It’s amazing how a little encounter with someone who has a preconceived notion of how you are supposed to be can make you feel… Here be a rant. Excuse the language and the questionable science.
KISSING MY ASS
Hello, I am a forty-year old man. And I am a pussy. Not a simple pussy. I am a complex pussy. I am a raging, hormone-driven, slightly-trimmed pussy who is nevertheless indispensable to the world, to our future, to everything that we have built and hope to build: I am Modern Man, and you need to hear what I have to say.
HYPOTHESES
Men. Are we men? Has a woman ever accused you of not being a man in the traditional sense of the word? Has a woman ever put you down for what you like, why you like it, for being something other than a high school dropout blue collar handyman who loves his hammer so much that it’s halfway up his ass? Well, I don’t think we should stand for this. Modern Man has silently embraced his evolution. His fate. And we should stand up for what we have become.
The Lament of the Modern Woman Hypothesis: modern man is emasculated, wimpy, unable to man up or down or in any other direction.
My Counter-Proposal: and you were expecting what exactly? Did you just wake up and realize this, dimwad? I thought girls were smarter than this.
My Hypothesis: I, Modern Man, am a product of evolution, the shining star that Darwin envisioned. I am the end of the chain. And I am a pussy. And guess what? That is okay. It is exactly what was supposed to happen.
MY EVOLUTIONARY PATH: A NOTE TO THE GIRLS WHO THINK I’M A WIMP
I want to tell you about me – Mr. Modern Man. This is me. And I’m proud of me.
You see, I am a warrior of 6am to 6pm work followed by a pita in the car on the way to dance practice, and then a frantic fumbling with the missus on the king-size while each of us listen to the baby monitor and make sure we don’t go past 9:30 pm. I may not be able to fix the washing machine, but I can bring down a small country with my keyboard. That’s the type of man I am. That’s where my evolution has taken me. You don’t like my leather tie and my stubble? Well don’t get too close, this stubble’s been groomed to a point and yes, that’s not the only thing groomed around here.
It doesn’t matter what people say, Modern Man is a product of evolution and is continuing to evolve, and that is actually a good thing, so if I want to sing along to Arcade Fire, I will do so at the top of my lungs. Playing it loud, because Modern Man is still king of the clan, still master of his domain, and a little vanilla syrup in my coffee doesn’t mean that I won’t plow my woman (or man) like a freight train until the cows come home. And then eat the cow bloody raw.
And guess what, yes I’m a pussy, a great big pussy who isn’t afraid of the word, who loves the word, who relishes the word, who wears that big bad word around my neck like it’s the badge of the Modern Man: Pussy Man, roaring like a savage as I shape my ironic beard with the latest ointments and oils. I smell good. I hate sweat. And I BLARE Total Eclipse of the Heart in my hot yellow Audi because I can feel the bass in my whiskers.
You don’t like my sensitivities? Look, I got emotions, and we got to stop suppressing the truth, that men can’t be sensitive and still be men. Last I saw, crying during Twilight doesn’t mean my penis will fall off, any more than watching Die Hard gives you a boner, girl. This is not gender slagging, it’s about gender fulfillment, the ongoing journey of a promise that was made by our man genes, a natural progression towards harmony and a happy household – what’s so wrong with that? I will buy the Christmas presents. I will comb my little girl’s hair. But does that mean I won’t fuck up the next guy that gives me attitude in an on-line first-person shooter? Hell no.
I am the explorer of the internet, the inventor of the automobile, I am the first man on the moon – and I did it all while sitting on a yoga mat. I am a deep sea diver, a shark tamer, and yes I am not a lumberjack anymore, but guess what, killing trees is bad. I will play my Abba at max volume, and if the neighbors object to the noise, I WILL invite them over for some red wine and a game of parcheese (whatever the fuck that is), and when I go to start my car and it doesn’t turn over, I will IMMEDIATELY call AAA to come and fix it, because the last time I tried to check my oil level, I got a burn off my muffler. And besides that, we live in an age of specialization where people are trained to do certain things far better than I am – yes, we have actually grown up since those precious hunter/gatherer days when a jack-of-all-trades was important, but now it means approximately jack shit. Please please please stop messing with what is going on here. Please stop messing with my evolution.
