In the old days, all you had to do was beat up a mammoth, fight off giant cats with a stick, and invent deodorant and air conditioning. Things have got a bit more complex lately.
Now, you gotta be masculine. You know, like all those non-existent role models. Indiana Jones and the Locker Room of Doom. The Lone Homeboy. Sprinkles the Superhero. You’ll notice nobody has yet come up with a superhero that pays your rent.
There are few things more half-ass than male role models.
“Well, ma’am, I could see he was trying to take your ranch. So I shot him with this Subway sandwich. Now we can be married and have timid little demographics.”
“Oh, Smugly! You beast hunk of a thing in a warehouse, you!”
Etc.
Classy as this is and always was, now it’s an industry. Nothing sells like insecurity. Groveling practice is now standard training for executives and other ruminants. You can do workshops and retreats for thousands of dollars and become the dazzling two-dimensional man someone else thinks you should be. You get to feel secure, according to the two remaining brain cells that haven’t escaped yet.
Meanwhile, Tarzan, you can be fed “masculine” propaganda 24/7 online. You can learn things like how to have catastrophic relationships with any female you meet. Nothing like a few dozen divorces to really cheer you up. How to suicidally antagonize any actual males you meet. “Be assertive…” Thud. Crash. Shriek. And you get to pay for it, you shrewd Machiavellian bit of furniture, you.
It’s easy. Simply stick up an image of a non-existent guy looking heroic or successful, or preferably both. Project an image of extreme masculinity with a hook line. You need something catchy and easy to remember and understand like “Duh…Hyuck”. Do another unforgettable rap using the hook. Then just wait for the money to come rolling in.
You honestly think this is being done for your benefit? Someone sends you a winch and says it’ll improve your love life, and you believe it? Maybe they’re selflessly saving you from all those thousands of dollars you would otherwise have? Allowing you to believe being male is somehow safer and saner thanks to buying all that merch?
You’re on the wrong planet.
Then there’s the “patriarchy”. These are apparently dead geriatric hicks who remember the Stone Age and liked it so much they stayed there. These ancient little boys are terrified of girls, women, kids, facts, responsibility, and those awful nasty bullying moths that you see hanging around.
Patriarchy means “fathers”. They exist only in hierarchies because they couldn’t survive anywhere else. It’s usually a hierarchy of mindless boozers pretending they’re still in college. They’re all about them. Any suggestion of related masculinity is an irony, not a character reference.
These ridiculous, ineffectual, stagnant, stupid untrustworthy fools are to masculinity what hemorrhoids are to ballet – Entirely useless. They’re a choir of simpering yes-“men”. They’re only called “men” because we’re a bit short of other gender choices for mammals.
This sort of masculinity is basically at the Friday night second keg level for losers. It’s entirely theoretical. Hanging around with the boys is roughly the next best thing to beating yourself to death with a phone bill. Almost as interesting, too.
Meanwhile, in guy-land, male students are achieving record levels of failure. If they didn’t have phones, you’d never guess they were alive. Since about 1980 guys have been required to be thicker than any number of short planks.
“Look at that nerd! He even knows how to open doors!”, and so on.
You have to be an idiot. It’s compulsory. You’re allowed to watch porn and sport, and you have to pretend to understand either or both. You pay to watch other people have sex. You’re that smart.
Nobody’s doing a damn thing about this. It’s great to be an illiterate nobody, with or without a college degree. You’re a guy! Guys don’t read! Neither do cockroaches, no coincidence there. At least, you’re a guy according to someone, perhaps not you, but who cares what you think? You’re not allowed to care, remember?
“Duh Hyuck” is all you need to know.
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Disclaimer
The opinions expressed in this Op-Ed are those of the author. They do not purport to reflect the opinions or views of the Digital Journal or its members.
