HAVE YE NOT READ? (a reading of the following article)
Stop for a moment and look, or imagine looking, at your wife, husband or significant other. When you can see them plainly in your mind take another moment to allow their image to embody every thought, feeling and experience you have ever had in your life as a result of them. Feel the vibration of their soul emanating from the physical image they are hidden inside of. Now ask yourself “if I were somehow not connected to this person by any means for purposes of survival; would I tolerate them in the experience of my life if given the choice?” Ouch. That’s got to hurt and I truly do apologize for the sucker punch to your perception. I didn’t mean to do you any harm and as a matter of fact my intent is quite the opposite. I intend to do you quite a bit of good in fact.
I remember watching Mission: Impossible 2 with a lady friend one evening and wryly looking out of the corner of my eye to examine her expression when the villain delivers the classic line, “You know women mate. Like monkey’s they are. Won’t let go of one branch until they get a firm grip on the next.” With my one, loose finger from the fist underneath my chin I tapped my cheekbone as she reacted exactly in the manner I had calculated she would before we put the movie on to begin with. Her eyes went supernova wide. Her jaw dropped towards her sternum as her mouth attempted to cover the gasp and the words “That is so fucked!” poured out from her lips. She turned her head to look at my reaction only to find that I had been staring at her the whole time.
“That’s just a fucked up thing to say; no?” she asked, by adding the word no at the end of a statement. If you do that please stop. If you end a question or phrase with the word no like it’s a verbal punctuation mark I want to let you in on something everyone thinks about you but happen to be too polite to say it to your face; you sound like a twit. So just stop it already.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“What that guy just said, you know, about women being like monkeys jumping from branch to branch. What is he trying to say, that all women are whores or something? That’s just not true.” My lady friend exclaimed.
I have to be honest, I did not even think in the slightest that this was about to be a teachable moment. I wouldn’t even go so far as to say anything was achieved or attained as a result with the exception of my own amusement that an a-typical battle of the sexes conversation was about to ensue. But it had been a while since I had engaged in one of those so what the hell. I thought it would be entertaining to pause the movie in progress and expound upon what the play actor had meant.
It is kind of a common stereotype of women amongst men that women do not evaluate relationships based on touchy feely things like emotions. Sure they put up a very good front that they do, so much so that entire industries have been built on this notion. Harlequin novels, soap operas, any song by Adele stand as witnesses to the prevailing myth that women select their life partners based off of…get this…Love. No, what Sean Ambrose’s monkey analogy reveals is the paint on the white elephant in the living room which is that women, like monkey’s swing on secure branches. This is not because they particularly care for the branch in aforementioned touchy, feely way rather because its current position, thickness and stability provide them with the opportunity to not plummet to their immediate deaths. They know where they want to go and they have plotted a course to retrieve the great ‘nanner of their dreams. It’s way high in the sky and they have to get up there so hey, a branch monkey bitch has to start somewhere doesn’t she? Many a heart broken male has felt the sting of being that first and lowest hanging branch as they watched some monkey ass swing upward and onward to a branch in the suburbs, the company, the political party or wherever that particular branch monkey bitch’s fantasy of happiness just so happens to end.
Now it can be said, and fairly so I think, that this is hardwired in women for the survival of the children. The idea is that a woman is genetically predisposed to select partners that will provide them something called security. Back in the cave folk days (I don’t know the politically correct term so I apologize if ye lesser evolved hath been offended) a woman would tend to attain the fastest, strongest alpha male hunter/gatherer because the odds of her children being provided for would be greatly increased. Nowadays society has replaced hunting and gathering with manifestation of imaginary money and intense fidelity to said imaginary money. Use to be the guy with the biggest club got the gal but we have…ahem…evolved to the guy with the biggest 401-K or credit limit on his plastic of choice. For the branch monkey bitches that play the long game the alpha male would also have a healthy pension plan and life insurance policies. Lots and lots of life insurance policies. At any rate or in whatever form it manifests itself, this type of behavior is predicated on the notion that it’s all about the kiddies. I shall let you be the judge on if that happens to be true or not but I will say this; as I have observed women doing this type of branch swinging thing for the provisions to their little ones, I have also observed branch monkey bitches utilizing the kiddies as leverage against the branch for purely selfish and self-serving purposes. Not trying to make any commentary right there, just saying it happens too.
