth into her possessions. But then, sanity is madness to the insane.