Tag Archives: noble savage

Thug Love: Your Girl’s Favorite Oxymoron

Money over bitches. How romantic!

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The other day, I was having a conversation with a few female friends over drinks.  This was our second stop on the libation train, so we were all sufficiently lubricated enough to engage in free-flowing discourse.  (Being only an armchair psychologist and therefore not subject to APA guidelines, that’s just how I like my subjects.)  Anyway, maybe the barkeep dropped a glass, maybe a few fellow patrons suddenly caused a ruckus, but whatever it was lead me to jokingly blurt out something like, “Sheeeit!  I thought I was ‘bout to have to throw them thangs!”  One of the ladies then replied, “Oh, please.  When’s the last time you got into a fight?”  Smelling the kind of controversy that births great posts such as this, I egged them on.  “Oh, so you think if something popped off I would just scream like a little girl and run?” Another took up the opportunity to wave the Bitchass Banner all up in my face: “Nah, maybe not quite like that, but I just don’t think you’ve got much thug in you, and I like my men to have that.  See, I’ve got this friend.  He’s a blood…”

Unfortunately, the rest of the conversation is a bit spotty for me, seeing as though I started throwing up in my brain at that point.  Still, I knew what kind of fuckery she was talking because I’d heard it before.  Babygirl likes to sip on that Thug Passion, and she’s not alone.  It turns out that a not insignificant proportion of women actually have a soft spot for hard men…in psycho-emotional terms, I mean.

See, there’s a special species of bourgeois women that fetishize the icon of the Bad Boy or Thug.  In their minds, and in a romantic context, this character is something akin to what the Noble Savage was to pre-20th century white people in a cultural context.  In the eyes of the settlers, Native Americans led fundamentally alien lives, were strikingly unrefined, and also unquestionably dangerous.  In a classic demonstration of the human mind’s capacity to bend and twist on itself more adroitly than a Magic City dancer, those aforementioned scary traits are simultaneously perceived as their mirror images: alien becomes exotic, unrefined becomes pure, and dangerous becomes potent.  Asked the pioneer woman to the young brave who found her trembling in the corner of her home after his tribe’s raid of her town, “Are you gonna ravage me and kill me, Mr. Injun?  If so, do I get to pick the order?”

Look, it’s cool to have fantasies.  Everybody’s got ‘em, and they’re healthy.  But the thing about fantasies is that a lot of them would leave you transcontinentally fucked if you ever actually tried to realize them.  “My Girlfriend’s Hot Sister Wants to Get It” is one of mine, but I know that even I ain’t smooth enough to get out of THAT stunt without some serious scars…probably from hot grits.

Check it though.  It may not be as obvious, but those enchanted by the “Thug Love” fantasy are cruising for a big bruising, too.  I mean, res ipsa loquitur, kids: the thing speaks for itself.  Thugs love neither ho nor bitch, and contrary to what they may say, if they’re a thug, any woman can morph into a ho or a bitch at the drop of a muphuckin’ pimp hat.  Yes, that means you, Ms. Spelman.  Just like the former Indian cult (red dot, not feather) from whence cometh their name, thugs are killers.  And if they’re not yet killers, then they have the potential to be.  And if they don’t have the potential to be, then they’re not thugs: they’re pretenders.  Any woman that would prefer a thug or worse, a pretender, over a level-headed, fight-avoiding, job-protecting, (mostly) responsible cat like me and my homeys is playing with fire and just itching to get that ass lit up.

So ladies, the next time you feel that urge to go out and get yourself a bad boy, do yourself a favor and call that nice dude you met while volunteering for Obama instead.  Tell him to throw on a bandana (pick whichever gangsterific color gets you goin’) and make him do all kinds of naughty/disrespectful shit to you, depending on how mental you in fact are.  You’ll feel better about yourself in the long run, and you’ll probably end up avoiding annoying stuff like FBI surveillance and wet towel beatings.

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