Try-hard: dog-walker edition.

I’m dog/house-sitting this weekend and took the pooches out for a morning stroll before I have to rush off to church, and before it gets too hot for the big, old dog.

On my way down the hill, another dog-walker passed me at a run.  He looked like he was in his mid-40s, clean-cut hair, physique of one desperately fighting the middle-aged spread.  Not too exceptional – except for the fact that he was running (a) shirtless, and (b) had “Mi familia, Mi vida” tattooed across his back between his shoulders in gothic lettering.

Game aficionados might be saying, “Ooh!  Contrast game!”  After all, it’s not common for middle-aged wealthy white guys to have thug-lite, Spanish tattoos on their backs.  And obviously he must have been very confident to run shirtless, right?

This didn’t strike me as contrast game, though…it struck me as “very misguided try-hard game.”  There will always be an exception to the rule, but for the most part, rich white guys, especially when they’re older, need to be very careful about adopting, er, cultural markers not their own.  It’s too easy to cross the line from “pleasant, intriguing surprise” to “unfortunate SWPL poser” where the woman’s brain is going, “Okay, dude…REALLY?”

Now, I don’t know this guy and have never seen him before.  Maybe he has a colorful, unpredictable past, and the tattoo is a vestige of that life.  Maybe the words have real, deep meaning to him.  But given his looks, his general demeanor, where he was running, and the type of dog he had, I’m thinking that he had a SWPL-y impulse to do something “rad” – so rad it would be permanent, because it was rad and meaningful – and the tattoo is the end result.

I think the reason tattoos on wealthy white guys are so off-putting is because of what they say.  They don’t say that the man has a dangerous, exciting edge; they say that the man leads such an innoculated life that a tattoo is his most dangerous means of feeling blood.  That’s not what women respond to.  Also, tacky tattoos are pretty ubiquitous these days.  (Of course, in Los Angeles, it is completely plausible that such a man could also be a druggie alcoholic with ten mistresses and escorts on speed dial.  But I’m speaking more generally.)

How to write a beta profile.

Boundless has a new blogger by the name of Matthew. Here’s an excerpt from his introductory post:

I’m excited to be blogging here. Why? First of all, I’ve been reading Boundless for about six years, so I’m a little bit emotionally invested in the site. Also, I think we could use more single guys one here. Can I get an “amen”?

(That’s the first time I’ve ever said “Can I get an ‘amen’?” And I promise it’ll be my last. I’ll leave those kind of comments to Lisa A.)

OK, so, how about I share a little bit about myself here. Considering that you could read my bio, I’ll keep the cutesy details to a minimum. Mainly just some Boundless-type deets.

Such as: I mentioned above the fact that I’m single — contentedly single. That’s not to say I don’t want to be married; I certainly do. I should admit, though, that I’ve become truly, legitimately “marriage minded” only in the last little while.

…..

Also: I’m 27. Which feels so much younger than I thought it would back when I was 17. As it turns out, I’m enjoying being in my late 20s: I have enough experience out in the world — career-wise and otherwise — that it seems people are beginning to take me seriously. And I feel like I’ve honed in on what it is I want to do with my life — be a professor. So I guess getting older isn’t all bad.

Overly chipper, overly wordy, overly cutesy, on-the-nose, and super qualifying.  He has Future Youth Pastor written all over him.

One of these days I’ll do a post on writing, but here is a very good example of how to write about yourself in a way that advertises that you find cats more exciting than women.

Even Christian girls want men to put the moves on them.

I am not advocating that men pressure women for sex, or refuse to take no or other signs of disinterest/discomfort for an answer.  But even a Christian woman wants to know that the man she is dating has some sexual interest in her.  This is not easy to determine if the man refuses to touch her in any way* or basically acts like there is a 3-foot virginity forcefield surrounding her that will not allow him to get any closer. (*Sidehugs excluded.)  If this goes on for long enough, the woman will seriously start to question why the man is even dating her.

The other reason a man should not act like he will become electrocuted should he touch the woman he is dating is that it’s a DLV.  It makes the man seem deferential and complacent – maybe even fearful – without even having tested the waters.  This is a big tingle-killer.  If a man tries to put his hand on the woman’s waist and she pulls away, and he doesn’t try again for the rest of the night, a woman will respect him more than if he never tried at all.

