The woman is a god

The woman is a god.

No amount of study, research, experiment, murder and even cloning can duplicate or explicate the mystery packed into human flesh. A woman walks by and every male within sight acknowledges her presence and evaluates her. Whether this is done overtly, covertly or subconsciously- it does not matter, for that image will be burned into his memory forever.

He (the male) will categorise her along the lines of beauty, complexion, weight and size, and race. He will rate her desirability within seconds of setting eyes upon her. It is amazing why the most usual emotion she will provoke is sexual- the man will first detect her facial attractiveness, subsequent to which he will then asses the size/shape of her breasts, hips and buttocks. Why does the sight of a woman not provoke something else- like hunger? Sleep? Building a house? Even fighting wars? The mere sight of an animal first arouses feelings of danger- the urge to either fight or run. So why does the woman who is infinitely more dangerous than any animal in the forest invoke cosy feelings?!

The woman has her attractiveness as a strategy. She draws them in, then strikes. More venomous than a thousand vipers, more choking than a thousand pythons wrapped around an eggshell.  She is like the Venus flytrap- colourful on the outside, emitting wonderful scents, but beneath the fineries lurks the peril. The first insect that lands on her petals instantly is sucked in down a winding tunnel of teeth. That insect that paid attention to the promise of endless nectar is suddenly neck-deep in blistering enzymes. The existence of a carnivorous plant is proof that the woman is pure disaster waiting calmly for the next victim.

Even though men have known her nature for generations and generations, the majority still seek her out. The average man will slave away for years, will endure the harshest conditions, will bear the risk of constant rejection once he has identified the particular murderess (for that is how dangerous she is) he wants to die by. He will talk to, cajole, threaten, fight, injure and perhaps kill other men for the sake of being the sole beneficiary of her attentions.

He will spend all he has; he will devote his attentions and mental faculties to the chase. He will begin to eat that which might be beneath his tastes; conversely he will acquire tastes that might once have been perceived as dainty and cosmetic. In this state of singular pursuit, he might occasionally or frequently (depending on his temperament) dabble into side-projects. The physical features of the female although desirable can be replaced with imitations. Thus the man may spend time in idle contemplation, visualising the end of his chase and creating fantasies based on the female or any other female he can conjure up.

Perhaps the gullibility of man has emboldened the womenfolk to replace the natural with the artificial. Women have evolved from the basic homo sapiens specie to something more avian- they have begun to attach claws (filed to resemble the fingernails of the woman). They have begun to affix hairs shorn off the corpses of dead women (or those extracted from the living in a ritualistic manner). Even the mammary glands which nature graciously endowed the women with are steadily being replaced with bags of sand and water. First the breast is sliced open by means of a very sharp knife and drained of fluids; then the bag of sand and water is fitted into the breast. After about 3 months of this ritual the scars may completely heal and the breasts maintain a general semblance of constant size, texture and firmness.

Interestingly, most of the persons who possess this skill are men, a worrisome case of Men empowering their natural enemy in their game of deceit. It is a wonder that these men are not rounded up and burned at the stake for their treachery. Again, it is evident that the men, who desire the physical qualities that have been shown to be more bird-like than human, are willing to pay for such. Thus, a man will seek out a woman, and for the sake of the nectar which he so desires, will part with his worldly possessions for the sake of beautifying the sword that will pierce his soul.

And it is in this that I find the godhood of the woman. She is unsuited for menial, muscle-demanding chores. She ordinarily cannot handle the danger of wild beasts (wilder beasts, if we must tell the truth for the woman is domestic only because she lives in the society of men). Her body structure makes her incapable of extended physical work. She ordinarily cannot build settlements on her own. In short, she cannot provide her basic needs; but she survives.

She enslaves the man, despite his physical superiority, to do her bidding, to meet her needs and to protect her from other prospective slaves. With all the sophistication of the man, he cannot detect the doom towards which he is marching triumphantly. How she manages to bring a higher being into subjection with such totality is a complete mystery.

The woman is a god

NOTE: This is my attempt at sounding a bit detached and scientific. Hope you enjoyed