Monday, December 12, 2005

Diamonds are forever?

Economics is one of the hardest human sciences for an ape to master. Dr Whipsnade once showed me a diamond he had bought as an investment – he said it would probably end up on the ring finger of a princess. Although it was very pretty and quite dazzling when held up to the light, I have to admit that the novelty wore off after a minute or two. I couldn’t understand why high-ranking human females would be so keen to acquire a trinket like that and show it off on their finger. You can see much prettier patterns by looking through a children’s kaleidoscope.

Apparently it’s all to do with economics. The high-quality diamond is rare, which makes it very valuable, which means that you can exchange it for vast quantities of goods. Dr Whispnade estimated that the diamond he showed me could buy a million bananas, which is a lot of bananas. His explanation seemed satisfactory at the time, but on further reflection I began to have my doubts. It’s all very well saying that a diamond could be exchanged for a lot of bananas, but has anyone actually done so? Is there a documented case of such a trade? After an exhaustive search, I could find no such example, which led to me suspect that deeper forces are at work.

My belief is that women who are given diamonds have no intention of exchanging them for bananas – or anything else for that matter. Their wish is to display them as status symbols and otherwise keep them safely locked away. It is very important to the woman that everyone knows that the diamond was a gift from her mate – buying your own gem is apparently cheating. So what the diamond signifies is the opportunity cost that the male has been willing to accept in order to please the female. Its value is the bananas that the male has forsaken, rather than the bananas that the female could acquire.

Using a diamond in this way may be a well-established human convention, but it seems rather shallow to an ape. It may, in fact, indicate a rich husband rather than a particularly devoted one. Is the man who buys a diamond for his mate more likely to protect her from a crazed baboon or pick the nits from her fur? My suspicion is that the reverse is true – i.e. he hopes that the gift of the gem will absolve him of any obligation to provide her with dangerous or time-consuming services. But if this is so, how many women realise that their diamond is actually a compensatory down-payment for an inattentive husband? Misunderstandings such as this may explain why so many human partnerships end in acrimony and divorce.

From a gorilla’s perspective, the human male should stop fobbing off his females with sparkling stones and adopt more practical methods of showing devotion. The first activity I would suggest is petting. Although most women lack sufficient body hair to be given a good stroking, a foot massage may be an adequate substitute. If a man can regularly press a woman’s feet without getting bored, it probably means he will be a good mate to her. The other activity I would strongly recommend is killing a dangerous beast on her behalf. All primate females have a deep psychological need to be protected by their mate, and this element of courtship is an essential component of many romantic movies. Ideally, the creature killed would be a crocodile (see Crocodile Dundee), but for the less courageous man a big, hairy spider may be an acceptable substitute (see Annie Hall).



Comments:
Diamonds versus a foot massage? Ahahaha. Pass me the sparkling stones Romeo and keep your filthy paws off my feet.
 
MMmmm ~ I would definitely go for the foot massages ~ you can't BUY that kind of devotion! When you are 92 and wrinkled, hopefully the mate still desires to hand out a foot massage or two, (plus, think of the benefits, foot/back/neck massages often turn into more intimate activities, in my experience), think of all those years of lovely physical contact ~ and yet, when you're 92 and have only diamonds to caress your neck/back/feet, well, that's a colder scenario in my book.

Besides which, if they are real, what happens when the inevitable $9k diamond slips down the garbage disposal? Whoopps!! There goes a house downpayment/half of a new vehicle/ vacation to France.

Naahh, give me the foot massage and money spent elsewhere (like that vacation) any day.
 
Well tarzan, believe it or not, I am also being honest ~ I never did go in for diamonds. Now, a vacation to any number of my favorite places in the world?.. (such as China, or Hong Kong or perhaps Thailand, where some serious SHOPPING can be done) ~ I can also be bought, ohhh, could I be bought,lol. However, diamonds never really appealed to me, plus, I suppose I don't care for the methods they use in extracting said diamonds, and the 7-tier man-tree they have to go through in order to reach the customer, with a price that is inflated over 500+ times its original value. I actually buy and sell pearls & pearl jewelry, among other gemstones, so for me, that stuff holds no mystery. In fact, I don't really care for it. I suppose that makes it easier for me to sell it rather than keeping it all. Now, I do like pearls. Quite a bit. But let's face it, the whole analogy just doesn't work with pearls. ;-D

And I always give Ms Cat credit for her honesty ~ whatever fatmammy is or isn't, she is always ( that I have seen, anyway) very open and direct. Which I like in a person (kudos to you fatmammycat!).
 
