The moment of orgasm is a wonderful thing.
But we feel that the tacky down-market and frankly 'sordid' marketing profile it receives does the entire subject a disservice.
At Poor Attitude we ( I don't know why I'm using the royal 'we' - there's only me here!) would like to suggest the following periodicals and products:
"Oh I say!" magazine
"County Climax" (for lady's what come)
"YeeHa! - The best orgasm album in the world EVER! (vol2)" CD
OOO-R radio station (24 hour brodcasting to help you break a sweat)
"Now that's what I call 'coming' " CD
"Multiple Orgasm!" Christmas box set.
And for the nostalgia market: "Classic emission" Old, crackly and in black and white.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
NanoWrimo
Well that's it - I've registered with Nannowrimo (National Novel Writing Month) and am now looking forward to November being dominated by my nose being thrust to the literary grindstone. It nearly killed me last time - so why am I doing it again? Well, as I said on a previous post, I've had this lightweight, comedy novel floating around in my head and I think Nano' will give me a good kick start on it (or kill it off completely). What I need to do before Nov is to put some serious thought to outlining the structure. Last time it was all done on the fly rather and left me often not having a clue what I was writing towards! Eeek.
I will be getting stuck into 'copywrite', my software of choice. In fact, no more procrastination - let's go there now!
I will be getting stuck into 'copywrite', my software of choice. In fact, no more procrastination - let's go there now!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Boyhood Part1.
Boyhood.
In the army 'Basic Training' is the official nomaclature for that ball-breaking, spirit-crushing, bone-shattering, personality-erasing, psychological abyss of approx 6 weeks into which new recruits are cast down from the airy mountaintop of their hereto normal civilian existence.
If you accept that a grown man is basically a warrior maneuvering through an essentially unfriendly, nay hostile world, then boyhood is Basic Training.
Once you get that - then everything else makes sense.
The military process is a 'wake-up' call wherein the bright, shiny, freshly scrubbed recruits, hope in their hearts, and eyes brimming with visions of hollywood-style military heroics, are taken (not always metaphorically) by the scruff of the neck and are forced headfirst into the bloody sewage strewn evil of warfare while being buttfucked repeatedly by sadomasochistic Sargeant-Major called McKwolski and then having to shout 'Sir-Yes Sir!' when asked if they are a worthless piece of excreta not fit to wear the (rather shabby and dated) uniform.
Think of that image.... hold it there in your mind.
Now transfer it to that tiny, bright, shiny, freshly scrubbed sweet baby boy. He is warm, content, fussed over, loved, cosseted, bathed in fragrant waters, wrapped in warm blankets, allowed to sleep away his days and is fed on demand by two plump boobs each one bigger than his whole head. To quote legendary gangster Henry Hill "These were the good times".
Nature, mother nature, evolution or (if your that way inclined) God, looks at this helpless pink soft blob of a child and, when patience runs out he rubs his hands together in glee says, 'party's over little chap - time to toughen up'.
Yes indeed - boyhood is the wake-up call, and quite rightly too. Life, even with all its myriad pleasures, is a sharp, hard pointy thing that cuts, bumps and scratches. The small fluffy pink newt that is the baby boy is not going to survive the world in that state unless stored in a plastic bubble or he happens across a willing carer who is happy to still be changing his diapers when he's in middle age. (That almost never happens)
In contemporary western society life may often be a sharp cutting thing, but it is as nothing, and I mean NOTHING, in comparison to what every little boys' million antecedent fathers have had to face.
When, aeons ago, the earth cooled, the first representative of humankind dragged itself from the primeval slime and, dusting off the debris from its emaciated form, looked nervously about at the lush new world and contemplated "I wonder if it's safe?"
A second later, as the thought still hung in the air, a rock hit humankind in the side of the head, then a snake bit into its leg, then two bears, a sabre-tooth tiger and a pack of very hungry hyenas piled in to finish off the job. When they were all done, some manky vultures cleaned the bones and then ants did a final polish before carrying them down to the primeval swamp and chucking them back with a contempteous snort of 'You'll have to do better than that.'
