If you don't wink, I'll punch you but. . . . .

Some years back there was a woman who had been hooked up to a respirator for 25 years and there was talk "of pulling the plug", and they flashed her cute picture around and that got the public all weepy and "stirred-up" about "the sacredness of life". Why, if I'm not mistaken there was even a yahoo who bought a shotgun with the price-tag danglin' on the barrel, plannin' on liberatin' her comatose body from the hospital bed, before he was arrested "without a struggle" in the lobby with his own roll-eyed fear, droppin' to his knees before Jesus and sobbin' his open sincerity of character. However, if this had been a grody, gnarled old bastard hooked up to machines. . . . . no one would have "gave a shit"! Ain't "Christian Charity" wonderful? May a cat shit in righteous sanctimony's grave. . . . .

Penny Stocks. . . . . and bargain-basement derangement is a hall-mark of many an empire, dynasty, or Hollywood legend when adolescence can be thought of as a stock exchange and status among teenagers like listed values that run along as surely as the ticker-tape, or an electronic board of neon dots with smug expressions, gripped chair-backs, "and cash in hand". Many of us start out "respectable", but within a matter of minutes or days or weeks our value "drops" because the market either can't see undeveloped potentials, or it is lost under a snubbed tide of ratios, percentages, and cagey perceptions that "a buy" would be "a liability"-- thus causing a bent, cracked tree of support racing through the crowd like a sowing, evil wind. Now one is perceived as "a penny stock" and is bought and traded, though "hardly respected" until one takes their stand. . . . . and thinks to themselves, I can either act like a cheap, no-good piece of worthless paper, or I can "go for broke" and be "a real contender". Thus you make use of resources that before, the market thought "was worthless" because it did not know "what it had" and history unfolds before your very eyes. Invest in "Winona stock" by writing in your letter of support; not a penny-farthing, but. . . . . priceless.

      

  

   

"Blossom" Bloomed!
http://www.mayimbialik.net/

-- "Not in your Arabian Dreams-- zilch in a 1001 Nights and not even "ONE IN A MILLION". Why don't you go crusin' on the Las Vegas strip and pull on some "vice cop's thong" and see whutcha get? The night is young but I'm "outta 'ere".

 

   

        (-- "Cheer up, you. 2nd Quarter'll be better")

Dear Management--

Please make sure that Alexa has all the strong, bonded emotional support that she needs and keeps this a fun act. Having difficulty with depression or perhaps mood swings-- which oftentimes affect the creative, expressive, and sensitive-- can lead "to bad nights", which might throw the whole tour off-balance if folks go out of their way to turn "a slip" into "a trainwreck" with the unmerciful nature of a skeptical crowd and unkind, sensational media. Rotten, sugar-coated truths only become "that more repulsive" to someone in despair. So keep it "low-fi" and honest as "the strategy" is laid out for her tour. I don't know who you are exactly, but from what I've seen of other managers in the industry (i.e. Metallica, Mötley Crüe, ect.) I see lots of jury-rigged, enabling behavior that plays on bogus 1960's industry legends and shameless, self-reverential avoidance; if not oily smiles of pan-flute cosmopolitanism with servile obeisance to the money spigot, making up for the void at your flaky, hedonistic center that is currently rotting in hell as we speak. Kiss my Teutonic white ass, you sniveling Jewish motherfuckers. Pray at the temple of Wotan.

Pray for "Lefty o' Dunce"-- the fat, feisty liberal activist and radical defense lawyer found thrashing in the net of a government "anti-terror" sting and bagged "like a baited goose" for when she foolishly ventured out "into a strange, gray, buffer-zone" of legality in a charged political atmosphere "and was made a handy example of", especially when she "shot off her mouth" one too many times as the ignorant "howled for blood" and the prosecutors held up the law "to the letter" with a slight, sly hint of small satisfaction for the tightening noose of a "by-the-book" show trial. Perhaps she got carried away with "counterculture theatre", or self-dramatizing, or "the psychodrama of siding with the brown n' oppressed", AND RAZZED THE SYSTEM ONE TOO MANY TIMES. And you know what? "The Sherrif of Nottingham" turned around and clasped her in leg-irons & an orange jumpsuit. . . . . a two year sentence recently JACKED-UP TO 10 so everyone can show "how tough they are". Well, this idiot has suffered enough. May this become a subversive internet joke that eventually rattles the barred doors open. You're reading it here aren't you?