I rather like pearls too. I would like a string of Black Tahitian pearls to drape around my neck. I like most kinds of jewelery, always have. I like antique broaches best however, and they are not particularly expensive.
Tarzan, apropos the gold digger remark- I don't know if you know who Mrs Merton is or not, but she was a talk show host character created by Caroline Ahern, and on one of her shows she was interviewing a certain glamour puss Debbie McGee, wife of magician and bald ugly coot, Paul Daniels. Her opening line...
"So Debbie McGee, what first attracted you to millionaire Paul?"
 
FMC I’m resisting, I really am, the temptation to reply. (the obvious pearl thing) Oh God it's hard. I mean difficult. Jesus.
Necklace! Oh shite.
 
I knew you'd pick up on that you filthy little cock-jockey!
 
This is one of my favorite posts of yours so far.
I find your attempts to approach such a difficult human subject touching, ape. Most endearing.

Let me help you to understand:
diamonds represent various things to humanity, rarity being only the most superficial--and ultimately artificial--property that diamonds possess.

Redhead is right to value the foot massage, but the diamond represents more that devotion. As she said, there is the extraction and the middlecreatures between its birth and you. Ultimately a diamong is a tiny, little piece of death mounted on your finger.

We mortals, ape or otherwise, have yet to master death.
But diamonds are awash in blood, and a high quality diamond represents at least 0.02% of a human death, with some of them as high as 210% of a human death.

The woman, whose loins are astir with passion when put into close proximity to the gemstone, is attracted to the fact that many people she doesn't know or care about are dead now. It makes her feel more alive in comparison, and life begets life through sex.

diamonds=death=sex!
 
Dearest Red head scripture reader,
"When you are 92 and only have diamonds to caress your neck"

You are a yank, for christ's sake!
Sell them on ebay and hire all the foot-rubbers you need!
Jaysus! Is America losing it?
 
Death you say, SafeT? It seems a very oblique way of being reminded about death. Why not just kill a crocodile, as I suggested? Don't human females like it when you protect them?
 
You don't want to stray down that path GB, it leads to no end of trouble. The last time I said I rather liked men and thought it charming that they opened doors for me and treated me nicely, a woman with pink hair and a nose ring informed me I was the very reason women were still down trodden. I was shocked to say the least. Who know that it was my fault?
 
Might she have been a lesbian, FMC? Not that I have anything against them, of course. It takes all sorts to make a world.
 
GB is right! A dead croc will provide endless shoes, boots, handbags, watchstraps and sundry fancy goods that ladies find irresistable. More so now that the EU has banned them. I've eaten croc. It was minging, a bit like sour, slightly off pork I thought.

FMC is Right! There is no correlation between manners and courtesy in men towards women and a lack of status for women. That noseringed harpie was an unimaginative twerp.
 
I don't think she was GB, I honestly don't. Just an angry woman with too much time on her hands.
Docy, how in the name of sheba have you eaten croc? I though you only ate neeps and tatties and deep fried mars bars? OH and broth...you mean all those stories are false?
 
Diamonds? Useless and boring. Foot massages? Eugh. Feet are disgusting and should always be hidden inside some good, heavy boots.

Personally, I'm thrilled when I get that book or CD I mentioned once in passing (more than the object itself, it means he's listening) and some help around the house. I guess it takes all kinds.

I'm a simple soul.

Opening doors for people (regardless of sex) is common courtesy. That angry woman needs a few life lessons. She'll get them.
 
I was in Namibia. I also had springbok, impala, kudu and another one that I can’t remember. They were all very good indeed. And millet, ksavo (sp?) yams, other strange roots, all the different biltong and dried meat products (VG).

No offence to them, but they didn't do neeps, mince, tatties, broth, shortbread, haggis, scruttocks, farggies, or mars bar truffles with fresh raspberry coulee.
 
I am a complete magpie when it comes to glittery stones, but you're right about the feet.I hate feet, especially knarly ones with oddly shaped toes. Vile. That pinky girl Andraste, she is the friend of a friend of a friend and one of the other great remarks she made was that women who allow men to pay for dinner(?) are asking to be raped. I swear to god. When I heard this my eyebrows almost shot off my head. I had no pithy reply, no remarks what so ever. How does one combat that kind of thinking? Oh and did you ever find your jeans?
 
Well, FMC - it's tough to combat that kind of thinking. Clearly, no charming laddie has ever bought her dinner, and she's hacked off about it. And frankly, she's nothing to worry about for our purposes. Obviously, she won't breed, so her nonsense will die with her.

Did finally find some jeans. Went with the Levi's 505 for men, and had them tapered by the local stitch shop. The jeans are cheap enough, that it justifies the extra expense of alterations.
 
But the woman can see the death anytime they want. The croc carcass will decay quickly.
 
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