In my opinion, the various characterizations of gender are starting to blend. Hell, we have enough hormone in our water supply system that androgyny is inevitable anyway – men and women coming closer together, faster and faster, merging towards a sameness that has only one essential difference: Modern Man is way ahead of his competition in this race.
DEAR GIRLS WHO DISRESPECT THE MODERN MAN
I think the problem isn’t that you don’t like me. The issue is this: I’ve grown up, lady, and you haven’t kept pace, and as you look around this madhouse of civilization that we’ve built, you’ve realized that I am in fact where you as a woman want to go. I get to be sensitive – I get to drink beer with the boys. I get to be gentle – I get to shoot live animals. I get everything: I get the cake, I get to eat it, and if I want, I get to pick it out of my well-shaped beard and do you while I smear you with the crumbs.
And that’s the difference. We are going to become equal, no matter how much some of us will kick and scream on the way to that endpoint – men and women are going to secure equality, it’s inevitable. It’s correct. It’s also an evolutionary requirement, because last I looked, there does not appear to be any significant difference between the abilities of men and women anyway, so this is something that has been unequivocally proven over the years. The difference is that Modern Man is quietly moving towards the endpoint, losing the ridiculous maleness of which we were once so proud and to which we clung so strongly because we didn’t really have anything else to shout about; and women – sure, you are more vocal about equality, but you are totally getting lapped in this race. How else do you explain me being able to go for a pedicure while drunk on beer, and seriously considering the offer when I’m asked if I want my chest waxed?
Ladies, I don’t think you’re angry. I think you’re envious. Modern Man has it all. And I think you want to be one of us. So as a conciliatory gesture, I’m inviting you in. Here’s a free pass. No cover charge. Welcome to the club, girl. Come on in. Learn the handshake. Have a drink. Have a cigar. You’re welcome here. I’m not even going to make you leave your vagina at the door. I’m nice that way – I’m Modern Man. And you, darling, are unfortunately not getting the hang of this. So please take a seat, man up some, and stop being such a cock.
((To all – sorry, I got slagged this weekend, and out came the rant. There are many more serious, real topics to be concerned about, but have you ever put something really wet into your pocket and then dealt with it for like five hours straight? This whole topic is like a wet pocket for me. We are equal – across genders, races, any division that we choose. That is all.))
I love a good rant. I regularly give the local Italian coffee shop owner the dirty looks I reserve for French pastries. But this. This is fucking sublime. That is all.
But why do you hate the French pastries? We Canadians want to know.
That dirty look is one of intense lust. French pastries. Sigh.
I feel your pain. I will go to Quebec and rough up some patisseries for you. Don’t judge me if eat the house down.
Wow. Sorry that someone called you a pussy, but, um, you know I hope that the sexes are not evolving toward a sameness because, you know, I would miss the dirty male bits.
Ah, fuck, I screwed up the html tags. Why can’t we edit our comments on WordPress???? That’s what you should be ranting about!
I could rant about WordPress functionality all day long.
I think it’s more that someone thought it was an insult to say so… when it really wasnt. I’m a sensitive chap. Proper and upright. Prone to sappy movies and marmalade. Those things. But I still have dirty male bits, and maybe that’s my point… it’s so hard to remember what my point was, Karen.
You cried during “Twilight”? Seriously, man. Tsk tsk.
Doobster, like you didn’t!
Don’t know who the cavewoman was that slagged you…but is it too much to hope that she reads your blog? As a bona fide vag-card carrier, I can tell you that I know MORE than a few Modern Men. In fact, now that I ponder, most of the knuckle draggers in my life left behind the caveman mentality long ago. I don’t think twice about seeing a man cry through a sad movie or a daughter’s wedding; belt out in all his glory, the latest theme song from a Disney movie because his kids love it; stare like a deer in the headlights at the dark and scary place under the hood of the car and reach for the telephone rather than a wrench…none of these things make a man a man. All of these things make a man huMAN. I’m enjoying the evolution; am glad they don’t know it all or have all the answers…if they did, what am I here for? Someone has to hand them the instructions when it is finally clear what they are assembling has beaten them. Someone has to witness the miracle that is ‘asking for directions’. I like the Modern Man. In fact, I love the Modern Man…it makes being a Modern Woman much more interesting. Any cave dweller can sit there chest pounding and barking orders; scratching his balls and picking his nose. They bore me…bore me silly! Give me a man who thinks macho is just a word in a Village People song and I’ll give him two thumbs up every time. Give me a man who knows the only real difference between the sexes is measured in inches and cup sizes, T levels and Estrogen…and I’d jump on him (figuratively of course) any day!
