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d_aulnoySo, after long and long, I'm slowly working my way into the twentieth century (yes, I know today's date) and acquiring a web-presence. First I started small, just a web-site and a couple of lists. Then, my friends said, "Come on ... everybody's doing it ..." and I knuckled under, and here we all are, at Helen's Livejournal. Peer pressure can be a beautiful thing ... After dragging my heels for so long, I barely know what to say at long last. Should I talk about my one great passion in life - fairy tales? Maybe ... but I'm academically exhausted. I wanna talk about something completely removed from the realms of the intellect. Ah, I know! It's just been *one of those days.* Therefore, first topic nom inated for discussion is - romance.
"Hey, psst-psst-psst ..."
Everybody wants to fall in love - you, me, and all the guys hanging out in front of the Off Track Betting Center. This is, of course, a generalization - but it’s one that has sound psychological and sociological definitions, the precise parameters of which depend entirely upon the technical definition of love on the part of the individual. For some, love means finding someone whom they would die for, whom they would die without, someone with whom to have children, to grow old, to snuggle, to laugh, to respect and adore. For others, love is just some bizarre cross between a biological imperative and a fulfillment of the need to be acknowledged - as virile, as attractive, as powerful - and in some ways, these latter folk may be luckier, particularly in light of the adage that if your expectations are low, then you will never be disappointed. Well, almost never - this generalization is somewhat less successful than the first - because, logically, if the expectations are low, the effort engaged in achieving them is correspondingly lower, and thus somewhat more likely to fail.
Hence this essay, intended for the edification of those who are both lovelorn and misguided, on behalf of their unfortunate and uninterested intended beloveds. For, frankly, if the targets/victims of those whose goals are lesser rather than greater - those who are after the ubiquitous one thing that we’re always hearing about - act on the assumption that their reality (wherein those who court are courteous, and wherein passive aggressive acts as a single concept rather than a working dichotomy) then they - or perhaps, more accurately, we? - are simply succumbing to the barbarians at the gate. When we react to the lack of courtesy demonstrated by the men who catcall, harass, and abuse us passively, we encourage their behavior to continue. Instead, why not try to bring some courtship back to the process by providing a clear indication that there methodology is flawed? Why not use whatever means prove to be most effective? In such cases, those means must be aggressive - otherwise, the message just doesn’t get across. By going through one of these encounters step-by-step, by placing ourselves in the mind of the beast, so to speak, it is possible to see why these means are necessary, but vital.
"Nice eyes/lips/legs/ass/body part of choice."
Women - and men for that matter - quite enjoy being informed of their own attractiveness. However, there is an enormous difference between a compliment and the imposition of someone else’s perceptions over one’s own concerns. Picture (or perhaps remember would be a better word, as almost everyone has experienced a variation on this theme) walking down a street, wrapped in your thoughts, pondering some personal concern, maybe important, maybe as inconsequential as what to eat for dinner or which friend to call first - only to be yanked rudely back to reality by a voice seeking to bring your attention to their appraisal of your charm(s). The rationale behind such moments seems to work on the basic premise that, of course the nubile fourteen year old requires the reassurances of the aging bicycle messenger’s attention, that naturally the successful female executive would be interested, nay, fascinated in the decision reached by that quorum of barely pubescent boys concerning the success or lack thereof of her spike heels emphasis of her calves.
The whole system is based on the assumption by the speaker of his own worth, balanced against his perception of his target’s supposed insecurity and need for solace (and while there are exceptions, while to presume inherent superiority on behalf of women everywhere would be to undermine the case even while stating it - let’s be honest - the majority of these walking infringements upon etiquette are, in fact, male; thus, the pronoun stands). The theory seems to be that the poor gal will be so glad of the attention, so flattered by and grateful for the compliment (either the literal vocalization or just the simple compliment of his regard) that she will A), finally notice him, presumably having been too wrapped up in the extensive cataloguing of her own deficiencies to have been able to sufficiently appreciate his own no doubt extensive attributes, and B) fall gratefully into his arms.
