Blown moments again.

Why do women (I know, I'm generalizing but bear with me ... rrrroooarrrrgrr) love to keep secrets so openly and transparently on their sleeves? I have had many relationships with women, some sexual, some plutonic, some just friendly, but all contained that element of sneakiness; the flirtatious smirk attending an offhand remark "Oh, I had a blast from the past today ...," then - nothing. No further explanation. And if one has the audacity to ask "Well, who was it?" the likely response, I've found, is indignation accompanied by irrational ranting about "invading my private space," or "why do you have to always react so suspiciously?"

Well, perhaps I just want to share a conversation about your day? Or maybe it's the way women (in general, again) just love to titillate without stepping to the plate and filling in the blanks. No! That would be too easy, I suppose. We fellows are required to fill in the blanks ourselves and, God forbid, should we come up with a picture of our female acquaintance (lover, friend, whatever) having an intimate reunion with an old lover - regardless of its accuracy, mind you, then all hell will break loose, likely as not.

Now I'm not a kid and I've certainly done my share of mind-games, psychological warfare, emotional lurking and whatnot, but I think women are silly twits when it comes to dropping their little lures in the water, so to speak, then raging when a nibble tugs on their line, as it were. Crazy! And yes, I'm talking about a recent event, in case you're wondering.

But what the hell. If Janet Jackson can turn a tit-flash into milliions of dollars in record/DVD sales who am I to say that women don't have their shit together? Jackson's moment of public lewdness has been lofted to the height of social phenomenon by the media and I think the whole reaction by our stolid fourth estate has been STUPID at best, bellicose degradation at worst. Who was hurt? Who saw something that they haven't seen a thousand times before - and here I include 6-year-old boys and girls? What, women's breasts are a secret? Children just aren't conscious of those mammary glands wiggling on the front of mom's chest? How can a glimpse of Jackson's or any woman's breast - even it is embellished with a sunburst nipple-patch - be so damning in our society? What is the big deal? Christ!

Ah well, it was 1969 when I realized that naked bodies aren't necessarily salacious or nasty or even sexual. Bodies are just flesh on bone and some are lovely to look at, others not so much. But in any case we all have one (some have two if you count genitalia as the WHOLE of person's personhood - and yea, I mean people with both 'packages' for those of you with delicate sensibilities) and the connection between the eyes and brain and not necessarily attached to the soul, and when the eyes happen upon a bare breast the brain does not necessarily go into all out crisis mode! I fear we are becoming a nation of brainless twits, though the reason eludes me, I'll admit.

And so it goes. Why screw up my Saturday any more than it already is (I have to work, per usual) by ranting on about this nation's psychosis when it comes to the human form. God, what if Timberlake had flashed his 'member.'? I suppose Congress would have immediately invoked a national emergency and shut down television broadcasters until a committee could decide how best to flog the thing, so to speak.

Peace out.