Archive: June 2005
What women got
This is not an analysis of what women want, even though I know.* It is about, conversely, what they got. Why all the trouble? What do we need from them? What can women add to our lives? We already have cable television and sport-utility vehicles, but we seek out women nonetheless. What can they do for us? What are they for?
Modern life is about forgetting modern life, and there are many ways to be entertained and many ways to be distracted, and in many of these ways, cable television and sport-utility vehicles can figure prominently. However, there is one category in which women, or at least certain remarkable women, can alone suffice. In our world of abundance, we have not found a way to replace the one thing women alone can do. They can be dirty, dirty, dirty.
By the very definition, a purpose-built plaything cannot be dirty. Dirty can only happen when purpose is perverted. Playstations are supposed to be fun, so when they are fun they are boring. Women, on another hand, are supposed to be angels sent from god to urinate flower petals unto the earth. So when they are dirty, dirty girls, we are relieved and gratified.
Am I wrong?
Your lady may be wonderful. But don’t you like the dirty ones better?
I like the dirty ones better.
Women are better than us: so we admire them. But anyone can do that, as we aren’t that great. They can also show they are so much worse than us: that’s exciting too. But anyone can do that, as the world is full of temptation. The way to be supreme is to keep these two things going at once: to be a woman, yes, but also to be dirty (which is to take the feminine to the non-feminine, thereby perfecting both, in a way not available to men). So ladies, please, get your Ph.D.s. Run for the senate. Control industry. But find the time to be dirty, dirty girls. You will not regret it. This is how you will truly stand out. There is always extra time for what is important. If you do not know what I mean, please call. We will find a way for you to shine by being tarnished.
What have you got to lose but your self-respect?
* They want to be respected, admired, and fucked into the wall every eight hours, just like everyone else.
A dirty job
In my last post, I wrote about how women were special. This let loose a torrent of pent-up agreement, in email and in the comments. I’m always mistrustful of anything that is admired by the majority, even if it’s something I say. I feel there can’t be anything in it. I thrive on adversity. Let’s revisit this issue: how women can — should — be filthy and how we love them for it.
The first concern I’d like to bring up is the issue of the sexes. I’ve always been a believer in their equivalence, even though nobody, and not even science these days, seems to agree with me. I guess I believe in our equivalence (by which I don’t mean equality, which is merely a legal issue, but whether or not we actually work the same) as an issue of patriotic faith rather than rational investigation. I want men and women to be the same, because otherwise life seems unfair to somebody.
But at the same time, I do not want men to be dirty. It doesn’t mean the same thing.
Women should be dirty. The equivalent for men should be that they appreciate, or encourage, dirtiness in others, not that they undertake it themselves. Otherwise, they will end up wearing toupées and too much mascara. That’s not dirty, it’s silly.
A look through history confirms this division of labor must be honored at all costs. Susan Sontag was not dirty; now she’s dead. Conversely, Michel Foucault was dirty, and he is dead too. However, Liz Hurley is still going strong.
So, gentlemen, support your lady in every way you can: Victoria’s Secret gift cards are a beginning, but don’t rest on your laurels.
And, ladies, please keep doing us dirty. Do for us what we cannot do for ourselves.