"Ya want a riiiide? *snigger*"
So when is the last time that you responded like positively to something like that? Or for that matter, saw anyone else do so? Heard about it second-hand, perhaps? Best friend’s cousin’s sister knew a girl in college who ... - yeah, me neither. In point of fact, no one ever does - the whole idea is based on a fallacious assessment of the human psyche. Quite simply, anyone who was so sadly lacking in confidence that they could potentially be affected for better or worse by an off-the-cuff comment by a stranger would lack the confidence to respond - and the rest of the species would have better things to do. The typical reaction to such a - ah, creative? - approach to the initiation of meaningful dialogue is, quite simply to ignore it. However, contrary to what our mothers may have told us during the first faltering encounters with such overtures of affection (having pigtails yanked or creative nicknames applied in the schoolyard would seem to be the closest equivalents - Mom: "He’s only doing it because he likes you ..."), ignoring them does not make them go away.
The only redeeming element which could be salvaged from the characters of guys like these, presumably under far different circumstances (rescuing a child from a burning building perhaps?), is that of persistence. Thus, rather than philosophically accepting rejection, the first attempt is usually followed by a second, phrased somewhat more forcefully. This second attempt is usually liberally laced with some sort of lewd innuendo, a strategy which can again be succinctly summed up through a two-part answer. First, this approach may succeed where the first one failed if the object of his affection thought his comment was a rhetorical statement rather than a come-on - kind of like commenting on the weather ("Beautiful day", "Nice rack", what’s the dif?), not requiring a response, in which case the more direct approach may clarify matters. Simply, if the lady is aware of his amorous intentions, then giving in to her own natural, uncontrollable, animalistic attraction will not make her feel like a tramp - he is sparing her the embarrassment of having to make the first move. Who says chivalry is dead? Secondly, if all else fails - if she is, perhaps, hearing-impaired - then it’ll be good for a laugh with his friends.
"Hey, miss? Miss? Miss! ...Cunt."
Progressively - after reality becomes apparent even to the perceptually challenged - the visceral response crosses that thin line from lust to aggression, more commonly termed love to hate. For most women - or so informal polls assert - this is the most offensive part of the whole deal. First, we’re appraised by guys who seem kinda like the walking equivalent to the sort of stuff which we’d pass over at a sample sale. Then, we’re forced to picture them picturing us engaging with them in the kind of behavior indicated by the typical double entendre. Having suffered silently through all that, we are then subjected to outright abuse. It’s enough to make you empathize with Job.
What we, at this point, fail to realize, is that we have somehow precisely played out our preset roles. In the simplistic minds of the kind of people who act like this, there are two kinds of behavior: passive and aggressive. The idea of their amalgamation is foreign (naturally, they’re also unfamiliar with terminology such as amalgamation - much less could they be expected to muster up the argument of the oxymoron). The assumption is, that if you’re not protesting, you’re encouraging. At the point at which their feeble minds conceive that the lack of response is, in and of itself, a type of response - that is when the "friendly" aggression disappears, to be replaced with pure, unadulterated assault - which is, more often than not, met in kind. At this point, typically, the urge to keep them from triumphing over centuries of painfully developed courtesy with their lowest common denominator mentality is irresistible. The need to reject our mother’s argument against descending to their level, and do so, for just long enough to, as they would most likely say, kick @$$ is undeniable. And frankly, the rewards of making all of the logical points which this essay merely paraphrases on behalf of the outraged emotions of everyone who has ever experienced some form of this (usually in the most obscenity-laden words possible) can be paralleled only by long-term satisfaction of thwarting the image of femininity which they are renewing - that of women as purely passive through ill-applied attempts at passive aggression . Has anyone ever walked away from an encounter like this feeling empowered? Superior? Not if things end at this point. Luckily, the instigators of these sessions rarely allow them to.
"Whassamatta, ya think you’re too good for me or sumpin?"
This is the point at which most such victims of harassment - you, me, and in the unlikely scenario of this ever happening to the friendly crew taking up precious space in front of the OTB, even them - finally snap. This is where the arguments start, and where victory is most often won. And, due to the surpassing obviousness of any answer that could be given to that hypothetical question , this is where my argument ends. Just ... keep the argument going. The specific insults and imprecations (so many comebacks; so little time) are irrelevant, tailored to suit the specific individual and occasion and thus immaterial for this particular discussion. It is the initiation of the dialogue itself which is important, because that is the only way to effectively and accurately convey our displeasure, and the reasons for it, which are not based not in a disdain for the men behind the machismo - who are, admittedly short, fat, tacky, and frequently smelly. However, there are plenty of vertically challenged, obese, receding, odoriferous gentlemen who are kind, generous, and sweet-tempered, who are in happy and well-deserved relationships. The issues which infuriate us lie in the sheer offensiveness of their blunt, abrasive, and abusive techniques. Using passive aggression with guys like these is kinda like yelling at someone who speaks a different language - Yo no compredo? - because while the emotions might get across, the reasons behind them will not. Instead, use the international language of actualized anger, and make your feelings known.