One caveat:  this kind of touching is generally not appropriate for a “getting to know you” date.  If you’re meeting a stranger or someone you only cursorily know at a coffee shop, for example, it’s better to keep your hands to yourself.  Otherwise you’ll just get branded Grabby McHandsallover:  Sex-Crazed Pervert.  But if you’ve been on a few dates and it’s looking like this may turn into a regular thing, a woman is going to want you to assert your sexual interest.  A little touch goes a long way in assuring a woman that you are attracted to her.

The importance of having chemistry.

I was reading an article at (where else?) Boundless the other day where a reader wrote in with a question about the importance of chemistry.  Three years ago, the reader, a college student, had a passionate – and apparently chaste – relationship with a young man who excited her emotionally.  (Unsurprisingly, he played in a band and did spontaneous things for her.)  According to the reader, they had an incredible connection with each other.  Alas, the young man dumped her, and eventually she started dating another young man who was his exact opposite:  predictable, responsible, faithful, and intentional.  They have been together for two years, and although they are not (yet?) engaged, he has indicated to her and her parents that he would like to “love and cherish only [her].”  The reader claims that she loves this young man (who is a pre-med student) but feels no chemistry with him, especially not in comparison to the band guy, and even goes so far as to say that if she and Pre-Med broke up, she could go on without him with no problem.  Recently, she met up again with Band Guy, and all of the chemistry they shared came rushing back, reminding her of how powerful a connection between two people can be.  Now she is conflicted – does she hold out for chemistry with a spouse, or should she proceed with Pre-Med?

Candice Watters wrote what I felt was an overly judgmental and completely missing-the-mark response.  First, she chastised the reader for “acting married” with Band Guy and then stated that if the reader hadn’t had a prior relationship with Band Guy, she and Pre-Med would already be married.  Because, apparently, if Reader hadn’t had that Band Guy relationship to compare Pre-Med to, she’d have been ga-ga over Pre-Med.  Or something.

But Candice didn’t stop there.  She then stated that chemistry is just a “polite way” of saying sexual attraction, and went on to relate two other readers’ stories where the young women didn’t think there was any chemistry initially but changed their minds after several dates and are oh-so-grateful that they did.  Candice also advised Reader not to marry someone she didn’t want to marry, but not to NOT marry someone just because he doesn’t measure up to Band Guy.  She then more or less urged Reader to proceed with Pre-Med, saying:

It sounds like you have a great man in your life. Are you friends? That is foundational. Are you both committed to living for Christ? That is essential. Do you spur one-another on in your faith and service to God? Are you together looking toward a God-honoring, fruitful marriage? These are the first questions to answer. From there, you can let love grow. And as I’ve seen in the stories of others, chemistry may rightly follow.

Needless to say, I think Candice was so far off the mark she might as well have set a course for China.  First of all, Reader has been dating Pre-Med for TWO YEARS.  How the heck much longer is she supposed to wait to, by Candice’s definition, become sexually attracted to this man?  Also, what kind of man stays with a woman who, after two years together, says that they could split up and she’d be fine?!  Any Roissy readers (or readers of any other Game blog) could easily diagnose what’s going on here in a jif, and it is not that Reader played marriage with irresponsible Band Guy and thus ruined herself for a quality Christian provider like Pre-Med.  The real problem is that Pre-Med is a classic, boring Beta who knows zip about female attraction psychology, has DLVed himself to a level of almost zero by virtue of his publicly broadcasted Oneitis and pedestalization, and, I’d wager a guess, not only has no clue about what’s going on in Reader’s head, but probably hasn’t made any meaningful sexual moves on Reader, either, out of “respect.”  A toothless baby sounds more dangerous than Pre-Med.  If anyone truly cared about Pre-Med’s precarious relationship health, he would send Pre-Med to Roissy and force him to educate himself before he lost Reader for good.

My other bone of contention with this response is with Candice’s definition of chemistry.  Between a man and a woman, yes, there is usually a component of sexual attraction in chemistry, but it is not the whole of chemistry.  And it’s not just men and women who have chemistry between them.  Two men can have chemistry, as can two women, though not sexual (well, unless they’re gay).  A better definition of chemistry is simply the intellectual and emotional “clicking” of two people.  Chemistry happens when two people’s energies feed into each other and produce a harmony of existence.  When two people have chemistry, conversation flows with ease.  Jokes don’t have to be explained, nor do they sail over the other person’s head.  Silences are not awkward.  Quite often, two people with the right chemistry can go for years without seeing each other or speaking to one another, yet can pick up right where they left off whenever they do see each other again.  Similarly, two people with the right chemistry can meet and be chatting with each other like old friends almost instantaneously.