SB, I have such love for you, as a guy I think I should be okay saying that. Such a great comment – I’m glad you’re there with us. Seriously, the complete douchecanoery of some men is beyond belief, strutting their stuff all over the place and doing that thing in the bars….the too cool for school schmozzle that makes me want to smack em.
I’ll take the instructions. I’ll ask for the directions. It’s all good to me. Honestly though, I should have asked you to write this rant for me, cause you captured it much better than I did. Amen, Southern Belle. You rock.
Thanks NB but you did just fine! And I believe your girls and your son will all benefit tremendously (as will their respective significant others when the time comes) from growing up in a house with a Modern Dad. So…just keep doing what your doing and rant when you need to…xo
Thank you SB. I hope so. Must do well with the little ones.
WBF brother. With. By. For. Absolutely
perfectly said rhinda my darling as always ^_^ love and hugs xx
That’s cause she is perfect. Perfect.
right back at you kizz…xoxo
Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooa! That’s a rant and a half!
I think I done went and hurt myself.
This is fucking MAGNIFICENT.
Trent, this is why I BEG you to blog non fiction – even though your fiction is amazing – when you write this stuff, no one can touch you.
This:
“I get the cake, I get to eat it, and if I want, I get to pick it out of my well-shaped beard and do you while I smear you with the crumbs.”
As delicious as cake.
When it’s this dangerously well written, Trent, it doesn’t even matter if I agree or disagree. It’s THAT good. (yes, I agree. Calling a male a “pussy” went out in the 4th grade.)
rage on, my friend.
As a really cool blogger friend of mine would say, “You give good rant.”
And THERE you are!!
A post, please. Some of us are in “Sean Smithson” withdrawal.
Ha. I could say the same about you my dear. But there shall actually be a new post tomorrow – a collaboration of sorts… I hope you like it.
By the way, Trent, I can’t quite put my finger on it but something is different about the site, right? I like it man. Oh yeah, I’ve kind of signed you, me and Hook up for a coast to coast road trip, culminating in one big piss-up in the Beaver Lodge. I’m thinking early 2020?
Thanks dude. My wife got at it and went bonkers on the place. She does that sometimes. It explains the three kids.
You know I’m there for a piss-up road trip, but you guys are gonna have to drive. If I’m sober for more than five minutes the whole time, it’ll be a crime. Hookie is like an hour and a half away from me, in Niagara. We’ll pick you up at the airport in TO…
And we all know who that is… well said.
Samara, rage on with me.
Here’s the fun trick I’ve learned: I simply don’t care what anybody thinks. Well…I care what my wife thinks. And my daughters. But, honestly? That’s about it. I don’t care what my in-law think or even my siblings. It took me years to get here but I can’t tell you how liberating it is. I’m quite happy with myself and don’t care what anyone else thinks.
I don’t know if I care what people think so much, but I do get irritated when ultra-macho man pulls the macho trick at the pub or something. Wait, that sounds suspiciously like I do care what people think… sigh, I’ll just confess.
Shakespeare said, and I paraphrase, “To thine own self be true.” So you know yourself! Congratulations! Self-awareness is a great gift. Some folks never get to that place.
Crike man, if I were self-aware, I wouldn’t need to write!
That’s an excellent point. What was I thinking?
It would be a funny thing for artificial intelligence to come about, reach self-awareness, look around and find nothing creative in its life, and self-terminate. At least I think it would be funny…
Now you’re channeling Robert A. Heinlein.
Ha! I believe that is a luxury that comes with age. I care about what my kids think. and my siblings. all the rest? notsomuch. (that’s because I am an orphan)
I did not know that, Julie. So, now that you’re here… guest post? I’m all about the peer pressure.
HA! I think you just have to get me talking about something and once I get going you got a post!
