Senator Craig’s Stab at Redemption

For those of you completely shut off from reality, Republican Senator Larry Craig of Idaho is the guy who was recently busted for playing footsy with a plain clothes officer in a public restroom. Contrary to the media hype, this is NOT an indictment of gay America, in spite of its convenience to political opportunists.

Allow me set this up for you.

Let’s say, for example, that women were hormonally similar to ALL men…straight, or those falling anywhere else along Kinsey’s sexual spectrometer. This scenario would make anonymous sexuality available at the drop of a hat. You couldn’t walk your dog in the morning without spotting a couple humping in someone’s driveway. But this is a male fantasy, so wipe the sweat off your brow. It ain’t gonna happen no matter how much you salivate.
Women are NOT similar to men in this regard.

So now that we’re clear about the fact that men, in general, are the principal culprits, not all men act on their sexual impulses…orientations, notwithstanding. Many gay couples are monogamous. Many straight couples are monogamous. But with the proliferation of the internet, those even marginally predisposed to “wander” have the greatest opportunity in human history to exploit their moral gray zones at the stroke of a few keys.
Want sex? Just go to this or that website and find all the “hot” restrooms in America.

Simple…REALLY.

You don’t have to pay for it in cash. You can get it done quickly. And you can continue to do it until your addiction either exposes you or gets you killed…quickly or otherwise.

In short, whether Senator Craig is gay, bisexual or a sex addict is irrelevant. He is a sitting United States Senator who has a big problem he refuses to face, at least directly. What he does do is employ a passive-aggressive approach to redemption by blocking ANY gay rights legislation…his version of contributing “carbon credits” to offset his moral and ethical dereliction. His addiction to this activity goes back decades [according to widespread rumor] and the internet feeds the addiction by making it so much more available. In fact, this activity has become so commonplace these days that the news bureaus are now referring to the phenomena as the “new culture of anonymous sex.” I would refer to it as the “history of mankind, finally exposed.”
When I was growing up, this stuff was going on all around me [particularly in New Orleans], but there was no Google Earth, no blanket media coverage of every square inch of the planet, and not enough televisions to go around. Now we have more televisions than people, and ratings that hinge on higher and higher thresholds to capture audiences. Hence, the “new culture of whatever…”

Repackaged.  Redistributed.  Resold as novelty for ratings.
 
Bullshit, all of it. Nothing has changed. We live in a puritanical society that shames us for sexual behavior, while hosting the world’s largest market for porn production, topless bars and illegal prostitution. This is our world, and while I have a major problem with its obvious duplicity, people must all take personal responsibility for their actions – its called “ownership” for those of you not in therapy -  and understand that there are ramifications for these actions.
        
In the end, I don’t care what Senator Craig does in a restroom. I don’t care whether or not he attends orgies, or a member of the BDSM community. I do, however, care about whether what he says and what he does are on the same page, so that I don’t have to worry about the voting record of a sociopath with un-medicated borderline tendencies. 

Why Porn Is [often] Men’s Drug of Choice

Feminism has changed the complexion of reality as we know it. Women have become more engaged in the relationship process; intellectually, emotionally. Men haven’t budged, primarily because there hasn’t been a men’s movement, per se. So while women are demanding a more intimate commitment from their mates, the traditional male role model suddenly features a new dynamic…kind of like playing on Astroturf, rather than grass. It’s an adjustment; a major adjustment on a global scale…and escape is as easy as a few keystrokes.
 
Men are predators, and often, dumb ones at that. While women are at home studying this new dynamic with a vengeance, men are still out all night long doing what men do without regard for what lays waiting just beyond the tree line.

To be more direct, women are validating their notions about intimacy and using it as a weapon against male ignorance. I don’t blame them. I understand the male mind well, and also understand that where there is a demand, there is a supply…and I’m not talking about shrinks and self-help manuals.

It’s called Porn.

This 6 billion dollar a year industry is perfectly adapted to male biochemistry and about as cheap as any drug on the planet. It’s also ingenious in that it panders to both the male objectification of women AND the feminist view that “what’s good for the goose is [also] good for the gander.” In other words, if men can view porn without being stigmatized, so too can women.

Now we have a problem.
 
