Sproiii…iii…iiing
The sky is blue, the sun is shining, the weather is mild, spring is … if not sprung then at least … erm … springing … I am cisgender, heterosexual and women have breasts.
This is (as Aura will, I am sure, attest) the most dangerous confluence of circumstances known to man (if not all mankind).
Once again, therefore, I have a request to make of you all.
At the end of the day we are animals like any other species …
No matter how sophisticated our higher order cognitive processes may seem to us as we sit outside our local Starbucks talking about how we just want a partner with whom we can share our interest in applied metaphysics … with a Sartrean approach to Life coupled with an Aristotolean-Platonic perception of perfection … we have the same primordial urges supplied to us by the cerebellum as the football supporters spewing up on the pavement opposite.
So, it being (sort of) spring, I have a favour to ask of my friends …
Please, should you become aware of me noticing, discussing or referring to members of the opposite sex ¹ with anything other than the usual, appropriately misanthropic, disdain I reserve for the entire Human Race … as if they were somehow any different to the rest of it … bring it to my attention with a baseball bat, broken bottle, or whatever other suitable delusional-attitude correctional tools happen to be near to hand.
Thankyou.
¹ There’s a reason it’s called the opposite sex: we’re incompatible — and so long as heterosexuality involves both men and women, it is doomed to fail miserably.
What we need is a third sex, like flowers have — plants have three sexes: male, female and bees, so that the male and female plants may breed without ever having to meet, let alone spend time getting on each other’s nerves and, ultimately, despising and abusing each other.
I suspect that hermaphrodites were meant to be our third sex … but something went wrong along the way and they’re sterile, so we’re stuck with sex-drives that attract us to people we haven’t a hope of understanding as long as we live … leading to heart-ache and misery as a result ².
² I think the reason women have breasts must be to remind us all that they are women even when they appear sane — an unmistakable and unmissable visual alert … an early warning system. Because, otherwise, we’d be taken in by their smooth curves and soft voices — you know … like any other predator with a lure to fool their prey into a false sense of security and entice them within reach of fang and claw and sting.
If ever I were going to be persuaded of the existence of a benign God, that He should have done us all that kindness must surely be a strong argument in favour of my doing so — “God gave women breasts as a warning” is not entirely unpersuasive, you gotta admit.
