Society begins the separation of gender at birth. Boys wear blue, and girls wear pink. Starting at a very early age, all are eventually expected to adhere to certain unwritten rules and conditions promulgated and enforced by the masses, and conform accordingly within a narrow scope of predetermined and predefined “acceptable” behavior, without deviation, transgression, or question.
The concepts of “femininity” and “masculinity” are likewise assigned very specific meanings, and tenets have long been established and applied separately between and to the genders. Crossing from the jurisdiction of one gender into that of the other is typically met with disapproval, misunderstanding, ignorance, and fear. Deviation from the “norm” is frowned upon.
Unfortunately, I was born a genetic male. Not knowing any better, my parents, family, friends, schools, churches, and community did their collective best to raise and condition me to be a manly man. Manly men have huge balls, big swinging <cough, cough>, muscles ON muscles, are full of machismo, enthusiastically engage in the time honored practice of flatulence, and believe expressing any genuine emotion at all is a huge ass character flaw.
The thing is, I don’t like many of the rules I am expected to follow as a genetic male. In fact, given my recent evolution and acknowledgement of self, I say f*** the rules, because the rules have f***ed my life up for too long now. I want to be me, and I am going to be me. The rules be damned. They no longer control my life, they no longer matter as they did before.
And let’s be honest about it all. Many of the so-called rules that males are expected to abide by are just plain stupid, nonsensical, and barbaric. I just don’t get it. I don’t get it at all. But you know what? I am glad that I don’t get it. I am relieved that I don’t get it. Because these rules suck. They are terrible. They are embarrassing. They are debasing and steal true, legitimate meaning from lives that should otherwise be validated through acceptance, love, compassion, and understanding.
For reasons that I shall not address in this post (you all know THAT post is coming, and it's just right around the corner - I apologize in advance), I have thought much about the “rules” lately. I do not like the rules. The rules are not fair. The rules strip those such as I of my purpose, self-worth, and humanity.
Coincidentally enough, I was lost in thought the other night, contemplating the very nature of the male rules of conduct, mindlessly flipping through television channels with not particular interest in mind (a male behavior to be sure - D'OH!!!), when I randomly came across the movie Fight Club. Way back in the day, when I bought in to the expectations that were placed upon me (or rather, I hid deeply within and conformed to the expecations for fear of discovery, rejection, and losing everything important to me), I watched and let it be known that I reveled (ha ha) in this movie.
Seeing some of it now, years and years and years later, I was instantly struck with the inspiration for this post. The rules of Fight Club were intense, violent, macho, and set in stone. Violate the rules at your own risk. The rules of Man Club are not so really that different. And in the same vein, it's violate the rules at your own risk. FWIW, here’s my satirical take on the rules of Fight Club.
The Rules of Man Club:
1st Rule: You always talk about MAN CLUB, sports, chicks, and the large size of your . . . .
2nd Rule: You ALWAYS talk about MAN CLUB, sports, chicks, and the large size of your . . . .
3rd Rule: If someone questions your MANHOOD, it is time to fight.
4th Rule: Every MAN for himself.
5th Rule: A MAN goes to the bathroom one MAN at a time.
6th Rule: No blood, no foul.
7th Rule: There is no crying in MAN CLUB.
8th Rule: If this is your first night at MAN CLUB, you HAVE to blow something up.
As consistent with Fight Club, I have only listed eight rules. But there are sooooo many more. Feel free to cite any rules that SHOULD have been on this list, or COULD have been on this list, or that you just have a problem with . . . .