The Modern Male: Dilemmas

This is the first in a series, to be completed by bigcat5 and sspain.

The life of the Modern Male is a complex one. It is a constant stream of information processing. Life is filled with numerous decisions, some needing an urgent response, some that don't. On a regular basis, the male comes across a decision that is completely befuddling. Most of the time, it comes down to desire versus comfort. This often leads to some creative solutions, often noted for their hilarity.

The first dilemma we shall examine is a common one. The T.V. is on, and whatever is on is something uninteresting. Normal male response is to change the channel. No dilemma there. However, there is a wrench in this potential situation: the remote is nowhere to be found. Now this is a dilemma. Does the man give up his comfortable, reclined, beer-resting-on-stomach position to get up and change the channel manually? Or maybe he feels around the couch for the remote, vainly hoping that it is somehow beneath a cushion? Or does he sacrifice it all, and goes on a determined remote finding mission? Or the final option, just fucking deals with what's on T.V.

Responses can be varied, depending on the man, the time of day, the amount of beer left, and his overall attitude. The shrewd man will weigh how much beer is left in the bottle or can, and see if he can somehow combine the tasks of finding the remote or changing the channel with getting another beer. If a man has a fresh beer, he is definitely more likely to deal with whatever crap is on the tube. Most men will look around for the remote in the couch, and when they don't find it, they will then commence upon a giant search for the remote throughout the room. To many this seems a waste, when he can merely get up and change the channel. But the male knows better. He knows that he can find the remote, and enjoy limitless comforts upon his return to his domain (the couch).

Another dilemma is the one that exists between hunger and effort. There comes a time during the day when you get hungry. The modern male will struggle with this debate: to cook or not to cook. Most men will ponder this for a great while, putting off cooking further and further, to the point where he says fuck it, grabs the instant mac and cheese and plops his ass down in front of the 11 p.m. sportscenter.

See, men can't justify the effort of cooking for himself, making the mess and the dishes and what not, when a simple mess-free solution will do. Look at it from the male perspective that hunger needs to be sated as quickly and as easily as possible. Why fire up the grill, defrost the steak, and then grill it and eat it. That is completely fucking inefficient to fulfill a need that easy mac will do in 5 minutes. Lazy? To the untrained eye, maybe. But to the knowledgeable, the modern male is the epitome of efficiency.

The final dilemma we shall take a look at is the discomfort dilemma. It's Sunday, the Bears are whooping up on the Packers (Fuck you, it's my situation), and all of a sudden the life partner comes up nagging "We need this and blah blah that, and the garbage needs to blah blah blah blah what! If you don't get off that blah blah blah french toast blah blah blah no sex." The male will perk up at no sex. Then his mind will leap into action. What is more uncomfortable: the nagging or the work. Most of the time the male will do what is asked so that the nagging stops because that is the most uncomfortable thing. However, extenuating circumstances will mean a reprioritization of the task. Because every man will utter some absurd excuse when the thing that needs to be done is cleaning the gutters. We have a high tolerance for nagging in this respect. It is the one thing I am convinced we have on the apes, this highly developed tolerance of nagging.

There are many other dilemmas on the road to valhalla (read: the bathroom). The male mind is well equipped to deal with all of these bumps on the road. From nagging wives to lost remotes, we shall persevere. We will slack on the beaches, and in the streets, we shall never get up, until such time that our beer is empty or warm. Now I need to find that fucking remote.