Yes. Tell me more.
Reblogged this on securenigeria365.
Wonderful! I thank you for this perspective from a man who is willing to give his side of the story. I will admit I am horribly guilty of calling men pussies, however the man you are describing here does not fit into my description of a pussy. My description of a pussy is a man who will not stand up and care for his family, and I don’t mean just financially (this is also the case of some women).
That is entirely a different kind of man… not sure that is a man at all. Or even human.
nope, I agree. that is a pussy. I do not agree that you are, although we are new friends still, I don’t see it. You my friend are human. and one of the good ones.
Ah thanks Julie my friend. I still know nothing about you, have little idea who you are (although more now), but I know you are good stuff. I just know that. I put my faith in knowing that you are good stuff. Hence you must write on my blog! (you knew that was coming, right?)
hahahahahaha! I think I have a good aura…. Funny how thru a couple written words we can decide if we like someone or not isn’t it??
What else is there but words?
words can be deceiving.. Actions speak louder than words. A picture is worth a thousand words…
Full circle. Action speak loud, pictures are a thousand words… but they all make words in our heads. If our words are good, so is everything else.
Here here! We are having a connotation/denotation break down here…
That sounds dangerous… and sexy.
Yeah? I was thinking your new little picture is a bit phallic…. nothing at all like my green snowflake..
I know… I gotta change that.
nice. you changed my green snowflake to a lazy G. or one of those energy efficent lightbulbs.. or a power button.. Why do our paths cross but never at the same time?? We just keep missing each other?
I dunno. I have odd hours. I work a lot. A real lot.
I like you better as a bums-up G. It’s how I kind of picture you anyway.
I may have already shared this with you, but my wife has said a number of times that I wasn’t the type of guy she would have dated in high school. I’m still trying to figure out why that is a point worth making. And my boys regularly poke fun at me because I don’t like cars and guns and all things that bleed testosterone. To which all I can say is this … I’m the one that provides for every f’in’ thing they have.
I figured you’d get this, my friend. I’ve never fired a gun in my life… and never need to.
I have. It was, how should I say it… meh.
I’m going to try hard not to try.
It could be just me. I get bored in casinos, too.
Me too, X. Although I was in Vegas late last year and played an instructional game of craps… in a group of people that you know at a closed table, I have to say that was a lot of fun. The rest… complete meh.
I have too. I think it was more a learning experience. trying to understand.
shot a gun I mean. I don’t really understand gambling…
So, really what you are saying is that it is status quo. Women are still trying to have everything men have. We haven’t really gained any ground because men are evolving quicker. Every step we take you take a bigger one. This explains a lot. Seriously, a woman should have noticed this.
Men are sneaky. You have to be careful around us. We might act boorish and bastardly quite a bit, but quietly we are bridging the gender gap one truss at a time…
Dude, just be you, and screw anyone that has a problem with that. Your wife and kid love you. You win.
But the leather tie? That’s gotta go.
Dude, leather ties all the way, all the time… don’t get me started on the leather underwear. Once you’ve had cow, you can’t go back.
My wife went to a hipster baby shower in Brooklyn on Sunday and someone bought a leather baby outfit. Now, how stupid is that?! How do you get baby shit out of leather? Can you?
Okay, leather baby outfit is maybe where I would draw the line… there cannot be any good reason for that. None.
it doesn’t matter, how long do babies wear baby clothes really?
My kids ran around naked till like two. It was… weird.
That made potty training my girl a lot easier!! It didn’t work out so well with my boy but my girl sure hated peeing down her leg! plus if she was in the kitchen she would slip and fall, very much didn’t like that.
I know this feeling all too well… looking for that infernal pee spot on the tiles…
But the leather thong chafes.
You get used to it. Apply lotion liberally. Very liberally.
I never laughed so hard and thought so much at the same freekin’ time!!! It also made me proud of the fact that I am highly evolved, in touch with my feminine side, artistic, sensitive and still huge and manly. Sorry.
Most of that I agree with… but the huge and manly… I’m not touching that with a ten foot pole. Literally.
But I will say you are the most feminine man I have ever met. And that’s a total compliment.
thanks
Rant away! This was so freaking amazing! You should write more opinion pieces like this! Welcome to the hu(man) race!