While women like to think that porn is okay them as well, they also understand the difference between enjoying a video or two…and full-blown addiction. Specifically, if the said porn begins to chip away at the fabric of a deeper interpersonal relationship, they choose the relationship and throw the porn in the dumpster. Men, on the other hand, tend to keep the porn and ditch the relationship.
 
Here’s why…

Most men view intimacy as weakness. And while one can certainly define sexual intercourse as a form of intimacy, men view it more as a sex act. That is, until the woman decides to initiate a conversation that does not tread lightly on things men find uncomfortable…like “Why are you watching so much porn?” “Do you view women as sexual objects?” “Must you view women as sexual objects in order to perform?” If so, why?” “And no, by your ‘feelings’ I am not talking about who you think is going to win the next Super Bowl!!!”

Men are raised to aggress. Boys don’t cry. And men stand tall and take it like…men. Caesar probably didn’t sit around in some psych group and talk about his feelings before going on a rampage of massacre. Nor did he have to share his inner-most feelings with Cleo unless it involved hand-cuffs, blindfolds and a riding crop.
 
Now we have women who want men to be strong, but equally attentive, sensitive, loving, nurturing…and five-star communicators. Along the way, many reach a breaking point, and porn offers the convenient perpetuation of self-denial…not in the masturbatory sense,  but in the aftermath, when the endorphins fade and reality shoves it face in their heads…once again.

Men tend to see life as a series of statistics…as in they don’t want to become one. The divorce rate is sky high, so it’s a marginal-at-best investment. To protect themselves, they tend to withhold in an effort to stem the flood of personal information onto the streets when things fall apart. Women, on the other hand, are never perceived with any level of disdain no matter what a men say about them; unless, of course, they’re crack whore with 3 social security numbers…and even then…

It’s a double standard and one that society continues to accept.
    
In the end, it may be that men need to feel more control over their lives in order to – for example - have sex at all. Fundamentally, it is they who must achieve and maintain an erection [not to mention orgasm on demand] and one that Viagra won’t take care of if there are intimacy conflicts in the relationship.

This is a tough one.

How do men continue to feel like men, perform like men, and feel good about themselves, when women are asking them to be excruciatingly vulnerable – or as men see it – weak? The men I know with the best marriages have clearly-delineated role boundaries. Again, we get back to my earlier arguments against pure egalitarianism.
   
In fifty years we may not be having this conversation, but today we must look at it in order to find common ground.  

My bottom line theory:

If men want to watch porn, let them do it. If not, you may find them in bed being the man you always wanted – WITH SOMEONE ELSE. Not that I should have to remind you, but these are things one discusses before they marry; including your fantasy of 3 kids and a home in suburbia.

Your man will NOT change. And any attempt to do so will undermine your relationship. People aren’t perfect, and no matter what you read in women’s magazines, no one is always and forever coming clean on every single solitary detail of their lives. This doesn’t mean that your man is screwing a stripper on the side, but he may be watching porn - if for no other reason - than to escape the interrogation. You are not going to answer all of their prayers. Get that notion out of your heads. Sometimes, they just want 15 minutes of mind-numbing erotica. 
                    
In the end, women need to understand that feeling powerful is a uniquely male need. And women who want to keep their men will learn to embrace this fact of life. You cannot deconstruct a man and then rebuild him to suit your needs.
 
If you do not accept the fundamental tenets of my argument, your inevitable passive-aggression - and HIS porn - will become the defining conflicts in your marriage.  

Sex and Insanity Explored

I don’t know about you, but the hottest sex I’ve ever had was with women who, arguably, belonged in mental hospitals. Talk about the absence of boundaries, propriety, grace. These individuals put a new spin on the term, “primal urge.”

In short, whatever isn’t resolved outside the bedroom manifests itself between the sheets. You think you know the ropes. Try taming a woman who suddenly morphs into something resembling the female creature in the “Species” series.

You might find yourself limping out of these situations bruised and bleeding…but one could never miss the delirious smile on your face. If sex were meant to be intellectualized, the planet would be run by apes. There is always a tinge of insanity in the human sex act, and even the most benign sexual episode can – in some - elicit a certain embarrassment…as in the “OMG! Did my wife just do that?!…sort of way.

