A Dissertation on Dicks
(Or, #DOD — not to be confused with Department of Defense)
Everything I am about to tell you is true. Completely. Recently, I had an idea. Well, more of a realization. Kind of a big one. Life-changing, maybe. But I haven’t told anyone yet. I’m a little afraid. Not that people will laugh at it or think it is a stupid idea. But that they’ll steal it and get all the credit. I’m telling you, it is a world-shifting kind of idea. Not in the get-me-really-rich kind of way. More in the make-people-think-different kind of way.
Alright, I know. I’m stringing you along. I hope you realize that a bit. You want to hear it? You really want to know? Ok. Here it is:
(And ladies, back me up on this…)
Guys! You are dicks! Yes, I said it. (Well, wrote it.) But you’re right, I left someone out.
Let me rephrase:
Guys! We are dicks!
Yes, that includes me. We all know it deep down below the depths of denial. We’ll just never admit it. Call it “The Guy Code” or “The Bro Code.” We won’t break the silence of denial. We always have each others’ backs. We are enabling (socially) and perpetuating (genetically) dickishness. We passed it down for decades to descendants. It is in our DNA, both biological and cultural. It is the Y chromosome — as in the Y you gotta be a dick? chromosome.
Think about it. There are different kinds of dicks. Every guy is dickish in his own dickish way. There is a diversity of dicks. Basically, there are a lot of ways to be a dick. It is a multi-spectrum di(ck)order. We’ll explore that further.
But, first:
What is a dick? We all know one. At least one (thousand). We’re literally everywhere. Every town, every city, every country, every social media platform. Even Antarctica. We’ve spread our seed across the planet. And we’re fighting to keep it that way. IF WE CAN’T HAVE IT, NO ONE CAN!
But really, what are the characteristics of a dick? Or, should we ask, what is the anatomy of a dick? These are the three main aspects common in varying proportions in all dicks. It seems to break down pretty simply. Let’s take it from the top: the head (ego), the shaft or cock (self-certainty), balls (bravado). I shouldn’t have to explain all of that — it is pretty intuitive, especially considering our collective wealth of experience. But here goes:
Head (ego) - This comes in two sub-variants: Inflated Ego Syndrome (IES) and Fragile Ego Syndrome (FES). Though they seem different, they are really two sides of the same coin.
We’ll start with IES, which is rather rampant. We all know this guy or this aspect of every guy (It is a spectrum di(ck)sorder.)
When he walks into a room he needs to be noticed. I mean, he is VERY important. Just ask him. He’ll tell you everyone knows. He’s basically the most important person in every situation. He may have an entourage that helps reinforce his sense of self-importance. Whatever he does is the best of whatever he is doing. And everyone must acknowledge his importance and superiority in a variety of subtle rituals. It’s better for everyone if they just follow that simple rule. He will let you know if you don’t. This is the guy who likes to hear his name said again and again. This is one of the subtle ways that we acknowledge his importance.
But don’t cross him, because…
He may also suffer from FES. A significant percentage of dicks present with both variants of ego disorder.
You know this guy too. His ego bruises easily, and he takes that very seriously. I mean, how could anyone not realize how important he is? What kind of world is it where greatness isn’t so immediately and appropriately appreciated? We are all worse off in such a world because when he doesn’t receive requisite regard, he lets everyone know. Sometimes it is messy. And, sometimes people get hurt. But it is justified. At least, he thinks so.
These are the quarterbacks, the lead singers, the conductors, the monarchs, the film directors, the DPs, the anchormen, the artists, the delicate geniuses. And that is literally the source of most of the conflict throughout the history of humanity. Just sayin’.
Shaft or cock (self-certainty) - another usual suspect, this is the most prevalent and pervasive aspect, even in the nicest guys. He always knows he’s right….ahem…because:
Whatever I did wrong, was because of what you’ve been doing wrong. I just didn’t say anything about it. I didn’t want to be a dick! I took the moral high ground. I’m just defending myself now.
This is our way of giving everyone else the shaft in almost every situation. Or, just being cocky. It basically proves we are right in every situation, because we couldn’t have done something wrong. And if we did, it was really someone else’s fault. We are totally blame-proof. We always do what is right, unless someone else forces us not to, but that’s not our fault, even when we take something that hurts someone else. It had to have been right because we are BLAME PROOF! I know, it is kind of circular logic. But remember, this is about self-certainty. No one ever said men were logical. (Oh, except we did for most of history, while we said women were the illogical sex. But how could we be wrong?) Continuing the (ill)logic: I may have taken something that hurt someone else, but it wasn’t my fault. So, I was right. Which means it is right for me to take what is mine by right. I am entitled by right!
This is the guy who sticks up for himself because no one else will…because no other guys have power (really?). What a guy with a backbone?!? Such moral rectitude. Stands on his principles. No one else is looking out for him but him. He has to take what he is owed. We all admire each other, and got each other’s backs on this (and whatever else we can agree on in backrooms) while we give everyone else the shaft. It’s like a code. Oh, we covered that above. But this also is a spectrum disorder.
I’m sure you have witnessed some form of the escalating example depicted here:
Two guys (likely white, but not always: race correlates to perceived sense of entitlement. Do I really need to explain that?) get in a fender bender. They both pull over and step out of their cars.
Guy: “Hey! Why’d you hit my car?”
Other Guy: “I wouldn’t have hit your car if you hadn’t slammed on your brakes!”