I only really get angry a few times a month, but when I do, it’s pretty angry. Glad you enjoyed it.
I’m so sorry you got slogged. Rant away. Get it off your chest. Don’t keep it all bottled up. Just be happy with you because that’s all that matters in the end. I’ve learned I will never make everyone happy anyway, so look out for yourself. Hey, you changed the look around here. I like it!
Well, it wasn’t that bad. It’s one of those things that made me angry after the fact, and made me further wish that I had been quick enough to rant about it at the time… everything is delayed rant with me…
My wife changed the look of the blog, I thought it was about time – she’ll be tickled that someone noticed – thank you Amy!
I am fucking clapping at my desk, no lie. This is one of the best things I have ever read on the internet, and since I actually have good taste and am not overly fond of cats, that’s saying something. I just printed a copy to share with my potential future sons. I’m giving a copy to my husband. I am so excited that this piece of prose exists on the internet, and I really want to buy you a drink. “Gender fulfillment?” You (and that phrase) WIN.
Jennie, I would have a drink with you anytime, cause you are like the epitomy of class. Glad you liked the post, I’m curious to see how your husband would react to it.
I will let you know, promise! *clink*
Anytime, Jennie. You are very cool, in my estimation. And I hardly ever say that about anyone (except maybe myself).
Dude, rant when it suits you. You be fuckin awesome.
Now I’m blushing… thank you.
The douchey guy in me says, “men and women coming closer together, faster and faster” and the me in me says…you’re a great dude.
I understand what I said and ignore that first part, I’m drunk and you’re awesome.
I think the awesome award has to go to you, La La, for being drunk on a Monday. My two glasses of wine do not quite measure up.
So I’ve had half a bottle but I’m like 5’3 so it’s the same kinda. You know, it’s Monday and we like wine. That’s cool. You’re the perfect kind of man, really. Some dudes are cowards for not embracing stuff because it’s “unmanly.” Whatever that shit means. I am not all the feminine sometimes. And you know what? I fart a lot. We meet in the middle and I like it. So, I hope that makes sense.
I always need a full bottle… I love Monday wine. I love any day wine. Perfect, eh, now I’m flattered – I bet my wife would disagree, but she farts all the time too so what does she know. She’s not very feminine in the traditional sense. I don’t care. Meeting in the middle… I’m so down with that. I’m so down with that I’m gonna have another glass of wine, and if I get really sloppy, will have a shot of scotch. La La, you are an inspiration. And you do make sense. Strange, wonderful sense.
Well you also make sense and she and I would be fart buddies so that’s neat. I just looked and I have an embarrassing shot of Fireball left so I am going to town. Cheers to meeting in the middle. I love that plan.
Fuck them. Ditch the leather tie and everything will be rosy.
Dude, I look great in a leather tie!
Nobody looks good in a leather tie. Not even aficionados of that auto erotic dangle from a door knob by my leather tie action!
I don’t think you should be bothered by the fact that you can’t fix your car. Those hairy and manly Neanderthals wouldn’t know where to begin either.
P.S. Congratulations, your blog has now been blocked by my office internet firewall. I don’t know if that’s because of excessive manliness or abundance of the word “pussy”. (Oh, there’s another one.)
Well, I’m more proud that I don’t know how to fix a car, and espousing my pride on the topic… not something that’s important to me. Like the gun thing.
X, please give this message to your IT guys: pussies. Just kidding. Oh well, it happens I guess.
I’m sure my IT guys are tracking every site I visit, so I trust they already have your message.
Pardon me but is that a vagina in your pocket?
I was wondering when someone was going to ask that.
This ‘rant’ hits me right in the pusshole. Serious – I want my man sensitive and able to rebuild an engine. Sorry about that.
Pfffft… you’re into multitaskers, eh? When you find one of these paragons, you should stick him in a vat of carbonite to immortalize him.
As if you don’t want the cover of Swimsuit Illustrated with a Harvard degree.
I would kill for that shit.
“This is not gender slagging, it’s about gender fulfillment, the ongoing journey of a promise that was made by our man genes, a natural progression towards harmony and a happy household – what’s so wrong with that? I will buy the Christmas presents. I will comb my little girl’s hair. But does that mean I won’t fuck up the next guy that gives me attitude in an on-line first-person shooter?”