But for the marginally sane, it never ends. They’re always medicating, escaping…running. And if endorphins happen to be within reach, you better prepare for battle.

Personally, I recommend that guys wear some form of athletic shoes that provide solid traction in the event of an unexpected assault. In addition, Sports Authority stores carry a comfortable selection of knee and elbow pads. To protect the face from bites, I suggest gardening gloves with tiny rubber knobs on the underside for gripping sheets, pillows and sexual objects; both human and otherwise.

Some guys I know keep “tasers” near the bed in the event of a complete psychotic breakdown, but one might also consider something less obtrusive, like a propellant of mace or pepper spray. 

In the end, experiences with such individuals will leave impressions that last a lifetime, [like, say, bungee jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge – without the cord]…but they might also have a dampening effect on more stable relationships with women who’ve never heard the word, Lithium.

In life, one must always consider Newton’s Third Law of Motion: “For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.”    

Psychopharmacology and You…or, Why is My Girlfriend Eating My Curtains?

For those of you who believe that psychiatry is - at best – an inexact science, and that psychotrophic drugs do more harm than good, help yourself to the following links: Beyond the Psychiatric Box, Bipolar Blast, Bipolar Crisis or Just Waking Up?, BPD in OKC, Georgia Mental Health Consumer Network, Mental Health Recovery Ministries, Nuts R Us, Off Label, Psych Watch and Shrink Rap…to name a few.  The aforementioned detractors notwithstanding, I think that a more valid argument is one that favors the drugs….and the clinicians that both monitor their use and outcome. Whether or not we care to admit it, if it weren’t for the drugs, there would be no “outpatient’ psychiatric care; more commonly known as the Thursday morning chat with the shrink…before yoga. It would be more like “in-house arrest.” The people we see walking around us might otherwise be incapable of connecting with enough reality to justify their leaving without a chain attached to their ankles.  

Yes, otherwise complete lunatics walk among us due to the effects of psychotrophic drugs.  So now you know why so many people are just a little off, in spite of the mitigating effects of the drugs. But drugs alone are no panacea. One must also be willing to admit - and then explore – solutions to the problems in the first place. But without the drugs, the shrink might just as well be talking to a chimpanzee. 

Making matters worse are those who – against strict orders -  supplement their diets with large quantities of alcohol and “illegal” substances, which tend to turn a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor or anti-psychotic medication into a walking train wreck. That many don’t even stay on their prescribed schedules is yet another problem. Regardless, they’re lucky not to have landed their butts back in the 19^th century or they’d resemble Jack Nicholson in “One Flew Over the Cookoo’s Nest[not the 19th century, but it makes the point].”      Personally, I think that disputing the validity of psychiatry and its battery of mind-altering drugs is a lot like calling religious people delusional. If drugs work for some and religion for others, what’s the problem?  The fact is psychiatry is much like rocket science. We try to build a spaceship that will safely get us off this planet and onto another, but in order to do this we must accept the existence of certain principals of aerodynamics and physics that exist –whether we like them or not. Conversely, in order to get a handle on why some people believe that they have attended field trips with Jesus Christ, or that they are, say, chickens, we have to first understand why they believe this in the first place.  

In short, unless these individuals were raised by wolves- or had anything to do with alien-human experiments near Roswell, New Mexico - would the business of these “field trips” ever come up? I doubt it. But these are questions one must consider. And don’t even get me started on the whole “72 virgin’s thing.”  Yes, we dope ourselves. We dope our kids. We spend a lot of time in therapy. And, yes, we are predisposed to all of this because we have learned to expect a quick fix…for everything. So no, I’m not going to spend the next ten years of my life reading and practicing Scientology in an effort to circumvent the use of drugs or therapy if the drugs and therapy work faster. And if I have a choice between either obsessing over certain communication problems between Adam and Eve, or just taking a serotonin reuptake inhibitor - I’m taking the goddamned drug! I don’t have the luxury of a thousand years on this planet to waste thinking about this crap.  

