They
either make you feel guilty, or make you guilty.
There's no way to play as if it's a fine team game with
the object of shared joy and shared goals. They want to be coach and captain,
critic and author, judge, jury, jailer and one of the crowd that jeers..
To say that they are manipulative is to miss the point.
They live by, through, and with manipulation as fish fuck in water and
birds shit from the air above. Without the paranoia of relationships, and
all the ills of having and raising heirs and graces, they behave like wild
animals taken from the vicious cut and thrust of the wild wood. Take the
beast from bloodthirstiness and offer it a loving caress and it will tear
at your flesh with eyes that say 'look what you made me do'.
When they meet a friend who is not one of them they cannot
believe in trust nor can they trust in what they profess to believe. Love,
honour, sharing, caring - fine sentiments, but the truth of the matter
is, they don't dare be sentimental. They can act as one pack or as solitary
hunters and mark out their territory clearly to each other. To us, their
prey and herd animals, these markings are mysterious and always mutating.
Yet, despite their brutality and primal behaviour, we're clearly the less
evolved subspecies. They will always win, for we are at the mercy of our
pricks, that brief tip of the iceberg of pleasure. They are driven by a
womb and the vastness of reproduction. The score will always be: Men one,
Women a multitude.
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