The gauntlet had been thrown down. Nature took another look at its creation and thought, 'well its good - but it needs to a fucking sight tougher if it's going to survive'.
This was basically a case of going back to the design studio and having to have a bit of a head to head with the prima-donnas there who believed in style over all other considerations.
Now (if you're still interested or even awake) look at the post called "the Creation of Man: Nature's Design Studio".
In the army 'Basic Training' is the official nomaclature for that ball-breaking, spirit-crushing, bone-shattering, personality-erasing, psychological abyss of approx 6 weeks into which new recruits are cast down from the airy mountaintop of their hereto normal civilian existence.
If you accept that a grown man is basically a warrior maneuvering through an essentially unfriendly, nay hostile world, then boyhood is Basic Training.
Once you get that - then everything else makes sense.
The military process is a 'wake-up' call wherein the bright, shiny, freshly scrubbed recruits, hope in their hearts, and eyes brimming with visions of hollywood-style military heroics, are taken (not always metaphorically) by the scruff of the neck and are forced headfirst into the bloody sewage strewn evil of warfare while being buttfucked repeatedly by sadomasochistic Sargeant-Major called McKwolski and then having to shout 'Sir-Yes Sir!' when asked if they are a worthless piece of excreta not fit to wear the (rather shabby and dated) uniform.
Think of that image.... hold it there in your mind.
Now transfer it to that tiny, bright, shiny, freshly scrubbed sweet baby boy. He is warm, content, fussed over, loved, cosseted, bathed in fragrant waters, wrapped in warm blankets, allowed to sleep away his days and is fed on demand by two plump boobs each one bigger than his whole head. To quote legendary gangster Henry Hill "These were the good times".
Nature, mother nature, evolution or (if your that way inclined) God, looks at this helpless pink soft blob of a child and, when patience runs out he rubs his hands together in glee says, 'party's over little chap - time to toughen up'.
Yes indeed - boyhood is the wake-up call, and quite rightly too. Life, even with all its myriad pleasures, is a sharp, hard pointy thing that cuts, bumps and scratches. The small fluffy pink newt that is the baby boy is not going to survive the world in that state unless stored in a plastic bubble or he happens across a willing carer who is happy to still be changing his diapers when he's in middle age. (That almost never happens)
In contemporary western society life may often be a sharp cutting thing, but it is as nothing, and I mean NOTHING, in comparison to what every little boys' million antecedent fathers have had to face.
When, aeons ago, the earth cooled, the first representative of humankind dragged itself from the primeval slime and, dusting off the debris from its emaciated form, looked nervously about at the lush new world and contemplated "I wonder if it's safe?"
A second later, as the thought still hung in the air, a rock hit humankind in the side of the head, then a snake bit into its leg, then two bears, a sabre-tooth tiger and a pack of very hungry hyenas piled in to finish off the job. When they were all done, some manky vultures cleaned the bones and then ants did a final polish before carrying them down to the primeval swamp and chucking them back with a contempteous snort of 'You'll have to do better than that.'
The gauntlet had been thrown down. Nature took another look at its creation and thought, 'well its good - but it needs to a fucking sight tougher if it's going to survive'.
This was basically a case of going back to the design studio and having to have a bit of a head to head with the prima-donnas there who believed in style over all other considerations.
Now (if you're still interested or even awake) look at the post called "the Creation of Man: Nature's Design Studio".
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
BBC Breakfast vs GMTV
It's 7.35 am (approx - ie within an hour or so) I'm forcing down my marmite and peanut butter toast with a gargantuan sized mug of finest assam.
BBC Breakfast show (sadly sans Sophie) (but thankfully featuring Kate) blabs away about a new Basra located carnage. Repoters 'on the scene' frown into my eyes before diplomats and middle east experts expound learned analysis of the 'spiralling' situation. Politicians and spokespersons assail my senses.
I can take no more. In quiet desperation I switch the tv over to GMTV.
Suddenly I am assaulted by a positively 'day-glo' studio set where someone called Jade, two footballers I've never heard of and a fat family with crying baby on a sofa are bleating on about a 'reality' tv show I never WANT to hear of, let alone watch.
