The World's Gone Soft.

A Manly Lament Backed by Science.  
Gentlemen, gather 'round the digital campfire for a tale of woe. It's a story as old as time, or at least as old as the invention of the man bun. The world, my friends, has gone soft. And no, I'm not talking about those plush bathrobes you've been sporting since the pandemic.
Remember the good old days? When men were men, and shaved with a single blade razor? When "dad bod" meant you'd wrestled a grizzly, not just a family-sized bag of chips? (Though, let's be honest, those are delicious). But seriously, somewhere between conquering continents and conquering the latest Candy Crush level, we seem to have lost our mojo.
Evolutionary biology, that fascinating field that tells us why we crave sugar and swipe right, also has something to say about this. According to renowned anthropologist Helen Fisher, "Men are driven to win. They are driven to be top dog." This isn't about toxic masculinity; it's about millions of years of evolution wiring us to provide, protect, and leave our mark on the world.
But what happens when we swap the thrill of the hunt for the comfort of the couch? When we trade in the primal urge to build and conquer for the endless scroll of social media? Well, science has some answers, and they're not pretty.
Studies have shown that suppressing our natural masculine instincts can lead to a whole host of problems. Low testosterone levels, for instance, have been linked to depression, decreased muscle mass, and even a shorter lifespan. It seems that our bodies are literally rebelling against our overly domesticated lives.
"Modern men are under attack," writes psychologist Philip Zimbardo in his book "Man Interrupted." He argues that the decline of traditional male roles and the rise of a hyper-connected, hyper-stimulated culture have left many men feeling adrift, disengaged, and emasculated.
This isn't just about individual well-being; it has far-reaching societal consequences. A study published in the journal "Psychological Science" found that countries with higher levels of gender equality also have lower fertility rates. In other words, the more we suppress traditional gender roles, the less likely we are to reproduce. Not exactly a recipe for the survival of the species, is it?
But fear not, my fellow men. All is not lost. We can reclaim our birthright, rediscover our primal instincts, and inject a little bit of much-needed testosterone back into the world.
It starts with embracing our natural drive for adventure and challenge. Trade in the autonomous driving electric mobility device  for a  real ICE, hit the road Man and machine - - Power EXTREME ( feels so good bring out that reference) . Swap the treadmill for  exploring wilderness, an haunted house.. Ditch the dating apps and rediscover the art of old-fashioned courtship.
And gentlemen, let's not forget the importance of male bonding. As evolutionary psychologist Robin Dunbar puts it, "Friendship is the human equivalent of primate grooming." We need those deep, meaningful connections with other men to thrive. So, gather your tribe, raise a glass (or three), and rediscover the lost art of male camaraderie.
Remember, we're not just men. We're the descendants of warriors, explorers, and innovators. It's time to unleash our inner wildness, to embrace our masculine energy, and to show the world what we're made of.
Because a life without adventure is like a beer without hops - bland, boring, and utterly forgettable.
So, let's raise a toast to the wild, the untamed, and the unapologetically masculine. May our beards grow long, our spirits remain strong, and our adventures never end.
References:
 * Fisher, H. (2016). Anatomy of Love: A Natural History of Mating, Marriage, and Why We Stray. W. W. Norton & Company.
 * Kimmel, M. (2017). Angry White Men: American Masculinity at the End of an Era. Nation Books.
 * Araujo, A. B., Esche, G. R., Kupelian, V., O'Donnell, A. B., Monda, J. K., & McKinlay, J. B. (2004). Prevalence of symptomatic androgen deficiency in men. The Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism, 89(10), 4873-4882.
 * Zimbardo, P., & Coulombe, N. (2015). Man Interrupted: Why Young Men Are Struggling & What We Can Do About It. Rider.
 * Stoet, G., & Geary, D. C. (2018). Sex differences in academic achievement are not related to country-level gender equality. Psychological Science, 29(11), 1859-1873.
 * Dunbar, R. I. M. (1998). Grooming, gossip, and the evolution of language. Harvard University Press.

