NSFW: The Grapes of Wrath

Unbelievable. There are incredibly dumb people out in the world... Lord knows, I seem to attract them with "Bring me your annoyances, your morons, your opinionated..." attitude (this must be on an invisible tattoo I wear on my forehead.)

Ok, let's discuss. Mind you, I hate discussing politics as much as I do gynecology. You don't need to keep comparing dick size, and no one truly needs to know about a sick vagina.

We are in a recession, people. Life is hard. Sure, be joyful, learn to enjoy the sweet and simple. BUT...
Paying more than most new cars do to be able to look like extras from the Grapes of Wrath? Mr. Steinbeck, I'm sure, was smiling down at this delightful ceremony. No, wait... poor word choice. I mean, rolling over in his grave.

Before I go into other God-awful themes for celebrations, here's the delightful tale, of people who learned about hobo culture through Urban Dictionary (for the love of Pete, Urbies are possibly only appropriate if you're looking for a new and funny string of insults. Like, maybe: Cockswagglingbluecuntwaffle.)

Historical Prospective:
The Great Depression
A terrible time in history, throughout the late 20's and 30's. 24% unemployment, rampant homelessness and poverty, childhood mortality up... get an image? Ok, now, think about that...dust bowl, hungry children. Selling tires for food. Itinerant workers, getting ripped off. Fun, right? Like, totes more fun than a barrel of monkeys? Right? Of course, right!

Oh, I know. I couldn't believe it myself. What could be more exciting than this?!

And now: These Blooming Idiots

Two people fell in love & married. Awesome! (Zero sarcasm.)
Then, they did this really cool thing, where they spent many thousands of dollars, dressing up as depression-era displaced people traveling and attempting to make ends meet. Freakin' awesome, daddy-o.
Like totally awesomesauce, they also served fake moonshine and food out of paper bags. Cool beans, dude!

None of this appeals to me. That's my right. What pisses me off: we are many TRILLIONS in debt. People are losing homes, living on shoestrings, and they act like being a poor hobo, (depression era, not Jack Keurack, have Auntie mail you money, Rebel without a cause style) is, like, totally sweet, so why were photographs of poor people in the Depression so grumpy? A dangerous life of becoming a slave and trying like hell to make ends meet is like, totes sweet!

Oh, hell, I'm too mad. I'll let these people talk.
THIS, THIS, is something to celebrate? THIS?!

Please note: At this time, the woman above was 32 years old. SHOCKING.

Photographer: Dorothea Lange: "I saw and approached the hungry and desperate mother, as if drawn by a magnet. I do not remember how I explained my presence or my camera to her, but I do remember she asked me no questions. I made five exposures, working closer and closer from the same direction. I did not ask her name or her history. She told me her age, that she was thirty-two. She said that they had been living on frozen vegetables from the surrounding fields, and birds that the children killed. She had just sold the tires from her car to buy food. There she sat in that lean-to tent with her children huddled around her, and seemed to know that my pictures might help her, and so she helped me. There was a sort of equality about it."

And then, she expressed her fervent hope that two people with thousands of dollars to spend would show their love by celebrating her incredibly fun life, caught on film by a photographer for the Farm Security Administration. Oh, wait... no, she didn't! 
"Darling, your eyes glow by the light of the trash can fires, and your emaciated frame and rapidly aging face are so lovely to me. As there is tragedy in the world, so too may our love be, world without end, amen."
Romantic stuff.