Though instrumental in the doing of the laundry, the washing of the dishes, and the making of a good apple pie, and integral in the birthing of children, nothing ruins a good mosh pit like a woman. There are a handful of ladies who are more than, shall we say, equipped, to pit with the boys, but such outliers are, by definition, rare. I am compelled to assert, in what I can only refer to as
Now—the curious reader may be asking—what on earth does moshing have to do with anything? Allow me to explain.
When I—you, anybody—go to a concert, I—you, anybody—commonly look around at the crowd. One can tell a lot about a show from the crowd, even if looks may deceive. For example, if there are a lot of stale old codger punks, still touting the travesty known as the mohawk, thirty plus, and usually closer to forty, wearing Dead Kennedy's shirts—and you know they saw Biafra live—the bitterness factor may be a tad high. Angry punks pit hard. Conversely, if the crowd contains any number of girls who would look attractive if they were five years older and didn't look nearly identical, all five foot nothing, one hundred and two pounds, the pit is going to be somewhat less fierce.
Customary as the 1-2-3-4 followed by the power chord, after the first song, girls come streaming out—usually in pairs, the hesitant one angrily leading the way while the girl who actually wanted to get in the thick of things is re-evaluating her judgment. Sometimes the poor things are wearing sandals. They'll learn. Some places aren't meant for little girls, and while no one would begrudge women the right to pit, common sense notes that the experience may be decidedly unpleasant.
Whatever else we're teaching in school these days, risk management does not appear to be a part of the curriculum. The moment when the young saps carefully place the condom on the cucumber seems as good a place as any to explain that actions, all actions, have consequences. Risky behavior is to be engaged in only after careful scrutiny; pitting, though certainly almost benign in comparison to many other activities, demonstrates this truth. If you don't want to be badgered about, find a nice spot to stand in the periphery to playfully nod your head and tap your toes in tune to the music.
This isn't any harder to understand than mastering the technique of putting the condom on the cucumber. I can't figure out whether, as yesterday's survey suggested, the masses are absolutely senseless, or if this is merely indicative of the cultural abdication of responsibility. My hunch is we're both stupid and irresponsible.
Now for the unpleasant application: women, don't get mad when you are "raped" after getting belligerently drunk and going home with a guy you just met; men, don't get mad when the woman you thought you had consensual sex with later claims date rape out of embarrassment the morning after.
Too harsh? Is this not analogous to moshing? Bad things will happen, and just as one increase one’s chances of taking an elbow to the eye by entering a pit, so does one increase the likelihood of sexual assault—or false charges thereof—by placing oneself in an environment conducive to sexual indiscretions. No one deserves to be raped, and no one deserves to be accused of a crime they didn't commit. But mankind is dark, and people do evil and despicable things. We might reduce the incidence of crimes by a little common sense.
The girls who scurry from the pit learn their lesson quickly, and with little ill effect. With rape, the stakes are much higher, and the damage more permanent and far more terrible. These women might learn something as well, but it would be better if the lesson need not be experienced first hand. The stove may be hot, but it is unwise to place one's hand on the burner to determine whether this be so. Thinking things through instead, it turns out, provides tangible benefits.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Pit Responsibly
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