Saturday, December 31, 2005

On Procreation and Darwinism

Darwinian natural selection throughout history has favored those males who are more interested in chasing women, in hunting after them, going out of their way to entice them, seduce them, persuade them to join the male in having progeny.

Those males who contained these genes were more successful in procreating and had more children than those men who were happy by themselves, those who had less desire and drive to go after women. The men who were happier sitting at home, maybe even with one woman, had fewer children than the go-getter, the pro-active one, the one who used every method available to fulfill the divine internal command to further the human race in accordance with the first commandment, the most rational and logical of them all.

This resulted in more humans with the chasing gene, the one willing to do everything in its power to promote the worthy goal of Peru Urevu, of ensuring the continued survival of humans and we should embrace the role that gene has performed in our continued existence and expansion, Kein Yirbu.


Saturday, December 24, 2005

On women, a clarification

I get the impression that my previous post was misunderstood by my female readership. Like all the great philosphers, thinkers and poets throughout history, my words are being debated in bars and batey midrash up and down the country. Or maybe not.

What I do mean is that most people of the female persuasion (I love persuading people they are female!) want a man with some courage, cahunas, bravado, spiwit. Stwike him thentuwian, stwike him wufly and fwow him to the floow.

They like a guy who will go up to them and talk to them, ask them for their number, take an interest in them. They are far more likely to want that guy rather than the shy retiring one who sits in the corner all night saying nothing. Be the big bear with the claws.

Too many guys waste too many opportunities to meet good girls because they sit around on their safe, cowardly ass. That's my point. That's the way they are programmed. And once you've got their number and asked them out - compliment them. They deserve it. Be interested in what they have to say. That's what they are looking for.

Thanks for listening


Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Guys, have no fear, use your claws


I don't want to give too much of the game away and then have to compete with you in the big jungle of life, but I thought I'd pass on a few words of wisdom from some of the Gedolim of the last generation (censored for publication) and leave you to draw your own conclusions. They pass on the message far better than I ever could (or would wish to).

"You know what you are? You're like a big bear with claws and with fangs... And she's just like this little bunny, who's just kinda cowering in the corner ... you know, you got these claws and you're staring at these claws and your thinking to yourself, and with these claws you're thinking, "How am I supposed to kill this bunny, how am I supposed to kill this bunny?" You're just kinda gently batting the bunny around, you know what I mean? And the bunny's scared Mike, the bunny's scared of you, shivering. And you got these claws and these fangs, man! And you're looking at your claws and you're looking at your fangs. And you're thinking to yourself, you don't know what to do, man. "I don't know how to kill the bunny." With *this* you don't know how to kill the bunny, do you know what I mean?

You're so money and you don't even know it!

I don't want you to be the guy in the PG-13 movie everyone's *really* hoping makes it happen. I want you to be like the guy in the rated R movie, you know, the guy you're not sure whether or not you like yet. You're not sure where he's coming from. Okay? You're a bad man. You're a bad man, Mikey. You're a bad man, bad man.

You take yourself out of the game, you start talking about puppy dogs and ice cream and of course it's going to end up on the friendship tip.

Oh Mikey do you think I even know what the hell they are talking about half the time? I don't know whether they are talking about how hard it is to be adopted or how their father never shows them love. All I do man, is I wrinkle my eyebrows, stare at their lips and somehow I turn out to be some big sweetie.

Oh, Mike, respect my ass. What they respect is honesty. Look you see how they dress when they go out. Right? They want you to notice 'em. Now all your doing is letting them know it's working. You got to get off of this respect thing. There's nothing wrong with letting the girls know that your money and that you want to party."

Trust me, these giants knew what they were saying, it is up to us to listen and learn from their ways.


Friday, December 16, 2005

The sound of music

Continuing with my theme of powerful forces, music is another unappreciated one. We are often unaware as to how powerful and influential music can be. Allow me to illustrate.

We consciously or unconsciously associate music with aspects of our lives, with a particular boyfriend, a sporting event, a tragedy. Sometimes you can hear a song and remember exactly where you were and what you were doing the first time you heard it.

Many couples have "their song", which is a powerful effect and can carry over for many years after they split up. One guy I know chose this as his song for his girlfriend (warning: explicit lyrics and not very nice ones either. Needless to say they are no longer together!).

If we take a minute to stop and examine the words of most contemporary songs, we'd agree that they aren't necessarily the most instructive or appropriate things to have running through your head (running through your head). Do the girls really want to visit Fitty's candyshop? Or Avril going down is perfect to be humming during chazaras hashatz. I'm not advocating Jewish music per se, nor a reductionist isolationist view of the world, rather an awareness of the powers that surround us.

Let's open our eyes and see what influences us, what insiduously works its devilish way into our brain and hearts, affecting our feelings and thoughts. Let's understand the power of the niggun in chassidut, Rebbe Nachman's thought, telling us how music touches our soul and connects us with the upper worlds.


Wednesday, December 14, 2005

The power of manipulation

Like a drug, once tasted you find it harder to go without your fix. Knowing you can control someone, have power over them, influence their lives to such a degree. Better than sex (apparently).

I've seen men manipulate women into doing the stupidest most pathetic things, they just play on their insecurities, feed them the right lines, even tell them the dreaded ILY phrase just to have their way with them.

I've seen women turn intelligent, normally controlled men into gibbering wrecks, tongues lolling at the sight of a bit of leg or a revealing top, persaude men to hand over large wads of cash for all sorts of ridiculous pleasures.

I've seen impressionable students fall under the allure of a charismatic, dynamic teacher, following him into the unknown and beyond. Imagine being in the shoes of that leader having such control over your followers and you'll understand how easy it is to abuse that, how addictive and dangerous it can be.