Science is a good thing. And by the way, I can’t remember the last time I heard one of these detractors complain about Valium or Xanax…not to mention a good Beefeater’s and tonic…extra lime, please. They bitch about the other stuff: Prozac, Zoloft, Paxil, Wellbutrin. Why? Because they’re easier targets. The results are more complex, and it gives them something to do. These are the same people who bitch about our spending too much money on space travel. Of course, they won’t be complaining when we run out of natural resources around here and have to start mining on Mars…or what about deflecting those monstrous asteroids? I’m going with the space program, and they are as well…they just won’t admit it.  Concurrently, they’re also very pleased with the fact that drugs like Lithium exist; particularly when it keeps lunatics from eating their children.  

The bottom line here is, yes, we should question the use and efficacy of psychotrophic medications and the therapist who prescribe them, as well as challenge everything else we confront in our lives. Life is fast, complex and difficult to assimilate without effort. For many people, however, the luxury [not to mention predisposition and/or aptitude] of exploring all of this simply doesn’t exist…and problems arise when their reaction to little Johnnie’s hyperactivity is to medicate rather than deal with his feelings of estrangement because there is no parent at home [see previous blog].   We can’t have it all. We can’t have it all. I REPEAT. WE CAN’T HAVE IT ALL! And, by the way, the aforementioned people in the space business aren’t immune to any of this, either, as they fly out into space drunk, or drive down to Florida to “confront” someone while in the possession of trash bags, duct tape, a buzz-saw and a shovel.     We’re all in this together. We all struggle in our own way. No one is immune to what surrounds us. And in spite of all the hissy fits, I think we all know this. So go back to your yoga classes and shut the fuck up.  

On Your Knees, Mr. CEO!

[above photo was randomly pulled from the web for illustration purposes, only]   

Why do I have to explain to a guy with two PHD’s that the “wonderful woman” he’s dating is a hooker? Because he doesn’t want to believe that he’s dating a hooker, that’s why. In his mind, she’s just a beautiful young student trying to make a better life for herself…and the fact that he’s twice her age merely underscores her intellectual and emotional maturity.

I can’t run around like those guys in helicopters over swollen river beds, rescuing people from the ravages of their own delusions. But I swear that when I look them in the face I see nothing but darkness. It’s as though they died a week ago and this is what’s left. Nobody home, PHD’s notwithstanding.

How about a school for common sense?

But a lot of this is self-inflicted. I’m convinced that on some base level, these guys know I’m right. But they shove it out, opting instead for the metaphoric heroin that delivers a high greater than any reality they know [or care to know].

In short, there is a perverse collusion between the whore and her John, wherein he pretends she’s someone other than who she is, in exchange for a string of false accolades, outcome-based sexual performance, and safe haven for his debilitating issues regarding intimacy.If this were a script, a voice-over would read: “You can have my common sense as long as I get a human version of those rubberized vaginas; including the one’s that vibrate.”

Fundamentally, the vulnerability is, in and of itself, seductive, because it is something foreign to these men. Any dominatrix will tell you that the majority of her client base are wealthy, powerful men who are unable to reveal any trace of weakness; either in the board room…or at home. As human beings, we must find an outlet for the things that define us as human, but not everyone has the freedom to run around cross-examining people on their psychiatric predilections, like me.

Whatever the reason [s], I’m sick of running rescue missions…even as a close friend lies “dying” in the hands of a hardened predator hell-bent on doping him into permanent unconsciousness.

The fact is, unless and until a person admits that they are powerless to overcome whatever it is that’s eating them alive, no 12-step program in the world will make a damn bit of difference.
        
This is ironic, however, given the fact that Houston hosts one the country’s largest populations of strippers; all of whom would make better companions than the women who choose to keep their real identities under wraps. But you guys are junkies for the illusions, and that gets back to the whole 12-step thing, which is your problem.

I’m just the messenger, here.
 

Men Race to Exploit Feminism’s Financial Rewards

Do I believe that women in relationships - married or otherwise - can be successful at adopting roles traditional to men? Yes. I believe that roles divide, and thus, enable the perpetuity of all relationships; human or otherwise.

I know several men who are, have been – or desire to be - househusbands to financially successful women engaged in demanding careers. They want to stay home, take care of the kids, manage the household…and cook. And if there is news in any of this, it is the fact that a new world order is in the making. 

