Remember way back when I said I do requests…well I do…Don’t worry this wont be about sex back when I was in Creative Writing class the teacher said to only write about what you know…

Okay boys and girls Quiz Time don’t worry there is only one question.

What single piece of equipment does the Flyosopher have that enables him to honestly compete for the title of World’s Greatest Fly Fisherman? (Trick question the Flyosopher doesn’t honestly compete for any title he just self-proclaims himself to be various things, mostly things other people would never want to be.)

Is it:

A.   An extensive collection of fly rod

B.   An obsessive assortment of flies

C.   “Koiko” the awesomest truck ever – your truck sucks by the way don’t deny you felt a twinge of resentment possibly disbelief when you read that my truck is awesomest (For you grammarians who think “most awesome” is the correct phraseology I would agree with you if we are talking of a Pre-Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure world, today “most awesome” is a state of being not merely a comparative.

D.    An extensive library of fly fishing literature

E.     His Birth-Control Hat

If you answered D. Then you probably read the blog regularly and understand my love and appreciation for knowledge and learning.  Unfortunately, you have over-looked my love and appreciation for over-involved introductions that have little to nothing to do with the final point of the article.  Honestly this is more my fault than yours, but still, you are wrong.

A and B are helpful but over-kill at best, massively over-compensating at worst.

The answer is my Birth-Control Hat…a hat so ugly…no woman is so desperate, no man so charming that pro-creation can take place while one or both parties is wearing it.

I submit the following for those of you good at the maths.

Let F(L) be a function of getting laid where C = Charm Quotient  D = Desperation of the intended victim and H = the repulsive power of the hat

F(L) = C(C + D)/ H

As we all know a finite number divided by an infinite number always equals ZERO.

Run that by any scientist, banker, guy in a lab coat, or screaming piss-stained subway patron and they will all agree.

The Birth-control Hat ensures that the only anchor I have is the one that secures my kayak.  Or as I like to call it…The Price of Freedom, and freedom isn’t free.  Keeping the ladies away from a slab of Grade A American Beefcake like myself is a trying endeavor.

I used to get by on pure ugliness, lack of charm and class, no real personality or social skills but unfortunately – and I place the blame SQUARELY on you the reader – the economics of society has changed.  That’s deep…

Okay I lied I have a second question for you.

What has more intrinsic value: A beautiful woman or a Real Man?

It is a tougher question than it looks.  A beautiful woman is like a rare gem; very nice to look at, welcome almost anywhere, brightens the darkest of days, but when you get right down to it…honestly serves no practical use.  Sounds misogynistic – probably is – but we are only talking about the beauty aspect, and for this aspect I think the gem analogy is a good one.

Pretend this was the Iron Age – I would have given myself the title GAWD of THUNDAAAR (as an aside I actually do bellow this from time to time in my day to day life.  Most people look at me a bit disturbed slightly perturbed and afraid, but my cousins kids laugh and root me on…) Now lets say there is a huge diamond laying on the ground next to a really nice oak tree.  Clearly the oak tree has more practical value, it can be burnt or made into something useful like a house or a boat – but the world is full of trees (less now than in the Iron Age – but we’ll get back to that.) The diamond is rare, perhaps one of a kind.  For that reason, rarity, and that reason alone it has value.

This is nothing new, just simple economics.

Now consider a Real Man, and we probably need to define the term.  Despite all the outrageous claims I have made in the past, and will make in the future, I consider a REAL MAN by one variable – strength.  This is not the kind of strength simply measured by bench pressing or the caber toss, (although don’t kid yourself pick something up that the weaker-sexed object of your affection can’t definitely improves your chances) this strength is the quality that when something happens – it gets handled.  Real Men don’t whine or bitch or complain in lieu of necessary action.  This strength is strength of character.  When the hot water heater craps out – it gets fixed.  If some stupid kid gets hurt – it gets fixed.  Some waste acts a fool – it gets fixed.  Maybe you need to hire someone, call 911, or heaven forefend ask for help – the means aren’t the main issue, the results are.  A Real Man is a cause, not an effect.

Now let’s go back to the Iron Age.  If you were some feeb, you were dead or marginalized to the point you probably wished you were dead.  Nearly every male human who had lived long enough to get to adulthood was a real man – remember diarrhea death was a constant fear.  This was largely true till the 1960’s – I mean lets be honest the biggest high school wuss from the WWII generation was magically transported in time to today, he would find himself the toughest dude around.  Men were Real Men, that doesn’t mean they were all the same: some were stupid, some were clever, some were handsome, and some may have even bathed more than once a year…maybe…

Historical Aside: Most of us think of the Vikings as marauders who raped pillaged and plundered.  This is more or less true and primary source documents point to this.  However, what pissed off Christian Europe was that they were also seen as seducers.  Why? Because they bathed once a week and washed their hair…those rakes.

But they were all Real Men…and thus, like the great oak tree, that quality lost value.  The supply was high, so the demand was low.

