According to the previous generation's definition of what constitutes a real man, I am a failure in every direction at once. I know nothing about cars, sport, politics and apart from a cursory understanding of which end of the hammer you hit a nail with, DIY either. But the world is a different place now; the human race has made remarkable strides in all fields, and a different world demands a different breed of gentleman. So here are the commandments which all men should live by in this age of drinkable yoghurt and fuckable dolls.
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I. Thou Shalt Read
Don't listen to your parents - literacy rates are higher than ever before. Cynical bastards have made the logical fallacy that as material media continues to die, reading is sure to follow.
While it's certainly true that books, newspapers, magazines - the written word in all its forms is on the decline, the ease of access to the internet means your average Joe, no matter how inbred, is constantly bombarded by literature.
What you're doing right now is a fine example. If the floating shapes on the screen in front of you are forming coherent sentences with a deliciously sardonic slant, then congratulations, you're absolutely in the majority. And that is exactly where a real man wants to be. Besides, when evolution takes its course and we're all non-ambulatory, amorphous people-sacs connected by the hivemind network that finally rendered all human contact obsolete, you're going to want to understand exactly what that Nigerian Prince's lawyer means by 'collateral'.
II. Thou Shalt Know Things
By things, I mean things that interest you. Knowing the bullshit that enables you to be a better accountant or whatever you do for a living only enables you to be a better accountant, not a better person. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a job that’s interesting to themselves, let alone anyone in earshot of you drunkenly pontificating. It's almost tragic that the people who are the easiest to despise are those with the least interesting things to say. Don't be this person. It doesn't matter what interests you -- pursue it.
IV. Thou Shalt Not Experiment In The Bedroom
You are genetically programmed to find sex fun without a Carrot Top-size trunk full of props. Don't listen to Cosmo. I'm sure I once empirically proved that they don't have a bloody clue about anything and if their latest biannual article for men told you to mix something stupid like food with sex, don't listen. That's exactly how inconvenient fetishes crop up and eventually, you won't be able to even get an erection without having three fingers in a Viennese Swirl while Mr Kipling watches.
V. Thou Shalt Sleep Around
It is now absolutely normal to get married, have kids, grow old, hate, get plastic surgery, relove, rehate and then die with number n in your black book. I can't personally speak to having a magic number that looks like something Paul Erdős would masturbate to but this is what I hear. Get out there, don't spread your seed but find out what you like and what women, on the whole as far your experience extends, like. Think of it as sex research. Knowledge can't harm. Right? Right?
VI. Thou Shalt Choose Your Chaps With Caution
Not everyone's interests will appeal to you and vice versa. I've always found it confusing that people like Meatloaf for example. Not ironically. Just like him. Even though he sings like he's got a mouthful of dong and false sense of entitlement. Or Phil Collins. Who never hasn't got his mouth around one or more dongs.
All men, at some point in their lives, have been victim to this (on the face of it) seditious feeling that 'just because I'm a man and you're a woman, I should have to front the entirety of this dick-withering restaurant cheque?' And responded (often internally): 'FUCK. THIS. NOISE.'
It's natural. A product of the fifties and not much else. This: 'Here's lookin' at you kid!' kind of 'gentleman' knocks back their twelfth scotch, lights up a Lucky Strike and casually tosses a conveniently unlimited American Express card onto the waitress's frothing crotch and, would you look at that? The entire fucking universe suddenly decided that this is the only kind of man that existence is going to feel the need for for the next sixty years.
To hell with that. Men, if your woman is making you feel bad for suggesting something as chronically unmanly as splitting the cheque, then you have officially shacked up with something that has the common sense of a Flying Destructive Dragon Punch.
What you're doing right now is a fine example. If the floating shapes on the screen in front of you are forming coherent sentences with a deliciously sardonic slant, then congratulations, you're absolutely in the majority. And that is exactly where a real man wants to be. Besides, when evolution takes its course and we're all non-ambulatory, amorphous people-sacs connected by the hivemind network that finally rendered all human contact obsolete, you're going to want to understand exactly what that Nigerian Prince's lawyer means by 'collateral'.
II. Thou Shalt Know Things
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| COMMENCING RAPE IN: 3...2... |
By things, I mean things that interest you. Knowing the bullshit that enables you to be a better accountant or whatever you do for a living only enables you to be a better accountant, not a better person. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a job that’s interesting to themselves, let alone anyone in earshot of you drunkenly pontificating. It's almost tragic that the people who are the easiest to despise are those with the least interesting things to say. Don't be this person. It doesn't matter what interests you -- pursue it.