This is the chemistry that I think Reader was referring to in her letter, both what she had with Band Guy, and what she is lacking with Pre-Med.  A woman longs to be known by the men she loves.  She wants to feel that he understands what is going on inside of her and that he has special insight into her mind that no other man has.  Women want love in general, but they also want a specialized love from their man.  This specialized love is what Pre-Med is sorely lacking in.  Women do not suffer feeling generic.  Ten bucks says that if Reader and Pre-Med break up, Pre-Med will treat his next girlfriend exactly as he’s treated Reader.  The success of that relationship will hinge on whether or not Pre-Med and New Girl have any natural chemistry between them.

As for the sexual component of chemistry, it’s a must for any marriage.  Few things make a woman recoil in fear and disgust more than the prospect of having to have sex with a man to whom she is not sexually attracted.  For most women, sexual attraction grows as their general attraction to a man grows; it’s not uncommon for a woman to see or meet a man and not feel anything for him until she gets to know him.  But I also think that sexual chemistry is actually chemical.  The point of sexual reproduction is genetic diversity, which strengthens the species, so we will therefore seek out matches that will result in that diversity.  How else to explain someone who is great on paper, and you may even get along well, but there is inexplicably just zero sexual attraction?  Yet sometimes you meet someone, and even though the person may not be your “type,” there is just that immediate pull towards the person, like you physically have to be in that person’s space?

Generally speaking, women, upon meeting a man, will place him in one of three categories:  (1) Yes, Please, (2) Wait and See, and (3) NEVER IN  A MILLION YEARS.  I think that subconsciously, this is heavily chemically chemistry-based, especially for categories (2) and (3).  Sometimes a Yes, Please doesn’t pan out; he’s not the guy you hoped he would be, or, equally as likely, his looks worked for you, but his body chemistry just didn’t mesh with yours.  But a Wait and See often means that his body chemistry doesn’t turn you off and you just have to wait and see if there’s more from the intellectual and emotional end that works for you.  (And vice versa for Never in a Million Years.)

It’s the Wait and Sees that I think women should be more open to.  But I resent the evangelical push to make women feel guilty about rejecting a solid Christian provider man when he is clearly a NIAMY (AND a boring beta to boot).

The fine art of settling.

There’s a lot of talk these days in both the Christian community and mainstream society about settling.  The story usually goes something like this:

Before the sexual revolution, you could only get a 6 if you were a 6, a 3 if you were a 3, etc.

Nowadays, 1s through 10s are going for the 10s, leaving everybody else out in the cold until they are forced by necessity to settle, resulting in aged, dessicated husks of formerly semi-attractive women going for the nerdy beta providers they couldn’t stand in high school; or, if the 10 is a man, he has his entire lifetime to keep playing the field.

The solution?  Sound the drumbeat of settling!

This isn’t necessarily bad advice, especially when you consider that the dating/mating market ultimately bows to pragmatism.  For example, if you’re holding out for a physical 10 who matches your laundry list of must-have character traits, and you live a town populated by beer-drinking pizza-eaters whose idea of fine fashion is Kmart, you will either have to lower your standards or move somewhere else…or pray that God not only bring Prince Charming to Buckville but also have him fall in love with you.  Similarly, the market adjusts to what is actually available.  I’ve seen plenty of men online gripe that they go to a highly ranked college and all the women there are trolls who act like they’re 10s and can get away with it simply because there is no one else sluttier better-looking available.

The real strength of settling, or settling wisely, is that it most enables you to find a mate who will both make you happy and whom you can make happy with the least amount of stress.  Everyone brings a different set of goods to the mating table.  Common sense dictates that those with equivalent (and complementary) amounts of goods are likely to mesh the best.  If Person A is very attractive, very smart, very athletic, and very creative, she could make Person B, who is of average looks, intelligence, athleticism, and creativity quite happy with no trouble at all.  But how could Person B, who is inferior to Person A in all of those attributes, reciprocate?  Person B would be killing himself to keep Person A’s attraction centered on himself.  And what happens to Person A/Person B’s relationship when Person C, who is very handsome, athletic, smart, and creative enters Person A’s sphere at work?  How much easier is it going to be for Person A to find points of commonality with Person C than with Person B?  Mismatches of goods result in inherent instability within a relationship because one person will always be playing catch-up.

