|Photo by Ty Hardaway|
How's this for a social litmus test: the first time I heard about Silvio Berlusconi's sex scandal, I was in the staff room of my workplace sitting at a table with EIGHT menopausal women and ONE other guy. Bonus pressure: three of the women at the table were Italian.
It was actually even worse than that - the 'guy' in the group is known to routinely PVR episodes of Glee and use the term 'amazeballs' in casual conversation, so he's really barely one of us. Didn't matter anyway; the women were doing all the talking.
I sat there listening to every outraged word coming from their non-lipstick wearing, childless mouths, all the while knowing I would eventually have to say something redeeming on behalf of Men ™. When they did finally ask for my opinion we all knew it was only a formality. For them, there was exactly one acceptable position for me to have re: the issue, and it wasn't doggystyle. Still, I had to think it through. Before jumping into my take on Berlusconi I paused to reflect on some of his achievements:
He allegedly used tax payer money to fund private sex parties with many high end hookers, some of whom were under age, he lied about it, got caught, and instead of trying to defend himself with a thin pseudo-argument about the meaning of the word 'is', he kept his pimp hand strong by coming out and telling all of Italy to suck the grease off his balls because he's not going anywhere until his term officially expires in 2013.
The overall reaction from the Italian public has been outrage, but hey – what good is having power if you lack the will to abuse it?
So what's my honest opinion of Berlusconi? I'll tell you this much – none of my co-workers will ever know. Because I learn form my mistakes I decided to avoid honesty in this situation and I lied to the exact specification of my colleagues expectations.
I'm a guy who writes under a pseudonym for a hipster blog. I'm a coward. Everyone in that room heard exactly what they wanted to hear and while that might make me seem weak in the eyes of some, it also guarantees me the much more practical reward of knowing no one will spit in my coffee when I'm at work tomorrow.
I wasn't ready to share my honest opinion back in that staff room with my colleagues, but now that I'm here on Street Carnage, protected by an impenetrable wall of pseudonymic immunity, allow me to tell you all how I really feel about the Berlusconi scandal:
If my arid, shriveled 74-year old balls were, through some divine grace, to find their way into the willing mouth of a 17- year old girl that looked like this, it would prove God's existence to me more conclusively than if Jesus himself were to show up at my apartment and turn my Brita filter into a Napa Valley vineyard.
There is nothing welcoming about old age, but this guy has more to live for at 74 than I ever have in my entire life. It's tempting to downgrade his glory by pointing out the fact that the girls he was with were prostitutes, but if you think it's that easy to pull off then I highly recommend you try it yourself sometime. Go ahead – call over a Craigslist escort; don't be surprised when the European supermodel pictured in the ad turns out to be a 40-something mother of 2 trying to support her kids. Good luck trying to reach climax while you stare at the caesarian scar above her gunt, taking inventory of the loose items you left around your bedroom that might fit into her purse. You can't knock Berlusconi for the quality of women he chooses to bunga bunga with.
The man was definitely living what most men would consider to be a fantasy life, but only if you look at his situation from a detached outsiders perspective. On the inside, the truth is a lot less glamorous. Berlusconi ruined his marriage with a wife that was already significantly hotter than he deserved, misappropriated tax payer dollars, tried running the government like Frank Sinatra Corleone and after all the outrage he's faced from the people he's supposed to represent, he's shown no remorse for the fact he is 100% in the wrong. In truth I know nothing about his politics, but I also hear, according to the women at my workplace, his policies are borderline fascist.
But nobody really cares about politics. The social value of this drama is watching women react with disgust to men who say things like "Silvio Berlusconi is a pimp!" or "I wish I was Silvio Berlusconi". Ladies, here's what you need to understand about when a guy says he wishes he was Silvio Berlusconi: he doesn't really mean it.
No man actually wants to ruin his marriage, destroy his family, open himself up to severe public scrutiny or be charged with the responsibility of running a country. When a guy says "I wish I was Silvio Berlusconi" all he really means is "I wish I was fucking hot 17 year olds". That's all. The percentage of heterosexual men who feel this way is exactly 100%, but it doesn't mean they're going to be inspired by Berlusconi to throw away their relationships or families. It also doesn't mean they're okay with all the things Berlusconi did to elevate his dick game to pimp status. All it means is that from a safe distance, looking at only the most superficial details of what happened, its enviable to see a 74 year old man fucking extremely hot women. It makes other men feel as though there might be more to old age than shitting the bed and pleading to be euthanized.
And really you gotta cut Berlusconi some slack anyway because what good is having power if you lack the will to...oh shit...I said that already didn't I?