Making of Martha

Ok, let's throw out the false dichotomy of nature and nurture for a minute. Nash's first paper on game theory was about equilibriums. Martha is a monster that shows just how sick our culture is: in the guise of the quaint, humble and helpful retro matron comes a dried and pitted monomaniac who makes one wonder if Napoleonic is still a usable adjective. Her bio-graphy is rather hilarious in that there was no secret where her caisson was headed: stock broker cum cookie baker? Oh, please. There is no journalism left, we just let people take the micro-phone, if they can pay for it. There is something great about that though, since they very often pour the water over their own heads and then give us the opportunity to watch them melt as they sing 'woe is me.' Martha's rendition has been insane, from her commercial on the courthouse steps to her comparison of herself to Nelson Mandela. Her books are a crock, her recipes don't work and everyone who has worked with her hates her.

But what Martha really shows us is how sick we are. As people retreat further from actually living, they become more prone to falling for a proxy, even a completely phony, money-grubbing one. Not so much a diva (she has NOTHING to say/sing), she is a priestess: mere middle-woman (midwife). Ultimately the pill she issues is the illusion of recapturing time: feeding a nation of people who have scarcely a minute to do anything that doesn't make them money (note the irony), Martha is serving up the illusion of having time to make gunnysack thread holders or doilies for your next garden party.