Crying spaces for NYC – American Thinker

If New Yorkers are supposed to be tough, then why are cry spas popping up in the city? Sob Parlour is an emotive sanctuary, where, for about $20, a sniveling crybaby can howl in privacy and comfort.

First, there were safe-space bubbles for college crybabies afraid of dynamic interactions and intent on denying free expression. Now, there are forlorn cry spaces with entirely too much expression pinging around. And the number one reason for their sorrow — “heartache after experiencing a bad breakup or unrequited love.”

Well, cry me a river! There’s real suffering afflicting people in America and across the globe. But unrequited love?! Get over it already.

Apparently, today’s shrinks and psychologists have concluded that crying has health benefits. Medical professionals convince us that it can even be cathartic. But if the self-indulgent namby-pambies want comprehensive catharsis, then there’re a couple of other approaches:

In a hospital in Sicily during WWII, Private Charles Kuhl was whimpering when General Patton visited. Asked where he was hurt, the cowering private replied that he wasn’t so much wounded as just nervous, saying, “I guess I can’t take it.” Patton proceeded to slap the bejesus out of him with his glove.

For that, Eisenhower ordered Patton to make amends. While congressional weenies demanded Patton be recalled, public opinion was largely favorable to him. Indeed, Kuhls’ father even wrote to his congressman, expressing his forgiveness toward Patton, and urging he not be disciplined. Kuhl himself served the rest of the war, and later described Patton as a “great general.” Now that’s catharsis.

Patton also slapped sniveling Private Paul G. Bennett in the receiving tent of a hospital in Sicily. Bennett complained, “It’s my nerves. I can’t stand the shelling anymore.” Patton, who visited wounded troops often, thought him a malingerer.

Well, after the original slap “heard around the world,” an expiated Bennett continued to serve in the Army, including in the Korean War, attaining the rank of Sergeant First Class. Not too bad for someone originally accused of malingering.

Perhaps the whimpering whiners who frequent the Sob Parlour also have frayed nerves. Instead of a Patton-like slapping (though effective at startling someone out of their emotional self-indulgence), how about clapping?

Clapping releases powerful physical and mental stimulants; it even activates one’s energy chakras. Just look at all those cheery chakras engulfing Kamala Harris’s aura as she unwittingly clapped (does she do anything wittingly?) along to a protest song in Haiti. While being mocked, she still smiled moronically — that’s the power of clapping.

The beauty of clapping to overcome stress and sadness is that one doesn’t need to pay for a private room. In New York City, for example, just go to Central Park, or any of the 1700 parks in the city, and have a salubrious clapping session in nature. If that’s all one does there, that’d probably be considered normal compared to other park-induced behaviors.

An enduring prescription for the lovelorn crybabies is to serve a MAGA cause greater than themselves. Who knows, perhaps serendipity will present a requited love interest to mend their heartache, all while in the service of others? Ultimately, that’s more rejuvenating than perpetuating pity at the cry spa.

For patriotic, stoic stalwarts the phrase “Keep calm and carry on” resonates. Where “carry on” means civic-engagement and helping to Make America Great Again. I’ll clap to that.

For leftists in deep blue cities, who wallow in self-imposed victimhood, the applicable phrase seems to be, “Become hysterical and cry on.” That behavior is even exemplified by their weeping congressional representatives, as seen here with AOC. The preachy leftist’s hysterical rants are a slap in the face to pragmatic Americans with true grit, for crying out loud.

I almost weep for our future — almost, because one might still appreciate the entrepreneurial spirit of Sob Parlour’s founder. He’ll likely be clapping all the way to the bank given how sad New York City has become. And that’s no claptrap.

Image: Pixabay