"Rolling Stone" is getting way more solid of late with its presentation and feels like a pithy, respectable, tabloid-sized paper that is delivering the essential hard-to-find news that you can't necessarily "locate" anywhere else, short "of little internet Merlins" of blogging "cheap shots" when authority is just about as open-sourced as Wikipedia "and just as easy to vandalize".

My advice to magazines and the record companies on this side of the media business is to find a way to engage your audience on the theoretical "street level"-- say, with contests or coupons or stickers or whacked-out "do-it-yourself" media projects that sows "good will", utilizing the internet and both local and national business with "tie-in's".

. . . . . . . . . .

"Rolling Whore" magazine has recently reneged on **our unspoken agreement** not to shoot for "the gutter" in a near-recent issue near YOU, available at newsstands for a cheap laugh. . . . .

Who are gonna care about those oily pelicans from their gratuitous, sniveling coverage of the B.P. oil spill in da' Gulf. . . . . maaaaan?

Liberal experts in the entertainment and "think tank" lobbying community are WORKING ON IT "around the clock"!!!

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A great story about why we should think about "The Prodigal Son" can be found here with a stunning article by my former rival, Matt Tabbai about financial wheelin'-dealin's and the servitude of bonded debt, mostly forgiven but for a bit "of hobbled hilarity" if you can learn how to put it all "into the proper perspective". Meanwhile. . . . .

Wake up & Smell the Coffee, America. Not all economic hope is lost so long as you're caffeinated & productive with a bit of motivation. I came up with this brief, casual little speech "to sum it up"-- "no big deal, but listen to it here.

      *** (Click & Save to Download) ***

Check this out: Tips for innovatively turning your personal hobby into a business. . . . . here

Though our current Chief of State makes about as much intuitive sense as a black-painted "Super Nintendo". . . . . America must be put back to work with blazing mission when the only thing we have to fear is gritty, low-down discouragement "and lack of will".

What is this. . . . . some kind of "Tea Party"? Well, the time is ripe not to complain and howl and dismantle through petty, ant-like revenge like marching columns of half-baked, sun-bleached cowardice toward black towers of American smoke n' apocalypse like a grinning possum's rictus of backwater hatred in brackish, slacks n' buttons thunder. Work toward postive self-empowerment of Ted Nugified grandeur, our headband and rhinestone hometown "sun"/Motorcity madman grinning through hairy teeth, bounding out there like Wango/Tango steak n' potatoes "Craveman"/stomp revival-tent salvation. He made a fortune, lost it-- but then came back AGAIN-- quite literaly ROSE FROM THE DEAD and produced music arguably better. It begins WITH YOU-- get out there in the garage and engineer your projects.

EDUCATION INITIATIVE

"12 Steps & 12 Traditions" by A.A. here

"Deep Inner Game" by David DeAngelo here

"Basic Physics; a Self-Teaching Guide" by Karl F. Kuhn here

"Might is Right" by Ragnar Redbeard (et al) here

"The 48 Laws of Power" (+) by Robert Greene here

"Secrets of Power Negotiating" (+) by Roger Dawson here

"The Young Eagle" by Tom Reilly here

   duh, duh, duh, duh, duh. . . . .

   Beware of. . . . .

    Captain Narcissistic!

     (Cap'n Stupid!!!) 

   Read article here & here

         -- "Have a problem? Stop it before it starts!!" Call 1-900-"Burton-Forever" where intervention counselors will be standing by. . . . . YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

These books were profoundly useful for my development of strong, personal character and what should be taught in the schools across the nation to address feminization's rot "of over-empathy" and perhaps "the lack of a compass".

Staffing your middle and elder grades. . . . . with a roster "of weather ladies" and multi-purpose cop/professional-wrestler/motivational speakers will do wonders for the core values of the nihilistic & teenaged. For there is no honor in bogus Charlie Brown/Mexican leftist mural artista apparatchik "turf-splorch" with the narrow ribbon of begrudging faith "yet betrayed" by leaked spoilers of destiny's "rotten maw".

"A Young man's nihilism of low status". . . . . many, many years ago I knew my old proud Grandpa as the towering patriarch of the Jewish side of my family over yonder in the New York suburbs. He was a furious, confident ranter who made a brilliant career in the chemical business and the majesty of philanthropy. What had served his cultural paradigm, natural ability, and bluster gave him "the credibility" to put on this show with titanic ego-- especially in sit-down restaurents before the scurrying help and bowing manager with a cloth in his hands. This, as I'd look down at my cheeseburger, fries, and a milkshake and be in awe of that creaky power he commanded.

