Biology was certainly interesting today. Right now we’re in a chapter about the endocrine system, basically the system that releases hormones to trigger certain responses in the body. Today was the day we learned about the reproductive systems, both male and female. Fun.
To start off the class, Mrs. Houtman spent about ten minutes talking about the male reproductive system. She briefly explained the different parts, talked about testosterone and sperm production, and that was it. Then she proceeded to take the rest of the class to explain the female reproductive system. Apparently it took longer to explain because it was more complicated – I had to admit that, since everything to do with females is always more complicated, that she was right, but still, it shouldn’t take five times longer to explain their reproductive system than it took to explain the male reproductive system. It was stupid.
For most of the class, she went into graphic detail about ovulation, the growth of the egg, something about follicles, and then into the menstrual cycle. Then, she talked about the hormones estrogen and progesterone for about five minutes. Now I have a question: why did we go into so much detail about the system when we’re not even talking about the actual reproductive system, but rather the hormones? Answer: feminism, plain and simple.
Now, I’m not faulting Mrs. Houtman, but she is the product of feminism. Almost all females today are. They’ve been brought up in a day and age when, instead of like in the past where they had no rights, they have more rights than males, just because they’re apparently an “oppressed minority.” Nowadays, the males are oppressed, because the feminists have secured so many rights that men no longer have a say. So here we are talking about the reproductive systems, and Mrs. Houtman is going on and on about how females have one million eggs at birth, and only 400,000 at puberty, then release about 400 eggs until menopause, blah blah blah. She then explained how amazing the chances are that you became who you were, because you could have been one of the 600,000 eggs that were lost. I wanted to vomit right then and there. Males, on average, produce 50,000 new sperm per minute, every day of their life after puberty. During intercourse, about 500 million sperm fight for the opportunity to be the one single sperm that penetrates the egg. Now, Mrs. Houtman, what were you saying about odds?
You see, it’s not that I’m denying the odds of the egg and crap like that. But she didn’t even mention the even more incredible odds that the sperm produce. You could have been one of billions and billions of sperm cells that just never made it. If there’s one thing I cannot stand in this world, it is people who blatantly make the most biased statements and expect everyone to follow what they say – typically personified with feminists. I can understand that a female would be more interested in teaching about her own bodily systems, but when you have a class with an equal number of guys and girls in it, you have a responsibility to present both sides equally. She stated that the book went into “more detail” about the female reproductive system. I checked later, and there was probably about a whole whopping one or two paragraph difference. And the information about the male glands had much more to do with hormones than any of the information about the female glands. So, considering that we’re talking about hormones, there should have been much more detail about the male system if anything. Obviously, she just wanted an excuse to talk about the female system, which probably excites her for some strange reason – sort of like most females I know.
Anyways, after school, I vented this to Meagan and Steph, and they just laughed at me. They understood, though. I told them that I really could care less what women go through, and that I don’t need to know about the disgusting stuff that happens. They said, “Well, you’re going to have to know this when you’re married.” Pphh. Yeah right. I’ll let my wife worry about her own body, and she doesn’t have to fill me in on all the details about what’s going on inside her privates. If there were a problem, I would want to know about it. But if everything’s working naturally, like God made it, then I don’t see a reason why I should need to know about it. I wouldn’t sit and explain to my wife that I’m currently, at this moment, creating sperm that could produce my future children. If blood normally came out of me every month, I wouldn’t feel a need to explain this in graphic detail to anyone. I know enough information about the female system to get me by, and I don’t want to have to sit there for an entire Biology class and learn how egg cells are made. Screw that, I’d rather just sleep on my desk and continue making my sperm.
Anyways, that was my frustration for the day. The one thing I learned and later shared with Bethany was the fundamental difference between men and women, as shown by their reproductive systems. For men, life is a race. To be the one sperm that fertilizes an egg, you must be the fastest and the strongest. You must swim better and faster than any other sperm out there. Females, on the other hand, are all about backstabbing. During meiosis, the creation of the egg, a cell divides to make two cells. Well, that’s what normally happens. In reality, one cell that later becomes the egg steals all the cytoplasm from the other cell, so that second one just shrivels up and dies. It happens again later on in the process, too. So I figure that women achieve their goals through backstabbing and sucking the life out of others. At least male sperm don’t kill all the other ones to become the best. End of story: men are better than women, because women are just stupid.
Anyways, considering I already knew that men were better than women a long time ago, that was just an added conclusion that reinforced that proven fact. I mean, considering all the hormonal imbalances that women go through regularly, as a part of their life, they’re pretty unstable anyway. I wouldn’t want to work for a female in any job I wanted to keep. I’d be too scared that I’d have to go into her office one day and she’d rip off my head out of anger. Hey, that’s what female praying mantises do. They rip off their mate’s head and then eat him. I’m sure there’s a comparison there between the animal world and humans, but I’m not going to go there just in case a female that knows me is reading this. I wouldn’t want to run the risk that she’d be having her “time of the month” and suddenly throw a violent fit of rage and start throwing glass objects at me. Glass hurts.