Human beings just love to categorize things; to shove both animate and inanimate objects into little color coded folders. This general OCD extends to just about everything with the probable exception of cutlery. The French for example address everything as either male or female. This is a system that was invented in order trip up English spies who had a habit of sneaking into France, learning the language and then stealing recipes to French delicacies like snail bolognaise and frog chops. This is a lie.
David Sedaris, a massively talented writer says, “I find it ridiculous to assign a gender to an inanimate objectincapable of disrobing and making an occasional fool of itself.’ I agree, mostly when the ‘object’ is something on TV.
He also says, “What’s the trick to remembering that a sandwich is masculine? What qualities does it share with anyone in possession of a penis? I’ll tell myself that a sandwich is masculine because if left alone for a week or two, it will eventually grow a beard.” Brilliant, isn’t he?
Last week, a bombastic fuss was made over two young people getting married, a thing that countless other people do every single day on all the habitable spaces on planets Earth and Rupert. Certain people frowned mightily upon those men who curled up on comfy sofas with warm beverages and tissues to watch Kate and William getting hitched.
Mutabingwa defended his watching it by saying, ‘I think the royal wedding was more than a fairytale for the girls to melt about. It also had big political implications and for me, it was like the inauguration.’ He was however adamant that he wouldn’t be caught dead watching reruns.
Some men didn’t bother with hiding or even justifying their obsession with this wedding. After watching it, Tomath was so impressed with her looks that he made Mrs. England his profile picture. Fair enough. She’s hot. He proceeded to gush about the couple and their nuptial proceedings on facebook and he bombarded his friends’ newsfeeds with updates, all about this wedding. This is probably why some of them declared him ‘in touch’ with his testosterone, bent, etcetera. When asked how he felt about this, he said, ‘It’s fun!!! I’m OK!’ and then he started to ramble: ‘my conscience is clear. One thing you should know about me is that I have weird humor, I’m mildly intuitive and spontaneous’ at which point I ended the interview.
This brings us to a crucial question. Are there certain programs on television marked in a sober blue for the consumption of men and a frothy pink just for the ladies? Is there a line that can only be crossed with considerable damage to one’s reputation and credibility as a member of a certain sex?
Kingbonny said, ‘Women who watch masculine movies tend to identify more with males and men who watch b***h movies are gay’. He tried to go back on this when I told him I intended to quote him, but alas, I’d already put it in.
According to Oweka, most people opt for the best programs on TV at the time. He says, ‘Most of the time I’ll watch something on discovery channel instead of Kendra or that stupid thing on NTV with the talking dogs. As a guy, I think that programs with too much emotion are pathetic’.
Let’s bring things home and try to categorize the Hostel. A lot of people have, with a creepy amount of enthusiasm, professed a love for this program. It’s about the lives and monkeyshines of a group of students (although we never see them actually doing the sorts of things that students do, like GO to school) who live in, you guessed it, a hostel. It’s like big brother without the kindergarten colors and kiwi accents. Should a man be lynched when he asks to cut a date short because, ‘Banaye mamabear, it’s the hostel. I simply can’t miss it’, or should his companion say, ‘No problem, papabear. Your place or mine?’
Machete and The Expendables are two movies that probably used more fake blood than all the vampire movies thrown together, and then some. Barbara says, ’The girls I was watching Machete with all fell in love wit Danny Trejo and damn near swooned every time he pulled his machete out.’ This can only mean one thing, that as long as the main character in a movie appears to have cojones made of rock, cool scars and the sort of charisma that makes bad guys, however good looking, look bland in comparison, the lades are sold. Right?
So the stuff that you can roar at and get a heart condition from watching are manly and the things you need a blumfy, box of tissues and a teddy to watch are girlie. So complicated. Why don’t people just read books?