"Hey, psst-psst-psst ..."
Everybody wants to fall in love - you, me, and all the guys hanging out in front of the Off Track Betting Center. This is, of course, a generalization - but it’s one that has sound psychological and sociological definitions, the precise parameters of which depend entirely upon the technical definition of love on the part of the individual. For some, love means finding someone whom they would die for, whom they would die without, someone with whom to have children, to grow old, to snuggle, to laugh, to respect and adore. For others, love is just some bizarre cross between a biological imperative and a fulfillment of the need to be acknowledged - as virile, as attractive, as powerful - and in some ways, these latter folk may be luckier, particularly in light of the adage that if your expectations are low, then you will never be disappointed. Well, almost never - this generalization is somewhat less successful than the first - because, logically, if the expectations are low, the effort engaged in achieving them is correspondingly lower, and thus somewhat more likely to fail.
Hence this essay, intended for the edification of those who are both lovelorn and misguided, on behalf of their unfortunate and uninterested intended beloveds. For, frankly, if the targets/victims of those whose goals are lesser rather than greater - those who are after the ubiquitous one thing that we’re always hearing about - act on the assumption that their reality (wherein those who court are courteous, and wherein passive aggressive acts as a single concept rather than a working dichotomy) then they - or perhaps, more accurately, we? - are simply succumbing to the barbarians at the gate. When we react to the lack of courtesy demonstrated by the men who catcall, harass, and abuse us passively, we encourage their behavior to continue. Instead, why not try to bring some courtship back to the process by providing a clear indication that there methodology is flawed? Why not use whatever means prove to be most effective? In such cases, those means must be aggressive - otherwise, the message just doesn’t get across. By going through one of these encounters step-by-step, by placing ourselves in the mind of the beast, so to speak, it is possible to see why these means are necessary, but vital.
"Nice eyes/lips/legs/ass/body part of choice."
Women - and men for that matter - quite enjoy being informed of their own attractiveness. However, there is an enormous difference between a compliment and the imposition of someone else’s perceptions over one’s own concerns. Picture (or perhaps remember would be a better word, as almost everyone has experienced a variation on this theme) walking down a street, wrapped in your thoughts, pondering some personal concern, maybe important, maybe as inconsequential as what to eat for dinner or which friend to call first - only to be yanked rudely back to reality by a voice seeking to bring your attention to their appraisal of your charm(s). The rationale behind such moments seems to work on the basic premise that, of course the nubile fourteen year old requires the reassurances of the aging bicycle messenger’s attention, that naturally the successful female executive would be interested, nay, fascinated in the decision reached by that quorum of barely pubescent boys concerning the success or lack thereof of her spike heels emphasis of her calves.
The whole system is based on the assumption by the speaker of his own worth, balanced against his perception of his target’s supposed insecurity and need for solace (and while there are exceptions, while to presume inherent superiority on behalf of women everywhere would be to undermine the case even while stating it - let’s be honest - the majority of these walking infringements upon etiquette are, in fact, male; thus, the pronoun stands). The theory seems to be that the poor gal will be so glad of the attention, so flattered by and grateful for the compliment (either the literal vocalization or just the simple compliment of his regard) that she will A), finally notice him, presumably having been too wrapped up in the extensive cataloguing of her own deficiencies to have been able to sufficiently appreciate his own no doubt extensive attributes, and B) fall gratefully into his arms.
"Ya want a riiiide? *snigger*"
So when is the last time that you responded like positively to something like that? Or for that matter, saw anyone else do so? Heard about it second-hand, perhaps? Best friend’s cousin’s sister knew a girl in college who ... - yeah, me neither. In point of fact, no one ever does - the whole idea is based on a fallacious assessment of the human psyche. Quite simply, anyone who was so sadly lacking in confidence that they could potentially be affected for better or worse by an off-the-cuff comment by a stranger would lack the confidence to respond - and the rest of the species would have better things to do. The typical reaction to such a - ah, creative? - approach to the initiation of meaningful dialogue is, quite simply to ignore it. However, contrary to what our mothers may have told us during the first faltering encounters with such overtures of affection (having pigtails yanked or creative nicknames applied in the schoolyard would seem to be the closest equivalents - Mom: "He’s only doing it because he likes you ..."), ignoring them does not make them go away.