"Now the news" they announce.
"Posh and Beck's wowed the crowds last night at...blah blah blah"
Then "the nation holds its breath for tonight's episode of Coronation St".
Then "RnB superstar R Kelly visits the UK tomorrow - he's joining us on the sofa at GMTV" etc.
Blah blah Blah, Oh yeah - something about 'Iraq' they briefly mention.
Then "Sports news"
Apparently I'm the only person in the UK not anxiously awaiting the 'Euro/winners/premier/semi/tiebreak/cup-winners/re-match/final/league/climax between 'Sporting Athletico Cantata AC Madromo' and Millwall. (live on ITV for 16 hours this evening)
My ears are beginning to bleed and something unpleasant is happening to my few remaining brain cells.
I switch back over to BBC.
More carnage - fear - starvation and endless refugees.
I swallow my last piece of (now cold) marmite toast.
Ahhhh - that's better.
BBC Breakfast show (sadly sans Sophie) (but thankfully featuring Kate) blabs away about a new Basra located carnage. Repoters 'on the scene' frown into my eyes before diplomats and middle east experts expound learned analysis of the 'spiralling' situation. Politicians and spokespersons assail my senses.
I can take no more. In quiet desperation I switch the tv over to GMTV.
Suddenly I am assaulted by a positively 'day-glo' studio set where someone called Jade, two footballers I've never heard of and a fat family with crying baby on a sofa are bleating on about a 'reality' tv show I never WANT to hear of, let alone watch.
"Now the news" they announce.
"Posh and Beck's wowed the crowds last night at...blah blah blah"
Then "the nation holds its breath for tonight's episode of Coronation St".
Then "RnB superstar R Kelly visits the UK tomorrow - he's joining us on the sofa at GMTV" etc.
Blah blah Blah, Oh yeah - something about 'Iraq' they briefly mention.
Then "Sports news"
Apparently I'm the only person in the UK not anxiously awaiting the 'Euro/winners/premier/semi/tiebreak/cup-winners/re-match/final/league/climax between 'Sporting Athletico Cantata AC Madromo' and Millwall. (live on ITV for 16 hours this evening)
My ears are beginning to bleed and something unpleasant is happening to my few remaining brain cells.
I switch back over to BBC.
More carnage - fear - starvation and endless refugees.
I swallow my last piece of (now cold) marmite toast.
Ahhhh - that's better.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Quack me
A friend sent me this, which she found on the net. Don't have any reference for its creator though.
“I have this problem that no-one takes seriously. I can't help it, it started when I was a kid. But I like going to parks and touching the ducks.
But in November a park keeper caught me fiddling with one, and called the police. I had to lie and say I was rescuing it from drowning. They didn't believe me, I could tell, but they couldn't arrest me because it wasn't a crime. Anyway, some bastard told the local press, and I was in the paper. There was no picture but my name was in the same sentence as 'duck molesting.'
I'm so embarrassed, I'm going to lose my job because I'm a vet. Once, someone bought a duck in that had been attacked by a dog. I asked everyone to leave the room so as not to shock it. Really I just wanted to touch it. It died not long after.
Anyway, I saw a shrink and told him but he laughed. He asked me why ducks? I said because they had chubby cheeks and looked cute. Also they are slippery when wet. I like that. I like squirrels too, but I've never tried to fiddle with one. I might soon if I don't get help.”
Lionel 28, Nottingham
“I have this problem that no-one takes seriously. I can't help it, it started when I was a kid. But I like going to parks and touching the ducks.
But in November a park keeper caught me fiddling with one, and called the police. I had to lie and say I was rescuing it from drowning. They didn't believe me, I could tell, but they couldn't arrest me because it wasn't a crime. Anyway, some bastard told the local press, and I was in the paper. There was no picture but my name was in the same sentence as 'duck molesting.'
I'm so embarrassed, I'm going to lose my job because I'm a vet. Once, someone bought a duck in that had been attacked by a dog. I asked everyone to leave the room so as not to shock it. Really I just wanted to touch it. It died not long after.
