QUICK THOUGHTS: Mimosas and violence

QUICK THOUGHTS: Mimosas and violence

I am struck by the dissertations around women made by men. Women are, women should, women think, women do. A bizarre exercise also because, in my memory, there aren't that many writings by women who deal with explaining to men what they are like. Often from a very young age my friends said "my man", indicating a boyfriend, (L'omo mio, said the Romans). It's a substantial misunderstanding, it doesn't make much sense to think you own a person, you don't even own a cat let alone a "biped" with a brain, even if you often forget you have it. Maybe we can own, say, a pair of shoes, a handkerchief or a hat. It should be possible to say “the man of me” technically incorrect, but correct in meaning, that is, not the man I possess, but the man who concerns me, who is with me. In any case, when my peers talked about men as a gender, we spoke without saying anything, except hackneyed concepts: they are all the same, they only want one thing (never understood what was wrong with it), they are profiteers, unreliable and traitors. But the masculine gender in its complexity did not fall within the interests of these women, it was never on the agenda of any discussion that might appear to be such. I don't know if some eminent philosopher has written treatises on males, but it matters little since it is everyone's belief that, apart from some differences of a biological nature, each of us, endowed with a female or male organ, has the same dignity and such a quantity of peculiar characteristics that an analysis that starts from the "binary" gender identity (male-female that excludes the others for immutable logics of power), can only be superficial and useless. Another thing is the analysis of how a man or a woman is placed in the social assembly. This is an important reasoning, but not only to say that never before must women play roles of power, which many are able to do even in this world in which machismo is the material of which the fibers of the fabric are made social, but to say that the gregarious role that women often find themselves having, even by choice, is the precious system of ideas and behaviors that creates what is defined as a team, and it is all that allows a pyramid structure to to exist. So the leader, whether male or female, does not exist without a team. It exists when with the same value as its surrounding male or female followers who have the ability to advance even without a leader. The charismatic leader, the "ducetto", (humble servant of himself), prevaricator and indispensable, is better left to the forcaioli of the local right, who would die without a leader. From work we go into the bedroom (or even into the living room or kitchen, if you like) and close the door. Let's leave "construction management" in the hands of the male who knows how to do it and manage its limits, and let women enjoy the subordinate role, if they like. You are the dominant and I am your dominated, "but also not" the Venetians would say. Viva also the opposite. The actors of this game have a natural predisposition, it will be in culture, in education, in inheritance. The important fact is that the behaviors are real, it is not possible to pretend or be what one is not. Those who learn from pornography learn a sexuality that has the sole purpose of making men only good customers, loyal, and addicted. There are few males who are able to handle this very delicate matter, a small number are protective and very few have a clear sense of responsibility. There are many women who know how to trust and rely on the male, and a small number who prefer the reversal of roles. Everything is disguised in the competition between narcissism and masochism in an immeasurable and devouring Ego, which loves, whispers, wants to possess, demands, and shouts. But what makes a male useless? It becomes useless when, attached to the enjoyment of age-old privileges, it basks in this presumed hoard of boring privileges without ever looking for an improvement, it neglects the charm linked to unpredictability, to waiting, to overcoming the "already lived", and to that elusiveness which would make him irresistible. The woman, on the other hand, who has always undergone and carried the burden, wants to improve herself, wants to be surprised, wants to continually surpass herself, because, when she falls in love, she enters a state of boundless creativity, where beauty emanates and everything seems possible. The invested male, overwhelmed by this power of the woman, enjoys every benefit by remaining motionless, he doesn't feel the need to progress, he already has everything and is on his way to boredom and the castration of the senses. Unfortunately, everything rests on the woman's shoulders, but she uses too much energy. She loves powerfully, raises children, works at home, works outside, often has parents on her shoulders , and is forced to limit herself. When the forces are scarce the woman calms down, she shuts down while the male, is still "won" by so much receiving, she wakes up, moves away, begins to see a useless male, and he doesn't understand. The more the woman's creativity has been elevated, the more the male is stunned by the privileges he has received and is unable to return to a state of lucidity. Precisely in this phase, when the woman refuses, the male does not understand, he does not get there with his brain. His brain doesn't have the right time to understand the change, and violence is triggered. It is not enough to give mimosas, it is necessary to know how to renew oneself, it is necessary to surpass oneself in order to bridge the exaggerated gap that in the last 60 years has seen the female world make almost revolutionary leaps forward, to the detriment of the male world still stuck in an inherited patriarchy laden with privileges, which have made males homologated and in fact inadequate for today's women.