A Southern Fried Mess

Insanity is a southern necessity…

Why is it?

Since the dawn of time, the female species has forever  been attracted to the brooding male. I mean as soon as you show us one, we go all stupid and throw any common sense we might have had straight out the window. Why is that?

Is it because  we feel the need to sooth his dark, tortured soul?  Or, in the case of Hollywood, could it be because of his rugged good looks and lack of conversational skills and table manners (and sometimes his lack of any kind of acting ability)? Is it the danger factor  they represent? The bad boy who refuses to conform and blows cigarette smoke in the face of authority?

I think it has to do with this stupid little emotion placed in us women called Nurturing. Kind of a Florence Nightingale syndrome. The woman feels an uncontrollable desire to help and comfort the so called hurting male.  Much like a mother will hold and protect an upset child. It’s what we were made for after all… to be the ‘help mate’ for the male species.

We feel we can it is our duty to change him too in this process of  ‘helping’.  Mold him into a new, happier, better person. One who will join Green Peace and sort the recyclables; one who will want to carry on long meaningful conversations about feelings while watching a lifetime movie. One who will put the toilet seat down after he’s relieved himself, replace the empty toilet paper roll, and actually put his dirty cloths in the hamper.   Of course what we failed to realize is, you insane women, if  we did that we would no longer be attracted to him.

I also think it may have  to do with our reproductive genes and their tiny little brains.  Our genes seem to think that one brooding male equals secretiveness and that in turn equals danger. Women like danger. And danger will equal strength. Strength means survival and strong genetic offspring and thus deserves our attraction and attention. How stupid. See, I told you that we loose all control of our common sense.

All the above sprang up from my current reading of The Picture Of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.  I found myself strangely rooting for Dorian. Even though he committed some very unspeakable, cruel acts throughout the story like murder amongst other very distasteful things.  I couldn’t understand why I was attracted to him.  And honestly, I’m still not really sure why.  Maybe because my common sense went flying out the window the first time he  picked up a cigarette, ran his fingers through his long hair, and began brooding.


June 29, 2010 Posted by | books, humor, life, Uncategorized | , , | 2 Comments