The Infantile Male
Which is to say the one who is always looking around for opportunities to bank in his ... well, sperm? Fascinated with those mammary glands, not the ones he's most familiar with and has ready access to necessarily, but those just ripe for the plucking hanging heavy with desire - for him! - on the heaving chests of his vast array or admirers. This is a certain class of male, needless to say.
One quite convinced of the aura he exudes, utterly irresistible to women, who in fact fall all over themselves in their eagerness to attract his attention. And he is, of course, attracted. All that easy game, just waiting to be plucked and penetrated. Once the first of the lot has been tested and found quite delectable, curiosity and greed partner with lust and the game's on! (And no one's the wiser) the obvious conclusion.
Somehow, though, whether the guy's the neighbour down the street, a high-profile politician, an investment banker, a highly-remunerated actor or a sports celebrity, word gets out. Oh, I know, it's just so unfair, one's personal life should remain just that. Who, after all, really wants to know that the highly-respected heart surgeon whose skill has saved so many lives hankers over illicit, money-grubbing sex?
The shame of it? Yes, it is rather shameful, but guess what, hubris will carry the day, it always does and he brazens it out banking on short-term memory. And most marriages remain intact; women are good at that kind of thing, forgiveness and all that. Though not all. And whether or not the marriage weathers that particular storm, the event itself will never be forgotten.
It is a very particular assault upon a woman's sensibilities and pride. Just as it represented a massaging of the man's sensibilities and pride. We all have our little conceits, don't we? The thing of it is, in most instances, if a divorce is in the offing because the wife is not the suffering-forgiving type, the man faces deep emotional upheaval.
Funny, huh? His actions have tattered the trust and affection that he yet depends upon for stability in his life, unwilling to see himself 'abandoned' to his bachelor condition, and bereft of his beloved children. He cannot put his life back into the box as it was, as readily as he neatly pats his little man back into his trousers.
Love can weather just so much. The trauma of public ridicule and shame is capable of flushing a woman's love into the gutter her husband has just clambered out of. The thing is, the man likes to be the initiator of such things, and he also likes to control what comes next, but, alas and alack, he cannot.
He can't re-start the play because of choreography gone wrong. Life isn't a rehearsal, it's the real thing. What had been been boring, same-old, same-old, suddenly becomes precious - and no longer attainable. Tough break, huh?
One quite convinced of the aura he exudes, utterly irresistible to women, who in fact fall all over themselves in their eagerness to attract his attention. And he is, of course, attracted. All that easy game, just waiting to be plucked and penetrated. Once the first of the lot has been tested and found quite delectable, curiosity and greed partner with lust and the game's on! (And no one's the wiser) the obvious conclusion.
Somehow, though, whether the guy's the neighbour down the street, a high-profile politician, an investment banker, a highly-remunerated actor or a sports celebrity, word gets out. Oh, I know, it's just so unfair, one's personal life should remain just that. Who, after all, really wants to know that the highly-respected heart surgeon whose skill has saved so many lives hankers over illicit, money-grubbing sex?
The shame of it? Yes, it is rather shameful, but guess what, hubris will carry the day, it always does and he brazens it out banking on short-term memory. And most marriages remain intact; women are good at that kind of thing, forgiveness and all that. Though not all. And whether or not the marriage weathers that particular storm, the event itself will never be forgotten.
It is a very particular assault upon a woman's sensibilities and pride. Just as it represented a massaging of the man's sensibilities and pride. We all have our little conceits, don't we? The thing of it is, in most instances, if a divorce is in the offing because the wife is not the suffering-forgiving type, the man faces deep emotional upheaval.
Funny, huh? His actions have tattered the trust and affection that he yet depends upon for stability in his life, unwilling to see himself 'abandoned' to his bachelor condition, and bereft of his beloved children. He cannot put his life back into the box as it was, as readily as he neatly pats his little man back into his trousers.
Love can weather just so much. The trauma of public ridicule and shame is capable of flushing a woman's love into the gutter her husband has just clambered out of. The thing is, the man likes to be the initiator of such things, and he also likes to control what comes next, but, alas and alack, he cannot.
He can't re-start the play because of choreography gone wrong. Life isn't a rehearsal, it's the real thing. What had been been boring, same-old, same-old, suddenly becomes precious - and no longer attainable. Tough break, huh?
Labels: Human Fallibility, Human Relations
posted by Pieface | 5:11 PM
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