Anyway, I saw a shrink and told him but he laughed. He asked me why ducks? I said because they had chubby cheeks and looked cute. Also they are slippery when wet. I like that. I like squirrels too, but I've never tried to fiddle with one. I might soon if I don't get help.”
Lionel 28, Nottingham
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
The Creation of Man - Nature's Design Studio
When, aeons ago, the earth cooled, the first representative of humankind dragged itself from the primeval slime and, dusting off the debris from its emaciated form, looked nervously about at the lush new world and contemplated "I wonder if it's safe?"
A second later, as the thought still hung in the air, a rock hit humankind in the side of the head, then a snake bit into its leg, then two bears, a sabre-tooth tiger and a pack of very hungry hyenas piled in to finish off the job. When they were all done, some manky vultures cleaned the bones and then ants did a final polish before carrying them down to the primeval swamp and chucking them back with a contempteous snort of 'You'll have to do better than that.'
The gauntlet had been thrown down. Nature took another look at its creation and thought, 'well its good - but it needs to a fucking sight tougher if it's going to survive'.
This was basically a case of 'Nature' going back to the design studio and having to have a bit of a head to head with the prima-donnas at the 'Pixel face' there who believed in style over all other considerations.
The Scene: Metaphysical dream-like environment wherein sits the rather improbable fixtures and fittings of a design studio. There are assorted desks, workstations, flip charts, brightly coloured marker pens and a cluster of stylish apple Macs of various ages including a 'classic' that has been converted into a fish tank.
The walls are decorated with large CGI posters of: 1. a mountain, 2. a giant redwood, 3. a blue whale, 4. a hedgehog. The Hedgehog poster has yellow post it notes stuck on it with office 'in-joke' comments on them such as 'Do you feel like a prick?' and 'Kev's new girlfriend!'.
There are four designers (of indeterminate shape/form/origin and will be known as W,X,Y and Z) working quietly at their screens. One, that appears to be designing a haddock, is nodding rhythmically to the 'tzz tzz tzz' sound eminating from its little white headphones.
The (metaphysical) door opens and Nature enters, clutching a battered roll of papers and some polaroids.
Nature looks rather grim.
The designers exchange glances.
N: Okay everyone - gather round - we've got a problem with Humankind.
One of the designers in particular (we'll call x) looks despairingly down. The others look slightly relieved. They all gather round a big table where Nature has spread out the polaroids.
X looks at the images. "Oh shit!"
W: Fuck
Y: Hmm
Z: Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
Nature: Yes - not pretty is it?
X: When did this happen?
Nature: Just this morning
X: Shit.
W: What did it?
Nature: Just about everything.
Y: what like?
Nature: Birds, tigers, dogs, snakes, some rocks..
x: Shit
Nature: Even the ants had a go.
X: You're kidding
Nature: I'm not.
X glances suspiciously at Y.
Y: Hey don't blame me - I made 'em tiny. Just eat leaves and stuff.
Z: What a mess, what a mess, what a mess.
W: what's all that stuff poured out on the...
Nature: Its insides I think.
X: Shit
They are all quite for a moment in contemplation then Z (who seems like the most senior) looks at X and says
Z: So what have you got to say X?
X metaphorically scratches its chin and thinks quietly for a good half a minute.
X: I think you might have used it out of context
Nature(outraged): I bloody well did not I..
X: It answered the brief perfec..
Nature: Its supposed to be able to survi..
X: Did you skimp on materials..
Nature is affronted and gasps
Y: There's bugger all camoflage...
They all dive in with comments and opinions and there is general disarray for a while. Finally Z calms them all and smoothing out the blueprints on the table begins to examine the designs point by point.
Z: Okay Nature, where do you think we need some improvem.. (he stops himself with a glance in Xs general direction) ..some amendments to the current model.
X has arms crossed and a sulky look.
Nature: Well look at its hips?
X: What about them?
Nature: They're too wide - it can't run fast enough.
X: They've got to be that wide.
Nature sacastically: And why have they (making imaginary speech marks in the air) "Got to" be that wide?
X: (with sneering smugness) Because it need to be able to(speech marks in return) " carry its babies " without "shattering its pelvis"
X crossing arms again and looks smug.