Guy: “You wouldn’t have hit my car if you weren’t ridin’ my ass!”
Other Guy: “I wouldn’t have been riding’ your ass if you weren’t driving so damn slow!”
Guy: “I wouldn’t have been driving so slow if I didn’t have to watch out for crazy drivers like you!”
Other Guy: “I wouldn’t have to drive so crazy if wasn’t always gettin’ stuck behind slow drivers like you!”
Guy: “Hey! I got a right to drive however I want!”
Other Guy: “Well, I got a right to get places in a reasonable amount of time!”
It could go on ad infinitum.
You know it. You’ve seen it. You might even have been it.
These are the politicians, the CEOs, the attorneys, the tycoons, the colonists, the traders, the priests, the ad men, the entrepreneurs, the guys who are always right and took what was owed them. And that is literally the source of most of the conflict throughout the history of humanity. Just sayin’.
Lastly,
Balls (bravado) - this one may be on the wane thanks to centuries (at least) of women trying to enlighten us. But, nevertheless, it persists. It’s the guy that responds with excess verbal assaults or violence. The hotheaded guy. He’s always proving his manhood the best way he can: BY BEING A MAN! IT’S WHAT MEN DO! They say boys will be boys, but that is really just rationalizing, because men will always be dicks at any age. It could be life-long violence, or rare belligerent outbursts. The guy that beats his wife and/or kids. The guy that breaks things. The guy that extends the cycle of dickish abuse and neglect and the denial that comes with it. All to be ballsy, to prove that he, indeed, is a man. And if that is what it means to be a man, then he nails it (again with the circular logic).
These are the cops, the soldiers (#DOD), the tech bros (#DOD), the football players (maybe rugby too), the terrorists, the martyrs. And that is literally the source of most of the conflict throughout the history of humanity. Just sayin’.
All of these aspects are a spectrum ranging from the positive to the negative, but not morally — mathematically or quantitatively. Far in the positive means “more of.” Think: a lot of ego, a lot of self-certainty, a lot of bravado. Then, there is zero, which means none of the above. Then there is negative, which is less than zero. Think: a guy with no ego whatsoever. Or at least none left at that point in his life. He’s the one when mixed with other dickish characteristics might tend towards being an in-cell or a mass shooter. But not every guy is a mass shooter. Remember, different kinds of dicks. Don’t mean to be drilling this down on you. Ya know, I’m not trying to be a dick (we all know what that really means). But not every ego-negative guy becomes a mass shooter. No. It takes certain mixtures of self-certainty and bravado or confusion about them to concoct a guy ballsy enough, in an ego-less way, to try to put a piece of himself (bullets, though he sees these as phallo-symbolic extensions of his manhood or whatever he believed that he was proving that to be) squarely into the hearts of other peoples’ lives. (Or maybe it is because of the insults to his ego.) Extreme, both in brutality and in probability. But statistically inevitable. At least we seem to believe we could not have stopped it. (Subtle hint of the denial of dickishness.) It is definitely not the guns! It is the dicks! Or the dicks with guns. Maybe it is both. We all lose out, even us guys. We get shot and so do our family and friends. But if we admitted that, we might not be dicks. Gotta keep it up to code.
It is a delicate balance. It takes delicate balance for us not to be such dicks. Some of us can pull it off for a percentage of each day. But it often requires not having our egos bruised, or being forced to defend ourselves, or prove our manhood. But it really depends on how important these aspects of our dickishness are to each one of us. That is to say, what makes each of us a one-of-a-kind dick.
“But even guys can recognize a guy being a dick!” someone protests. As if it were proof of something? Yes, we have these experiences from time to time, but it is really something that has more to do with context and domination than recognizing dickish behavior. In that moment there was a clash of sensibilities between two phallo-centric worldviews, in which a man saw an opportunity to curry favor or gain advantage by putting down another man (such a dick thing to do). But dick needs strategy. Gotta have game. There’s no dick in TEAM. But that’s because it is really a secret society. If you talk about it, you could get killed. Of course, there are lots of other dick-related ways to get killed. It happens all the time, at least in America.
Have I moved you a millimeter toward being convinced?
If not, just read history. A word literally denoting HIS story, not hers, not theirs, not ours: HIS! Singular, because HIS story needs to be told. It is the most IMPORTANT! (See: we all suffer from at least some inflated sense of ego.) And we have gotten sad lately because a bunch more of her stories, and their stories are being told. (Insults to our collective guy ego.) Tough time to be a guy. Inverse victim-blaming. (Perpetrator playing the victim). Whatever I did wrong, was because of what you’ve been doing wrong. I just didn’t say anything about it. I’m the real victim here.
We’re almost back to the beginning. Should we keep going? That is how cycles keep going. People keep them going when they don’t see a reason to change course. We are at a critical juncture. We are our own worst enemies and victims of ourselves and each other. At least do it for selfish reasons. That would still be in character — a thread of the code. Something to remember. Maybe a vestigial gene.
And, I know, guys. I’m the worst. It was a real dick thing to do. But it wasn’t my fault. Someone had to do it. Plus, I had the right to do it. The funny thing is, that is just more proof that I, you, we are all dicks. I can hear the guns already being loaded and cocked. And if they get used, that will be more proof that you really are a dick. Look, I’m not better than you. I just want to figure out how to be better than we’ve been.
The choice is ours.
May the Schwartz be with you.