This psychopath asks Obit's resident sage Judy. We whip out our pink Ouija board and ask a bunch of dead people!
When her boyfriend broke up with her, a young girl — 17 — committed suicide. She is (was) the daughter of a longtime friend. And to put it candidly, my friend was a so-so mother. Always criticizing the girl, never praising her, telling her she was "fat" or that her grades weren't up to par. Like that.
So I really think my friend's attitude contributed to that poor girl's suicide. My friend talks about it a lot, obviously, keeps pinning the tragedy on the boy who broke off with her daughter. And keeps saying she was always "a good mother."
What should I say? If anything? Should I correct her? In my mind she was an awful mother, and maybe she should acknowledge that.
Dorothy Parker: If I trusted you behind the wheel and I wasn't already sipping a martini, you'd have just driven me to drink.
Ayn Rand: How does this serve your rational self-interest? You are a fool.
Leopold and Loeb: Our superior intellect impels this kind of honesty. Carry on.
Saint Paul: I hate women.
Agamemnon: You know, "acknowledging it?" Doesn't really help that much.
Joan Crawford: Maybe she was fat.
Hume: Honesty is part of letting go. It is seeing the need to let go. (The desire for humility comes from admitting that one is prideful.)
Innocent III: The only sinner here is the miserable girl who's now in hell. Let's pray for her.
Edith Piaf: It was love! IT WAS LOVE, I SAY!
H.L. Mencken: Conscience is a mother-in-law whose visit never ends. And you make me glad to be dead.
Judas: You're a good friend.
Aurelia Plath: Go to hell, go directly to hell.
[Jack Kerouac was not apparently available for comment at this time.]