I've seen politicians lie so often that if they tell you it is raining you have to go outside to check. They will hold on to their privileged position, beyond their time, just for another hit of this drug.

I've seen the dangers of this drug, can anyone point me to rehab?


Tuesday, December 13, 2005

The Tzitzit Conundrum

You guys will know what I'm talking about. You are getting pimped up, ready for a night out. You find your one good shirt that doesn't need ironing, slip on your bestest pants and slide into your finest shoes. Ready to shine, dressed to kill. Now do you or don't you leave on the Arba Kanfos?

Let's take it as granted that you don't have the stinky brown smelly things that are enamoured by Yeshiva Bochurim worldwide. The ones that poke out of their neck accusingly at you - look at me, they say, I'm being worn every day for years on end without any time to take me off and wash me (like the Rogachover legend about not getting his hair cut). Not those. If you have them - wash them please. Right now. On behalf of all mankind, thank you.

I'm also not talking about those of you for whom a night out entails you not being able to say Hamapil because you are Bemakom Ervah, vehamevin yavin. For you people I'm not sure whether to tell you davka to wear them (the mussary side of me) and it might prevent you, or to tell you to keep up the good work (the jealous side). Oh the joys of being conflicted.

I'm also not getting involved in the machlokes whether or not to wear them at night. Way too convoluted for this forum.

My question is, when we are getting ready to go out, do we leave them on? My personal minhag is when I'm feeling all frum and fuzzy then I will, if I am getting dressed to impress, then I won't. What's yours?


Sunday, December 11, 2005

Books Books Books, I'm looking for the good times

I love Books. I love reading them, browsing them, flicking through them, nodding sagely at books that I've already read, gasping excitedly at discovering a book I've been meaning to read, pulling it off the shelf and immersing myself in it even for a few brief moments.

The first place I home in on when I walk into someone's house is their bookshelf. I barely say hello, often forget to scrape off the doggy-do from my tainted shoes, such is my haste. Any girl who can't share that desire, that unquenchable thirst for knowledge and childish yearning to discover more is not for me. Sorry Pamela, you got the wrong Kid, though this one does also Rock!

I'll read history, philosophy, faction, fiction, really really bad trashy fiction that you are too embarassed to tell anyone but you secretly love. Biographies, classics, not-yet-classics, harry potters, science, Torah related books on a variety of subjects. An eclectic mix that broadens my horizons, tantalizes me, expands my experience and enriches my world.

I can't imagine a world without books, a wintery friday night without something to curl up to and escape the pounding rain, a long summer Shabbat afternoon in the garden with a cold coke and a good book. Long live google, bring on the World Electronic Library but don't take away my books.

Some of you will be nodding right now. WAKE UP! But seriously, not everyone is as lucky as me. There are those who did not really grow up with reading books as a part of their life. Nowadays many spend their time boggle-eyed on IM and reading every sports page available just in case someone else thinks the Colts won't make 16-0.

Others have been very restricted in what they can read. I've been into these people's houses. A fair number of them grew up in open homes, with a liberal tolerant philosphy as to what they could read, but due to various pressures, more social than religious, they no longer keep anything unkosher on their shelves. I understand the attitude, I just can't agree with it. It is G-d's world we are reading about here. I might post another time about how important questioning and discovering outside inspiration is to improving Emunah, but Ein Kan Makom Lehaarich.

I recently heard about the Book Thing. What an incredible idea. I think we should spread this idea across the world. Especially in Jerusalem, I remember not finding a library in Jerusalem, and I think the idea of an open book place for people to donate or take books as they please would be fantastic. Any volunteers?

Thank you L-rd for providing us with this wonderful vehicle for transmitting knowledge and for granting us Johannes Gutenberg without whom our lives would be much poorer.

p.s. anyone know the song reference in the title?

a rejewvenated TRK

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Marvellous moshol

"Once upon a time, there was a bird. He was adorned with two perfect wings and with glossy, colourful, marvellous feathers. In short, he was a creature made to fly about freely in the sky, bringing joy to everyone who saw him.
One day, a woman saw this bird and fell in love with him. She watched his flight, her mouth wide in amazement, her heart pounding, her eyes shining with excitement. She invited the bird to fly with her, and the two travelled across the sky in perfect harmony. She admired and venerated and celebrated that bird.
But then she thought: He might want to visit far-off mountains! And she was afraid, afraid that she would never feel the same way about any other bird. And she felt envy, envy for the bird's ability to fly.
And she felt alone.
And she thought: "I'm going to set a trap. The next time the bird appears, he will never leave again."
The bird, who was also in love, returned the following day, fell into the trap and was put in a cage.
She looked at the bird every day. There he was, the object of her passion, and she showed him to her friends, who said: "Now you have everything you could possibly want." However, a strange transformation began to take place: now that she had the bird and no longer needed to woo him, she began to lose interest. The bird, unable to fly and express the true meaning of his life, began to waste away and his feathers to lose their gloss; he grew ugly; and the woman no longer paid him any attention, except by feeding him and cleaning out his cage.
One day, the bird died. The woman felt terribly sad and spent all her time thinking about him. But she did not remember the cage, she thought only of the day when she had seen him for the first time, flying contentedly amongst the clouds.
If she had looked more deeply into herself, she would have realised that what thrilled her about the bird was his freedom, the energy of his wings in motion, not his physical body.
Without the bird, her life too lost all meaning, and Death came knocking at her door. "Why have you come? she asked Death. "So that you can fly once more with him across the sky." Death replied. "If you had allowed him to come and go, you would have loved and admired him even more; alas, you now need me in order to find him again"."
(thanks to Paulo Coelho)