Ah, this brings me back... to so many conversations.
(credit to reckless tortuga, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMoGj9QtZts )
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Word of the Day
vi∙cious \’vi-shes\ (adj): (1) Dangerously aggressive, marked by violence or ferocity, (2) any interaction between two or more women.
Most of you guys probably suspected this already.
If only for lack of comparison, most of you women probably didn’t.
For all the talk about women’s civilizing affect on men, for all the snide comments about the female gender bring refinement and peace to barbaric, war-like men – there is no match in the male psyche for the hostile, competitive, and utterly limitless fury women are capable of amongst themselves.
Men, barring the involvement of religion, tend to follow some sort of code - the “bro code,” chivalric honor, the Geneva Convention, etc. Only in the worst of all violations will two men come to blows – and blows having been had, most are content to walk away the respective winner or loser.
In the female mind, hostility towards fellow women is both unanimous and omnipresent. There is no “bra code,” and no one has lived to tell the extent to which a woman pursue vengeance and jealousy’s demands.
Proof, in the form of practical application… Behold, this makeshift diagram of a social setting – a club or party or some such thing:
Most of you guys probably suspected this already.
If only for lack of comparison, most of you women probably didn’t.
For all the talk about women’s civilizing affect on men, for all the snide comments about the female gender bring refinement and peace to barbaric, war-like men – there is no match in the male psyche for the hostile, competitive, and utterly limitless fury women are capable of amongst themselves.
Men, barring the involvement of religion, tend to follow some sort of code - the “bro code,” chivalric honor, the Geneva Convention, etc. Only in the worst of all violations will two men come to blows – and blows having been had, most are content to walk away the respective winner or loser.
In the female mind, hostility towards fellow women is both unanimous and omnipresent. There is no “bra code,” and no one has lived to tell the extent to which a woman pursue vengeance and jealousy’s demands.
Proof, in the form of practical application… Behold, this makeshift diagram of a social setting – a club or party or some such thing:
Below is that same scene – through the eyes of a newly arrived man:
Right. Very predictable. Every guy, upon entering a room, will scan his immediate surroundings and identify (a.) all of the women of comparable age, and (b.) rank them according to attractiveness and “get-ability.” The duration of his time in the room will be spent trying to woo the prettiest girl within his league.
Now let’s take a look at what a woman would see upon arriving:
Women, you know this is true. Guys, if you don’t believe me – ask your sisters or girlfriends or wives.
The first thing a woman does upon entering a room is check out the other women. She identifies (a.) which ones are of comparable age, and (b.) ranks them according to attractiveness in relation to her perception of her own beauty. As a secondary thought, she may scan the room to identify the good looking guys – but the pecking order is supreme and she will actively seek out women who are less attractive and below her status… she needs to dominate, look good by comparison, and only then will the question of “most eligible man” come in to play.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Since No One Else Has Told You: THAT'S ANNOYING
So no, I’m not gone forever. Just returned from a week of work-related conferences. You know how that goes – boring lectures on productivity and technology integration.
Only slightly less expect was a lecture Tuesday evening on “Taking Women Seriously in The Workplace.” Despite a badly worded title, the content was entirely predictable. It had a lot less to do with how women were to be treated as industrial equals, and a lot more to do with how my having-of-a-penis made me more likely to irrationally discount people who didn’t share in such a troublesome groin condition.
But whatever, right? After years of sexual oppression, women have the right to be a little uptight and to demand workplace legitimacy.
So I walked out of the session determined to say nothing of it on this blog. That is, until I was approached by a fellow conference attendee. She seemed a normal sort – your typical, mid-twenties, single female. That is, until I noticed (and managed to cell-photograph) her nametag:
“Hi,” she said, extending her hand with the sort of sass that can only come from years of pretending to have a personality, “my name is Jenny.”
Noticing my inevitable confusion at her badge, she explained, undoubtedly for the thousandth, glee-filled time of the night, “The ‘H’ is silent, but ironic.”
The day may yet come when I hit a woman.
Ladies, I may chide you in future posts for your frequent and inaccurate delusions of male oppression and chauvinism – but if you ever feel like a man is failing to take you seriously, you have my permission to trust your instincts.
I know, it’s the 10-90% of you that give the other 90-10% a bad name. That’s always how it goes.
But there is an unmistakable and direct connection between the glamorization of artificial and needlessly (unbelievably) quirky personalities and the last few generations of women in our society.
To put things less delicately, you women have become obsessed with eccentric, “cutesy” facade... and it has GOT TO STOP, DAMMIT.
It’s a bid for attention, we all know that – either because you think your life experiences have made you deep or because you know they haven’t. What’s far more annoying is that you seem convinced that a.) it will actually succeed in drawing the attention you want, and b.) that you actually deserve any of the attention you get.
I’m not the kind of person who likes to brandish the ‘ole “people are dying of AIDS in Africa” shtick every time someone starts having a good time. But seriously, people are dying of AIDS in Africa. Pull yourself together; throw out your berets and skinny jeans and that god-awful pink handkerchief-and-matching-water-bottle. Wondering how you’ll get friends? …stop acting like a hopelessly introverted dipshit.
Only slightly less expect was a lecture Tuesday evening on “Taking Women Seriously in The Workplace.” Despite a badly worded title, the content was entirely predictable. It had a lot less to do with how women were to be treated as industrial equals, and a lot more to do with how my having-of-a-penis made me more likely to irrationally discount people who didn’t share in such a troublesome groin condition.
But whatever, right? After years of sexual oppression, women have the right to be a little uptight and to demand workplace legitimacy.
So I walked out of the session determined to say nothing of it on this blog. That is, until I was approached by a fellow conference attendee. She seemed a normal sort – your typical, mid-twenties, single female. That is, until I noticed (and managed to cell-photograph) her nametag:
“Hi,” she said, extending her hand with the sort of sass that can only come from years of pretending to have a personality, “my name is Jenny.”
Noticing my inevitable confusion at her badge, she explained, undoubtedly for the thousandth, glee-filled time of the night, “The ‘H’ is silent, but ironic.”
The day may yet come when I hit a woman.
Ladies, I may chide you in future posts for your frequent and inaccurate delusions of male oppression and chauvinism – but if you ever feel like a man is failing to take you seriously, you have my permission to trust your instincts.
I know, it’s the 10-90% of you that give the other 90-10% a bad name. That’s always how it goes.
But there is an unmistakable and direct connection between the glamorization of artificial and needlessly (unbelievably) quirky personalities and the last few generations of women in our society.
To put things less delicately, you women have become obsessed with eccentric, “cutesy” facade... and it has GOT TO STOP, DAMMIT.
It’s a bid for attention, we all know that – either because you think your life experiences have made you deep or because you know they haven’t. What’s far more annoying is that you seem convinced that a.) it will actually succeed in drawing the attention you want, and b.) that you actually deserve any of the attention you get.
I’m not the kind of person who likes to brandish the ‘ole “people are dying of AIDS in Africa” shtick every time someone starts having a good time. But seriously, people are dying of AIDS in Africa. Pull yourself together; throw out your berets and skinny jeans and that god-awful pink handkerchief-and-matching-water-bottle. Wondering how you’ll get friends? …stop acting like a hopelessly introverted dipshit.
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