“Sometimes, periodically I struggle with the possibility I could hurt somebody. That sometimes it’s orgasmic. What does it mean when fighting gets you erect, what does that mean?” -Mike Tyson
Why do us men crave and relish the experience of war? What is it about bloody fists and black eyes that secretly gives us a swift injection of joy? If we knew, we could never explain it due to the possibility of being looked at as maniacs. Do we even know?
Sure, some might trace it to our evolutionary needs. We survived and thrived as a species by kicking dinosaur ass and when we replicate the experience our tiny brain feels good knowing we live to fight another day and didn’t get eaten so we can carry on our genes and make babies. Yay?
I don’t think that’s it. Maybe that’s the late night beer talking. I mean, it is IT. But there’s more.
Maybe it’s sadism? Maybe all men are oddball freaks that have a weird hidden fetish for destruction?
Nah, joking. I don’t live in California and I ain’t gay.
Maybe it’s just a rebellious thing. Society wants us neutered and lame so we literally fight back by engaging in extreme acts of whoop ass to own the pozzed deep state that runs this soft gynocentric world.
I don’t fucking know. Chalk it up to hidden alien probe programming for all I care. All I know is every man needs to experience violence to feel fulfilled. Whether it’s simulated, friendly, murderous, video game driven.. pick your poison.
We are men. We love to fight.
This has been drunk writing with Red Beard. Fuck off.