Tit bits

Most guys seem to have a fixation for the female mammary glands. Show them a half-decent pair in print or on film, and they are sure to wax lyrical over them. I’m quite disgusted with this kind of behaviour from my fellow male members of the human species. Come on guys, there is no need to go bonkers over what are biologically speaking just a couple of modified sweat glands (I’m serious). You can’t be so superficial in your attitude towards women. You just cannot evaluate a female’s worth by the quality of her bosom. That’s absolutely ridiculous and unfair. I mean, you also got to consider her lips, her neck, her arms, her abs, her thighs, and a particularly succulent orb in her anatomy that is also named with the letter ‘b’. Now that is what I would consider a holeistic holistic view of the matter.

Having such advanced views on the matter of feminine beauty, imagine my surprise and dismay when a female friend of mine called them narrow-minded and in fact outrightly boorish, when I happened to expound them to her in a party. She in fact is quite well-equipped in all the attributes which I mentioned in the previous paragraph – the sort of woman who would not be expected to be my friend, except for the fortunate circumstance of her being my batchmate in medical college. She also called me an uncivilized brute and a sensualist philistine to boot.

“Your concept of feminine beauty is pathetically medieval. The true beauty of woman is much more than skin deep,” She said, casting me a look full of loathing.

I quoted Jean Kerr to her.

“I’m tired of all the nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That’s deep enough. What do you want – an adorable pancreas?” I said, repeating the playwright’s words.

She said that the woman was a traitor to all womankind. She also suggested that her books be burnt in the streets on March 20^th, the International Woman’s day.

“So you mean to tell me that a woman is nothing but her body? What about her brain for instance?”

I was quite prepared to admit that possibility. She herself was a glaring example, having recently published a paper on the immuno-pathogenesis of Henoch-Schonlein’s purpura in an International Journal (incidentally, the only paper that I have ever published is my letterhead). In fact she was a sort of cross between Marie Curie and Venus and could very well be another Belle de Jour if she chose to (though I did not tell her that).

“That’s not the point though,” I reiterated. “If men were attracted to brains, then our heroines and models will be starving in the streets. Can you imagine what will happen to art? Our art galleries would be full of paintings of nude brains and men drooling over their curves and fissures – ‘Ooh, what a lovely calcarine fissure!’ Cleavage will take on an entirely different meaning. Other men would be going into the throes of orgasm over the perfect Langford sequence. And literature would be finished; instead of the face, it would be the quadratic equation that launched a thousand ships.”

“And besides,” I continued, “It won’t be a good idea evolutionarily. I mean, if men were just attracted to brains, beauty would be evolved out of the human race. We would all become blobs with oversized brains and bodies equipped with just the digestive and excretory functions. Is that the future you wish mankind to aspire to?” I swallowed the rest of my rum to wet my throat after this burst of eloquence.

She stood in silence for a while, and I thought I had her convinced.

“A—,” she said at last, “That is absolutely asinine. When will you men grow up?”

She was wrong of course. Men will always ‘grow up’ pretty quickly around a woman like her. But I didn’t tell her that.

About doctoratlarge

I have always been a great believer. I've flitted from one belief to another, from religion to atheism and from one philosophy to another, until I finally settled on J. Krishnamurti whose philosophy is that there is no philosophy. So now I firmly believe that there is nothing to believe. Now such a belief would, I believe, have been considered dangerous to society if the authorities had believed me to be of any consequence. No man of consequence they believe would waste his time on the pursuit of blogging!

‹ How Surgical Skills Are Obtained

Tiger Tales ›

Tagged with: art in mathematics, beauty versus brains, jean kerr beauty quote, mammary glands
Posted in humour