Proclaiming that “____ is dead!” is a tired pronouncement that has been applied to almost every cultural phenomenon, from print media to rock ‘n’ roll to New York City. So I’m sorry to say that, today, I proclaim masculinity dead.
“You can’t just give up on masculinity!” my friend Kate opined. “There are so few really good men left! You have to organize, stick together, for us women’s sake!”
For years, Kate has begged me to start a cultural men’s movement with her filmmaker boyfriend, but I could never muster the ambition of my favorite feminist. There are simply not enough of those good men left to fend off the infidels.
“My dear, it is dead and gone. We arrived on the scene far too late,” I said.
By the time I became an adult, masculinity was MIA, possibly even DOA. For college-aged men, masculinity is no longer a way of life or a personality trait, but rather a case of “Whodunit?”
The first suspect is political correctness. Grown men lived in constant fear of sexual harassment suits being flung about in a society where litigation has reached the level of national fetish. Pro-sex feminists would never stand for the denial of personal sexuality that comes with being PC. (Perhaps PC should really stand for Puritanism Controlled).
Next in the lineup are the marketers. New classifications for men such as “metrosexual” and “NASCAR dad” should be enough to secure a warrant. Men, don’t you see what they are trying to do? The marketers’ MO is to divide and conquer. It is much easier to sell a product to a man who has been brainwashed into believing he exists not as a person, but as a brand image.
This is the same wool that has been pulled over women’s eyes for years. Never mind the first hundred pages of Vogue being advertisements. Consider the arrival of lad magazines such as Maxim from England — “Beware the scourge of foreign influence!” Who among us will take the time to truly discern what you are when it can be bought prepackaged?
What is to stop you from buying Maxim’s sexier-and-sounder forebear, Playboy? The flush of PC-ness? Watson, I think we might be on to something.
But aren’t the marketers just feeding off our own ethnocentrisms? “Meterosexual” is a term rife with homophobia and empty of sophistication. The sad fact is that the new face of pretty-boyishness is connected with sexuality for the same reason people still use “queer” and “gay” as derogatory words. Conversely, “NASCAR dads” are the hottest demographic for spin-doctors because they believe these men are unsophisticated and easily manipulated.
Good god, men, give yourselves some credit! We are not that simple. Would any of us call James Bond, Hugh Hefner or Snoop Dogg a prim-dandy simply because they enjoy the finer things in life, including fancy clothes and impeccable grooming?
Would you stand on the mound and throw at Mike Piazza based on rumors he was gay? If so, do you really think he couldn’t stomp your ass, queer or not? Since when can men not enjoy the barbarism of WWE while also mourning Tom Ford’s recent presentation of his last line for Gucci in Milan?
Most disappointing on the list of suspects is parenting. Our parents’ generation has often been too self-interested or non-participating to impart complex ideals such as masculinity to their children. Divorces and deadbeat dads stole healthy models of masculinity from much of our generation’s male youths.
The prosecution would like to submit Rick Reilly’s 2004 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition column as the people’s Exhibit A. Reilly is rendered a babbling idiot in the presence of supermodels and must wear sunglasses because he cannot keep from leering at them. Worst of all, he’s apparently passed this trait on to his son.
What sort of a man acts like that in the presence of amazing women? Not a very masculine one. That’s right, Reilly, I’m calling you out. Masculinity’s ultimate complement — not unraveling — is femininity. Therefore, any man who shows disrespect for, animosity against, violence toward or shakiness in the presence of women is not very masculine at all.
Ask any two girls: “What are men?” and you’ll hear “confusing,” “arrogant,” and “desensitized.” Ask those same girls, “What is masculinity?” and you’ll hear “equanimity,” “intelligence,” and “charm.” Wise up, gentlemen. Girls don’t want a Prada model or Hulk Hogan. They want Rat Pack, George Plimpton, Hans Solo/Indiana Jones. Style and substance.
Wait. This is something too important and too dear to me. I’m not going to give up that easily. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, and yes, Kate, there are still good men left. Tell your filmmaker boyfriend it is time to cowboy up.
I hereby invite all men — regardless of color, creed or sexuality — to get your feet out of your mouths, your dicks out of your hands, and your testicles out of your purses and to start being real men. The fight to resurrect masculinity will not be an easy one, but if it is missing, we must find it, and if it is dead, then we must create a new masculine ideal from the ashes.
If anybody out can hear me, e-mail me at [email protected]. I’ll be starting some sort of website or blog or something — anything — to light the fires of the revolution.
Vive la Résistance!
