Returning to the subject of women, a favourite subject, i had abandoned, under the duress of a woman feminist (yep. there are.) haunting my messenger with questions containing what she imagined to be cutting to the the very core of the issue. Women and Logic are like beer and ice cream. You can have one or the other.
Well, anyway, there is a rather recently discovered species of women that i want to talk to you about. Their very existence, almost confirmed, has shaken me to the very termite-eaten legs of my favourite armchair. In fact, ..oh wait. I am getting ahead of myself. Let me break this to you gently.
During the course of my intense, back breaking journey of human nature,(happening, as you might imagine, over millions of tankards of refereshing beer) i have chanced upon a truly original species.
We all know the anguish that Gautam Buddha went through, choosing as he was between worldly desires (what he imagined to be worldly in a world that didn't have beer or pizza is beyond me) and an existence free of desire, and hence(apparently), truly existing. Well. He needn't have bothered.
There exists this, thankfully rare, breed of men and women, that bring the two together - (for you slowpokes - Desires and detachment) - in a rather vicous cocktail of personality liquors.
These blokes look like they are swimming on the waves and desires of emotion just like the rest of us. Actually, all they are doing is going through the motions of the above mentioned activities, but in reality are rather securely paddling gently perched comfortably on a bed of detached social outlook.
This is wonderful. Un-understandable as the above paragraph may have sounded, this is a magnificent piece of evolution. Take my word for it.
Let's break this down.
What's the most important thing in the world to you?
How good you think you are.
How do you know how good you are?
From what your mates think how good you are.
(Let's not waste any time on the psychological problems that are supposed to happen here. This is what everyone does. Period.)
How do you know what your mates think of you?
By what they tell you. And for the slightly more intelligent person, the way they tell it.
Now, we all know that mates bullshit you. And they know you know. And you know they know you know. So we repeat the entire process of finding out how good we are by matching our opinions of ourselves with a more objective audience. Until the associative process of self evaluation with an objective observer nullifies the objectivity, either positively or negatively. And you are left with a foetus of an unbiased opinion. You take what you get, and move on to the next. And so on.
Right through this process, we have a few parameters, all centred around one basic fact.
The System treats you the way according to what it thinks of you. If you are a winner, they think you are a winner. Completely unconversely, if the system thinks you are a winner, you become a winner. A chicken and egg classic.
Now, coming to the nub of my post, this back and forth between people adding to or detracting to their worth of themselves, forms an admirable platform for manipulation, and in fact, most of our wiles and wares. What i have discovered is this breed of men and women that do not fall under this basic umbrella of human behaviour.
Your opinion of them slips off their back like water off a seal's back. They like and love as do all of us, but their loves are neutral and impassive. More cerebral than cardiac. Their opinion of one does not change what they feel for them. (If you stop and think, you'll realise how bloody important that one is)
With such a person, you are completely powerless, and in fact, just due to this abnormality, they seem to hold inestimable power over you. There's no way for you to get through to them. or at them. They are calm, unflappable. Truly Nirvanian.
What makes them that way? I don't know.
How can we become like that? No idea.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
An orphan blog
This is coming from nowhere. Really.
As i write in today, i wonder about the presumptuousness of it all. The utter arrogance in assuming that the world needs to know what you think. Or feel. On further pondering - not too much; kills brain cells- i am deeply comforted by the fact that most great art (great used in the "great haircut!" sense of the word. My cumbersome pondering might lead you to think otherwise) comes out of a confluence of constipated urges and deep enjoyment of satisfying them. I really doubt Pablo Picasso would have painted, had he known what he could end up as, in deeper shades of tan to reflect museum lights in a more muted way. Then again, he was an artist, and i, loath as i am to say it, am a hustler. What then? Do i do this to relieve my urges and enjoy the satisfaction of the ensuing relief, or do i do this for an audience?
Weighty question, that. Need another beer.
As i write in today, i wonder about the presumptuousness of it all. The utter arrogance in assuming that the world needs to know what you think. Or feel. On further pondering - not too much; kills brain cells- i am deeply comforted by the fact that most great art (great used in the "great haircut!" sense of the word. My cumbersome pondering might lead you to think otherwise) comes out of a confluence of constipated urges and deep enjoyment of satisfying them. I really doubt Pablo Picasso would have painted, had he known what he could end up as, in deeper shades of tan to reflect museum lights in a more muted way. Then again, he was an artist, and i, loath as i am to say it, am a hustler. What then? Do i do this to relieve my urges and enjoy the satisfaction of the ensuing relief, or do i do this for an audience?