Whether or not there is a biological component to a woman’s desire to be domestic is beside the point. If, for whatever reason, she chooses not to do so, she should find a man who will. That is, unless career outweighs the children’s emotional outcome. Child-care complexes, nannies and summer camps are like handing your kids to a pack of wolves and then expecting them to connect with you at the end of the day. Even my cats are weird after I return from a week’s long vacation. Imaging 15 years of this.   

So, now that we’ve established the fact that a primary parent needs to be at home with the kids, the new message is…

“I no longer feel competitive with my wife just because she has a job and, obviously, earns more than I do. In fact, I wish she would work harder and longer so I could buy more Tupperware…”

This is beautiful, isn’t it? Today, women who want rewarding careers AND family can pursue their dreams full-throttle as their husbands stay at home, encouraging their speeches, deadlines and grueling international travel schedules – as long as it if it leads to a raise.

And by the way, girls, their numbers are on the rise, so get ready. All of this, courtesy of the same misandric crew who sold you down the river with all the other rhetoric designed to alienate you from your gender. 

Not long ago, I was speaking with a woman about her past relationship, which she described at the time as a-typical. Interestingly, she once came home from work and found her boyfriend “sitting on the floor of their master bathroom painting his toenails.”  Honestly, I was delighted with this news. She seemed somewhat less enthused.

Anyway, With the rise of the “super-woman,” men are jumping on the gravy-train in droves; something I’ve always felt was long overdue.

“Please, Dear God, Betty…get out there, bust your ass…and bring home the bacon. We need college tuition for these kids…the same kids I’M HOME RAISING! And no, you’re not better than me just because I’m home while you’re out in the world making a living. It’s a bitch raising kids. You should try it sometime…”

Egalitarianism looks good on paper; in essays and articles in women’s magazines. But in reality, it’s about as probable as getting two bulls to commit sodomy. This is because it’s a fantasy much like the Cinderella one, foisted on little girls from the time they leave the womb. 

In relationships there is always power exchange, but note the operative word, “exchange.” By this I mean…

“You are responsible for this, while I’m responsible for that…”  As opposed to “we are both ‘equal and responsible for the same damn things’[the big egalitarian lie]. And by the way, I’m not 110% pleased with the fact that you out-earn me, [as our children forget our names], and the, uh, sex thing is getting kind of weird, because, like, I’m not used to a woman, without a penis, trying to penetrate me with her attitude.”

How this will all play out, I don’t know. But what I do know is that estrogen and testosterone have no consciousness of human role play…and have been responsible for more wars than I can count.

Stay tuned…     

So Much Fear…Even More Projection

As we get older, one of the many lessons we learn is that people are NOT necessarily what they appear to be. For example, a beautifully sculpted dancer may not be a pathological narcissist or consummate bitch with a 3-foot veneer, anymore than an attractive man with a personality is conceited, sociopathic and/or intimacy avoidant.

In fact, the “definitions” are hidden entirely…until these individuals act. It is solely through their actions that they define themselves. And while taking into consideration certain comments, conjecture, speculation and hearsay put forth by others regarding these individuals, it is of the utmost importance to be very clear about the underlying motives of their detractors. People routinely block the consummation of relationships out of jealousy, envy and, perhaps, remorse.

I say this because I believe that people are – first and foremost – opportunistic. In short, I am not a subscriber to the “glass half full” mentality. I do not automatically confer upon anyone the benefit of the doubt. I remain impassive, vigilant, engaged, and observant. However, if I do not understand certain comments, motives or actions, I do not rush to judge, but rather engage them in discussion in an effort to understand their origins. This is why my friendships are actually real, rather than figments of some misplaced imagination. They are often demanding, routinely multi-faceted and always fulfilling.

Though I’m rarely inaccurate in my appraisal of people, including myself, I do have tremendous compassion, empathy and a burning desire to understand what makes people who they are.

In the context of dating [after the age of, say 30], this is serious business. Things begin to matter more than they did back in the days when beer, sand dunes and sunrises were all that mattered. And the higher up the food chain a dating candidate happens to be, the commensurately larger target they present.

People grow more jaded and desperate over time. Though they hammer themselves into oblivion with the hackneyed mantra “I don’t need someone to complete me,’ they usually do…and that’s not because there is something inherently wrong with them, but because we are human beings; hard-wired to bond…and their time is running out.

