Do you hate Celine Dion as much as I do?
I was reading a blog entry today by a comic book artist, about when he and his girlfriend (also a comic book artist) met a more famous comic book writer at a convention.
Sounds like a great opportunity, right?
Except that the famous comic book writer decided he wanted to get with the less famous comic book artist's girlfriend. So she promptly threw the less famous artist out like yesterday's coffee grounds, to get with the more famous guy.
Why did she do this?
Why does a dog lick his balls?
Because he can.
I believe that beautiful women have little or no ability to love anyone other than themselves. Why? Because they don't have to. My friend Joe Willy blames construction workers and the stereotypical hooting they unleash whenever a woman walks by. But it's really all men.
I have long held that any woman can walk into any bar on any night, and be 100 percent assured of leaving with a man. The same cannot be said for a man. Why? Because not every woman in a bar is looking to get laid. Every man is.
So, women develop the attitude that they can always be shopping for the next best thing, like a monkey jumping from tree to tree, always hoping to land in the biggest tree with the most bananas. And beautiful women think you should put up with whatever psycho shit they exhibit, because if you don't, there's a line of men at the door, behind the velvet rope, waiting for bouncer to wave them in, as if her vagina was Studio 54.
But, are they looking for the next guy to be kinder, gentler, and more understanding than the last?
Nope. As indicated by the artist's girlfriend, she was only interested in what the writer was, not who he was.
For a more extreme example, take Anna Nicole Smith. As my always-ready-with-a-great-line friend Joe Willy said, "One must assume that at least once, she had sex with that 90-year-old liver spot." What could such a beautiful young woman see in such a decrepit old man?
$$$$$$$$
What he was, rather than who he was.
Which brings me to Titanic. I have often (well, maybe not often, but once in a while) wondered why girls loved this romantic tale so much that they would see it a dozen or more times? After all, the guy she loves dies in the end.
And then it struck me: Girls loved it because the guy she loves dies in the end.
It's the perfect love story: Beautiful young woman of privilege meets rough-around-the-edges Irish guy, has wild, passionate sex in the back seat of a car, and then can say good-bye with no regrets (because he's DEAD!) before she has to move past the cardboard cutout image she has of him, and has to face who he really is: an uneducated loser. A loser who, upon reaching the USA will be disappointed in the promised land when he's forced to take some menial job digging coal or shoveling shit to support his family, begins to drink too much, gets fat and bald, and then dies by middle age of heart disease and a body broken by too much physical labor.
Instead, she can jump to the next tree, and move on with fond memories, and no regrets.
Too bad all those movie watchers' real boyfriends can't just die when they decide it's time to brachiate* to the next tree.
*Credit where credit is due: My friend Joe Willy supplied the word "brachiate," so I thought I should give him credit, as he is truly my Richie Sambora.
Sounds like a great opportunity, right?
Except that the famous comic book writer decided he wanted to get with the less famous comic book artist's girlfriend. So she promptly threw the less famous artist out like yesterday's coffee grounds, to get with the more famous guy.
Why did she do this?
Why does a dog lick his balls?
Because he can.
I believe that beautiful women have little or no ability to love anyone other than themselves. Why? Because they don't have to. My friend Joe Willy blames construction workers and the stereotypical hooting they unleash whenever a woman walks by. But it's really all men.
I have long held that any woman can walk into any bar on any night, and be 100 percent assured of leaving with a man. The same cannot be said for a man. Why? Because not every woman in a bar is looking to get laid. Every man is.
So, women develop the attitude that they can always be shopping for the next best thing, like a monkey jumping from tree to tree, always hoping to land in the biggest tree with the most bananas. And beautiful women think you should put up with whatever psycho shit they exhibit, because if you don't, there's a line of men at the door, behind the velvet rope, waiting for bouncer to wave them in, as if her vagina was Studio 54.
But, are they looking for the next guy to be kinder, gentler, and more understanding than the last?
Nope. As indicated by the artist's girlfriend, she was only interested in what the writer was, not who he was.
For a more extreme example, take Anna Nicole Smith. As my always-ready-with-a-great-line friend Joe Willy said, "One must assume that at least once, she had sex with that 90-year-old liver spot." What could such a beautiful young woman see in such a decrepit old man?
$$$$$$$$
What he was, rather than who he was.
Which brings me to Titanic. I have often (well, maybe not often, but once in a while) wondered why girls loved this romantic tale so much that they would see it a dozen or more times? After all, the guy she loves dies in the end.
And then it struck me: Girls loved it because the guy she loves dies in the end.