The Great Work-from-Home Comedy Show: A Tale of Lost Creativity and Virtual Debates

 

Once upon a time, in the mystical land of Remote Worktopia, creative wizards and tech sorcerers embarked on a grand experiment: working from home. Little did they know that this adventure would lead to hilarity, chaos, and a desperate search for lost inspiration.

Chapter 1: The Case of the Vanishing Creativity

Sir Doodler, the Illustrator Extraordinaire, sat cross-legged on his couch, laptop perched on a pillow. His muse? A half-empty coffee cup and a cat named Whiskers. As he attempted to conjure masterpieces, Whiskers decided to park her fluffy behind right on the keyboard. The result? A digital masterpiece titled “Cat-tastrophe.”

Chapter 2: The Zoom Call Chronicles

Lady Codebreaker, the Cryptic Coder, faced a dilemma. During a Zoom meeting, her code mysteriously vanished. Was it a glitch or a cosmic joke? She typed furiously, “Hello, fellow wizards! My code has transcended reality. Any ideas?” The chat exploded with emojis: 🤔, 😱, and 🧙‍♂️. Alas, the code remained elusive.

Chapter 3: The Battle of the Slack Channels

Baron Brainstormer, the Idea Alchemist, led a fierce battle in the Slack realm. His warriors—#CreativityCoven, #InnovationKnights, and #RandomThoughtsGuild—fought valiantly. But alas, the enemy forces—#CatGIFs, #WatercoolerChats, and #MuteButtonMischief—were relentless. The war cry? “Thou shalt not mute thy brilliance!”

Chapter 4: The Quest for Spontaneity

Princess Improv, the Queen of Quirk, missed the office banter. She longed for impromptu debates, heated arguments, and accidental genius. So, she summoned her trusty steed—Google Meet—and declared, “Let’s discuss quantum physics while juggling flamingos!” Her team stared, bewildered. Flamingos were scarce in the virtual realm.

Chapter 5: The Legend of the Lost Whiteboard

Wizard Scribble, the Diagram Druid, mourned the loss of his sacred whiteboard. No longer could he scribble algorithms, brainstorm epiphanies, or doodle stick-figure dragons. Instead, he wielded a digital pen on a virtual canvas. His flowcharts resembled abstract art. The team nodded, pretending to understand.

Epilogue: The Hybrid Solution

And so, dear readers, the wizards and sorcerers learned a valuable lesson. Remote work, like a mischievous pixie, had its quirks. Creativity yearned for coffee shops, office banter, and accidental collisions. Tech debates craved heated arguments over lukewarm coffee. The solution? A structured hybrid model—a potion of in-office magic and remote enchantment.

As they say in Remote Worktopia, “May your Wi-Fi be strong, your mute button merciful, and your cat-tastrophes legendary.”

And thus ends our tale—a comedy of errors, a symphony of Slack emojis, and a quest for the elusive Flamingo of Spontaneity. Until next time, my fellow wizards, keep your creativity caffeinated and your Zoom backgrounds absurd.

🌟✨🧙‍♀️🚀

---

Disclaimer: No cats were harmed during the creation of this article. Whiskers is now a certified code reviewer.

 

For a more serious and nuanced look at the dilemma please read .   

https://www.linkedin.com/feed/update/urn:li:activity:7190213067257851905?utm_source=share&utm_medium=member_desktop

 

 

Eeran Megham

With Glowing Guitars and blazing ballads,
You sold  my solitude and Defined my desires.

With Dreaming  dholaks and Celestial Chimes,
Transmuted torment to harmonious healing hopes,
As an impassioned iota of you washed over me.

There you stood , took me flying,
Then you smiled , painted my living.
In Stolen Glances, Blinding bliss,
Found my reasons and found my faith.

In  godly groves, among nightly nymphs,
I forge fanatically your arcane altar,
By binding blizzards and taming thunder,
Extracting ecstasy, exciting the esoteric.
Venerating Venus, vivifying the virtuous.