At around that age, I wished that some sort of Hugh Hefner in a smoking jacket would lead my early young adolescent self through a James Bond-style cave and show me the mysteries and glamour and ease the doubts that bedeviled me. . . . . that shakiness. That lack of faith in a benovelent, guiding force, horrors unseen for the snagged, lost, and damned.

The fear of investment, caution of effort, large streaks of laziness, the sense that everything has already been "done". When the system was bogus, fixed, fraudlent-- change futile-- greatness requiring a solemntity to which no one like you could humanly rise. To even do "one's fair share" was a sinking proposition with the bothersome laws of friction and entropy with that lack of inspiration's momentum accelerating with purpose.

The heaviness of debt, the feeling that "it was too late"; pose, counterfeit-- knowing that one would get chased out of that restaurent if they dared treat the staff like ole' Hermann did.

Accusation, blatting advice, irrelevance. This is the looming sense of emptiness so many feel, and the sump of poorer days. Lies, psychic vampires, and rotten worms as we turn our heads and scowl at your advance. Leave us alone.

. . . . . when anger is like a black stone glowing redly inside, seething at the whiff of asphalt and hint of a bitter wind with the five-finger cheeze-puff grasp of life's essential small-time bankruptcy as maybe a "Cheetoes" bag flaps by to make a Satanic elpisis like plastic, tin-foil merriment as you scowl like a venereal-expressioned "Dirty Harry", ghost riders in the sky or at least the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders with pom-poms and canted "come get me" hick grins as you want to pick up a board with a scowling rictus and a yowl and go after the nattering and bureaucratic and petty and silly "and dickless" who ain't never gonna get "what's important".

--"Go fuck your mother in an outhouse"

Beware of "Doomsville". . . . . and any kind of miserable, gray, shrunken, semi-apocalyptic hole-in-the-wall thinking of "rat-cheese" sustenance full of vipers and weevils and gawd-knows-what-else. . . . . calling upon a heroism, greatness, and nobility that doesn't exist amongst your typical auto-body slouches and pickled bar-stool drunks full of howling n' fightin' and depression's blue, rueful shadows of unemployment and bad debts-- the legend of "The Fuller Brush man" and hot hussy housewives in Clairol aprons. Tell it to your local "Tea Party" branch office.

"The Quagmire". . . . . the worst kind of situation for an earnest, confused young man to be in is that state of indecisiveness when he is left up to the essential flurried, chaotic nature of a woman's "vague, dissatisfaction" which can only grow more "restless and violent", leading to his pathetic ouster so long as he is the one who does not establish whether through charm or grace, "that he is the one IN CONTROL"-- which is what she always REALLY WANTED the whole time, with the polarity of "the ying & the yang" and what the strong masculine force is supposed to represent in contrast to her flowing, water-like energies of "the night" and "the moon" and the boundless, eternal ocean. Countless tokens "of good faith" may find themselves sunk in the poison pool of this rotten, impossible swamp "of bad feeling"-- when attempts to stay "and fix it" will find themselves lost in a futile situation "when the only sensible thing to do" is to exercise one's free will "to walk away" and leave them to their squalling will "to resist you". Because you have become co-dependents of mutual antagonism, in which there's a certain addictive joy "in savagely undercutting the other" whenever they try "to rise above", pulling them down into your awfulness, under the guise "of apparent selflessness"-- when even "staying around" to prove them wrong is its own form "of egotistic revenge".

"All Girls Are Secretly Angels. . . . ." but sometimes they like to hide behind "some pretty ridiculous behavior" to try getting a gullible person "to believe otherwise". Most women are hopelessly restless, false "bad actresses" who do not have the weight or credibility to fool the seasoned observer who finds a way "to wink" at this nonsense and touch the soft, beautiful, joyous angel which always lived inside, and glows brighter once it has been discovered-- and in turn makes the whole world glow so; because as profoundly-subtle, wondrous spiritual beings, that's what they were put here to do, as bringers of light and wisdom "who only need to be unlocked" by a playful, slightly-mischievous character whose name, Michael-- means "he who is like God?" in Hebrew. Whatever the cosmology or "comedy routine" humor "of the waving snake in the garden", remember that "Michael" as the archangel eventually led the forces of good into battle, and was really "a swell guy after-all", if not a half-Jewish bullshit artist "with a flair of the dramatic".