Nature: Oh (disappointed).
Z: Well what about giving it a real killer instinct, some aggression?
Nature (hopefull): Yes, yes - how about 'maxing-out' its blood lust?
X: Do you really think a pathological killer with an anger management problem will make for an ideal parent. Do you want the propagation of the species resting in the hands of a blood crazed looney? As a professional designer I would have to advise you to take a look at the case of the Male Lion experiment a few months ago!
W looks suddenly sheepish and walks back off to his workstation muttering.
Nature: Hmm yes.
Z: That was a disaster. It actually ate them - eurghhh. Who saw that coming?
Y: Right - I was nearly sick
X: right.
Nature: Hmmm.
Nature and Z stare at the blueprints some more.
Nature points at some detail...
Nature: What about those?(waving his finger at the drawings) Does it need those things bouncing around getting in the way?
X and Z both shake their heads in a little exsaspperation
X: YES IT BLOODY WELL DOES!
Z leans across to Nature and whispers into its ear.
Nature (after a moments embarassment): Oh I see, quite, quite. Hmmm.
They all stand in silent contemplation again.
Nature: Well could we give it really strong arms and fists that could really swing a sledgehammer or axe?
X: You're missing the point. This has been designed for delicacy and control, long term planning, compassion and nurturing spirit. If you start trying to hybridize it, it'll just end up doing nothing very well.
Z: You see Nature, it's always possible to combine, say... a coffee machine with, say.... a bicycle. But what do you end up with?
Y: Expresso Esspresso? (sniggering)
W (shouts from his desk): a very quick Latte?
Z: Shut it you two. No, you just end up with too many compromises.
X: The whole original concept just gets fucked.
Nature: Elegantly put X.
X: Yeah well...
Nature: So what are you suggesting?
Z: I think we'd do better adding a partner model to the range.
Nature: (warming to the idea) A pair? - I see.
X: It's worked before.
Nature: Right (beginning to enthuse)
Z: Those little creatures Y designed last year were useless until we got them paired. What were they called?
X: Can't remember.
Y: Lemmings
Nature: So we could have like a 'B'-spec' model to go alongside this one?
Z: That's right.
Nature: Just strip out all the higher motives and drives?
X: easily done
Z: And then plug in..
Nature: Aggression
X: Ambition
Z: sneakyness
Nature: Physical Strength!
X: Craft and building skills!
Z: Bravery to the point of...
Nature: Over confidence
Z: Gross stupidity I was going to say.
Y: But why?
Z: Have you seen some of the creatures and obstacles it's going to have to confront just to survive?
Y: Good point
Nature: Limited needs is going to be important..
Z: Yeah - just food and warmth
Nature: Yes - stick to just those, we don't want to confuse it with too many drives.
X: Sounds great - can't wait to get started.
Nature: What we going to call it?
Z: What's the 'A-Spec' model called?
X: I called it 'Woman'
Nature: Hmmm - okay. Lets call this version just, er... 'Wo'?
X: Or just 'Man'
Z: Brilliant!
X: I like it.
They all look pleased with themselves.
Nature: I need it asap.
X (all chirpy now): Will do Boss.
Z(thoughtfully): Just one point though - could be a problem.
Nature: What's that?
Z: What's to stop 'Man' just marching off into the wilds just looking after itself and not sticking around looking after...'woman'?
X: Shit, yeah.
Nature: Bugger.
They all look depressed again. There is much head scratching.
Nature: What we need is a good reason why Man would want to stay close to Woman.
Z: Apart from to eat her of course
Nature: Exactly.
Z: Hmm.
Nature: Hmmm
Z: Hmmmmmm.
Nature: Something that Woman has got...?
Z: That Man wants?
X: Something that ONLY Woman has got.
Nature: That Man wants enough to stay around for the long term.
Z: And won't eat her
X: or the kids
Z: Right.
Nature: That she's happy to supply.
X: Within reason
Nature: right.
Z: But no matter how much he gets..
X: He'll always be hoping for more...
Nature: Hmmmmm. What could it be?
There is much head scratching and furrowed brows.