This dynamic is why I find some adherents of Game to be somewhat delusional, at least if they are interested in an long-term relationship, especially one leading to marriage.  Here you have all these grown men howling about how a female 6 (not a bad-looking person, objectively) is practically an insult to them – but I highly doubt that internet enclaves of Game devotees are all 8s or above.  Men, if you are a 6 who somehow Gamed yourself into scoring a 9, how long could you keep her without losing your wits?  How difficult would it be to fend off the competition?  Could you ever relax in the presence of your 9 without fearing that you’d revealed your inner beta and destroyed the house of cards you’d built?  Ultimately no one can hide from the truth-extracting powers of time and familiarity.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is the notion of settling that seems to be pushed in the Christian community, which is to find someone who is “godly and available” and have that pretty much be the end of your criteria.  The idea of having sex with the other person is about as appealing as having your tooth drilled?  Please.  How is that at all important when the other person is stable, debt-free, and loves Jesus?  Give yourself a decade and let the chemistry develop…eventually.  By the way, marriage is for life and you only get one shot at it!

I think the best thing to do is take a look around you and see the type of person who is in your milieu.  This is the type of person that you’re naturally the most comfortable with — you wouldn’t be friends with people it was hard to be friends with, right?  So it makes sense that in marriage, a lifetime friendship (with benefits!), you would want to be with the type of person you were most comfortable with.  If the people around you are a cut below the type of person you’re always trying to date, it might be time to reassess how good are the goods you’re bringing to the mating table, and to reconsider whether you’re pursuing someone who is realistically attainable.  Likewise, if you find yourself constantly disappointed with your friends, it might be time for a friend upgrade…or a workout regimen.

Settling isn’t about feeling like a loser because you couldn’t snag an Adonis or Aphrodite.  It’s about being smart about your future and making the choices that are going to result in the most harmonious match possible.  But it also involves being realistic about yourself, which is probably the hardest thing.

Learn from Adam.

Men’s Game blogs often advocate that a man not do what his wife tells him to do for fear of compromising his masculine authority and becoming less attractive to her as a result.

What most people don’t realize is that the Bible teaches the same lesson:  Eve tells Adam to eat the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, and like a good beta husband, he does.  Voila!  Sin!  Seriously, three chapters into Genesis, and we’ve already got Adam doing Eve’s bidding.  The results of such betatude?  Well, in addition to the aforementioned sin and therefore death (no more Tree of Life!), not to mention expulsion from Eden:

• Women experience pain in childbirth — this is an exclusively human trait; no other animals experience pain in giving birth
• Women are put under the authority of their husbands
• Men must toil to ensure they can eat
• Sinful nature is passed on through men

Lesson?  Don’t do what your wife tells you to do, or suffer the consequences.

(Probably the second-best “Don’t listen to your wife” Bible story?  When Sarah told Abraham to take her servant Hagar as a concubine.  The result of that union was Ishmael.  The Middle East thanks you, Abraham!)

The most famous chastity story of all time?

No, I’m not referring to Britney Spears circa 1999-2001.

I was thinking the other day about the Bible story of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife.  For those who are woefully ignorant unfamiliar, basically what happens is that Joseph, one of Jacob’s twelve sons, is sold into slavery by his jealous older brothers.  He is purchased by Potiphar, the Egyptian Pharaoh’s captain of the guard.  God gives Joseph success in everything he does, and Joseph rises through the servant ranks.  Eventually, Potiphar puts Joseph in charge of his entire household, which prospers as a result.  Unsurprisingly, Potiphar’s wife starts getting massive gina tingles, to use a Roissy-ism noticing that Joseph has both a great face and great bod, and eventually starts coming on to him.  Joseph, however, respects both God and Potiphar and refuses Mrs. Potiphar, explaining that he cannot betray his master or sin against God by sleeping with her.  Joseph starts to avoid Mrs. Potiphar, who only finds this resistance more gina-tingling refuses to take no for an answer and continues her pursuit.