The search for knowledge doesn't have to be academic, a gentleman should learn about shit that he enjoys. If all you like to do in your spare time is wear a gigantic red squirrel costume and masturbate into a grey gym sock in convention centres, there are more forums for that than you could ever send blurry photos of your tiny dick to.
III. Thou Shalt Know Thyself
III. Thou Shalt Know Thyself
Commandment number II is clearly facilitated by this one – to pursue what interests you you need to know what interests you. This one sounds easy but actually isn't. Basically, as a young gentleman growing up in a confusing world that contains things like this and an internet to make it all way too easy to find, you're bound to come under some pressure to display interest in things you couldn't give two flying ape carcasses about.
But stay strong, young gentleman. Sure, all your peers couldn't be more excited about that cool new blog about a cat with no face but you just want to settle in every night to watch endless playlists of tortoises fucking inanimate objects. Don't worry. Thanks to the internet, you'll always be able to find people who share your sick, sick hobbies in future so there is no need to fear social ostracism now. You might have to wait until university, but trust me, those kindred souls are out there.
Nosce te ipsum, my son.
Nosce te ipsum, my son.
[You better have been checking up on all the links I assiduously put in this entry. God help you if not.]
IV. Thou Shalt Not Experiment In The BedroomYou are genetically programmed to find sex fun without a Carrot Top-size trunk full of props. Don't listen to Cosmo. I'm sure I once empirically proved that they don't have a bloody clue about anything and if their latest biannual article for men told you to mix something stupid like food with sex, don't listen. That's exactly how inconvenient fetishes crop up and eventually, you won't be able to even get an erection without having three fingers in a Viennese Swirl while Mr Kipling watches.
V. Thou Shalt Sleep Around
It is now absolutely normal to get married, have kids, grow old, hate, get plastic surgery, relove, rehate and then die with number n in your black book. I can't personally speak to having a magic number that looks like something Paul Erdős would masturbate to but this is what I hear. Get out there, don't spread your seed but find out what you like and what women, on the whole as far your experience extends, like. Think of it as sex research. Knowledge can't harm. Right? Right?
VI. Thou Shalt Choose Your Chaps With Caution
Not everyone's interests will appeal to you and vice versa. I've always found it confusing that people like Meatloaf for example. Not ironically. Just like him. Even though he sings like he's got a mouthful of dong and false sense of entitlement. Or Phil Collins. Who never hasn't got his mouth around one or more dongs.
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| 'I hereby solemnly swear not to screw you over eight ways from Sunday.' |
But the people you spend your early years with (and in this case, early can mean anything from age 15 to 21 depending on your talent for networking) will have a profound effect on how you turn out as a gentleman. In this case, I was lucky. And you, as an aspiring man will need to take great care in choosing the kind of people you associate with. Not because you're planning a career in politics (although if you are, try to downplay your relationship with your wonderfully enterprising drug dealer) but because of the effect they will have on the development of your own identity. [See all the above commandments].
Also, I truly hate to mention this, but everything you heard about 'life' being about 'who you know and not what you know' is basically true. There is no fucking substitute for nepotism in careerism but as I thought I pointed out in Commandment II, knowing interesting things as well will hopefully result in everyone who isn't busy employing the shit out of you, not hating you.
VII. Thou Shalt Try Not To Die
OK, that is perhaps a marginally excessive way of saying ‘just take care of yourself’. Wash occasionally, wear deodorant and aftershave – hell, throw some moisturiser on there too. No woman will ever be grossed out to such an extent that she swears she’ll never self-lubricate again because you have soft, smooth skin.
This commandment also includes slightly more peremptory self-maintenance than personal hygiene. Nobody wants to hear this, but men tend to die younger than women because when something like a brown mole appears on their thigh their first thought isn't: ‘Should probably get this checked out. Maybe by a medical professional.'
No, it’s: ‘Hmm. Probably a smudge of gravy’. Sixth months later when it’s the size of a fist, your average man is seeking medical advice by showing it to their mates and measuring their reactions for sarcasm.
Get yourself a spine and drop your pants in front of your GP now and again.