That is the perfect definition of a real man. If only we could replace the male ego brains that are running the world and replace them with the real men brains. We could sneak in while they’re sleeping and . . . no it would never work . . . or would it? It’s really not any more farfetched than leather diapers is it?
Ah Linda… she of the poutine poem that has not yet materialized (I don’t forget) – I’m with you here. Male ego brains, conventional thinking, entitled maleness, all boorish and boring. And so 1900’s. Time for an overhaul, I think.
The leather diapers… I’d almost forgotten about that…
You don’t forget. I’m thinking I may have to do a little poutine research for that poem. You don’t happen to know any poutine places that deliver in California do you?
Um, well, poutine tends to get a big soggy in transit, given the abundance of grease and gravy… I’m sure it could be done, but not sure you’d like the result.
Ah darn! What this country needs is poutine drive through!
Evolution? What’s that? I don’t want to evolve… I want to know what my grandparents knew. I want to be able to fix everything around the house, and put my car back together after taking it apart just for the god damn hell of it. I want to be the rock that holds the house together or smashes it apart. I want to make The Queen swoon over my strength. I don’t need emotions. Who has the time? I don’t need to be sensitive. I don’t want to be sensitive. I’ve got alcohol, that’s all the sensitive you are going to get from me…
Ha! Matticus, there’s like what, twelve male bloggers around here, so like 0.1%? And I figure all those guys are by virtue of blogging somewhat along the lines of the modern man theory… so while I’ll guzzle scotch with you ad nauseam, I warn you that I will likely eventually get emotional and a little weepy. It ain’t pretty, but it is what it is.
I will guzzle the scotch, and smoke a cigar. I’ll wax philosophical regarding our favorite sporting teams. But, I will not weep.
Unless we start watching For Love of the Game, or It’s A Wonderful Life, or, hell, any number of tear jerker movies, and then I couldn’t keep my eyes from leaking.
I knew it!
Hahaha
I posted a couple months ago about all the movies that make me cry.
I seem to be sensitive whether I like it or not… oh well.
Embrace it, dude.
Oh, most of the time, it works out. I just don’t fit the Modern Man stereotype as you’ve explained it. I believe divisions of labor in the home are arbitrary. (Cimmy and I switch up fairly regularly unless it’s electrical work.) I am a butchy bear of the teddy sort, i.e. I believe that men should have hair on their bodies and their faces, but I am gentle and cuddly. Home Depot is my second home but I’m Cimmy’s fashion consultant; I comfortable shopping for clothes with her. I won’t use a “manbag” but am unafraid to hold her purse. I will endure or even enjoy chick flicks if the selection is right, but Cimmorene knows the Marvel Universe better than I do and therefore knows the backstory on comic book movies.
I think you are both a tribute to modern families. We should not let conventions dictate how we live our lives, I think, or rather, we should go ahead and define the future.
Nothing wrong with being sensitive. It’s the physical expression of it that is the problem. 😛
Aye, how I express that sensitivity tends to lead me either to trouble, or to praise. It’s difficult to keep things in moderation.
Another curse of the modern man. We don’t do moderation well.
I’d watched a video that suggested the now-spurned ideal of the ’50s man was one more of moderation. I’ve also read that shyness and reserved personalities were more accepted then, for both men and women.
If anything, I guess that would mean that too much stereotyping is dangerous– the decade apparently had some merits that can be considered.
Moderation is overrated, isn’t it? Everything in moderation.. whoever said that has no life.
They have a life… just not a very exciting one. 😉
I would like to find each person that uses femininity (or all things conflated with or that connote femininity) as an insult and end their genetic line and capacity for influence.
Rage on, Lewin.
I will, Jones. If you find such people, drop me a note. We will hunt them down together.
Trent-Excellent rant-should I feel a tad responsible lol-I think one of the keys to real men’s lib is that all types of men (sensitive artists types and macho lumber jack car fixin types) need to join hands and declare solidarity.
Where I have problems with the usual argument-which I didn’t really see in your rant-is when sensitive men(like myself jes don’t tell anyone) join in with the overly loud chorus of modern women to denigrate their more macho brethren.