When these Melodious monsoons  nourish nirvana,
Celebrating ur cherubic charm in creations crucible,
Accenting that alluring angelic affection.
Senses soar, scribing sacred sanguine songs,
For when this raven  romantic regale my rhapsody,
Baby, I will make u mine.
......
Omane nine njan swatham aakum.

Beyond the Plunger

 

Sky then grim , Clouds blood red,
Seasons brooding, my life reflecting,
Senses bleeding, Feelings bitter,
But now,
Birds sail the clouds over painted sky,
Sensing only the sweet over a life blooming,
Only a fading throb lost in memories.

Swimming in a hidden lake  of secret desires,
Warming my blood , now meltinh a miracle,
Careful!, Cooking paradise in a spoon,
To smile beyond belief,
For a heart nice and chilled.

Home again too far to reach,
Love, a tight knot in my throat,
Sweet lullabies, all heavenly food, now motherless,
But now,
Green pastures cradle my dreamy daze,
A forgotten angel's bosom nurture my lost soul,
Only a fading throb lost in memories.

Buddies of mine, memories smiling,
In old thoughts, sliding thru songs,
Tourniquet tight, vein red now bulging,
tapped first, the squirted the air bubbles,
to stray beyond life,
for a soul fulfilled.

Sands glowing, tears burning scared cheeks,
Never imagined these storms, into dark jungles i ventured,
Full moon screaming, thw witch sucking my blood,
But now,
Beads of sand stringed, a full moon amulet,
my charm against lost storms, witches and white poison,
Only a fading throb lost in memories.

Trees kiss the sky, white sands spread beyond,
Sinking into its shadow, Rainbow in my vision,
Where the sunlight kissed, made love to the rain,
No escaping sigh, needle into my vein,
Pushed the plunger, might be that angel's tears,
to stay in that dream,
For glory unrealized.

Now into that dream,
For life there is no beyond, Into that splendor,
For hope there is no reason,
Never did leave a scream,
Life twists round and round,
A hero or a thousand lives lesser,
Hero it is now with this HEROIN,
Toxic and tainted in my blood,
Nirvana in this drug,
Cleansed my soul in its poison,
drowned all my fears,
In this angel tears.

I

 Old Poem, I asked AI to critique it. AI thinks I was a genius back in the day.

-- I,
scary puppy,
fading ugly,
burnt sorry,
bord evil,
Silent soul,
raging tears,
dirty poem,
buried fears.
I
faked a life,
found no love,
scorched all peace,
stole my hopes,
 made no home,
lost no sorrow.
I
sugar lipped satan,
blinded desert snake,
red blooded maggot,
faithful old poison,
the sorry plague.
I
dancing in the demon's night,
Sleeping on a cross of nails,
bathing ina sea of screams,
dining in a soulless grave,
living in the vultures eye.
I
Unsung,
Untold,
Unleased,
Unborn.

SMILE

Smile!!

Your  Smile!

I got lost for a while,

Beautiful along the Nile,

Got my heart hostile,

Stranded on a Isle,

Dreaming the miracle mile,

Just smile,

In that pretty style,

Maybe a little beguile.

Just smile, 

and get me lost for that while.

SMILE!!!

The Chromatic Conundrum

 

A Virtual Reality Postulate on the Perception of Pigmentation

Once upon a time, in a world not so different from our own, beauty was a concept as fluid as the ink on ancient papyrus. The gods and goddesses of yore were often depicted with dark, luscious skin, reminiscent of stormy skies and midnight feasts. Take, for instance, the Greek god Zeus, who was often described as "dark-skinned" in ancient texts, or the Egyptian goddess Isis, whose beauty was likened to the rich, fertile soil of the Nile's banks. Well lets forget all the poems and glories written about the dark skinned god Krishna and focus on the meaning. Etymologically speaking, the Sanskrit word 'Krishna' means black or dark.

