"I need you to elevate me here
At the corner of your lips
As the orbit of your hips
Eclipse, you elevate my soul
I've got no self-control"
U2 - Elevation
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"I am not thinking of the abolition of woman. But I do want to abolish—the heroine, the sexual heroine. I want to abolish the woman whose support is jealousy and whose gift possession. I want to abolish the woman who can be won as a prize or locked up as a delicious treasure. And away down there the heroine flares like a divinity.’
‘In America,’ said Edwards, ‘men are fighting duels over the praises of women and holding tournaments before Queens of Beauty.’
‘I saw a beautiful girl in Lahore,’ said Kahn, ‘she sat under a golden canopy like a goddess, and three fine men, armed and dressed like the ancient paintings, sat on steps below her to show their devotion. And they wanted only her permission to fight for her.’
‘That is the men’s doing,’ said Edith Haydon.
‘I SAID,’ cried Edwards, ‘that man’s imagination was more specialised for sex than the whole being of woman. What woman would do a thing like that? Women do but submit to it or take advantage of it.’
‘There is no evil between men and women that is not a common evil,’ said Karenin. ‘It is you poets, Kahn, with your love songs which turn the sweet fellowship of comrades into this woman-centred excitement. But there is something in women, in many women, which responds to these provocations; they succumb to a peculiarly self-cultivating egotism. They become the subjects of their own artistry. They develop and elaborate themselves as scarcely any man would ever do. They LOOK for golden canopies. And even when they seem to react against that, they may do it still."
‘In America,’ said Edwards, ‘men are fighting duels over the praises of women and holding tournaments before Queens of Beauty.’
‘I saw a beautiful girl in Lahore,’ said Kahn, ‘she sat under a golden canopy like a goddess, and three fine men, armed and dressed like the ancient paintings, sat on steps below her to show their devotion. And they wanted only her permission to fight for her.’
‘That is the men’s doing,’ said Edith Haydon.
‘I SAID,’ cried Edwards, ‘that man’s imagination was more specialised for sex than the whole being of woman. What woman would do a thing like that? Women do but submit to it or take advantage of it.’
‘There is no evil between men and women that is not a common evil,’ said Karenin. ‘It is you poets, Kahn, with your love songs which turn the sweet fellowship of comrades into this woman-centred excitement. But there is something in women, in many women, which responds to these provocations; they succumb to a peculiarly self-cultivating egotism. They become the subjects of their own artistry. They develop and elaborate themselves as scarcely any man would ever do. They LOOK for golden canopies. And even when they seem to react against that, they may do it still."
H.G. Wells - The World Set Free
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"Just say the word,—teetotal, vegetarian, aeronaut,
theosophist, superman. I'll have a try at it, Gladys, if you will only
give me an idea what would please you."
Arthur Conan Doyle - The Lost World
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A journal article back in 2007 made a bit of splash finding that strippers taking birth control pills received mostly steady tips during the month, while women with normal menstrual cycles were not just out-earning them but varying far more in nightly monetary gains, getting twice as much in tips when ovulating as opposed to menstruating. I can't speak to its discussion in scientific circles at the time. The paper itself reads sane and professional enough, albeit awkwardly tiptoeing around descriptions of strip clubs; and no, messieurs Geoff, Josh and Brent did not spend their grant money on lap dances - the gals just filled out forwarded questionnaires. But by the time it hit our mass-media sensationalism factory, flaring up briefly in the talk radio and afternoon gossip show circuit, I remember it repeatedly presented not in terms of estrus but as evidence of pheromonal communication in humans. We're just bucks sniffing out does in heat.
A tidy little notion from the female viewpoint, neh? All she has to do is show up. She need not demean herself by responding to the call of the wild. Her body merely radiates 1D6 attraction like some holy aura. Therefore only lowly males alter their behavior to sate their primitive lusts. Our misandrist media culture ignored the more down-to-earth explanations in the study itself and immediately latched on to an explanation better fitting the feminist party line that men are descended from apes but women are descended from heaven.
Slight problem though: you're currently reading this instead of sniffing it in scent-code. Not only is sight our primary sense as a species, but our entire evolutionary history going back tens of millions of years through the primates confirms that, including for sexual cues. So talk show hosts focused on a bizarre leap that hormonal changes within the body of an ovulating woman were producing scent-signals to customers who drove to a strip club in the first place to watch her dance on stage. Pornstars do occasionally sell their panties, but that's an infinitesimal blip compared to the market for videos or live shows, further confounded by the "feelies" tactile element. Before assuming hormones are teleoperating the brain of a man across the room, is there not a brain far closer for those chemical signals to manipulate? Within the same body, even? The woman's own? After all, women's ability to control and enslave men in no way implies they have control of themselves.
Succinctly: you're acting like a bitch in heat. You gyrate more pointedly, strut more bouncily, pout more wetly, you smile more sweetly when your body's priorities over-ride your conceit to despise men for desiring you because only a fairy-tale Prince Charming could ever be worthy of you, when you just want your egg fertilized before it drops, carpe that estrous diem and worry about nailing down a provider later. Conversely, PMS-ing harpies act less personable.
Oh, what's that? Are you less flattered by that interpretation? Does your own body insult you by controlling you thus, forcing you to appeal to those you consider less evolved than yourself? Do you resent being puppeted by your instincts? Well, madam, suck it up, pun intended.
The presumption that sexual hormones change interpersonal behavior, unblinkingly accepted for one half of the species, is taboo when discussing the other half. Odd considering the synchronization of menstrual cycles (provable or not) among women in the same social group is openly discussed... but that doesn't involve men, so doesn't set off the same level of feminist hysteria. Even allowing for the unlikely pheromonal explanation, it's interesting, thinking back, I can't remember the reverse proposition ever being put forth in any media outlet or classroom discussion: that horny men innocently radiate attraction and women might unthinkingly act on that masculine scent like sheep trailing the muskiest ram.
Does the thought of her own body chemistry pushing a woman into a supplicant position offend thee? Must it be plucked out of any gender narrative? Why? Again, when discussing men, uncontrollable hormonal impulses are not only not avoided but openly mocked in romcoms and sitcoms as desperation to court a mate, despite the fact that men incur far greater detriment, being always in heat, always eager to curry favor, always open to exploitation - and oh, if only it were as simple for us as gyrating and getting paid for it! But the very concept that women's purity may be marred, even in the slightest, by a small chip off the same millstone men carry every day of their lives, makes us reach for any other explanation, no matter how far-fetched. Can you even fathom how deeply that pro-woman bias cripples everything which should otherwise be an honest analysis of the world around us?
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