Women like Ms. Vernon & Ms. Jones above reflect much of modern society declaring that bein a man is equal to bein (only) a destructive unit to society. Which of course is a truth, but not the truth.
I too often wish I was more like my father and g-father (as djmatticus mentioned above), was that bastion of quiet strength and fixability, and feel that we as a gender are losing this ability, which is (in general) worse for society not better.
Like you I am a sensitive male, no matter how much it at times discourages me, but I can and do appreciate what other men bring to the table and feel that as a society, a culture, those other men are jes as vital to keep things rolling forward.
I do feel though that this moving toward “sameness” that you describe is not only impossible, but undesirable, (in general) men and women are different, and that difference is needed to achieve balance.
This new truth is as much b.s. (men and women are the same) as many of our others (ex:no child is born with hate in it’s heart: if that’s true why does it take so much [in general] training to teach children to share and play nice with one another) and that like the boy n the “Emperors New Clothes” tale my main purpose fer writing my blog.
Okay I of course could go on and on on this subject n’ would love to have more discourse over the issue (which I am often let down that nobody challenges some of the more outlandish things I say in my own posts.) But don’t wanna be too annoying oh it is to laugh.
Thanks T
Yeah, solidarity all right. We got to get together and stand proud. And yes, I know, I was being facetious about the sameness thing. We are different, and it’s the differences that should be celebrated, not erased out of existence, and as long as the door swings both ways on that, we will be all right. I believe that we will be all right.
You’re not annoying at all – I would like to hear more of your thoughts on the subject, so perhaps you could whip out a blog post?
Oh it is to laugh….I probably post more about that topic than anything else. Won’t be hard to find
Though I always love a chance fer a little palaver, or would tete de tete (or possibly argy bargy?) be more appropriate yer part of the frozen North.
No matter what people read from my posts, I believe (n have always believed) that man and woman, the masculine and the feminine are equal.
I also believe as you believe, that we are different, and those difference’s should be celebrated.
I also believe that woman are not only (in general) superior as a gender, but more important(in general) to the foundation of a solid society.
I also believe however that life should be a balance n it doesn’t help us to make up fer one imbalance of “power” with a equal n opposite imbalance.
While I think woman are (i.g.) superior in most ways, I think that the male has key qualities that women are (i,g.) weak in, thes couple of qualities carrry such weight fer the success of a family, society, country (what have you) that we hold our own in value.
Therefore we are forced to rely on each other (the masculine and the feminine no matter the physical gender).
Anyway, most of my arguments are specifically, solely about the use of language, how we are or attempted to be manipulated by…(insert powerful poli/socio/religi organization and or group, )words n how we utilize them have a large impact on society.
Take fer instance this nu-truth
“A woman can do any job a man can do.”
As an example female firefighters could not be firefighters if the rules to become such had not been adjusted to allow women in…
So again it’s a language issue. to say a woman can do the firefighters job at the same level as a male is not true.
That is not saying that women cannot make good firefighters, I have the feeling that (i.g.) they do.
I’m jes saying that the above statement as new age dogma does not hold up (in the way they suggest it does) as the truth…
Here a real world truth counter to much of what we here that women hate to hear…fer all the talk of how evil males(western white more specifically) are so sexist the truth is of course not so…
And as I often remind ladies I know…they only have as many rights as we give them…I know it sounds sexist…I don’t mean it so, (I’m really a lover more than a fighter)it’s jes the truth.
Oh it is to laugh
Bla,bla,balbbity bla, Trent thanks again, preciate the chance fer back and forth with you. Yer fiction rocks n yer non-fiction is well executed n thought provokin and far more precise n less…umm…wordy than mine L and his fabulous o l boys.
Dude, you really rock for telling your truth like this. I hear what you’re saying. I don’t know what I think, I just hate dividing lines between all people, I hate presupposing what someone can or can’t do. I’ve known some really downtrodden, yokel-type people who blow me away with their insights. I’ve known some captains of industry who make me sick to my stomach. I want everyone to have the chance to prove themselves; I’ll take them for who they are.
Serious, real topics?
Whatever, Trent.
Rant on!
