7 Reasons

Tag: Arts

  • 7 Reasons You Don’t Feel Like a Real Man

    7 Reasons You Don’t Feel Like a Real Man

    Society has a very rigid idea of what constitutes masculinity.  Often, our definitions of what is masculine are rooted in the conventions and gender roles of the past, something which makes them unachievable ideals rather than anything tangible, or real, to aspire too.  Despite knowing this though, sometimes you feel that you don’t quite measure up.  Here are seven reasons that you don’t feel like a real man.

    French (France) rugby player Sebastien Chabal in his pants holding a baby.  It's possibly his lunch.

    1.  You use moisturiser.  Using moisturiser doesn’t feel manly.  It’s very good at keeping your skin soft and preventing the premature aging of the skin, but it’s not manly.  I once moisturised my face, exited the bathroom (which my wife then entered) and tried to open the bedroom door.  I couldn’t, as my hands were slick from the moisturiser and I couldn’t grip the doorknob.  I was trapped outside the bedroom for five minutes.  “This never happened to the captain of the Titanic”, I remember thinking, as I waited for my wife to rescue me.  Real men don’t use moisturiser.

    2.  Facial hair.  Real men – Victorian men – sported impressive and elaborate facial hair.  Who, apart from Daniel Day-Lewis and Sebastien Chabal, can even grow such magnificent face furniture today?  Certainly no one at this website – the best we can manage are a sparse ginger moustache and a slightly less sparse – but still bloody ginger – beard.  Modern men also trim their facial hair too much.  Real men have natural and wild facial hair – not prissy, neat goatees (and you should never, ever trust a man with a neat beard.  Noel Edmonds has a neat beard).  Real men do not have neat beards.  Real men have substantial, flowing beards that are the same colour as their head-hair.  Real men probably don’t even have scissors.  In fact, real men probably eat scissors.

    3.  Coffee.  Coffee is an amazing beverage and real men drink it.  What real men don’t do, however, is go into Starbucks and order a venti soy-hazelnut-vanilla-cinnamon-white-mocha-choca-latte with caramel and an extra shot of espresso.  Real men drink their coffee black, from tin mugs around a fire – or some sort of black-lead-coal-stove-thing with flames and a chimney – and the stronger and viler tasting the coffee is, the better.  Also, real men don’t drink their coffee from cups – even if that is the only receptacle that fits into their espresso maker properly – and they don’t have a muffin with it.  Not blueberry; not zucchini-walnut.  Real men have no muffin.

    4.  Pain.  Real men shrug off pain.  Pain isn’t good – it’s er…well…painful – and it can be undignified.  It especially hurts when you’re plucking the middle of your eyebrow to pluralise it.  That sort of pain is reasonably manageable though.  Real pain, however, can only dealt with by real men.  I injured my knee last year (in a very manly way – up a mountain).  The next day, when I woke up, it really hurt.  As I climbed out of bed and put weight on it I suddenly – and quite unexpectedly – shrieked “I yi yi yi yi”, in the manner of Carmen Miranda.  Real men don’t react that way to pain; Sir Ranulph Twisleton-Wykeham-Fiennes chopped his own fingers off with a fretsaw in his shed to save himself a six-thousand pound surgeons bill.  I bet he didn’t shriek “I yi yi yi yi” like Carmen Miranda – or like anyone else.  Never mind exhorting men complaining of pain to “man-up”, they should be told to Fiennes-up (I’m really hoping that will catch on).

    5.  Décor.  You actually care about what the inside of your own home looks like and have an opinion about it too.  You have even bought Laura Ashley toile-patterned sheets in both red and blue, because they look nice.  Do real men care about soft-furnishings?  Did Douglas Bader rearrange the cushions on his sofa and extinguish the scented candles before going off to beat the Germans without his legs?  No he bloody didn’t.  Real men don’t spend their time cocking about with flock-wallpaper and vases.  Nor do they have a set of Le Creuset pans.  Real men don’t even need legs.