It's the perfect love story: Beautiful young woman of privilege meets rough-around-the-edges Irish guy, has wild, passionate sex in the back seat of a car, and then can say good-bye with no regrets (because he's DEAD!) before she has to move past the cardboard cutout image she has of him, and has to face who he really is: an uneducated loser. A loser who, upon reaching the USA will be disappointed in the promised land when he's forced to take some menial job digging coal or shoveling shit to support his family, begins to drink too much, gets fat and bald, and then dies by middle age of heart disease and a body broken by too much physical labor.
Instead, she can jump to the next tree, and move on with fond memories, and no regrets.
Too bad all those movie watchers' real boyfriends can't just die when they decide it's time to brachiate* to the next tree.
*Credit where credit is due: My friend Joe Willy supplied the word "brachiate," so I thought I should give him credit, as he is truly my Richie Sambora.
posted by James Hitchcock at 7:45 PM
2 Comments:
Biff,
In mating, two (and only two) things matter: survival value (SV) and replication value (RV). If you have low SV, you will probably not be chosen to mate with, because you may not possess the ability to protect yourself, let alone, protect offspring. If you have low RV, you will probably not be chosen to mate with, because of the perceived lack of ability to produce healthy offspring.
In modern civilizations, people should not have to select for SV or RV, even though our brains are still hardwired to do so. You can still see it in modern mating behaviours: men select for high RV (generally perceiving beauty and a large chest as symbolic of success in replication) and women select for high SV (generally perceiving physical strength and prestige as symbolic of success in survival).
While we are highly socialized beings, we generally cannot transcend tens of thousands of years of biological programming. I am an intelligent man, yet am still irrestibily drawn to physical beauty first and foremost. Likewise, women have earned their reputation as mercenaries because of the same (outdated) biological software which motives us in almost every aspect of life.
I understand your frustration with women, but put yourself in their shoes for a moment: you have literally hundreds of men solicit their affections on a daily basis... how do you make the choice? You may be the greatest man who has ever smiled and said 'hello' to a woman... how is she supposed to know?
Even once she has had a chance to know you... do you really stand out that much compared to other men she has dated? For most men, the answer is going to be (brutally) no. The man with bigger muscles, a fatter wallet or more prestige is going to speak to her on a deeper, more biological level, than being nice may ever be able to.
Can some complete stranger swoop in and seduce your girlfriend or wife? Yes. I am ashamed to admit it, but by the time I was 25, I had already been a participant in the break-up of two marriages. And as soon as the woman found somebody with more SV than me, she left me like she left her husband. You can't let it effect your self-esteem... it just shows that you may need to recalibrate yourself a little to become more like the valued individual that you believe yourself to be. (And if you don't have any self worth, fake it until personality becomes congruent with your act. It will.)
You don't have to be super macho, rich or a rock-star to demonstrate high value to women. What you do need to do, however, is dedicate yourself to not just being yourself, but rather, being your best self. It can be done. I can help (ask Matt). Email me...
PS. Celine Dion blows donkey cock.
You are, of course (and as usual), 100 percent on. But, this piece is not so much about me(currently), as I seem to have found a woman who is both physically attractive, and yet loves me for who I am, rather than what I am. (Although I won't be taking her to any comics conventions ...)
The gist of this piece is: "what" versus "who." It amazes me that women claim over and over that they want a "sensitive man," (who) and yet at the same time will choose someone "who" is generally abusive, or doesn't meet their emotional needs, if is he "what" they want, i.e., a doctor, lawyer, or successful businessman (high SV).
I wouldn't feel ashamed about your part in breaking up two marriages. They were not your marriages to break up. I think that the psycho-babblers are right in that women and men cheat for different reasons, and I think women cheat for exactly the reason I pointed out above: They chose "what," and then found they needed "who," but were unwilling to give up the status and lifestyle the "what" provided.
As Joe Willy pointed out to me recently, Feminism is wrong: you can't have it all. You can't be both wildly successful in business AND be a caring, loving person. The SV skills needed in business are diametrically opposed to those of a caring person. (although one could argue that the capacity to love is a different form of SV - or RV - developed by those who did not have the physical SV to keep a mate in the relationship)
Your commentary merely strengthens my point that the more beautiful a woman is, the less she is capable of loving someone else. But, as I said in my comment on the blog I linked to, this is also true of high SV/RV Adonis-men. The higher a man's SV, the less his ability to love other people. But then he doesn't have to love other people,because they will stay with him whether he does or not.
In a way, the marriage of two people with very high SVs is a match made in heaven, as neither is capable of loving anyone other than themselves.
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