Now skip ahead to today.

I have two friends who have to work with people ranging from 20-somethings to guys in their early 30’s.  One is a University Dean, the other works for a major company in human resources.  They both face the same challenge – what to do when a 25, 26, 27, 36 year-old shows up for an interview with one or both of his parents.  This is not a joke, they actually had to implement new training for receptionists and admissions officers who were used to fielding questions from students or job seekers and now the bulk of their contacts are with their parents.

Now I’m not saying that these individuals are spineless weaklings.  They are just spineless weaklings.  This is a function of current society, they may grow out of it, and they may not.  I really don’t care.  I’m just saying that the late-20 to early 30’s dating pool the Flyosopher finds himself in (Ya, not doing the whole cougar thing…quick what do women and babies have in common…the older they get the cuter they ain’t – see now that was a joke – and if you aren’t a woman you are probably laughing) has a lot more beautiful women than it does Real Men.

Soap, the gym, health food, liposuction are all readily available – there has never been more beautiful women on the planet than right now.  I also say – at least in this culture – there has never been fewer Real Men.

Supply is low, demand is high.

A huge pile of diamonds is worth less than a single branch of that oak tree when you are freezing to death and there isn’t a scrap of wood for miles.  It’s like the classic scene from Star Trek…or Bill and Ted’s: Bogus Journey.

“An incredible fortune in stones… yet… I… would trade… them all… for… a… hand phaser… or a… good… solid… club.”

Captain James Tiberius Kirk

Men like beauty.

Women like strength – confidence is the sales pitch for strength.  Self-effacing humor unfortunately is a sign of confidence as is general mal-temper.  Just the other day (read: once in my life I had a date) I was walking with a smart, beautiful, attractive young woman through a college town.  She is a modern woman, independent and secure.  So it surprised me when I saw some slack-jawed feeb walking towards us in a Commie Red tee-shirt with Che Guevara’s likeness on it.  The woman was talking about every woman’s favorite topic – her friends – generally everyone she ever met.

Pro Tip for ladies – CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT – if the man doesn’t know these people understand that what you say about them is ALL he knows about them.  It’s just like writing a book you have to be mindful of the reader.  If you introduce a character by describing his or her negative activity and then when your male companion remarks negatively (and logically) about this person – then you get all upset and rush to their defense…whose fault is it?  This, along with being kicked out of the Garden of Eden, is your fault clearly.  Also if you use alcohol as a viable excuse for one of your characters you are FORBIDDEN from ever not accepting it as a viable excuse for your significant other’s “issues” – trust me you don’t want to do that.  Also if a person is funny after a few drinks then they aren’t funny, the word you are looking for is “annoying” perhaps “shocking” or if they try to pants me in the men’s room the term “bleeding internally from blunt force trauma” likely applies (Now there is a good story we won’t be sharing until I’m sure the statute of limitations have passed us by.) Since you raised the subject, the Flyosopher does not believe in male/female platonic friendship.  One party is always willing to bang the other.  Think about it, say you just watched a Jem and the Holograms marathon and you are feeling unloved and you call your friend and tell him that you are feeling insecure and vulnerable and he DOESN’T rush over to have sex with you.  What kind of a friend is that…piss poor.  True friends don’t have or want to have sex with each other.  This is the reason men – as a general rule – have FAR fewer friends than women. What’s even worse? I’ll tell you. Say you claim you love some guy like a brother or he treats you like his sister, and then you turn around and he checks out your ass…that shows you are from a horrible, horrible family.  Sad really…and reflects poorly on your parents.  Fie for shame.  As for men…seriously who wants to be friends with a girl??? Unless, she has an Easy-Bake Oven, in which case you are just using her…you son of a bitch.

“A true friend is a rare gift that doesn’t want to have sex with you.  Also you shouldn’t have sex with your brother and this is coming from the Bronze Age…seriously. Yes, I’d love a Hemlock smoothie…”

Socrates or some guy in a toga – The Flyosopher is not a reliable source

Pro Tip for guys – The worst thing you can do around a woman is: listen to her.  When a woman speaks use the ancient Yoga practice of daydreaming about a cold mountain stream, if you don’t have much of an imagination look around for a TV – even if the sound is off or the View is on pretend they are making fart noises or talking about your pecs.  If there is no TV – then hey you tried who are you Superman? – feel free to ogle other women.  If your female companion gets vexed just say something like “I bet she can’t hold a conversation as well as you can.”  Occasionally look back to see if your date has stopped for a breath.  Don’t over do it, you don’t want to encourage her.  When she finishes look her in the eyes and say “Amazing.”  Don’t be specific as to what amazed you.  Seriously, every single fight I have ever had with a woman has been because I actually listened to her and was paying attention.  Never do either.  Every fight a man and a woman have falls into one of two categories.  The man listened to the woman and tried to converse with her, or worse fix her problem.  Every Pop-psychologist says the same thing.  Men try to fix problems when they should be listening.  If the man wasn’t listening at all then he would be unaware of a problem and thus not try to fix it.  Problem solved – oh wait I just killed my own point.  The second fight-worthy topic is the classic – the man was not listening.  Only one of those leads to hurt feelings and pain.  The other is mildly annoying and will garner a woman a great deal of attention and sympathy from her friends; this will ultimately make her happy.  Your choice.  One thing you really shouldn’t do is point out that the word “conversation” has its root in the Latin word for “with” which is “cum.”  Don’t say that you really want to “cum” but she won’t let you and is being very selfish.  Women, despite the whole stereotypical lust for Latin Lovers, hate Latin.