Weighty question, that. Need another beer.
Friday, June 04, 2004
And more was to come, but for Karen
I can't even begin to tell you the viciousness of the reaction to my couch theorizing. I, for one, was so happy with the pregnant nascence of my effort that all i could think of was how much more i could add to all that i said last time.
And then she happened. A precocious little thing with too many opinions, she got into a virtual catfight demanding an explanation for my simplistic views.
Her points and (probably most of those who do end up reading what i put up yesterday).
1. Are things so black and white?
2. Is everything men do designed to "get some"?
Well. its like this. (its what i told her and i hope it makes sense to you too).
Its like you land in Mazgumma city and want to know everything about it! In your enthusiasm, you'll probably run out of steam ten miles out of the airport, hobbling as you would be between every nook, cranny and cafe you see.
Now if i gave you a sheet of paper that said
1. Mazgumma Palace: 10 miles out North west. (Take a tonga)
2. Mazgumma Museum: Behind airport. Walk.
3. Mazgumma Park: 6 miles south of airport. Its twenty square miles. Pack lunch.
4. Mazgumma strip bar: Look in the direction of the big bear, when it gets dark. The Neons. Minimum Tip charge: 10 Mazgus. Waitress bum pinch on the house.
Well, you bet that's not all there is to Mazgumma city, but you get my drift.
Take in the broad highlights, and then go looking for that tiny place, hidden away three miles out at Mozbulka Market, bang opposite Zenot bookstore, that serves Mazgumma's best panzanika.
To all accusations of simplicity, that what i have to say. An understanding of the subtleties need to follow a basic understanding.
A rather splendidly made point, i think.
And then she happened. A precocious little thing with too many opinions, she got into a virtual catfight demanding an explanation for my simplistic views.
Her points and (probably most of those who do end up reading what i put up yesterday).
1. Are things so black and white?
2. Is everything men do designed to "get some"?
Well. its like this. (its what i told her and i hope it makes sense to you too).
Its like you land in Mazgumma city and want to know everything about it! In your enthusiasm, you'll probably run out of steam ten miles out of the airport, hobbling as you would be between every nook, cranny and cafe you see.
Now if i gave you a sheet of paper that said
1. Mazgumma Palace: 10 miles out North west. (Take a tonga)
2. Mazgumma Museum: Behind airport. Walk.
3. Mazgumma Park: 6 miles south of airport. Its twenty square miles. Pack lunch.
4. Mazgumma strip bar: Look in the direction of the big bear, when it gets dark. The Neons. Minimum Tip charge: 10 Mazgus. Waitress bum pinch on the house.
Well, you bet that's not all there is to Mazgumma city, but you get my drift.
Take in the broad highlights, and then go looking for that tiny place, hidden away three miles out at Mozbulka Market, bang opposite Zenot bookstore, that serves Mazgumma's best panzanika.
To all accusations of simplicity, that what i have to say. An understanding of the subtleties need to follow a basic understanding.
A rather splendidly made point, i think.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Women
For all the literature in the world on women, there is still some scope for improvement. There are still millions of unmated men and women out there. All because they dont know the rules. Strange but True.
Well, in this edition of spewnotes, i try and cast some light on the matter. My locus standi? fuck knows. At any rate, here we go.
Women switch between two basic states, and if men have a hope of getting any, they need to cater to two of these all the time. Yes. All the time.
Woman to Child (W2C)....(HEIL THE HENPECK)
Basically, a Mom state. Very strongly defined in most women, its a simple state of mind needing to arrange the world in a pre-determined order. (The order itself is common to most women, but let's not get into that.) All you need to do is fall in with this order For eg: Bathing before Sunday lunch or some such.
If you try and be ultra-cool, and want your space, be careful. You may get it. For me, and most guys, i suspect, this is the state most difficult to get used to. It is like getting your maleness pounded into flaccid submission. Painful.
There is an upside to this though. (This note, written as it is being by an enlightened male, aims to share the cheerful state of existence of "been there, done that".)
