Showing posts with label leggings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label leggings. Show all posts

Saturday, April 21, 2018

All Men Are Pigs (Pt. 2)

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) — the Stickies — to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.


                                   THE AGE OF UNLIGHTENMENT?

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Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars
Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 
Iggy -- My designated Sticky
Dana -- My designated gentlereader

"I wear women's leggings under my clothes, but no lingerie."   —Dennis Rodman


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

In my last letter, I explained my contention that almost all male H. sapiens are by nature, sexually speaking, pigs. My point is a metaphorical one and I insincerely apologize to any and all animal rights activists who are offended by my observation. In fact, I support them in their quest to improve the living conditions of all animals raised for human consumption.

It's obviously the virtuous path. Also, while I don't know if it's true, I hear they taste better. Win/win.


I maintained that we male H. sapiens arrive in the world factory preset to function in this swinishish manner. I failed to mention that although all men are pigs, many men, by nature and/or nurture, are more civilized and self-controlled than others.

Everyone benefits when male H. sapiens (traditionally called, men) cultivate the restraint of their swinish side. This is virtue in action. This makes the playground a much nicer and more comfortable place for us all.


To vastly oversimplify, Aristotle...

[Have you ever noticed that you're prone to both oversimplification and over thinking?]

Sure, Dana, I call it cosmic dissonance.

[It's cognitive, not cosmic, and it refers...]

I'm cosmically inspired by Marie-Louise and then I distill, or oversimplify — for my benefit as well as the Stickies.

At this point, Iggy walked through my consciousness, smiled, and gave me a high five without stopping. Where you headed?

[Out.]

The door slams and I'm momentarily nonplussed but Marie-Louise starts scratching my back and all is well.


Now, back to oversimplifying Alexander the Great's teacher. Aristotle, and I, your sainted grandfather, think that virtue and virtuous behavior is the "golden mean" betwixt the extremes of too much of something and not enough of something.

For example, all sex all the time v. total abstinence. While reasoned abstinence has its place, total abstinence can trigger the law of unexpected consequences. Viewing the world through a pornographic lens can do the same. Examples? priests that molest kids and rampant STD.

[Wait-wait-wait. Every time I turn around there's a news story about a female school teacher molesting a kid and...]

Sad but true, Dana. However, while I acknowledge that I may be countenancing heresy, I believe that male and female H. sapiens differ in all sorts of important ways.

I maintain that even in our ever-coarsening culture that men, generally speaking, are pigs. Women, generally speaking, are not — and that everyone knows this. Google the following name, Harvey Weinstein.

Trigger warning, if the statement in bold above doesn't get me burned at a virtual stake, what follows just might. You've been warned.


While randomly web surfing I stumbled on an article from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution website, Are Leggings Distracting? that's about a couple of fifth-grade girls that spoke at a meeting of the Atlanta school board. They requested that the board amend the dress code by ending the use of the word "distracting," as in, no wearing clothes that are extremely tight and distracting.

One of the girls is quoted as saying, "I do not believe that clothing is distracting. It is just the reaction that matters. I should not be punished for other people's behavior. I am not a distraction."

Out of the mouths of babes huh? Distraction, it seems, is in the eye of the beholder. Everyone should dress as they please. What's the worst that could happen? Glad we cleared that up.

"It must be me," said I to me. I went a-googling. It's me.


In short order, I stumbled on a plethora of relevant articles. The consensus? from a USA Today article, "...students and parents worry the message the dress code sends to girls is: Your body is a problem. Don't distract the boys. Even if that's not the intent, it's an early message, they say, that blames girls for boys bad behavior."

I had no idea. Damn, wrong again.

See, I think the message is: Girls — boys (and men) are pigs with big eyes. You know this. This is not your fault. You are not to blame. It's just the way it is. But, you need to acknowledge this fact as you will be dealing with it, in one form or another, on a daily basis for the rest of your life. Take care. Poppa loves you.

Have an OK day.


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©2018 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)

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