The moral of this [very brief] Monday morning article is really quite simple: “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”  

My 96 Hours on Match Dot Com

I spend a lot of time online…writing, researching, and interacting. And cyberspace is an interesting place to do it, because it provides safe haven for intimate, personal expression that might otherwise [in real life] remain hidden in innuendo and passive-aggression. With this in mind, let’s take a look at one of the world’s largest fantasy networks, Matchdotcom. From a guy’s perspective, this is a place where women cut bullshit to the bone and get down to business.
  
For most people who’ve been around the block a few times, dating sucks; particularly when you’re already have a day job and the prospect of interviewing another in an endless series of cyber applicants feels more like a Human Resources position than a romantic interlude. And then there’s the stigma attached to anyone who posts an online profile, excluding networking sits like Myspace, wherein dating isn’t the primary focus. From a man’s erspective, if a woman has so much going for her, why does she need an online profile in the first place? She is either misrepresenting her physical attributes, or she’s insane…or both. After all, most REALLY attractive woman can’t even get out of Kroger in one piece without being trampled by aggressive males, business cards in hand. In fact, I know women who - in an effort to avoid harassment - must keep their eyes diverted from all human contact, while at the same time conveying a certain confidence that marginally skirts the impression of anger.

So, again, why would a woman with so much going for her post an online profile? The answer is surprisingly simple: BECAUSE SHE HASN’T MET “THE ONE” IN REAL LIFE - IN SPITE OF THE STAMPEDE - AND HAS THE GUTS TO GO FOR IT IN FULL VIEW OF THE WORLD, THAT’S WHY.

Just because someone is attractive doesn’t mean that the connection she seeks is standing at her front door. Sure Match is filled to the brink with women I would probably never date, but I admire people who put themselves out there for something they want. It’s refreshing, really. Not that they’re necessarily what YOU want, but it isn’t about you, Jack.

The primary allure of sites like Match is that - from a notebook anywhere in the world - a woman can search a database of millions of men, while subdividing them into categories [personality, physical characteristics, education, a better set of genetics, etc...] without apology or fear of reprisal. This doesn’t always work, because the fantasy of getting exactly what you want just because you qualify your specific desires in writing is still a fantasy. But given the numbers, the metaphor of supermarket shopping is just too irresistible to ignore.

My first day on Match left me with a throbbing headache and a poor night’s sleep.  The idea of slicing and dicing humanity was just a little too brutal…even for me. There was a sociopathic edge to it all that made me feel like someone was trying to sell me something I knew nothing about. Each ad read like a billboard. All of these fantasies are strung out into cyberspace like schools of fish all marching to the same survival mechanism, but each with a slightly different approach to staying alive in a world of predators. Phrases like “glass half full, live life to the fullest, happy and dependable, stable and drama-free…u b 2″ read like highway billboards for a local SPCA. In fact, it can make a person feel kind of lifeless after a while; the way photos of people are crammed together like newspaper obituaries. “This was my life. This was how I felt. These were my family and friends. Click for an extended tour.”
 
So I clicked…and clicked and clicked and clicked…until, on the fourth day, I stopped.
 
Why???

Because I ran across a woman who reminded me of myself, and it knocked the wind out of me. I was here to explore…never expecting to find anyone remotely compelling, beyond some fodder for my writing.  But there she was. I wrote her a brief letter and promptly resigned; because I wanted the fantasy [the one I created based on some words and a single photograph] to live on and on and on.

This is Jay, the romantic. What the hell was wrong with me? Not much. I’m just a passionate man with an active imagination and a desire to connect. Would this cyber incarnation been “the one?” I don’t know. Would we have had many things in common, based on her “resume,” and online tenor? Yes. And the truth is, people not only find employment this way, but they also occasionally find a mate.
     
There is a lesson in all of this; and one which makes it - and all of its emotional side-effects - worthwhile: The only life you live is your own. If you believe in your dreams, pursue them and they will find you…     

A Rant…unedited…

On men…

Just as men were getting used to coiffing and interacting with women on a more “sensitive” level,  we are suddenly reassigned to the hunting and fishing department, with a license to kill each other at the drop of a hat.

