Your Rock Is Paradise Plastic

Kathryn J. Lopez has been asking male Corner readers to write in to describe how they are "rocks" -- or at least how they aspire to become "rocks" at some point in the future, once they are done being pebbles. It is all to do with a Web Site billing itself as "The Art of Manliness," which is a Web Site where men go to read about manly things, like ocean voyages and fist-fighting grizzly bears and using deoderant and Turkish prison survival strategies ("The best way to test your breath is to ask your spouse or a friend for their feedback. If no one is around, try scraping a bit of scum from the back of your tongue with your fingernail, placing it on the back of your hand, and then smelling it"... wait, that's from the Manly Men Use Deoderant link, my mistake).

Anyway Miz Lopez approvingly passes on this particular bit of advice about how men can act like rocks more convincingly:

In ancient societies men were the watchmen to protect their families from being eaten, taken by competing tribes, and other dangers. They provided a realm of safety where their family could let down their guard knowing that the man would not let his down and they would be safe. Being the rock means being the protector, the watchman, the provider. Today our loved ones rely on us to provide a safe realm where they can allow themselves to let their guard down emotionally and physically. They know they can break down emotionally and we’ll still be there standing strong. They know we will get up in the middle of the night with a baseball bat and check that noise they heard downstairs. They know that you will not belittle them like their peers at school, work, church, etc. Being the rock means providing a place where they can find love, understanding, emotional safety, physical safety, and acceptance. Be the man. Be the rock.

Hmm. I do not claim any particular expertise in this area, as I never seriously studied the Earth Sciences. But it is my general impression that rocks are not very good at swinging baseball bats. Look at, say, Jason Varitek. (Insert gleeful comedy noise here.)

But some of the advice does seem reasonable. Who can possibly deny that if you are a Man, you must, by obligation of penis-possession, take on the job of drinking coffee all night so you can stay up until dawn tightly gripping sporting equipment in case Ostrogoths or similar show up in the wee hours to make unreasonable demands of your Own Private Vatican, such as for instance that they want to fuck your wife? (Tell them NO!) Also, Men Who Are Rocks don't get all sarcastic with their ladyfolk by pointing out that they dress like WHORES, as all their bitch friends at church are so fond of observing. Rocks are Gallant: rocks are not Goofus! And this is also pretty good:

When your wife is suffering some kind of ailment, research all about it online and come up with some remedies she can try. If she’s having trouble making a decision, sit with her and come up with a pro and con chart.

MARY. Urk!

JACK. Mary! My sweet, my love! I have been researching your ailment online...

MARY. Urk...?

JACK. Is there anything you would like me to tell you... about Midol? I have here -- oh dear heart! -- a list of frequently asked questions...

MARY. URK! URK!

JACK. And, turtledove, that is not all! In order to help you come to a decision as to whether or not this remedy is right for you, lambkins, I have taken the time to draw up a "pro and con chart" that we might now examine. (Chuckles) I suppose we might call it a -- (chuckles again) -- flow chart!

MARY. URRRRRK!

Don't worry -- Jack survives. He is, after all, a rock, and thus can be repeatedly bludgeoned with a baseball bat or a similar blunt instrument and yet withstand permanent debilitating injury.

But it's one of K-Lo's email rock correspondents who sums it up best:

No, you don't hear much or anything along those lines today.  Certainly not in the media or in popular culture.  Pop culture glorifies the metrosexual, self-involved, overly-sensitive guys who have "man-caves" and get "man-crushes" and such.

 

But, for those of us who try to live as the rock, it's not for us to boast about doing our duty.  We simply do it.  To talk much about it would be glory-seeking, which is kinda the opposite of the point.

 

Maybe you should ask our wives instead.

Maybe!

I like this ersatz nostalgia for the time when Men Were Manly, since it's so wonderfully confused. "Metrosexual" is a lament about men today acting effeminate; "man-cave" is a lament about men today acting like beer commercial stereotypes. Presumably, though, Real Manliness is a state of grace from which we have fallen -- the 1950s, maybe, when gender roles were SETTLED GOD FUCKING DAMMIT! Of course this was also a time when women were powerfully discouraged from going into higher education and the various professions... SHUT UP FAIRY GOD-MOTHERFUCKER! DAMMIT! Or maybe there is more ideological farting around here than there is a mature grappling with historical realities. It's just barely possible.

Look, where that "Manliness" site offers some good advice -- and some of it is good advice -- it's because they're giving reasonable recommendations about how to be a good person. Or else they're just giving handy outdoorsy tips -- but then, my point is, what the fuck is so essentially "manly" about building campfires?

I suppose this class of stuff is all right if it encourages someone to accept the argument that you shouldn't act like a jackass because acting like a jackass violates the Manly Code, but with my own kids I'm just going to skip a step and try to teach them not to act like jackasses, however they perceive their Gender Roles in the Brave New World That's A-Borning. Hell, they can even act like rocks if they like, though most of the people who get into that "Man Be a Rock" shit -- to me, anyway -- come across like self-absorbed, self-flattering, pompous, judgmental shits. But hey, they seem to be having fun, God bless 'em.