One day Mrs. Potiphar manages to corner Joseph when the house is empty.  According to the biblical account, she grabs his cloak and once again asks Joseph to sleep with her, but he runs out of the house, leaving the cloak in her hands.  Mrs. Potiphar then calls to her servants and accuses Joseph of trying to rape her.  She holds on to Joseph’s cloak and waits for Potiphar to come home.  She then repeats her fake rape attempt story to her husband, who flies into a rage and has Joseph thrown into jail.  (The story ends well:  Joseph prospers in jail just as he did in Potiphar’s household and eventually is put in charge of the prison, and one thing leads to another and blah-de-blah ends up being Pharaoh’s Number One, saves Egypt from famine, and ends up having a happy reunion with his family.)

The Bible doesn’t give us any details about Potiphar’s wife other than that she tried to seduce Joseph and, when spurned, epitomized “hell hath no fury” revenge.  As a result, it’s very easy to superimpose your own image of what Potiphar’s wife must have been like.  When I was growing up, I always pictured her as a cougar-ish, menopausal woman who was clearly past the prime of her beauty but accustomed to wealth and privilege.  I imagined her heavily-made up eyes following Joseph around like a hungry hawk, and her pouncing on him unawares, aggressively demanding sex at random times.  I imagined her howling like a banshee and her indulgent husband white knighting for her honor.  And as far as I can recall, no pastor or speaker that I’ve listened to has ever presented a really different idea of what Potiphar’s wife was like.

It’s very possible that Potiphar’s wife really was a menopausal cougar, an Ancient Egyptian crazy lady who refused to accept that she’d grown old and unattractive to men and basically had a psychotic breakdown when confronted with reality.  There’s nothing about this take on Mrs. Potiphar that doesn’t jive with Scripture, or feminine nature as we know it today.  Any woman who’s brazenly thrown herself at a man and been rejected usually suffers a horrible mixture of rage, embarrassment, and depression all at once.  Mrs. Potiphar’s reaction, while a bit extreme, really isn’t anything out of the ordinary, especially if you watch a lot of Cops or any of the myriad of judge shows on afternoon TV.

More recently, though, in light of reading some Game blogs, I’ve started to rethink my idea of Potiphar’s wife.  For starters, if Mrs. Potiphar were old and menopausal and therefore not all that attractive to a younger man whose own attractiveness was starting to peak, would it have been such an issue to turn her down?  Why would Joseph’s refusal seem to contain an element of regret?  Gen. 39:8-9 says,

“But he refused.  ‘With me in charge,’ he told her, ‘my master does not concern himself with anything in the house; everything he owns he has entrusted to my care.  No one is greater in this house than I am.  My master has withheld nothing from me except you, because you are his wife.  How then could I do such a wicked thing and sin against God?'”

This doesn’t sound like a dude saying, in essence, “Mrs. Potiphar, I’m not the kind of guy who sleeps with his boss’s wife, but even if I were, well…I’m, uh, just not that into you.”  Instead, Joseph seems to be saying, “Look, you’re really attractive, and if the circumstances were different, maybe we’d have a chance.  But because things are the way they are, we don’t and can’t.  I’m sorry.  You need to accept this.”  Another point to consider is that Potiphar was a very powerful man.  As captain of the guard, not many men in Egypt had higher social standing than Potiphar.  It seems very believable that Potiphar would have had a young, beautiful trophy wife rather than an aging crone of a wife.  Maybe Mrs. Potiphar was even the second or third Mrs. Potiphar (the previous ones being “retired” as Potiphar ascended in rank).

The story takes on a much more dramatically and emotionally interesting read when you put a young, gorgeous, attentive, and admiring Mrs. Potiphar into the story.  It wouldn’t have been (as) hard for Joseph to turn down a 40-something, papyrus-skinned Mrs. Potiphar whose bathroom was stocked with twenty different Jewel of the Nile anti-aging cold creams and mud masks.  I imagine it would have been painfully difficult to turn down a soft-bodied, sweet-smelling, lush-lipped Mrs. Potiphar who was always impressed by the way he did things and never failed to say so, who might have teased him about finding the right girl for him while looking at him from under long, sooty lashes, who was open about being lonely and not able to relate to her much-older, always busy, never there husband.

It’s easy to imagine this scenario:  New slave Joseph proves again and again that he’s very good at whatever task he is given, and what’s more, he doesn’t gripe or complain.  The other servants like and respect him, and Potiphar starts to realize that Joseph is a much better administrator than the guy who’s currently in charge of the house.  Potiphar says “smell ya later” to the current guy and puts Joseph in charge of the household.

