haughty

After 32 years of being called haughty i’ve learned to fake sounding gentle. To hide my intelligence. If i disclosed to you a different side, if i paraded my boastful mode of argumentation, if my talking was forceful and incisive — that was not a mistake. I was acknowledging your own strength of mind. I believed you could handle the impact. And i also wished to share this intelligence thing instead of keeping it greedily to myself. The arrogance you accused me of was just curiosity. The sharpness was just eagerness to hear from you.

It seems, though, i was wrong.

This is farewell.

were free love went wrong

It seems to me the hippie enterprise of liberalizing sex has, despite enormous potential, failed to rid the world of constant frustration and permanent strife. But if you come to think of it, it couldn’t. I mean: 96.17% of the conflicts revolve around who’s shagging who. If you de-scarce the resource, reasons for war should vanish. The argument is so compeling that, upon verifying that things did not turn out this way, my first instinct is not to question the assumption, but to try and find what went wrong.

And, of course, there is an easy answer, the scapegoat reeking suspisciously of Market-h-ing, by what i mean the strategy of presenting promiscuity as “free love”. Sure, good sex and infatuation go hand in hand, but to promise that by lowering the barrier to sex would lead everyone to healthy, fulfilling relationships, certainly will pass as an unfulfilled promise.

Having more sex could come with very healthy effects, but blossoming expectations do have the opposite consequences, in spades. Calling sex for love just piles up unrealistic demands.

I am still confident on the merits of promiscuity, thoough.

my mother died yesterday, or about intensity

My mother died the day before yesterday, i would like to take the moment to share my thoughts about intensity.

Can we do everything with intensity? Conversely, isn’t it a little sick to take everything seriously? Would we die if we were constantly overtaken by this slight breathlessness of love, passion, and of the very important things?

My mother always took everything too seriously, in a way, and maybe this is the most powerful thing i carry of her.

So, i think, yes, it is too much. It is taking too seriously. There is no need to be so intense about everything, nor to live every single moment with such passion and such quiet fury, it is all excessive. But it is a choice.

Some people just choose intensity.

And maybe we can’t survive this breathlessness. But it is an interesting experiment.

further silliness of Bateman’s

The «Bateman Principle» is the idea that males are promiscuous “by nature” because they can have like zillions of offspring with different woman — thereby “winning the genetic lottery”. Despite it being proven to be bollocks even for simple organisms like drosophila, you can still hear such elements proposed seriously — even in the best families.

As you can imagine, such stupidity drives me nuts. Not only because it is extremely moralizing and prejudiced, but also because it is, simply put, wrong. My latest realization regarding it´s wrongness is that, in most complex species, having more children than the species average is a kind of reproductive failure(!).