X: Hmmmmmmm
Z: Hmmmmmmmmm
Nature:Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
They all stand deep in thought for what seems like an age.
X (brightly): Oooo I know!
END
And so the rough-hewn troglodyte that is Man stumbled, blinking into the world.
A second later, as the thought still hung in the air, a rock hit humankind in the side of the head, then a snake bit into its leg, then two bears, a sabre-tooth tiger and a pack of very hungry hyenas piled in to finish off the job. When they were all done, some manky vultures cleaned the bones and then ants did a final polish before carrying them down to the primeval swamp and chucking them back with a contempteous snort of 'You'll have to do better than that.'
The gauntlet had been thrown down. Nature took another look at its creation and thought, 'well its good - but it needs to a fucking sight tougher if it's going to survive'.
This was basically a case of 'Nature' going back to the design studio and having to have a bit of a head to head with the prima-donnas at the 'Pixel face' there who believed in style over all other considerations.
The Scene: Metaphysical dream-like environment wherein sits the rather improbable fixtures and fittings of a design studio. There are assorted desks, workstations, flip charts, brightly coloured marker pens and a cluster of stylish apple Macs of various ages including a 'classic' that has been converted into a fish tank.
The walls are decorated with large CGI posters of: 1. a mountain, 2. a giant redwood, 3. a blue whale, 4. a hedgehog. The Hedgehog poster has yellow post it notes stuck on it with office 'in-joke' comments on them such as 'Do you feel like a prick?' and 'Kev's new girlfriend!'.
There are four designers (of indeterminate shape/form/origin and will be known as W,X,Y and Z) working quietly at their screens. One, that appears to be designing a haddock, is nodding rhythmically to the 'tzz tzz tzz' sound eminating from its little white headphones.
The (metaphysical) door opens and Nature enters, clutching a battered roll of papers and some polaroids.
Nature looks rather grim.
The designers exchange glances.
N: Okay everyone - gather round - we've got a problem with Humankind.
One of the designers in particular (we'll call x) looks despairingly down. The others look slightly relieved. They all gather round a big table where Nature has spread out the polaroids.
X looks at the images. "Oh shit!"
W: Fuck
Y: Hmm
Z: Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
Nature: Yes - not pretty is it?
X: When did this happen?
Nature: Just this morning
X: Shit.
W: What did it?
Nature: Just about everything.
Y: what like?
Nature: Birds, tigers, dogs, snakes, some rocks..
x: Shit
Nature: Even the ants had a go.
X: You're kidding
Nature: I'm not.
X glances suspiciously at Y.
Y: Hey don't blame me - I made 'em tiny. Just eat leaves and stuff.
Z: What a mess, what a mess, what a mess.
W: what's all that stuff poured out on the...
Nature: Its insides I think.
X: Shit
They are all quite for a moment in contemplation then Z (who seems like the most senior) looks at X and says
Z: So what have you got to say X?
X metaphorically scratches its chin and thinks quietly for a good half a minute.
X: I think you might have used it out of context
Nature(outraged): I bloody well did not I..
X: It answered the brief perfec..
Nature: Its supposed to be able to survi..
X: Did you skimp on materials..
Nature is affronted and gasps
Y: There's bugger all camoflage...
They all dive in with comments and opinions and there is general disarray for a while. Finally Z calms them all and smoothing out the blueprints on the table begins to examine the designs point by point.
Z: Okay Nature, where do you think we need some improvem.. (he stops himself with a glance in Xs general direction) ..some amendments to the current model.
X has arms crossed and a sulky look.
Nature: Well look at its hips?
X: What about them?
Nature: They're too wide - it can't run fast enough.
X: They've got to be that wide.
Nature sacastically: And why have they (making imaginary speech marks in the air) "Got to" be that wide?
X: (with sneering smugness) Because it need to be able to(speech marks in return) " carry its babies " without "shattering its pelvis"
X crossing arms again and looks smug.
Nature: Oh (disappointed).
Z: Well what about giving it a real killer instinct, some aggression?
Nature (hopefull): Yes, yes - how about 'maxing-out' its blood lust?
