Men Are Stupid, Women Are Crazy

Roy Lichtenstein

Note: Still a huge work-in-progress, but I wanted to throw this on here.

We're eating salad and discussing the fragility and fumbling madness of relationships.

Over a grilled shrimp salad, you're finally allowing yourself to be angry.  Be volatile.  You're not quite at the tipping point, but you've decided to make room for something other than love.

Over a Cobb salad (without eggs), I'm thinking how it's ok to be angry, as long as the anger doesn't consume and confuse.  I'm also remembering this advice: "There is no point in getting angry. Anger is hurting one's self."

The more we talk about men (but are they really?), the more I think about how hopeless it is to ever really know someone we think we know--the kind of knowing that comes with (well) intuitive understanding and (yes) continual forgiving.

I'm also thinking about the title of a book, Men Are Stupid, Women Are Crazy, a post-modern version of Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus, if you will.  Only more blatant, with no-holds barred psycho-analyzation.

There's even a Roy Lichtenstein-inspired cover of a blue man and a red woman, conversing with speech bubbles, which only foreshadows how the book is more style than substance.

I think: Yeah, men can be pretty stupid. And women just drive themselves crazy because of it.

And yet, and yet...

All we want is a little piece of that crazy stupidity to savor.


Written: 7/6-7/7/10