Fast forward a few millennia, and the advent of visual media like painting and photography brought with it a rather peculiar bias. It seems that the artists and photographers of the day had a penchant for lighter palettes, perhaps because they were easier to capture with the crude technology of the time. This, unfortunately, led to a skewed representation of beauty, where lighter skin tones were favored over their darker counterparts, inadvertently reinforcing societal prejudices and contributing to the rise of racism⁵.

But fear not, for the winds of change are blowing, and they're powered by the mighty engines of virtual reality (VR). In this brave new world, the flat, two-dimensional canvas of old has been replaced by a three-dimensional playground where every skin tone can bask in its natural glory. Gone are the days when shadows and highlights conspired to favor the fair-skinned; in VR, every hue is rendered with the precision and care it deserves. Lets hope that we would discard those bulky headsets using traditional multi-displays for each eye and think more "NeuraLink" or that cool thingy from The Matrix which we insert into our brain.

In this digital utopia, we're no longer shackled by the limitations of pigment and light sensitivity. Instead, we can frolic in virtual meadows where the sun shines equally on all, and the beauty of dark skin is celebrated with the same fervor as any other. It's a place where the phrase "tall, dark, and handsome" regains its ancient prestige, and the aesthetics of skin color are liberated from the biases of yesteryear.

And as for racism in 'The Matrix'?  Can you spot an example. Agent Smith had bigger fish to fry than pondering the melanin levels of his adversaries. In the end, it's not about the color of our skin, but the content of our character... and our ability to dodge bullets in slow motion.

So, will living in 'The Matrix' rid us of racism? It's a tantalizing thought, isn't it? A world where our preconceived notions about beauty and skin color are left at the login screen, and we're free to appreciate each other for who we truly are, pixels and all. While VR alone may not be the panacea for all societal ills, it certainly sets the stage for a more inclusive and equitable perception of beauty—one where every shade is seen, not through the lens of bias, but through the eyes of wonder and appreciation.

 

The Great Gender Divide.

Women's Day Through the Eyes of Men

When International Women's Day rolls around, it's not uncommon to see men scratching their heads in confusion. "Is this the day we buy flowers?" one might ask, genuinely unsure if it's a romantic holiday or a corporate one. Others might take to social media, posting a picture with the women in their lives, accompanied by a caption that reads, "Happy Women's Day to all the ladies who make life beautiful," as if the day were a beauty pageant rather than a call for equality.

Some men, however, see Women's Day as an opportunity to showcase their "feminist" credentials. They'll proudly declare their support for women's rights, often followed by a subtle reminder of how they're "not like other guys." It's a day of performative allyship, where the bare minimum is celebrated as heroic.

Men's Day Through the Eyes of Women

Conversely, International Men's Day often passes by unnoticed, much to the chagrin of some men. "When's our day?" they lament, only to be met with eye rolls from women who are all too aware that every day is, in many ways, already Men's Day.

When women do acknowledge Men's Day, it's often with a sense of irony. "Happy Men's Day," they might say, "to all the men who managed to wear matching socks today." It's a playful jab at the idea that men need a day to be celebrated for their "manliness," whatever that may entail.

The Commercial Response

Retailers, never one to miss a marketing opportunity, approach both days with a keen sense of capitalism. For Women's Day, it's all about selling empowerment in the form of merchandise. "Buy our 'Girl Power' t-shirt and show the world you're a strong woman!" they advertise, as if feminism were a fashion trend.

Men's Day, on the other hand, is a subtler affair. It's less about empowerment and more about reinforcing stereotypes. "Celebrate Men's Day with our 2-for-1 beer special," a pub might announce, perpetuating the notion that beer and masculinity are intrinsically linked.

Conclusion: A Day of Irony and Eye Rolls

In conclusion, Women’s Day and Men’s Day are like those distant relatives you’re obligated to celebrate once a year. One is met with fanfare and empty gestures, the other with indifference and sarcasm. But hey, at least we get some good memes out of it.