Outrage!

Dear Editor

With reference to Ben Trovato’s column (Gorilla tactics in mating season) – I was wondering if the Cape Times is so desperate for articles that it could even consider printing such rubbish.

Women aren’t meant to be men’s servants. Ben Trovato is obviously an obnoxious, uninformed womaniser. His article shows exactly what he thinks about women (including his poor wife).

I can completely understand why his wife has lost her libido. Living with such a man could be a complete turn-off. I wouldn’t touch him with a 10-foot pole.

This is not the Stone Age and women actually have lives. We aren’t here to babysit and jump every time men like Mr Trovato’s fragile egos need a boost.

L Koekemoer

Oranjezicht

 

Dear Editor

Ben Trovato’s column (Sept. 3) is beyond offensive. I cannot believe that the Cape Times would publish something of this quality which so clearly reinforces and perpetuates the degradation of women.

Yes, I am sure he thinks it is funny, but, along with many other women no doubt, I found the humour distinctly inappropriate. Such stereotyping of women and jokes at their expense is only a symptom of the wider malaise of our society in which women continue to be oppressed. I think it was particularly obnoxious in the light of the problems we have in getting marital rape recognised as a crime.

Please don’t insult us with this kind of pathetic drivel again.

H Nichols

Pinelands

 

 

I AM appalled. In fact, I am more outraged than “Outraged” of Oranjezicht. I was absolutely boggled to read the scathing responses to my very first column.

To be honest, I was expecting a flood of letters from sympathetic females offering me a little rumpy pumpy on the side. I did not anticipate a tongue-lashing from women who are clearly in desperate need of what I am not getting enough of. I stand accused of encouraging men everywhere to insist that their wives and girlfriends do the cooking and cleaning and whatever else it takes to keep the smile on a man’s face. So what?

Unhappy, frustrated men go into politics and declare war on one another and hold boring international conferences. It is vitally important that men are kept happy. And let me say the fact that I am one is purely incidental. I have only the interests of the planet at heart. To the credit of delegates, and here I must single out Sam Nujoma, the only worthwhile resolution to come out of the recent World Summit on Sustainable Development was the one calling on women to be more aware of the need to keep their men happy.

If I were a woman, I would want to make men happy. It is a fulfilling and potentially lucrative calling. Look at Suze Orman and the girls from Teazers.

But I was not born a woman. And when you are a real man like me, you don’t go out of your way to make other men happy. Unless you want them to buy the next round, of course. I want other people, who aren’t men, to make me happy. Men are happiest when they aren’t doing the dishes and getting French kissed at the same time.

When men are unhappy they want to go off and invade Angola. They start devising ways of killing people just by looking at them. Women take out their frustrations by cleaning things. It is a cathartic process for them. They enjoy picking up wet towels off the floor. Men don’t.

Forcing a man to clean the house is tantamount to taking a blunt panga and hacking off one of his testicles on the bread board right there in the kitchen in front of his friends. On the positive side, you can get him stitched up and by suppertime he is making moon eyes and trying to slip his hand up your skirt.

But forcing him to dust and vacuum is a sure way to fill him with hostility and self-loathing. Sure, the house will be clean. But forget about any action in the bedroom for a while.

Men have always believed that hand-to-hand combat is the best way of sorting out a domestic argument. But they have learned, through bitter experience, that the withholding of sex is a far more powerful weapon. Foolishly, some have even tried it themselves. Needless to say, they failed spectacularly. This is a form of resistance that violates every principle of masculinity.

Even though the man is still seething at the indignity of having to hang up the washing, he is genetically predisposed to slipping into something more comfortable as soon as the last load is on the line. But since the target of his affection is also the target of his resentment, he gets confused and becomes gay. This is what has happened to most of Cape Town’s men.

I have overheard women complaining (in bank queues, on the street, over the radio, in parliament etc) about the lack of straight men in this city. But it is they who have created this situation by forcing their men to cook casseroles, do the ironing and wear pastel-coloured cardigans and clean underwear on the assumption that if they comply they might be rewarded with a little non-violent physical contact.

In some parts of Cape Town it is even worse. In suburbs like Camps Bay, men are expected to know the difference between their Cabernet Sauvignons and their Augustus Pinochets. In the good old days we could just order a beer and a tumbler of whatever it was that made our woman drunk enough to stay the night. Sadly, this glorious age is coming to an end.

Men are constantly being told to become more sensitive – more in tune with their feminine side – but nobody has bothered telling them when to stop. And when your husband is eventually caught flouncing around the house in nothing but a lilac apron and bobby socks, it is people like me who are blamed.

I am outraged.

10 September 2002

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