Monday, October 17, 2011

FELINE FEMME FATALES


Just for a moment, let’s go beyond the primary layer of the seeming femininity of our furry friend, the cat, and its alternate name, the pussy. Yes, I know it’s difficult, asking you to go beyond your hypothalamus and your fight, flight, fear, and fuck impulses. Let’s move up a bit into your more, well, socially informed areas of your dopamined mind, yes?
Dogs, as we all know, are loyal, easily trainable, and need to please.
Cats, on the other hand,  are fickle, independent, and indifferent. So the stereotyping says. Let’s draw a parallel. What are some of the more common complaints men have about women, aside from being late? Well, one is that they’re unpredictable (read fickle). Another is that, despite all the media blather about women needing to communicate, they actually don’t, at least when it comes to their relationships with the opposite sex. And, well, what’s to say about indifference, particularly when a man really, truly wants something? The surest route to rejection, whether at a pick up spot or in the marital bed, is for the man to go down the path of being very clear about his hypothalamine desires. Swish of the tail, as she meanders away.  Reject, reject...
It’s just sooooo much fun being a Woman!
Seemingly so warm and cuddly, and then suddenly indifferent. Changeable. Yes, men do like to reduce it to hormones and menstrual cycles, which would seem to leave them off the hook: she can’t help it, she’s on the rag. Did I ever tell you about the time a man actually had the gall to say that to me? What a lovely evening that became. I seduced him, bound him, blindfolded him and had him open his mouth wide. And, can you – I mean, really, can you? – just take one little guess about what I popped in, followed by tape across his mouth? LOL. Honestly, I’m a very caring and compassionate person. Truly. But his remark was just so distasteful to me, and it seemed an important part of his education to learn just how distasteful I found it by having him experience that sensation of distastefulness. And so, as I straddled his crotch, with him straining against the slightly undersized briefs I enjoyed seeing him in, and removed the blindfold – visual contact is very important during training – I explained that the word “rag” in that context is entirely inappropriate. And I calmly, as I shifted my hips just a bit, explained that one of the most important part of our relationship, of the dynamic between us, is that if either of us ever felt we truly knew the other person, and their responses to things, and could anticipate that, it would be lovely… but it would come to feel stale and boring quite quickly – that should he feel that I was entirely predictable, he would be terribly disappointed. And, again, I reminded him of how distasteful the word “rag” is and went on to explain that my being capricious really had nothing to do with hormones – I could just as easily manipulate him into the very position he was in right now when I wasn’t having my period—on his back and rather helpless, though I’d need to find something equally distasteful for him to chew on.

Which, of course, I later did, merely to prove the point. He wasn’t a fan of Chopped Liver. Never did acquire a taste for it, despite my effort. Oh, well.
The point here, my dears, is that being unpredictable is a source of strength, and power. Yes, it’s the nimbleness and quickness of the cat that makes them so elusive to dogs, with their hunting instinct. And, yes, it’s the hiss and the arched back that warn dogs off. But it’s the sudden, entirely unexpected and unpredicted swipe of the claws across the snout that reinforces it.
Which is why, dear reader, Batman – the strong, mysterious male and his transparent ego – can never quite subdue Catwoman, and her feral understanding of arousal, desire, and manipulation. Sure, he’s stronger. And, he has all those nifty man toys at his disposal. But Catwoman is a continually elusive being, beyond his control.  (Like the man’s penis.)
Surely you don’t need proof, but let’s just consider something. What’s the best way to minimize and control something? To mock it, of course. Back in the repressed ‘50s, Catwomen were often flat out goofy – ineffectual little things that flocked around each other to no effect, a source of amusement and naughtiness.
Example: some fun films of that era:

CAT WOMEN OF THE MOON
CAT GIRL the UK film
CAT PEOPLE. Actually a fun film.
Later, as taboos lifted, Julie Newmar in the ‘60s Batman television series was more than naughty – she was bloody well hot.

Michelle Pfeiffer was hardly buttoned down, though her Catwoman was the polar opposite of the passive, mousey designer she was in her mortal life.


 Ditto for Halley Berry in Catwoman, who literally had no need for Batman: she was her own woman.
And now comes Anne Hathaway in the next installment of the Batman movies. Dark glasses, inscrutable, impenetrable leather skin.
When it comes to men, let me ask you this. Who needs claws, when there are so many other weapons at our disposal?

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