"Pit Fighter"-- There is oftentimes this idea in this culture "that men are dumb"-- but it may be far more true to say that we guys are more attuned "to the reality of the pit" whose directness, heaviness, single-mindedness, and crudeness will oftentimes "make us extremely cagey"-- relative to what "the pit" requires. Necessity is "the crunch time" of invention and why a man, if properly motivated-- particularly if he has had his unconscious "unlocked" by the soaring, beautiful feminine energy and then must do his best "to go into the lungs of hell" in order to save a very special girl on a moral and spiritual quest-- will rise to the greatest heights, up from THAT PIT, which was his ultimate "original source" of scrappy, hard-fought intelligence "the mother's milk of liberalism" would only coddle and destroy with society's collective, self-medicating overdoses "like a destroying angel". If men are "dumb", they are only made "more so" by women who are "naive & silly" in a never-ending cycle of consumerism, waste, and fraud of magical, happy answers "where the social math doesn't add up" and as usual-- the debt is once more thrown down into "that unmentionable pit", a sump of pessimism that oftentimes even pulls down well-meaning women into its gaping hatred. . . . . a misogyny far more ugly than what "women's lib" originally set out to correct through enlightenment, "good intentions"-- and sometimes, through the grapevine of misheard "cultural telephone", an obnoxious militancy as immature as it is laughably self-defeating as howls rise from "the pit" as men hunker, hopping up & down on the hams of their legs and slowly, gruesomely picking apart "unlucky grasshoppers" in order to symbolically strike back, and signal "death to the liberal insect". . . . . addicted to porn "or snuff films" or worse.

It almost makes you want
to build a website

A lot of truly nice, interesting, creative females in rock & film and "indie culture" made the mistake of coming across as a bonkers, unchallenging "accessory" that plays into a young man's "low-down" post-adolescent fantasy as scuzzy as it is ultimately disrespectful and unredeeming to who she really is, or probably "secretly wants to be". When loud, crude "feminism" that mouths off with a combination of sex-kitten vulnerability "and something more suggestible still". . . . . is a tactic "that impresses" the meek around her, yet limits the gal to "the box of brash" which over time loses its punch "and grows soggy with tears".

Most characters don't have the backbone "to tell you the truth", perhaps hanging around and thinking that if they say nothing the zapping air of sexual electricity "will eventually volt them" with a reward, perhaps holding "the lottery ticket" of "free love" openness and thinking that their number will soon be drawn and they'll "score". But the more decent, elevated, and principled a gal acts, the more it will inspire matching behavior around her and true nobility from "the guys".

“Tough as mule-jerky, hell-bent for leather”. Happy 76^th, “She-Wolf of the SS” (S.ocial S.ecurity!!)

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(***): "I have vast & lengthy projects on the table that I need to sit down and work on". . . . . for the sake of reinvestment & practical enterprise to serve a certain adorable little "fire-fly" for whom I will not list-- but this website is named after her. Don't tread on inspiration, or else I'll bite you in the ass like a viper.

Another Great Site Here You Should Consider-- John Reilly is an intelligent, daring, (-- if slightly stodgy) free-thinking intellectual of the old school who has a lot of book reviews n' polemical writings that are sure to be of delight "to the thinking man". Think of him as being "about four cuts above Roger Ebert" with a massive pay-load of content that doesn't pretend-- but delivers. I'm always willing "to share the stage" with someone who delivers". . . . . and he does.

Some Tips for Power-Bulking your Speaking Ability-- A great trick I discovered is actually listening to others speak on a conversational basis-- like say, on a radio show or a speech. Then what you do, if possible, is get a recording of that host's words and then transcribe their sentences to page-- slowly, maybe by five uttered words at a time-- so you pick up on the cadence and rhythm of talking while developing the ability "to hold ideas" in the forefront of your mind and speak fluidly and spontaneously. It will discipline your mind and turn you into a more formidable verbal fighter. . . . . by using this exercise "as your sparring partner".

"On Lock-Picking" here. "Learning How to Learn" here.  "On The Subject of 'Selling Out'" which can be found here. This ain't no "Hari-Kari" but the code of Bashido, man!!!! The Fuckin' Samurai. . . . .