“Never fail to know that if you are doing all the talking, you are boring somebody.”

Dr. Helen Gurley Brown – She wrote Sex and the Single Girl, and invented Cosmo

So anyway…the bitch-ass punk in the Che shirt… (Bet you forgot all about him.  Here I was trying to share something with you and you aren’t even paying attention!!!! Annoying ain’t it.)

So anyway…the punk-ass bitch in the Che shirt.  I get to thinking; this feeb is in MY TOWN walking around in a mass-murderer shirt.  If he was in a Hitler shirt I’d stomp him on general principle, I’m not letting him walk passed me without feeling at least mildly uncomfortable.  So I do what you should never do to a dog, and stare him dead in the eye.  I’m not doing anything else but fixing him with a cold Alpha-Male stare…if he says something I may or may not respond.

Naturally the lesser man, meekly looks away and won’t address or answer my challenge.  Essentially I just pissed all over his leg and he said nothing – WEAK.  This is all very immature, needless, barbaric, kind of mean, totally awesome and the type of thing this particular girl does not like at all.

She did not like it, but she loved it in spite of herself.  Being a Real Man is not about being right or good.  This is not a moral or ethical quality; it is just strength, and women love strength, even when it ticks them off.

If you are unfortunate enough to be in a relationship try this experiment.  The next time your wife or girlfriend is nagging you – wait – is she nagging you right now???…I bet she is, unless you are one of those Simps that have an internal Nag-o-matic built into your brain and you essential nag yourself all day.  Pathetic.  Well before you shoot yourself – and who could blame you – do this.  Walk up to the woman and GENTLY – you don’t want to hurt her – pick her up.  I don’t care if you cradle her, fireman carry her; just get her feet off the ground.  Hold her COMFORTABLY and ignore her nagging.  Sing a little song to reinforce to her that you aren’t listening.  The key is to make sure that her only legit complaint is that she isn’t on the ground, not that you are wrenching her shoulder or squeezing her organs.  Don’t put her down until she asks nicely and says “Please” advanced users of this technique should be able to coerce a bacon cheese-burger meatloaf out of the encounter.  Set her down gently and say something cool like, “If you insist.” You want to convey the notion that you could hold her up all day.  This sounds stupid but if done right works like a charm.  Why?  Beats me. Oh, and if the woman is too large then you should probably do whatever it is she wants before she hurts you.

You can argue the rightness and wrongness of it till the end of time, it will still be.  Also don’t even think about pointing out men, who are attracted to beauty, enjoy a worthless quality, where at least strength is generally useful.  Both these qualities are rooted in breeding…which is a somewhat worthless endeavor.

I mean seriously you are so great that we need more of you…I doubt it.  Now ponder this – if you dare.  Biology really has only one means of judging success – and it is very specific.  How many viable off-spring an organism has defines the success of that creature.  Nothing else matters, unless it directly affects this reality.  This is the same for mayflies, salamanders, trout, and humans.  Sure we can believe whatever we want about social success, personally happiness – all LIES.  Well maybe not lies but not biologically relevant.  If you have two kids or even 10 kids compared to the average spider, goby, or male guest of the Maury Povich show, you are a complete and total failure.  There is no way around this.  Well I suppose you could be well adjusted and rational and just never think like this.  I wonder if there is something wrong with me…nah its everyone else, has to be.

I am the Flyosopher and I am never wrong…except for that time I thought having a nice caring woman in my life would be a good idea.  Relationships are a poor formula for happiness in general and horrible for a fly fisherman.

Not like a truck.  I have had my baby for 10 years, and maybe she isn’t as pretty as she was back then, but neither am I.  She has scars, scratches, gouges, there are blood-stains on the seats – I know the story behind each one. Good stories.  There were nights I sat in her bed and gazed at the stars. There are things I’ve said to her steering wheel I have never shared with anyone else, nor do I need to.  She has gotten stuck on me, she has required more maintenance at times than I wanted to give her – but she has always gotten me home, and I have always repaired what was broken.  I trust her and can not easily imagine life without her.  She supports my endeavors; I pay attention to her squeaks and knocks.  We enjoy spending time together, and she never chides me if I stay on the water longer than I thought I would.  When it is stormy she gives me shelter.  In short my life is richer and happier because of her, with her there is purpose, without it is kind of a waste of time.

If you truly want to be a happy fly fisherman – get married to the sea.