If you time it right, you might get your fortnight's laundry done at bristling pace by woman in the throes of getting her world to look exactly like the way she wants it to look. All you have to do, is observe the frequency of above state. (This is very specific to each woman, but you might find that this eruption usually happens at the time of your favourite game on TV. You see, finding you in the middle of bristling constructive activity takes the fizz out of the whole exercise. Finding you somnolent watching "John Snead's amazing pool trickshots" is much more satisfying. Who said women werent logical?). Well anyways, it is important to let the woman squeeze as much satisfaction out of the entire episode. If this means that you hold on to your TV Couch, against all your gentlemanly instincts, do not budge. Secondly, try and leave all your unwashed laundry / cigarette butts / expired porno in one massive pile. Concentrate on the game. You'll find a squeaky clean den and a happily martyr like woman the next day.
(NOTE: A dangerous refinement - actually trying to incite this "W2C" state, when too lazy to do your laundry- is something best left to married men.)
Woman To Dad(W2D)...(CUDDLE THE COBRA)
A Child state. At times, the best part of women, its the state where they want to be hugged and protected. It brings out the Male instinct, and is a bit like alcohol in that respect. It fills you with that warm woozy feeling, suffusing every fibre of your being with a warm glow, makes you think you are the First Emperor, when all you are really doing is dissolving your insides in some harsh liquids and killing some brain cells. Women, really, are hardly any different.
Of course, there exists this particular brand of refined male, who having been through countless encounters of a similar type, and having had to deal with the aftermath, now know what this is. A heaven-sent opportunity to make out. And that's what it is. Just follow steps 1-3.
1. Do the cuddle.
2. Don't solve problems.
3. Whisper sweet nothings (And that's not as hypocritical as it sounds. Might sound like a paradox to males, but it is really a meaningful routine that works for women. A bit like the psychiatrist's couch).
4. Make out
Wonderful approach. Highly recommended.
Of course, there have been well-intentioned men, who have dismissed above approach as farcical. There are few of them left to tout the positives of their approach. (Most of them are either dead, single or temporarily gay). But some hieroglyphs have yielded the fact that their approach may have been not as wise as they had hoped.
Apparently, They followed the following steps:
1. Cuddled. (Honestly, this is instinctive)
2. Listened. (Apparently, this is where the disaster began.)
3. Reacted. ( One of the rare moments which was satisfying to both parties concerned)
4. Set out a plan to solve the problem (Ouch)
5. Went to bed with a plan and determined clench of the jaw.
6. Woke up to find woman considerably less victimized than she seemed the night before."AH! she's being brave! Attagirl." (Poor man. Clueless.)
7. Met woman the next evening. Expecting to be gazed at with loving adoration. Almost expecting the Final Token Of Male superiority - The Blow Job. Things dont go quite according to plan. Woman arrives somewhat peevish. Allegations of "running my life" ; "control freak" ; "obsessive" pile on late through the night.
8. Next morning, finds said male run over by bus. (Apparently didn't read the sign "Crossing the road while Wondering about why-girlfriend-dumped-me is Strictly Prohibited.")
On the whole, its a state that's responsible for keeping most relationships and marriages going.
These are the two states, that i like to think, are the ones that one needs to be aware of, if one is looking to get some. There are other more superficial states. Periods, Marriages and Engagements, that bring out some interesting shades in women.
We'll get into that sometime. Its late and i gotta get home!
Well, in this edition of spewnotes, i try and cast some light on the matter. My locus standi? fuck knows. At any rate, here we go.
Women switch between two basic states, and if men have a hope of getting any, they need to cater to two of these all the time. Yes. All the time.
Woman to Child (W2C)....(HEIL THE HENPECK)
Basically, a Mom state. Very strongly defined in most women, its a simple state of mind needing to arrange the world in a pre-determined order. (The order itself is common to most women, but let's not get into that.) All you need to do is fall in with this order For eg: Bathing before Sunday lunch or some such.
If you try and be ultra-cool, and want your space, be careful. You may get it. For me, and most guys, i suspect, this is the state most difficult to get used to. It is like getting your maleness pounded into flaccid submission. Painful.
There is an upside to this though. (This note, written as it is being by an enlightened male, aims to share the cheerful state of existence of "been there, done that".)
