Well, because I think, like I say, the kinds of men who have survived
historically are not those kinds of men. There are men who, three thousand
years ago, walked off into the jungle, and I don't have their genes in me.
I'm telling you, so much of this is evolution and biology.
But you said some really unbelievably good things…there were three or
four that I wish I could address. One of them has to do with women's basic
level of insecurity. It's called shame
as opposed to guilt
is when you feel bad about yourself and you don't know why,
is when you did something wrong so you know why you feel bad
about yourself. But women are much more deeply shamed than men, and you
can sit down and watch TV, and it's constantly: the men are stupid, the wife
is telling the guy what to buy. I mean, it suffuses our culture. And all
you have to do is imagine doing the obverse of those commercials where the
man knows everything and the woman is just a bimbo, and nobody would respond
to those commercials and they'd turn the TV's off. I mean there's a layer
of sensitivity that women have that's probably good for some kind of family
relations or something that I don't understand…but I want to get back
to the obliviousness issue because that's what you're really talking about
here and I want to read this three minute thing, Dan, okay?
Are Men the Oppressors of Women or are Women the
Oppressors of Men?
(This is part of the answer to Sue's thing because men don't understand
A woman wakes up in the morning, in a house built by men.
She starts the water to boil on a stove built by men, and sits at a chair and
table, put there by men, to read a newspaper written, in part, by
women…but printed and delivered by men…She nibbles some toast,
made from grains, grown and harvested by men….whoops…Time to
take a shower. She turns a faucet handle installed by a man, and lo and
behold…out comes HOT water, delivered by a vastly complicated water
system, built by men. She drives to work in a car built by men, on roads
built by men, powered by petroleum, drilled and refined and delivered by men.
She arrives at an office building built by men. Walks to her desk, fires up
her computer, and glances out her window at a city… built by
men…full of potential customers for her service business… Out
of the corner of her eye, a table in the conference room, that seems
awkwardly out of place, snags her attention. She strokes her ear lobe. At
that moment, the janitor scoots by in the hallway.
“Bob! Oh Bob. Could you PLEASE move that table,
further into the corner. You're such a dear.” She pins him, with a
delectable, and utterly phony smile. Bob, oblivious to the cheapness of the
words, and falseness of the smile…thrilled to get any attention at
all, from such an attractive person…pitches right in. And as he lugs
one corner of the heavy table, across the carpet, she exhales a comfortable
sigh. Her day, has begun.
She will spend the next 8 to 10 hours telling OTHER
people, what to do. That's HER understanding of work. This creature, who has
NO idea WHERE things come from, HOW they are made, and has not the slightest
knowledge, about HOW the world works, has been put in CHARGE of
it…because there is really nothing else, of any specific value, she
COULD be doing.
- Podcast #12, The Rude Guy