In the battle of the sexes a man with a fully loaded gun simply has more firepower.Trust me ladies, there is nothing we have that shoots that far.
True, when my milk came in with baby number one my breasts did take on a garden sprinkler quality.
But breast milk is at best PH neutral.
As ammunition, it is loaded with fail.
I sometimes why we even bother to pretend to want to battle each other anyway.
Look at what we get if we win.
Each other.
I like men, don't get me wrong.
I like them as friends and as lovers.
I once even married one.
I like the way the look.........and when they think, I like that too.
I respect men for their differences, and I am grateful they exist but as creatures I think we are so completely different in terms of pre-birth wiring I am amazed we have not already accidentally killed each other off.
Thank God we have different mating apparatus is all I can say.
Nature is not so stupid after all.
I get to work with children a couple of times a week.
It's always enlightening.
My contact with them always involves performance, so I get to see the side of them that is more to do with EQ as opposed to IQ.
That's OK.
I like that part of people.
Even small people.
This week I was directing a drama class for very small people, aged 5 and 6.
Drama is a good leveler because performance involves creativity, energy, trust, acceptance and self control.
Most people have at least one of those functions.
Some have lots, some have all.
Boys have a maximum of 4.
Guess which one they lack.
Little boys, I have discovered, have almost ZERO...and by that I mean ABSOLUTELY FUCKING ZERO self control.
They are not unintelligent.
Ask your average 5 year old boy about the significant dinosaurs of the Mesozoic period and he will rattle off a hundred palaeontological facts that would put Wiki to shame.
Ask him to stop running and smashing into his mates then trying to touch them on the bum whilst in a pile on the floor, and boys appear deaf and blind and 50 IQ points lower.
In the same group, a bunch of girls will happily imitate the actions of a bunny in time to music.
The inappropriate touching 5 year old boys rabbits will suddenly sprout guns from their paws and slay each other in a vicious showdown of cyborg nature verses improbable scenario nurture.
Why must boys insist on conquering EVERYTHING?
Is it not enough that they will eventually get bigger?
Must testosterone insert 'lack of listening' from conception?
If I wanted a room filled with half petrified floppy eared females and a heap of small boys with welts on their foreheads, I'd have made the instructions clear.
Of course, there is always one 'sensitive' boy in the group.
I always mutter to myself 'He's gay', and he may well be, both of my outrageously over sized and much loved sons are gay....but to be honest, I think in drama classes my lads were the ones hurling imaginary hand grenades screaming "DIE MOTHER FUCKER" when approaching the 3 little pigs houses.
Not wishing to die during a game of Duck Duck Goose does not mean you are a gay.
I am not saying this behaviour is invalid, by the way.
I pass no judgement at all.
I merely note that it is fundamentally wired in.
Pre-set.
Default.
Boys work one way, girls work another.
Girls can be wild and crazy, and can come up with a million ways to harm and maim benign living creatures.
They just don't immediately assume that every 2 minute skit has to involve numb-chucks and an ambulance.
I also work with teens a couple of times a week.
They come from every corner of the Earth.
Culture and custom play very little importance when it comes to who must die and why in fairy stories.
True, if the male students are ethnically Asian, there may be some extra bowing involved just before Cinderella cops it with an AK47 at the ball, but I am waiting for the day when the wolf eats Red Riding hood with some sense of decorum, or the same said wolf is chopped with one mighty blow rather than being hacked to death with a thousand whacks delivered by a smiling wood chopping assassin.
It's no wonder more men get caught and sent to jail for murder.
Men do not do subtly.
From birth they surmise that if one will work , they may as well use ten.
That if fast is good, faster is better.
Why use a quiet voice, when a loud one is louder?
And why use that voice when shouting is available?
I am aware, for the record, that men find women equally bewildering.
Which is why I sometimes wonder why we even try.
A group calling themselves The Gentleman's Rant on you tube are all about why women are irrational and make stupid decisions.
Some of their points I get.
Why DO women wear such high heels, then complain that their feet are sore?
Well, actually, we know why....I do it too and in a much earlier blog I talked about the biological reasons and the thing with the butt etc etc etc....yes, women are complex....and men are not.
I get it.
Opposites attract and all, but I am getting suspicious.
If men and women speak such different languages and see the World in such different ways, is being together logical?
I'm not saying we all seek out same sex partners, I am asking if we need to go through the rigmarole of the battle in order to find a truce.
Because that's what we are doing make no mistake.
The other day a married friend excitedly announced "Oh you have to meet so and so, he's single and I think you two would be perfect together"
My immediate thought was "Why? What's wrong with him?"
I am no shrinking violet, and any man brave enough to step in the ring had better bring his A game.
I will go down *cough*, but not without a fight.
And frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Anything worth having is worth fighting for.....but I hardly think we are on the same planet as men, let alone in the same field.
Perhaps it's time we women just faced up to the honest truth and accepted that in the battle of the sexes, like all good wars, you need Generals...and you need cannon fodder.
We are the Generals.
The men are there to run about and huff and puff about being pumped up or some such thing.
We ought to let them.
Eventually they will tire themselves out anyway and then come in for band aids and further instructions.
By that time we should have been able to get some work done.
Less obvious confrontation , more manipulation ladies, that's what I am suggesting.
Skin that cat with stealth.
He wants to battle the other Knights of the Boardroom Table for the afternoon, or smash some heads in another macho display of might over matter, then why not offer to hold his balls for him in case they get injured.
That way, he knows where they are, and you always have them safely in your hands.
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