All married men cheat

I have been castigated recently for saying, “All married men cheat.” I have two responses to this. I admit that, of course, I have no knowledge of the exact percentage of married men who cheat. And in fact, I think there are strong reasons to believe that no one can know the exact percentage. The number of men who cheat but don’t want to admit it -- the number of men who are faithful and don’t want to admit it. And then, of course, a man who, when asked if he has
ever cheated on his wife, answers “no”, even if he is telling the strict truth, can really only mean “no, I haven’t yet.” In order to get a true picture of the percentage of married men who cheat, you would not only have to get a fair and representative statistical sample of all married men -- a sample which, although representative, somehow happened to be made up of completely truthful men, and you would also have to talk to these men at the precise moment of their death. Call no man faithful until he is dead, so to speak.

But really, to discuss how many married men cheat is beside the point. Although I phrased it badly, what I really meant is that adultery, although not universal, is inherent in the nature of marriage; just as incest is inherent in the nature of the family, and force is inherent in the nature of government. We try to wall it off, but it’s always surging back, showing up in various disguises. So a faithful man, if he exists -- one who is faithful not from cowardice, and not from lack of opportunity, but because he truly doesn’t want anyone but his wife -- if he exists, he is a greater miracle than the most shameless cheater. The reason why the media coverage of Tiger Woods’s adultery was so frustrating: society forcing us to pretend to a surprise and shock and outrage which, most likely, no one with the slightest acquaintance with the world felt.

Money vs. friendship

Money substitutes for friendship, but friendship cannot substitute for money.

If you're moving, you can track down a friend with a car and beg people to help you carry stuff. Or you can hire movers. Similarly, if you need a ride, a hairdo, a loan, childcare, a place to stay, entertainment, or someone to talk to; you can get what you need with friends, but you can pay for a perfect substitute. And then, of course, at a level a bit out of my price range, you can buy even social pleasures for money: the prostitute or trophy wife, the adopted children, the "personal assistant" or entourage, the therapist or personal physician, even the accommodating Congressman.

And, of course, with money you don't have to humiliate yourself by dancing attendance on others. There is no possibility of refusal. You can get what you want now, without waiting for another's schedule. And you know the people you hire to provide services will be (mostly) prompt, reliable and skilful. They won't disappear if you say the wrong thing.

In conclusion: you could spend the weekend spending money with friends, or you could get a second job. I know what I'll do.

Too much freedom?

" Too much freedom and non-conformity can be just as stifling and miserable as conformity and repression."

The sentiment expressed in these words is one of our modern platitudes. It can be found in the most diverse contexts--just now I found this quote in an article on The Simpsons. Yet this thought comes from a place of pure ignorance. Which of us has ever had the chance to tire of freedom and non-conformity? Which of us has even come close to tiring of them? It's like saying "getting everything you want won't make you happy." Well, maybe not, but have you tried getting everything you want?