WHEN the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
When Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can.
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,
They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws.
'Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,
For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away;
But when hunter meets with husbands, each confirms the other's tale—
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Man, a bear in most relations—worm and savage otherwise,—
Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise.
Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact
To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.
Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,
To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.
Mirth obscene diverts his anger—Doubt and Pity oft perplex
Him in dealing with an issue—to the scandal of The Sex!
But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frame
Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same;
And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,
The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.
She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast
May not deal in doubt or pity—must not swerve for fact or jest.
These be purely male diversions—not in these her honour dwells—
She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.
She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great
As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate.
And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim
Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.
She is wedded to convictions—in default of grosser ties;
Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies!—
He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild,
Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.
Unprovoked and awful charges—even so the she-bear fights,
Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons—even so the cobra bites,
Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw
And the victim writhes in anguish—like the Jesuit with the squaw!
So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer
With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her
Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands
To some God of Abstract Justice—which no woman understands.
And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him
Must command but may not govern—shall enthral but not enslave him.
And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail,
That the Female of Her Species is more deadly than the Male.
On December 14, 2006 my son's 'brother' took his own life. He was 22.
From the day I met this kid I knew he was bound to be one of my 'kids'. He was bright, intelligent, funny, kind, caring, but he was also scared, lonely, desperate for love, understanding and acceptance.
I have been told that he has always been this way but more so when he came back from the Marine's. Something happened to him when he was a Marine that he would never talk about. All I knew was whatever happened made him hate himself and self destructive.
His parents were in their own world having just gotten divorced. And his brother and sisters were off living their own lives. He was the baby. And he was left out. I do not think any of them meant to hurt him but neither do I think they knew they did.
We tried to be there for him. My husband, son and I. As well as all of his friends. But the people he needed most no longer knew him or understood him. It made him lonely. No matter how much we loved him or spent time with him he was still lonely. And he was afraid.
After my husband and I moved away, Paul began to do drugs. Crystal Meth. We did not know about it until after his death. Apparently, no one wanted us to know because Paul thought we would be disappointed and ashamed of him. He was wrong but had no way of knowing that. That was the pattern of his life. The drugs made him paranoid and even more frightened. My son tried to get him to come out and stay with us but he refused. He would not have known where to get the drugs here. And he was hooked.
On December 14, 2006 my son's 'brother' took his own life. He was 22.
From the day I met this kid I knew he was bound to be one of my 'kids'. He was bright, intelligent, funny, kind, caring, but he was also scared, lonely, desperate for love, understanding and acceptance.
I have been told that he has always been this way but more so when he came back from the Marine's. Something happened to him when he was a Marine that he would never talk about. All I knew was whatever happened made him hate himself and self destructive.
His parents were in their own world having just gotten divorced. And his brother and sisters were off living their own lives. He was the baby. And he was left out. I do not think any of them meant to hurt him but neither do I think they knew they did.
We tried to be there for him. My husband, son and I. As well as all of his friends. But the people he needed most no longer knew him or understood him. It made him lonely. No matter how much we loved him or spent time with him he was still lonely. And he was afraid.
After my husband and I moved away, Paul began to do drugs. Crystal Meth. We did not know about it until after his death. Apparently, no one wanted us to know because Paul thought we would be disappointed and ashamed of him. He was wrong but had no way of knowing that. That was the pattern of his life. The drugs made him paranoid and even more frightened. My son tried to get him to come out and stay with us but he refused. He would not have known where to get the drugs here. And he was hooked.
Finally, the drugs drove him into hiding. Thinking that people were spying on him. Listening to him. Whispering to him. And that Thursday night he could not take it anymore.
He ended his life by hanging himself in his father's garage. He left his suicide note on his MySpace site for those of us who loved him to find. We did. It broke our hearts worse.
We have spent a lot of time trying to figure out if there was something we could have done. Something we could have said. Should we have stayed back home. Would it have made a difference? I have no answers. I don't think I ever will.
All I know is that we still love him and miss him a great deal. We hope he has found the peace he always sought.
Finally, the drugs drove him into hiding. Thinking that people were spying on him. Listening to him. Whispering to him. And that Thursday night he could not take it anymore.
He ended his life by hanging himself in his father's garage. He left his suicide note on his MySpace site for those of us who loved him to find. We did. It broke our hearts worse.
We have spent a lot of time trying to figure out if there was something we could have done. Something we could have said. Should we have stayed back home. Would it have made a difference? I have no answers. I don't think I ever will.
All I know is that we still love him and miss him a great deal. We hope he has found the peace he always sought.
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