    6.  Pets.  Real men have real pets – parrots, cats or reasonably-sized dogs.  What they don’t have are little dogs that you can put in a bag or rodents, budgies, rabbits, guinea pigs, chinchillas, snakes or fish.  They certainly don’t have fish.  You can tell a real man by the way he interacts with his pet.  No real man names his pet Fluffykins or Pookles.  Real men give their pets sensible names.  Real men also address their pets properly, rather than clicking at them or making baby-noises.  They address them as if they were a visiting chum:

    “So Mr Prendegast, the sun has just passed the yard-arm, what would you say to a spot of brandy?  What’s that Mr Prendegast?  You’re a cat and you don’t drink brandy?  Oh I see.  Would you settle for some biscuits and a rub under the chin?  I’m glad.  There’s a good chap.”

    That’s how a real man talks to a pet – like an equal.  Real men don’t address pets as if they were idiots, or children.  They don’t dress them up in clothes or put them in bags.  The only time a real man carries a pet is when he wants to put it outside so that it can chase something.  He certainly doesn’t give his pet chocolate-drops or a hug.  Or give anyone a hug, for that matter.

    7.  You are a woman.  Women don’t feel like real men.  They don’t even feel like pretend men.  They feel warm and soft.  They sound like this:

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  • 7 Reasons To Become An Artist

    7 Reasons To Become An Artist

    tracey-emin-my-bed

    1.  Name. You can change it. To anything you like. Banksy. Hotelsy. Police Stationsy. No one cares. They just think you are cool and will queue up for hours to see your latest graffiti on the toilet wall.

    2.  It’s A Con. You can do anything and call it art. Take Tracey Emin for instance. No, actually don’t bother. No one is quite sure where she has been. Instead take a look above. That’s Emin’s artwork. My Bed it’s called. The Saatchi Gallery describe it thus, ‘Tracey Emin shows us her own bed, in all its embarrassing glory. Empty booze bottles, fag butts, stained sheets, worn panties: the bloody aftermath of a nervous breakdown. By presenting her bed as art, Tracey Emin shares her most personal space, revealing she’s as insecure and imperfect as the rest of the world‘. This is how Jonathan Lee describes it, ‘Bollocks‘.

    3.  Entrepreneurship. We’re in a recession here in the UK. You aren’t going to find a job. So become an artist. All you have to do is pop down to the scrap heap and pick up a bit of metal. Whack it with a hammer a few times and suddenly you have something you can call ‘The Distressed Pigeon’. Then go on Dragon’s Den and wink at James Cann a few times. You’ll be a millionaire before you can say, ‘Gordon Brown won the election! What the…’

    4.  Nudes. Apparently you get to paint nudes if you are an artist. The only reason I know this is because I occasionally walk back from Hammersmith past an art school. Look through the window and all you can see are naked people covered in paint. Someone out there is making a killing on the sale of White Spirit.

    5.  Van Cough. Not to be mistaken with Van Gogh. Well, actually, yes he is. Rory Bremner makes a fortune spoofing Blair and Brown and the like, so why not become the first art spoofer? A spoofer is very different to a forger. You can get arrested for forging art. For spoofing it you could probably earn £1.56 a week by showcasing your work on a website. You just have to make the Sunflowers look ironic or something. You’ll be a cult leader in no time.

    6.  Vive la France. You may be French or you may just own a beret. Whichever it is, it is illegal to own a beret and not be an artist. If you are caught wearing a beret while not working in the arts, you will be sacked and forced to sell onions from tights.

    7.  Drugs. Now I am not advocating taking anything illegal here, I am really addressing those already addicted. There is no doubt that being high improves your creative output. Just look at The Beatles or Brian Wilson or Silvio Berlusconi. Though thinking about it, I guess the only reason Berlusconi got high was viagra. So ignore that example. Viagra doesn’t count. I’m taking about proper Class A drugs. If you are on something, as by the law of averages at least one of our readers surely must be, then maybe think about paying for your habit by drawing what you see in the twilight zone? It’s not like anyone is going to try and find out if you are portraying the truth or not, is it?