Hey you know what? My ex was a manly man. He could fix a car, shoot a gun, fix and ride and race his motorcycle with relatively low damage, he could drink and swear with the best of the sailors. he also proved I could take a punch like a man. and it didn’t matter how much or long he slapped me around I survived.
You know, I have a romantic belief in love. I don’t think there is a partner for me but I was never really into the make a ton of money. I was more make an honest living and we will get by. I don’t need to be put on a pedestal, but I do want my hand held. I don’t need furs and diamonds. Hell, I don’t even really need more than a couple pairs of shoes (as opposed to dozens) I would like a companion, but I sure don’t need one. (huh oh…am I gettin on to my guest post topic?)
I am happy to let you rant Trent. I agree with you, I think….. 🙂
Julie, if I ever meet your husband, I’m calling Art and we’re going to go to town on him. I hoped you were kidding, him slapping you around. But not sure you are. He sounds like pond slime to me.
I hear you, my friend. My wife wouldn’t even take an engagement ring. Like you, I think she could have done without me… but I’m glad she didn’t.
Want to rant with me?
EX husband. And sadly, not kidding. So who’s the stronger of the two of us? I would say me since I raised two beautiful people, kept a roof over our heads, sent the two beautiful people thru college (one just graduated, she’s a teacher now) survived the deaths of my parents and some very good friends along the way. He has drifted, always looking for a place to stay rent free. ah, I don’t wanna dredge that up. He is worse than pond slime.
You and your wife are lucky. I was gonna say she is lucky, but clearly you also feel lucky. So you guys have been blessed to find each other. They say there is a lid for every pot, but I need to be comfortable with the idea that my lid got lost or just doesn’t exist. That is why God made cats, so I won’t ever have to be alone.
I would never have such a contest. I’m glad you saw through to your kids, Julie. That is what matters.
Lids, pots and luck. That is what we have. And cats too.
oh, I can rant MR. let me tell you! I can rantR
Give us a rant!
HA! I got an engagement ring. He went and picked it out and bought it with my credit card. I paid the bill. I used to say that I would have bought myself a much larger diamond as I feel I am worth it!
Seriously? What kind of guy does that?
This is poetry right here, poetry. And any guy that can rock stubble AND poetry is a man’s man in my book.
I totally agree with you. I can also jack a baseball 400 feet, if that adds to anything… but I know it doesn’t.
I can hit a golf ball pretty far…..
I can’t even hit the ball…
Wet pocket.
Sad gravy.
Having none of either…or ither.
I’m having what you’re having.
Well done. On both sides…
I’m happy to share the mad… thanks for the words, my friend.
I need to spend more time reading and less time working! Magnificent rant!
I have also been called a pussy in my time, as in “don’t be a pussy.” Except I’m not sure what that actually means so I just ignored it. Cause the opposite of that would seem to imply that I should be a dick. And that is supposed to be an improvement?
Don’t sweat the small stuff, my friend. I think, as perhaps I jokingly put it, there is a good spot between being a wimp and a dick; a spot where many of us sit, I believe.
Quite a way to rant. You do it with some skill and wit. If I may beg to say, it is an issue that may have no end because the very definition of modern man changes across time and space. Of course, it still stands that it will always generate reactions of all sorts.
Always does… someone commented that we don’t see posts about modern woman… that is a serious oversight.
Hahahahahaha…..
Please, humour me when you can and do one. No pressure this toimew.
I have to really think about it first….
Suckerpunched is a chick flick?
Dude. Totally. Do you by chance like that movie? Me and my brother are the only ones I know who do. I flippin love it. I was so let down by Man of Steel as a result.
I haven’t seen it yet, actually. I just recognize the main actress from her part in “A Series of Unfortunate Events”, which my kids love.
Oh crike! You gotta see it! It’s a bizarre sauce for an odd cake.
Haha, y’know, Trent, I have a long, long backlist of movies that have been recommended to me. I guess I need to budget some money for Netflix again, or something like that.
As Aussa already knows, I’m no stranger to the psych ward, so that’s some of what else piqued my interest in this movie.
It’s a bit of a mindbender… but there’s a message there, if you can get through to the end, that I thought was pretty awesome. Something about fighting no matter what, through the hordes of demons if you must.
Hnah!
I like short and sweet.