Friday, October 16, 2009

What if there was only one man left in the world?

Whoa. Gut reaction? Now think about that for a moment. Go on, take a moment or two. Ponder. Reflect. Let it sink into the recesses of your mind.
Are you chilled to the core, ladies? To think, no more emotions to toy with, no more free dinners and doors opened, no more gold digging, only DRAMA.
Or perhaps, you can breathe a little easier. The stench is gone. It’s clean, inside of your house and out. The world isn’t as hairy. True freedom?
There are the rather obvious thoughts that accompany this question. It would be more like the animal kingdom, female style. If you’re a more intelligent woman, or a lady possessing an imposing personality, you’ll most likely fill the posts men have traditionally occupied – CEOs, Senators, doctors, lawyers, law enforcement, etc. I’m not supporting the system, just saying we live in a male-dominated society. It seems as though there would be less wars, less testosterone-induced jockeying/manipulating. More motherly tendencies, more compromise. Not everything would be perfect, mind you, because some tendencies are inherent in human nature, regardless of sex. Probably an increase in back-biting, gossip, and general (female dog)-iness.
But what of the procreation question, you ask? Ahhhh, here is the tricky part. Gut reaction is to say however unattractive and non-enticing that one male is, he is going to have many chances to sow his seed. For shipwrecked sailors on a deserted island, it is only a matter of time before a shipmate begins to look pretty tasty. Am I comparing a woman’s libido to cannibalism? Absolutely. But more like the Donner Party, only if forced into it. For their male counterparts, the method and timeframe is much shorter. We are descendants of cannibalistic islanders. It’s just too natural for us. But I digress.
What if technology was so advanced women didn’t need that one man? It’s plausible. Artificial insemination, we somehow can create mojo, or have enough stored up to last forever?
How about that last scenario, PLUS that one man just happens to be IMPOTENT?
Now that, my friends, sounds like an excellent premise for a story. Hmmmm….

Yep, I’m gonna write it. But first I need to get into the spirit of it. Need to get a little literary flow goin on – it will be a first person account, so it needs to be bitter, cynical, a little satiric. I mean, he’s the only guy left in the world, he’s got the pick of the litter, but he doesn’t. Heh. I like that.
I will be honest, I am writing this because of the women in my writing class. A word describing canines I omitted above is really the best descriptor; they’re usually married, and for some odd reason I just can’t imagine what their husbands are like, unless they’re cardboard cut-outs or vegetables. Maybe they’re like the family dog, lovable and yet so useless. So she will obviously be in the story as well, as the domineering, pen-wielding psychiatrist. Yes, I think that will do nicely.

Quick story then, to get into the flow of things. A few weeks ago, I was strolling through campus, enjoying the crisp, cool fall air, the sunlight warming my face, the delights of the female population. Suddenly, my ears were accosted by a most offending sound. No, no, the offense didn’t come at first. It began like a gnat flying too close to my ears. An annoyance.
From across the open plaza filled with eager students, I heard someone whistling. The sound wafted over the heads of the students to me. It wasn’t particularly loud, I admit. But then I spotted the culprit more than 100 feet from me. However, it wasn’t just the distance. He was whistling “The Bear Necessities.” Not my favorite Disney classic, but still, not particularly offensive. Finally, I spotted the sublime look on his face, his care-free smile on his pursed lips, and my blood began to boil.
As he drew near, the volume became almost unbearable, unbelievably absurd. Who did this Jolly Whistler think he was? Um, excuse me, do you know how loud you are whistling? I don’t think I can shout that loud. It seemed as though he believed the rest of the student population was actually enjoying this. He passed by me, not noticing my look of incredulousness.
To you, Jolly Whistler: you are what makes me hate BYU sometimes.

1 comment:

  1. "Am I comparing a woman’s libido to cannibalism? Absolutely."

    I disagree: if there is one man left on the earth AND he's disgusting AND he's a whore, I will die a virgin thank you very, very much. I'd prefer to take my chances with dating in spirit paradise!