If you time it right, you might get your fortnight's laundry done at bristling pace by woman in the throes of getting her world to look exactly like the way she wants it to look. All you have to do, is observe the frequency of above state. (This is very specific to each woman, but you might find that this eruption usually happens at the time of your favourite game on TV. You see, finding you in the middle of bristling constructive activity takes the fizz out of the whole exercise. Finding you somnolent watching "John Snead's amazing pool trickshots" is much more satisfying. Who said women werent logical?). Well anyways, it is important to let the woman squeeze as much satisfaction out of the entire episode. If this means that you hold on to your TV Couch, against all your gentlemanly instincts, do not budge. Secondly, try and leave all your unwashed laundry / cigarette butts / expired porno in one massive pile. Concentrate on the game. You'll find a squeaky clean den and a happily martyr like woman the next day.
(NOTE: A dangerous refinement - actually trying to incite this "W2C" state, when too lazy to do your laundry- is something best left to married men.)
Woman To Dad(W2D)...(CUDDLE THE COBRA)
A Child state. At times, the best part of women, its the state where they want to be hugged and protected. It brings out the Male instinct, and is a bit like alcohol in that respect. It fills you with that warm woozy feeling, suffusing every fibre of your being with a warm glow, makes you think you are the First Emperor, when all you are really doing is dissolving your insides in some harsh liquids and killing some brain cells. Women, really, are hardly any different.
Of course, there exists this particular brand of refined male, who having been through countless encounters of a similar type, and having had to deal with the aftermath, now know what this is. A heaven-sent opportunity to make out. And that's what it is. Just follow steps 1-3.
1. Do the cuddle.
2. Don't solve problems.
3. Whisper sweet nothings (And that's not as hypocritical as it sounds. Might sound like a paradox to males, but it is really a meaningful routine that works for women. A bit like the psychiatrist's couch).
4. Make out
Wonderful approach. Highly recommended.
Of course, there have been well-intentioned men, who have dismissed above approach as farcical. There are few of them left to tout the positives of their approach. (Most of them are either dead, single or temporarily gay). But some hieroglyphs have yielded the fact that their approach may have been not as wise as they had hoped.
Apparently, They followed the following steps:
1. Cuddled. (Honestly, this is instinctive)
2. Listened. (Apparently, this is where the disaster began.)
3. Reacted. ( One of the rare moments which was satisfying to both parties concerned)
4. Set out a plan to solve the problem (Ouch)
5. Went to bed with a plan and determined clench of the jaw.
6. Woke up to find woman considerably less victimized than she seemed the night before."AH! she's being brave! Attagirl." (Poor man. Clueless.)
7. Met woman the next evening. Expecting to be gazed at with loving adoration. Almost expecting the Final Token Of Male superiority - The Blow Job. Things dont go quite according to plan. Woman arrives somewhat peevish. Allegations of "running my life" ; "control freak" ; "obsessive" pile on late through the night.
8. Next morning, finds said male run over by bus. (Apparently didn't read the sign "Crossing the road while Wondering about why-girlfriend-dumped-me is Strictly Prohibited.")
On the whole, its a state that's responsible for keeping most relationships and marriages going.
These are the two states, that i like to think, are the ones that one needs to be aware of, if one is looking to get some. There are other more superficial states. Periods, Marriages and Engagements, that bring out some interesting shades in women.
We'll get into that sometime. Its late and i gotta get home!
On my second post, and really, i am yet to establish an equation with my blog, puzzled as i am with this paradox of publicly personal note site. A bit like shooting vodka to sober you up.
I wonder what blog protocol is. Is it for selected public viewing (as in inviting mom and pop and the dying rich uncle to read it) or do i keep it separate from my social circle in the hope of attaracting some lissome lass from spain? ( A blog for a snog..i am sure that's not a unique concept..or as they say in Ukrainian..Item log pe impression marega)
I wonder what blog protocol is. Is it for selected public viewing (as in inviting mom and pop and the dying rich uncle to read it) or do i keep it separate from my social circle in the hope of attaracting some lissome lass from spain? ( A blog for a snog..i am sure that's not a unique concept..or as they say in Ukrainian..Item log pe impression marega)
I am Spew
Well. Hello. I am Spew.
..and i now have a blog. Except that i have no idea what to do with it.
I suppose we 'll figure it out as we go along.
That's a start. (Whew)
..and i now have a blog. Except that i have no idea what to do with it.
I suppose we 'll figure it out as we go along.
That's a start. (Whew)
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