The only redeeming element which could be salvaged from the characters of guys like these, presumably under far different circumstances (rescuing a child from a burning building perhaps?), is that of persistence. Thus, rather than philosophically accepting rejection, the first attempt is usually followed by a second, phrased somewhat more forcefully. This second attempt is usually liberally laced with some sort of lewd innuendo, a strategy which can again be succinctly summed up through a two-part answer. First, this approach may succeed where the first one failed if the object of his affection thought his comment was a rhetorical statement rather than a come-on - kind of like commenting on the weather ("Beautiful day", "Nice rack", what’s the dif?), not requiring a response, in which case the more direct approach may clarify matters. Simply, if the lady is aware of his amorous intentions, then giving in to her own natural, uncontrollable, animalistic attraction will not make her feel like a tramp - he is sparing her the embarrassment of having to make the first move. Who says chivalry is dead? Secondly, if all else fails - if she is, perhaps, hearing-impaired - then it’ll be good for a laugh with his friends.
"Hey, miss? Miss? Miss! ...Cunt."
Progressively - after reality becomes apparent even to the perceptually challenged - the visceral response crosses that thin line from lust to aggression, more commonly termed love to hate. For most women - or so informal polls assert - this is the most offensive part of the whole deal. First, we’re appraised by guys who seem kinda like the walking equivalent to the sort of stuff which we’d pass over at a sample sale. Then, we’re forced to picture them picturing us engaging with them in the kind of behavior indicated by the typical double entendre. Having suffered silently through all that, we are then subjected to outright abuse. It’s enough to make you empathize with Job.
What we, at this point, fail to realize, is that we have somehow precisely played out our preset roles. In the simplistic minds of the kind of people who act like this, there are two kinds of behavior: passive and aggressive. The idea of their amalgamation is foreign (naturally, they’re also unfamiliar with terminology such as amalgamation - much less could they be expected to muster up the argument of the oxymoron). The assumption is, that if you’re not protesting, you’re encouraging. At the point at which their feeble minds conceive that the lack of response is, in and of itself, a type of response - that is when the "friendly" aggression disappears, to be replaced with pure, unadulterated assault - which is, more often than not, met in kind. At this point, typically, the urge to keep them from triumphing over centuries of painfully developed courtesy with their lowest common denominator mentality is irresistible. The need to reject our mother’s argument against descending to their level, and do so, for just long enough to, as they would most likely say, kick @$$ is undeniable. And frankly, the rewards of making all of the logical points which this essay merely paraphrases on behalf of the outraged emotions of everyone who has ever experienced some form of this (usually in the most obscenity-laden words possible) can be paralleled only by long-term satisfaction of thwarting the image of femininity which they are renewing - that of women as purely passive through ill-applied attempts at passive aggression . Has anyone ever walked away from an encounter like this feeling empowered? Superior? Not if things end at this point. Luckily, the instigators of these sessions rarely allow them to.
"Whassamatta, ya think you’re too good for me or sumpin?"
This is the point at which most such victims of harassment - you, me, and in the unlikely scenario of this ever happening to the friendly crew taking up precious space in front of the OTB, even them - finally snap. This is where the arguments start, and where victory is most often won. And, due to the surpassing obviousness of any answer that could be given to that hypothetical question , this is where my argument ends. Just ... keep the argument going. The specific insults and imprecations (so many comebacks; so little time) are irrelevant, tailored to suit the specific individual and occasion and thus immaterial for this particular discussion. It is the initiation of the dialogue itself which is important, because that is the only way to effectively and accurately convey our displeasure, and the reasons for it, which are not based not in a disdain for the men behind the machismo - who are, admittedly short, fat, tacky, and frequently smelly. However, there are plenty of vertically challenged, obese, receding, odoriferous gentlemen who are kind, generous, and sweet-tempered, who are in happy and well-deserved relationships. The issues which infuriate us lie in the sheer offensiveness of their blunt, abrasive, and abusive techniques. Using passive aggression with guys like these is kinda like yelling at someone who speaks a different language - Yo no compredo? - because while the emotions might get across, the reasons behind them will not. Instead, use the international language of actualized anger, and make your feelings known.