X: Do you really think a pathological killer with an anger management problem will make for an ideal parent. Do you want the propagation of the species resting in the hands of a blood crazed looney? As a professional designer I would have to advise you to take a look at the case of the Male Lion experiment a few months ago!
W looks suddenly sheepish and walks back off to his workstation muttering.
Nature: Hmm yes.
Z: That was a disaster. It actually ate them - eurghhh. Who saw that coming?
Y: Right - I was nearly sick
X: right.
Nature: Hmmm.
Nature and Z stare at the blueprints some more.
Nature points at some detail...
Nature: What about those?(waving his finger at the drawings) Does it need those things bouncing around getting in the way?
X and Z both shake their heads in a little exsaspperation
X: YES IT BLOODY WELL DOES!
Z leans across to Nature and whispers into its ear.
Nature (after a moments embarassment): Oh I see, quite, quite. Hmmm.
They all stand in silent contemplation again.
Nature: Well could we give it really strong arms and fists that could really swing a sledgehammer or axe?
X: You're missing the point. This has been designed for delicacy and control, long term planning, compassion and nurturing spirit. If you start trying to hybridize it, it'll just end up doing nothing very well.
Z: You see Nature, it's always possible to combine, say... a coffee machine with, say.... a bicycle. But what do you end up with?
Y: Expresso Esspresso? (sniggering)
W (shouts from his desk): a very quick Latte?
Z: Shut it you two. No, you just end up with too many compromises.
X: The whole original concept just gets fucked.
Nature: Elegantly put X.
X: Yeah well...
Nature: So what are you suggesting?
Z: I think we'd do better adding a partner model to the range.
Nature: (warming to the idea) A pair? - I see.
X: It's worked before.
Nature: Right (beginning to enthuse)
Z: Those little creatures Y designed last year were useless until we got them paired. What were they called?
X: Can't remember.
Y: Lemmings
Nature: So we could have like a 'B'-spec' model to go alongside this one?
Z: That's right.
Nature: Just strip out all the higher motives and drives?
X: easily done
Z: And then plug in..
Nature: Aggression
X: Ambition
Z: sneakyness
Nature: Physical Strength!
X: Craft and building skills!
Z: Bravery to the point of...
Nature: Over confidence
Z: Gross stupidity I was going to say.
Y: But why?
Z: Have you seen some of the creatures and obstacles it's going to have to confront just to survive?
Y: Good point
Nature: Limited needs is going to be important..
Z: Yeah - just food and warmth
Nature: Yes - stick to just those, we don't want to confuse it with too many drives.
X: Sounds great - can't wait to get started.
Nature: What we going to call it?
Z: What's the 'A-Spec' model called?
X: I called it 'Woman'
Nature: Hmmm - okay. Lets call this version just, er... 'Wo'?
X: Or just 'Man'
Z: Brilliant!
X: I like it.
They all look pleased with themselves.
Nature: I need it asap.
X (all chirpy now): Will do Boss.
Z(thoughtfully): Just one point though - could be a problem.
Nature: What's that?
Z: What's to stop 'Man' just marching off into the wilds just looking after itself and not sticking around looking after...'woman'?
X: Shit, yeah.
Nature: Bugger.
They all look depressed again. There is much head scratching.
Nature: What we need is a good reason why Man would want to stay close to Woman.
Z: Apart from to eat her of course
Nature: Exactly.
Z: Hmm.
Nature: Hmmm
Z: Hmmmmmm.
Nature: Something that Woman has got...?
Z: That Man wants?
X: Something that ONLY Woman has got.
Nature: That Man wants enough to stay around for the long term.
Z: And won't eat her
X: or the kids
Z: Right.
Nature: That she's happy to supply.
X: Within reason
Nature: right.
Z: But no matter how much he gets..
X: He'll always be hoping for more...
Nature: Hmmmmm. What could it be?
There is much head scratching and furrowed brows.
X: Hmmmmmmm
Z: Hmmmmmmmmm
Nature:Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
They all stand deep in thought for what seems like an age.
X (brightly): Oooo I know!
END
And so the rough-hewn troglodyte that is Man stumbled, blinking into the world.
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