Sunday, November 22, 2009
The Clande culture
Move over clutch bag and sexy peep toes.
Clandes are all the rage now (that stupid Mohawk hair style is a close second). Even our local FM radio stations are cashing in on it sounding a touch like hawkers bellowing "Ni ya leo!...Bei ya jioni ni ya leo!". If you're married and not doing it, you're not with it. It's the quick fix 'solution' to every marital problem. Why get off your arse & try to make it work when you can simply slap the clande band aid over those pesky relationship flaws & wounds?
She drools when sleeping? Get a clande...
He's gotten pudgy, sloppy & snores in bed? Get a clande...
He's become a broke arse & she doesn't look as hot? What you waiting for? Get a clande!
Your partner's gotten side tracked with the routine that is life? Get a clande...
Aaaand the circus continues to thrill & amaze with lots of clowns enthusiastically jumping in...
Clandes are not just about falling into temptation. Nope, take it a notch down; clandes are all about careful planning & allocating resources as you perfect the art of deceit on someone who's supposed to have your back; A 'loved' one. (I'd love to see what they do to enemies). It's that selfish, calculated and below the belt.
I'm thinking maybe, just maybe, if true-blue friendship was a mandatory requirement in marriage, then maybe it would make a difference in the statistics. Perhaps as friends, maybe one would care enough to try to make it work, and the respect you have for each other would make you pause as you contemplate putting your foot over that line and you'd have the comfort of knowing, even if it doesn't work, you gave it your best shot...but how practical would friendship be when:
Many women believe a man= security, the fear of being alone haunts the dreams of many, marriage is perceived to= status, we live in a society where the worth of a woman is not that much, and where some women do not see themselves as complete if their name is not preceded with a Mrs...
Then again, what would this girl know when she's merely on the outside, looking in?
Here's some food for thought in the form of a poem by Charles Bukowski
Alone with everybody:
The flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind in there
and sometimes a soul,
and the women break vases against the walls,
and the men drink too much.
and nobody finds the one but keep looking
crawling in and out of beds.
Flesh covers the bone
and the flesh searches for more than flesh
There's no chance at all:
we are all trapped by a singular fate.
Nobody ever finds the one.
The city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the grave yards fill
Nothing else fills
Have a fab week, beautiful people.
PS: speaking of things in fashion this season; I'm i seeing my own things, or is there an unusually large number of pregnant young women in town? Hell, you wouldn't even know there's a recession on. Why get Manolos & Jimmy Choos when you can simply get a baby right?