Overhearing two guys in line at Cluck U Chicken, daring each other to order buffalo wings with 9-1-1 sauce they’ll have to sign a waiver form for, I can’t help but think how little we’ve seemed to evolve from what once hunted with throwing spears and settled their disputes with a test of strength, or how testosterone sometimes gangs up with other male hormones and forms a militia to overthrow the dictator, Common Sense. If this were the 3rd Century, maybe the guys' antics would entertain a crowd in the Roman Republic, both of them swinging their spiked battle flails and swords at each other, or at something much higher up on the food chain. When I watch the news of young boys killing one another on the streets, it’s hard not to see manhood as a Coliseum, where the condemned and marginalized come to risk it all for a kind of redemption; hard not to feel someone’s laughing, jeering, and calling for blood.
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