With Joseph in charge, the household has never run better.  It’s clean and organized, bills are paid on time, the other servants are getting along and are more productive, and Joseph is even talking about getting those long-put-off renovations taken care of.  Potiphar is thrilled and wonders why he didn’t put Joseph in charge much earlier.  At night, Potiphar talks up Joseph to his gorgeous new wife, who agrees that Joseph is doing a great job and mentally makes a note to take a closer look at Joseph herself.

Joseph notices that Mrs. Potiphar is being more friendly these days.  She also looks and smells amazing as she teases him about his cute accent.  Joseph reminds her that he’s busy, but he’s struck by her charm.  His boss is a lucky man.

Joseph is inspecting part of the property with another servant, making notes for improvements, when Mrs. Potiphar joins them.  Joseph greets her with a smile and begins to tell her about his tentative plans to landscape the area.  Mrs. Potiphar listens politely for a few minutes, then dismisses the other servant, saying she has business to discuss with Joseph.  Joseph asks her what she needs help with.  Mrs. Potiphar says that her husband is going to be out of town for a few days.  Joseph says that Potiphar had recently informed him — just a business trip, nothing major.  Mrs. Potiphar lays a hand on Joseph’s arm and says that they can get to know each other better while her husband is away.  Every hair on Joseph’s body stands on end.  He jokes that they know each other pretty well already, as he can name her favorite foods, how she likes her clothes laundered, and what her favorite song is.  Mrs. Potiphar tells Joseph that she knows he can feel the chemistry between them and that it’s not wrong.  And they get along so well, Joseph really gets her, unlike her husband.  She asks Joseph if he’s ever wondered what it would be like to be with her.  Joseph’s brain is about to explode — she’s standing so near, it would be so easy to take a taste — and then somehow all of his convictions about God and his morals come rushing back, and he removes her hand from his arm and tells her that she is the one thing he cannot have, and that he could not betray his master nor sin against God this way.  To his surprise, Mrs. Potiphar doesn’t seem disappointed; oddly enough, she seems charmed.  Joseph quickly excuses himself and goes back to the house.

Joseph does everything in his power not to be in the same room as Mrs. Potiphar.  When she enters a room, he leaves.  When she calls for him, he sends another servant in his place.  But he can’t avoid her always, and he endures some very tension-filled moments where he tries not to look her directly in the eyes.  At night he prays for relief from the situation, but none seems to come.  Things get to the point where the other servants have started whispering about them.

One day Joseph goes to the house to look for some documents in storage.  The house is quiet since all of the other servants are outside.  Joseph opens the closet where Potiphar keeps his files and is so deep in thought mode that he doesn’t notice that someone else has entered the room.  A rush of cool air on his back — his cloak — he spins around to see his master’s wife clutching his cloak to her chest, her eyes full of feminine victory.  He stammers her name — she presses a finger to his lips as she comes closer.  “I’m yours,” she says, and now her hands are touching his chest.  “You can have me however you want.”  Joseph tries to speak — no words come — her touch burns trails of fire — all his blood — her tunic drops to the floor  — “I’ve given the servants a lot of work.  We won’t be bothered.”  Suddenly he receives a bright-white moment of clarity — and he runs — runs hard — past the servants — to the most distant corner of the property.

Inside the house, Potiphar’s wife is stunned and embarrassed.  Joseph left.  He ran.  He ran away from her, when she offered him the finest curves he could ever hope to find in all of Egypt.  She picks up her tunic and starts to redress — and then it occurs to her:  what if he tells Potiphar, or word somehow leaks out?  Potiphar adores Joseph, like a combination of a brother and a son.  Fear paralyzes her for a moment; Potiphar is a permissive husband but very possessive.  He will not suffer a wayward wife.  Self-preservation kicks in, along with a hot streak of anger.  Joseph just made a huge mistake.  He didn’t know who he was messing with.  No one walks away from her and gets off scott free.  She screams, then screams louder.  She hears the sound of running footsteps, and within seconds, two servants burst into the room.  Potiphar’s wife clutches her tunic to her body with one hand.  In the other hand she holds Joseph’s cloak.  “He tried to rape me!” she screams.

When Potiphar arrives home from work, the atmosphere at the house is chillingly subdued.  A servant greets him.  “Your wife would like to speak with you.”

Potiphar finds his wife lying in bed, disheveled and listless.  He asks what’s wrong, and she tells him.  Potiphar can hardly believe it — but his wife wouldn’t lie — of course Joseph would have tried to take her, she’s beautiful, and Potiphar had given Joseph too much power.  A seed of anger bursts into a raging fire.  He yells to his servants.

