Behind every man there is a jet stream of gravitas. By virtue of his gender, man possess weight. Women are graceful and compassionate, but the element of gravitas is lacking.
I expend little effort in taking command of a situation. It's how I open a door, enter a room, gauge its contents, carefully place myself into a chair, establishing my dominance, a damn force field of intimidation. When I clear my throat the others lean forward in anticipation.
In FRONT of every man there is challenge, conquest, power, choices that mold entire nations. Behind us is the sweet vapor of remembrance of accomplishments with all that entails--subjugation, bending others to one's will. Mesmerizing those who would impale themselves seeking transmutation of power, our power.
Yes, behind every man lies a parchment containing insights and ideas for the ages, and that sweet aroma of iron-fisted, single minded dominance.
Unless he has had cabbage for dinner, in which case, the aroma is not quite as sweet.
No comments:
Post a Comment