So what happened to the NEW MAN? Did women just get sick and tired of having the same grueling conversations with their lovers they had with their female friends? Were the boundaries getting just a tad too out of focus? Or was it the negative effect it was having on their men’s sexual performance? In a society hell-bent on pure egalitarianism, somebody’s going to get their ass kicked, and given our record of spousal abuse, suicide, divorce and infidelity, I’d say we both did.  In other parts of the world, men and women accept - and embrace - their differences. Men feel like men. Women fel like women. Everyone’s happy. Here, we demand unconditional “equality” as though it were a birthright…but on what planet? Why is it not okay to simply accept the fact that men and women are different? Why do we continue fighting about this?    
 
On survival…

In related news, I’ve never seen so many neo-thugs in my life, particularly at bars. Martial arts classes are everywhere. Steroid use is no longer a news item. And what better way to show off the effects of synthetic testosterone than flexing those rigid, “Bowflex” bodies in cheesy shrink-wrapped, rock-star regalia, sold everywhere, including places like Wal-Mart. And, of course, one must add the overkill of personal adornments like jewelry, tattoos, and bullet-proof SUV’s. Couple this with a penchant for violence, and you have an accurate picture of the new American male. Everybody happy?
Road rage is commonplace. Fights only end when someone dies. Everyone feels invisible, empty. Values today cannot any longer be felt; particularly when what we value is inanimate. How can anyone feel anything when nothing comes from inside? Is it simply no longer important how we feel? What we think? How much we share? Who we are, without the superficial bullshit? How many people have the guts to be anything other than a persona? Just for the fun of it, try asking some random guy a really personal question, like “Um, how do you feel about woman-as-whore in our society?”

On lies…

How dare you hold someone’s feet to the fire on their obvious duplicity. They’re just VICTIMS of something!!! They had a tough childhood. No one paid enough attention to them. Whatever.   And no, I don’t expect some jacked-up 28 year old “roid” junkie to give a shit how anybody – but himself – feels about anything…including his lies. And that goes for the women who randomly screw him, just because they feel valueless otherwise. But at the end of the day, we’re ALL alone, including the idiot with the nylon muscle shirt and 38 caliber pistol shoved down his pants. Our society needs to get a handle on its obsession with mindless superficiality and Warhol’s “15 minutes of fame” mantra; a telling allusion that continues to pop up, ad nauseum.

On misogyny…

Are many men today misogynists? Yes, of course they’re misogynists. And if you asked them to explain their position, they would just throw down the gauntlet and walk away. Why? Because they don’t fully understand it themselves. Most people don’t have the time or inclination to sit around and think about cultural nuance – and how it might impact their lives. All they know is that they’re confused, and when you’re wired to hunt, confusion isn’t a good idea. But women are also complicit in this perverse passion-play. Pick up your remote and watch them gyrate their bulbous asses like animals under overpasses during mating season? I hate to preach about values, but ours are in the tank. Then again, I guess if you value your Gucci handbag more than you do your feelings of alienation, then I suppose one can justify becoming whatever the season dictates.

In conclusion…

If WOMEN are responsible for exploiting men’s fragile egos; the same egos that occasionally ignite world wars, was Michael Douglas correct in stating that “women are a lot smarter, and they don’t play fair…”???
 
Neitzsche once said, “There are women who, however you may search them, prove to have no content but are purely masks. The man who associates with such almost spectral, necessarily unsatisfied beings is to be commiserated with, yet it is precisely they who are able to arouse the desire of the man most strongly: he seeks for her soul — and goes on seeking.”

The moral of the story is, men do not know how to shut down the mechanism that kick-starts the predation process. They just feel the wind in their faces as the target nears. What they also fail to grasp is that they are not alone in the hunt; that others will challenge their dominance. They may also face opposition from the prey itself. But adrenaline is the pilot, consequences be damned.
    
This scenario is not unlike what one might find at a bar; the archetypal food-chain template. Again, we find the alpha male pursuing his target with offerings of drinks, coupled with an endless iteration of his wealth and accomplishments, and his predisposition to sharing it. 

This man, like most in this context, is an idiot. 

