In theory, I should be hot for book clubs. I typically read several books a week. I love discussing books with smart people. I love to bond with people over books.
Yet I’ve never enjoyed a book club.
I rarely enjoy sitting with a group of people who are each expected to share their thoughts and feelings on something.
Why not?
Because most people don’t have anything smart to say.
I hate being stuck with a bunch of retards. I hate having to treat their drivel as equally valid to profound insight.
Sharing is for chicks.
Equality is a feminine value, notes Dennis Prager.
Men love hierarchy.
I want someone devastatingly smart to lead a discussion and to not let morons ruin things.
I don’t go to a lot of Torah classes because there will always be one blowhard there who’ll feel compelled ten times a class to toot his own horn to no good effect.
It only takes one shmuck to ruin things — just ask anyone who’s hosted me for a Shabbat meal.
One thing I usually don’t like about Reform and Conservative synagogues — and their chicks are usually hotter — is when everyone is asked to contribute their thoughts on the parsha (Torah portion).
I only want to hear the thoughts of those who’ve toiled with the text and come out with insights I don’t have.
The only book club I’ve enjoyed is a movie — The Jane Austen Book Club.