As Joseph is being escorted out of the house, Potiphar can’t bear to watch.  As angry as he is about Joseph’s betrayal, he can’t help but feel pain at losing the best house manager, and maybe even friend, he’s ever had.  Kid was so promising.  Such a shame.

Did Halle Berry seal her own fate?

Yes, I am a stereotypical woman in that I enjoy reading about celebrities, seeing what they’re wearing, and dissecting their life mistakes choices.  It’s not so much a lifestyle aspiration (I live in Los Angeles and work in the entertainment industry, so I’ve gotten to see a lot of celebrities up close; most are uninteresting when the cameras are not rolling) as it is a perfect storm of things I like to analyze — faces, fashion, and behavior — all wrapped into one.  Basically celebrity trash magazines and blogs are like Super Wal-Marts of my interests…um, besides poring over John and Stasi Eldredge books, I mean.  Yeah!  Woo hoo!  Captivating 4eva!

Evangelicals spend a lot of time trashing Hollywood, not entirely without reason — Hollywood produces a lot of trash.  (Christian productions produce a lot of trash, too, but when the litmus test of trash vs. non-trash is “does it have an ~uplifting, heart-warming message that’s suitable for the whole family?”, trash production is an impossible thing to acknowledge.)  Anyhow, I see Hollywood not so much as something to denounce with the pointing finger of moral superiority but as the clearest possible picture of our sinful nature.  It is an unvarnished reflection of what lies in all of our hearts.  The only thing that separates most Hollywood behavior from our own is opportunity.  Remove all social and moral restrictions, and surround yourself with enablers and the most beautiful and powerful people of the opposite sex — the most sexually irresistible people in the world — and it’s not hard to see why celebrity after celebrity falls off the holiness wagon.

Last week news broke that 50% mega-famous, 100% gorgeous couple Halle Berry and Gabriel Aubry have split up.  (Gabriel is a male model who is the father of Halle’s 2-year-old daughter.)  They were together for four or five years, which in Hollywood time is pretty impressive.  The only thing surprising to me about this break-up was that fans were surprised.  Applying a Game analysis to the Berry/Aubry relationship, the reasons for the break-up quickly become obvious:  Halle, despite being acknowledged as one of the most beautiful women alive, is 43 and about to hit the Wall, if she hasn’t already.  Gabriel, on the other hand, is only 34.  At the time they began dating, Halle was still near the peak of her looks while Gabriel was still ascending in value.  Now, however, the tables are beginning to turn.  Halle is aging out of the fertility market, while Gabriel is just beginning to peak in his attractiveness to women.  (Obviously, being a gorgeous and successful male model, his attractiveness was high to begin with, but now he has maturity to add to his menu of scrumptious offerings, not to mention the insanely high preselection value of having dated a woman as beautiful as Halle.)  In addition, Halle got the baby she had always wanted and maybe didn’t tend to her relationship with Gabriel as before; I always got the impression that she valued having a baby over having a man.  Another important factor was probably the separation of the couple due to working in different places for extended periods of time.  Add in the unequal fame and earning power of the couple, the emotional baggage each brought to the relationship, and the extreme temptation of Hollywood, and voila!  Breakup.

Maybe the most predictive factor, though, was that Halle and Gabriel never married.  Halle is twice-divorced and has stated more than once that she has no intentions to marry again.  She told Ebony in 2004 that she wanted someone to “come and stay and be there because he wants to, not because he has a piece of paper saying he has to.”  Which is all very fine and noble, but…what if she and Gabriel had married?  Wouldn’t that have given Gabriel more incentive to stay with Halle and be an everyday father to their daughter?  Most divorces, after all, are initiated by women, and so far there hasn’t been gossip that Aubry is a player with a wandering eye.  Additionally, men generally stand to lose more (financially) in divorce, especially in California.  Despite being a community property state, it strongly favors mothers upon dissolution of a marriage.  I think it’s very possible that Halle Berry created a self-fulfilling prophecy for herself to lose a man by refusing to commit to him beyond mere feelings.  It takes two to tango, but beauty (which rapidly depreciates) and feelings (which come and go) are not the things you want to tie your hopes for a lasting relationship to.  There needs to be a stronger bond and reciprocal obligation between two people to weather the ups and downs of life, and in the vast majority of cases, that is marriage.