When folks throw out labels and generalizations about "black sheep" groups-- they oftentimes make statements that are wholly unfair, broad, or inaccurate-- and when society points a finger at "the monstrous other", remember that "three fingers are pointed back at you" and oftentimes this is just proves to be a projection of your own monstrous, inner turmoil and a desire to impose "order" and "emotional safety" upon the world, becoming "what they most despise" in order to fight and push away something they may secretly identify with-- which may not even be accurate, to the case at hand as you bully a poor misfit "minding their own business". Fundamentalists can certainly "be simple-minded", but to the extent that liberals are a bit smarter there is far more room "to deceive oneself" in a fool's haunted house of emotional validation, which is why there is no fool more dangerous "than a half-educated one". Yet to get down to "the fundamental bedrock" of what matters, and folks will see the good, with what they desire to uplift themselves, reflected upon their soul and be inspired to serve "the life force" in its struggle upward.

On a Scuzzier Note--

Certainly there must be "better ways" to get famous than what this ole' gal on the right did, though I'm laughing like hell "at it all". . . . .

Gotta Love "The joy of Inc.". . . . . rolling out of bed as you come up with beautiful ways "to punk the press".

Hey, Noni-- you want to know what UFO stands for? U.ninvited F.uckin' O.utsiders hoverin' around like flashbulb piss-gnats. (Punks/"Punks in the Press": a Mutual Antagonism)

Jeepers-Creepers. . . . . look at those "peepers". My, are they bright!

"Lighting up your world 1-prick (@)-a time" 

"To Honestly Contemplate SELLING OUT". . . . . part of what makes me RELEVANT is the fact that I serve as a counterbalance to say, the strictest pressures of "the profit motive" or "peer pressure", when you have a bunch of bullies and pretenders strutting around, in control of the rhetoric above a semi-cognizant population that mostly moves about "in a dead sleep". So long as I remain "off the official radar" as I continue to jab what passes as this dubious, bug-eyed "establishment" in the ribs, maximum "CRINGE FACTOR" is to be had, when you point out the patent "conflict-of-interest", if not the inherent "vested interest" of some very common human foibles that plays upon greed, showmanship, and illusion-- and the need for the gullible, oftentimes just "as greedy"-- to fall for "the ruse", no matter how apparently "high-minded" and bedecked in solemn-- sometimes glittering-- principle that only deceives. And to understand that CREDIBILITY is "keeping it real" and not trying to fool anyone with a fundamentally BOGUS PITCH. I don't wish to be a slave to that system and will always have enough existential freedom from it all to still keep the fundamental right "to wink", though cooperating when I find it "within my interest to do so" with that very "wink", which is why I'm currently not "AN ENEMY OF THE STATE" locked up somewhere. Otherwise, I have no real interest in sacrificing my soul on the altar of commerce, when it is so clear "that I don't have to"-- even as I keep my moral, intellectual, and artistic integrity without resorting to silly, misleading postures that would perhaps only deceive "the viewers at home". . . . .

Check out the business of "V.I.P Access" on the rock n' roll concert tours that doesn't know what else to do, but sort "of shrug"-- and auction off fanatical "fan support" to the highest bidder because so many out there "could never be told different", not unless you give them a 15 minute presentation with charts, pointers, and graphs-- that would not only "take away the magic of rock n' roll", but send "the sweetest plum" of your creatively-recouped loss "from record sales" howling away from "the box office" like stung "true believers". . . . . here.

It makes you "kind of question the taste" of a place like www.metallica.com with the ever-present "gift shop" and "fan club offer". . . . . but such is the swampy slurry of fandom's beast played out at the world "of Star Trek conventions".

"The Circle-Jerk" of our globalist elite's fads, fancies, schemes, scams, & HORSESHIT is just that-- lost in an orgy of blitzed-out pleasure, confusion, "and mind-games" until they throw open the door and find that the cupboard is bare and their holdings, "crown jewels", and "faded credibility" is on "fire-sale" before the hooting laughter of pimps and thieves and low-lives, if not the non-white "howling mob" they were so foolish "to cast their lot with". If there will be "death to the liberal insect", it shall be at the hands of them. . . . .

-- "Mister, there is a reason why France is your home"

This is what America needs!

Read all about it here

"The Scoundrel's Refuge!!"