To me this seems to be a problem and a stumbling block with male/female relations in that it suggests that all relationships are somewhat founded upon ulterior motives. The fact or theory that the ulterior motives just so happen to be for the propagation and survival of the next generation makes it even more mechanically bleak to me. What’s the point, so they can grow up to entangle themselves in meaningless yet survivable relationships that have some mystical net around them called security like we current dip shits do? No thank you. That’s not a species that particularly needs my overall participation. Boring people having boring babies that turn into boring people that have more boring babies. This does not sound like a grand design to me. Have you ever looked into the eyes of an emotionally single mom holding a kid that is married to the sperm donor of said kid for the simple reason that she cannot do this alone? Not because she is in love with the guy, not that he sweeps her off of her feet but because his job is steady and he doesn’t drink too much when the football game is on. To see women in that situation smile is the greatest of tragedies. Because when she does it screams off her face that she is the worst of pretenders and her despair and feeling of mundanity is eating her soul from the inside out and sooner or later it is going to poison the child itself. All for security.
So I could stop right there and let that be all I wish to put out there regarding my thoughts on relationships based on survival but that really wouldn’t be too awful fair to the ladies or intellectually honest to myself. Because the truth is, men do the exact same shit. I know men who honestly and openly advertise that the only reason they engage in relationships with the opposite sex is for security and material stuff and I have seen guys that love their kid stick with a psycho bitch because somewhere in their moral code is a foundation stone that forces them to believe it is always healthy for a kid to have both a mother and father regardless of how dysfunctional the pairing of the two may be. Regardless of how the silent and not so silent violence in loveless marriages traumatizes the absolute fuck out of the kid or kids having to grow up in that shit. Let me just be honest real quick, I don’t have mommy or daddy issues in that I love and respect my parents and can’t really blame them for any of my personal hang ups; so I might be speaking out of school here but bear me out. If you have ever heard your parents say something like ‘let’s just stay married long enough for the kids to turn 18’ or something similar; you need to deal with that shit okay? Like it or not, that had a profound effect on your psychology and once you look at it you might begin to understand your own personal relationships and see a correlation there, I don’t know. Just sayin’ you need to get that checked alright. Anyway, so men are just as guilty as women when it comes to entangling alliances even if it’s something as superficial as wanting to always have the prettiest and youngest model on his arm; that too is a form of security when you go all Sigmund Freud on it.
It seems that humanity has been rearing and raising its offering to the future based off of this thing called security and I have to admit this has been a puzzle I have had trouble with for some time. How can you know if a person really, truly loves you and doesn’t engage with you because in some form or fashion they are benefiting in some way; in some way being with you makes them secure? Until recently I had on several occasions repeated the mantra “women need security and men need honor and respect” but a brief conversation with my friend Jason Patrick stopped me from ever saying it again. With a chuckle Jason said “But security is just an illusion man.” And he would know. That one little quip turned my whole perspective on its head. Security is indeed just an illusion in the microcosmic of this moving thing we call life in the expanse of the Universe and nothing is really ever certain. That being said, I reject the idea that survival based relationships are genetically hard wired into our nature. I don’t believe that is truly who we are in our core. Perhaps it is one of the last shreds of darkness we need to remove from our collective ego and begin exploring the nature of relationships based on…get this crazy shit…Love. And I am not speaking about gift shop love with teddy bears, candy and family vacations on the lake. I am speaking about the spiritual and speechless thirst inside of us all to be accepted, admired and adored by another human being, for simply being who we truly are. That kind of Love takes you to places you can’t fit in a Polaroid my friends. Call me an optimist, but if sperm and egg start dancin’ to the vibration of supernal love then maybe we can get some fancy new DNA from that bag of shake and bake and make some progress in the Universe, no?
So I suppose I will end this exactly the way I began it. Stop for a moment and look, or imagine looking, at your wife, husband or significant other. When you can see them plainly in your mind take another moment to allow their image to embody every thought, feeling and experience you have ever had in your life as a result of them. Feel the vibration of their soul emanating from the physical image they are hidden inside of. Now ask yourself “if I were somehow not connected to this person by any means for purposes of survival; would I tolerate them in the experience of my life if given the choice?” It is going to be a difficult thing to do for many, an impossible thing to change for most but for a few this act will be the doorway to a much more exciting and fulfilling life I think. When you can have a relationship that has the passion of a Florence and the Machine song then you will know you’ve made it. Nos vemos.
A SONG TO PLAY US OUT…