Report from The Front

Recently I engaged in a fact-finding mission, reconnoitering behind enemy lines. In other words, I was talking with a small group of women. These representatives of their world got around to their usual subject - men. I assumed a Contrarian position.

"Why do men save old copies of Playboy magazine?" one wondered. They all agreed that they knew men with this habit, some intimately, others as acquaintances.

One participant suggested that they [the men] like the pictures. "But really, all those naked women look the same after a while," she said. Others agreed.

No one could posit a better theory tho. And so they turned to me.

I admitted that I had saved the magazines as a teenager, at the bottom of our closet, until my mother apparently found them and silently tossed them in the incinerator. We lived in a one bedroom apartment, so I found no better alternatives. [This harkens back to the days before the Internet, as do many of the readers of this blog.]

I also admitted that I had not saved them as an adult, but still felt qualified to furnish the correct answer.

"No reasons come to mind?"

"Not really."

"All right then," I offered. "I'll reduce this to a multiple choice question."

A. Pictures of naked women.
B. The articles.
C. The cartoons, featuring pictures of naked women.
D. The silverfish that gather among molding magazines.

"The answer," I said, "is A, with C a close second." They all snickered and nodded among themselves, obviously enjoying some secret joke common among their species.

I immediately sent a telegram back to my fellows, telling them not to expect to emigrate from Mars anytime soon.
Find no progress.
The Venusians remain primitive and uncivilized.
Keep the magazines.

Bruce