Now, you may not agree with Barry on everything-- but the message IS getting across that the big city "blue state" brush-off with those tin-horn values by the oftentimes "unthinking" is NOT the way to steer a middle-course through the ferocious fire-fights of "the culture wars". But you're "beating up" on a faction that basically "doesn't have a chance" against the churning, stewing underbelly of that good ole' standby, "white rage". If you're in on "the punch-line", the humor is that you keep extending them "gracious mercy" as the conservative gentleman "above such pettiness".

"Didja here about Chelsea Clinton's wedding?". . . . . it's gonna cost $3, $4, or maybe $5 million dollars and is gonna have 500 people on the guest list-- mostly Hollywood celebrities and big Democratic "movers n' shakers" like Barbara Streisand n' Oprah as she's wedded off to some elite Hungarian/Romanian "Count Dracula" of an investment banker, an alliance "of blood-suckers" as America is short-sold TO THE RED CHINESE. It's gettin' so that "the white man don't even got a chance no more". . . . . youknowhutImean?

(A Strange & Terrible Saga)

  Click here

Mash-up two themes & Get this here  

Nancy Pelosi Presents. . . . .

THE FAIRNESS DOCTRINE!

<>>   

Two Cretins Face the Desert of Media Job Market Bleakness. . . . . Munching on Psychedelic Cactus in an Orgy of Dehydration.
  Vote "Rand Paul"!!

"World of Fire". . . . . Ole' Mel **Gibson** is in hell these days for hopped-up madness. Call it "an unequal relationship of power" on the easy-pickin's of your nightclub circuit when a cocktail waitress doesn't know any better but to fall for the dizzy "magical solution" of "God-like auras" and matinèe charms.

(What a strong-willed, feminist contender)

Almost as hilarious as "the leg-men". . . . . or the character a number of years ago-- a shy, gesticulating creep who started a random conversation with my Mom while she was walking home with her two boys at night and seemed far more entranced "with her bust" than anything she had to say. For the right price, a willing & able "foreign bride" and the miracles of modern medical science-- who couldn't say his dream might be on your platter of beer, frisbees, and "foam hats"? Yes, spelled out right there in "the niche catalogs" though commonsense "was getting harder to find". . . . . much less (decency?) on "discount".

When "man-fishing" in such sludgy pools was going to get you "a-run-of-the-mill" plate of comic episodes, that "could probably not be unexpected in hindsight". Owl-eyed creeps, "control freak" corporate lawyers, working-class drunks, you name it. And hollow "flute-snoot" sophistication, a shell-game of dark motivation with the flurry of pasty-mouthed scandal. There were attitudes of rageful exhaustion "with snapped-up scum-picker's bets" among everybody. . . . . the low-man's lyric sung by guys and dolls alike.

Animals. Dogs. Divorce papers.

And then there were the daytime talk-shows, "talking about talking"-- the contemporary '90s fad. Wholesome, generic "swilled answers" that never got very beyond "skin-deep"-- such as watching "all these black folks" with their bonkers problems groovin' with the theme music as they cut to commercial break, as if their compulsive relationship-hopping applied "to the rest of us". Rikki Lake reminded you of an overburdened "telephone operator" out of a "Three Stooges" skit barely able to keep her vaguely sad, chipmunk-like concentration as she cut to an űber-triumphant audience-member comment while Jenny Jones always had this creepy, zombified smile plastered onto her face by the skin of the program's ingratiating teeth-- theoretically a stage, bleachers, a camera crew, "and not much else". . . . . both shows filmed in happenin' cosmopolitan areas.

Hocked woes, cheap advice, "bottomless conundrums". Shameless, shameless, shameless. Illusionary okayness? Maybe.

From time-to-time "Oprah" would have a treat for its jelly-boned watchers-- perhaps some lucky contestant would get a date with some Hollywood hunk or bodybuilder or Soap Opera star "or something" as the audience screamed and hopped "with this magical solution" lowered from the ceiling to a common plight. It made for "good television"; the female species had "the emotional intelligence" to see it FOR WHAT IT WAS.

But the reverse wasn't true. . . . . say a man squatting in a hovel in Pakistan down some merchant's back alley with stripped gun parts and crawling out to pay the local warlords "protection money" with gray, spidery motions. Or some nebbish, nervous character hopping around like a small, flightless bird or a 450 pound frump of a fat man with a boquet of roses in a meaty fist. Well, what are you going to tell them? "Nothing". Hopefully, "nature will take its course". Gotta love it.