The women he pursues size him up as an opportunist devoid of dignity, poise, self-respect or tact; therefore useless in the scheme of things. He believes that by herding his “goats” in front of them, they will find his riches reflective of the fundamental qualities all women seek in men: Strength, courage, power, security. But women have learned the art of urban survival, and will simply take his offerings and move on. He will be just one in a long line of suitors prepared to risk everything for a projected fantasy; and, perhaps, one that may turn out to be a step higher on the food chain.

I’m getting a headache…back later, after this meteorological apocalypse is over.

Wouldn’t want to fry these hard-drives.

On Life and “Settling…” or Being and Nothingness, Disputed

Some of us have a tougher time than others finding mates. It isn’t about the way we look, or health problems, handicaps and/or financial disarray. It’s about who we are inside; the part people fear most when choosing a mate. It’s the part that is indefinable… “Gray,” if you will. The daily news is always catastrophic. Serial killers are discovered to be otherwise normal men leading normal lives. Then there are the expected beatings, rapes, crimes of passion, and on and on. We become so suspicious of others – so jaded - that the only thing we ask of life is that our partners be stable and predictable.
 
Then what? We’re bored out of our minds.

I hate math, but it is often useful when trying to home-run a point. Hypothetically, let’s say a given city has a population of one million people. Of that, 30 percent fall in the 30 to 55 range. Of that, 50 percent are single. Add Bachelor’s degrees, and we’re down to about 75 thousand people. Okay, so let’s say we also want the candidate to be “fit.” Given general population statistics wherein upwards of 80 percent of people are considered overweight, you’re down to 6000 people. Now, you have to divide the sexes. If the ratio of men to women is 1 to 1, the figure is now 3000 women. Of that sector, one must physically encounter or otherwise locate – and meet - that individual, who must be stable, educated, fit, and yes, interested. Yup. They ALSO have to be interested. You don’t just club someone, drag them home and take possession of their lives.

And did I mention psychopathology?

Even if you did club someone and drag them home, you might regret having done so as your life beings to disintegrate around you.In short, the way this thing is supposed to work runs contrary to the way it does work. My parents met in college. Today, one might meet many prospective mates while in college, but marriage is the very last thing on people’s minds as they go out into the world to make their stand. The assumption here is that they have lots of time to deal with the “marriage thing” and “kids.” In this context, both sound more like something one might purchase at Target.
 
So time just goes on doing what time does…pass.

So here we are at mid-life and it’s dead silent. Sure we’ve accumulated wealth and security. And yes, we have a cadre of close friends, family and a pet or two…just to assert our ability to achieve intimacy…even if it’s with another species. But what about the human “mate” thing? The thing we said we had plenty of time to find way back in college? Now it’s like a second job finding it, and it’s proving to be a lot tougher than the first one; the one that just gobbled up 20 years of your life.

Look around. The divorce rate is staggering. Why is this? I thought everything was supposed to just fall into place?
Here’s what happened: We marginalized ourselves. We’re too educated, too affluent, too self-aware, narcissistic, conceited, cynical…and delusional. Not that I’m being critical or anything, but we just catalyzed a society of functional sociopaths.
 
Everyone is super-imposed onto a sanity template, then processed through some e-Harmony compatibility scale, which guarantees that “someone will love you for who you really are…”  Have we really lost it this badly? Who’s paying attention to this insanity? We’re all in therapy. We’re all medicated [including our children]. We’re certainly all sedated. And I’m convinced many people I’ve dated are escapees from psychiatric hospitals.
 
What happened to the thoughts about life we shared back in college? What happened to us? Who are we? Where are we in the scheme of things? 65 year olds date 27 year olds. Three marriages are commonplace. The whereabouts and well-being of children remain uncertain, as we stay focused on ourselves…and our well-being. Never mind that your kid just walked into a middle school and shot 27 people at close range. Oh, was that MY kid?

This is called free-association, and it’s what my therapist and I do every Thursday afternoon. I just accumulate all this crap and then dump it on her to decipher, while I rest my head on the cool, leather couch and dream about all the wonderful women I pushed aside in favor of fleeting sexuality and the pursuit of money, fame and power. Good thing I can afford people like her, weekly-boot camps with a personal trainer, in-home massage, and big airplanes to take me away when I’m about to split in two…