VIII. Thou Shalt Not Aspire To Tolerance, But To Not Giving Much Of A Damn
Tolerance is great. The whole 'equal opportunities' thing is great. But I would hazard that what people who consider themselves part of a minority group want, is for everyone else to not care. If you find yourself working in HR, the Raiden of careers, every single person who applies to you is (provided they aren't a raving narcissist) praying that you don't give a diggety hot damn that they are white, black, Asian, Mesopotamian, Presbyterian, or whatever. The art of tolerance isn't having to make a concerted effort to not hate someone on the basis that they are, say, ginger, but not caring that they are anything at all and just judging them on their merits or lack thereof.
Tolerance isn't something you should have to work at, at all.
VII. Thou Shalt Try Not To Die
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| Yep. Don't feel self-conscious about this in the slightest. |
OK, that is perhaps a marginally excessive way of saying ‘just take care of yourself’. Wash occasionally, wear deodorant and aftershave – hell, throw some moisturiser on there too. No woman will ever be grossed out to such an extent that she swears she’ll never self-lubricate again because you have soft, smooth skin.
This commandment also includes slightly more peremptory self-maintenance than personal hygiene. Nobody wants to hear this, but men tend to die younger than women because when something like a brown mole appears on their thigh their first thought isn't: ‘Should probably get this checked out. Maybe by a medical professional.'
No, it’s: ‘Hmm. Probably a smudge of gravy’. Sixth months later when it’s the size of a fist, your average man is seeking medical advice by showing it to their mates and measuring their reactions for sarcasm.
Get yourself a spine and drop your pants in front of your GP now and again.
VIII. Thou Shalt Not Aspire To Tolerance, But To Not Giving Much Of A Damn
Tolerance is great. The whole 'equal opportunities' thing is great. But I would hazard that what people who consider themselves part of a minority group want, is for everyone else to not care. If you find yourself working in HR, the Raiden of careers, every single person who applies to you is (provided they aren't a raving narcissist) praying that you don't give a diggety hot damn that they are white, black, Asian, Mesopotamian, Presbyterian, or whatever. The art of tolerance isn't having to make a concerted effort to not hate someone on the basis that they are, say, ginger, but not caring that they are anything at all and just judging them on their merits or lack thereof.
Tolerance isn't something you should have to work at, at all.
IX. Thou Shalt Not Concern Thyself With Pointless Gender Stereotypes
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| Aha! It's only romantic 'cause I can afford all these martinis. |
All men, at some point in their lives, have been victim to this (on the face of it) seditious feeling that 'just because I'm a man and you're a woman, I should have to front the entirety of this dick-withering restaurant cheque?' And responded (often internally): 'FUCK. THIS. NOISE.'
It's natural. A product of the fifties and not much else. This: 'Here's lookin' at you kid!' kind of 'gentleman' knocks back their twelfth scotch, lights up a Lucky Strike and casually tosses a conveniently unlimited American Express card onto the waitress's frothing crotch and, would you look at that? The entire fucking universe suddenly decided that this is the only kind of man that existence is going to feel the need for for the next sixty years.
To hell with that. Men, if your woman is making you feel bad for suggesting something as chronically unmanly as splitting the cheque, then you have officially shacked up with something that has the common sense of a Flying Destructive Dragon Punch.
X. Thou Shalt Make At Least A Token Effort To Not Be A Total Dickhead
If I really have to explain this one to you, then you are truly beyond saving. I would say: 'Enjoy your decades of sexual, cultural and emotional fucking desert you vile, caustic stain on our gender', but I know that kind of person didn't pass the first challenge of making sense of all the floating shapes on their screen.
As I began by saying, I am about as entitled to preach about the tenets of manhood as Jeremy Kyle and he appeals to women in the same way as yeast infection. And yes. I definitely do not adhere to many of these commandments consistently. But as De Botton once said: 'Yeah but Proust was all self-righteous about how we should act around bitches and he got, like, no pussy at all.' Or something like that.
If I really have to explain this one to you, then you are truly beyond saving. I would say: 'Enjoy your decades of sexual, cultural and emotional fucking desert you vile, caustic stain on our gender', but I know that kind of person didn't pass the first challenge of making sense of all the floating shapes on their screen.
As I began by saying, I am about as entitled to preach about the tenets of manhood as Jeremy Kyle and he appeals to women in the same way as yeast infection. And yes. I definitely do not adhere to many of these commandments consistently. But as De Botton once said: 'Yeah but Proust was all self-righteous about how we should act around bitches and he got, like, no pussy at all.' Or something like that.
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