Yorop Yodellings - Episode 2: Luhv-en City of Luhv

Been a long time since my last post. Many apologies. Had to recover my lower jaw from the abyss whence it had fallen. And that's taken a few weeks. Let me explain.

Ever asked a kid what he thought Heaven would be like? Well I'm too old to recall the harps-and-haloes wishes of the really young and ignorant kid, but I do suspect that the average adolescent dreams of a Heaven with some significant female element in it.

Awake, young men! Spread the news, oh ye gents! Come to Luhv-en, Belgium. Discover the land of milk and an abundance of people you'd like to call 'honey'.

What is it with this place, anyway? The answer does not lie, like some believe, in the idea that white women are more beautiful than those who look like they're covered in hot chocolate. The very idea is ridiculous, especially if you put it that way.

It simply stems out of a population imbalance here. You should see this place to believe it. A population that is 60% female and 40% male. Now THAT's something.

I am a student of business. I know what this means. It all boils down to supply and demand, you see. Fundamental principle: lower supply, higher demand (barring the odd exception). So now you have, for a change, a lower supply of the male chromosome. You recognize the implications?? Gosh wowie. You should see the demand shoot up. It's all reverse psychology, I tell you. Imagine a land where the men no longer do the chasing. Now ya know what I've bin a-talkin' 'bout?

It's a strange land, no less. Well, in Europe, there are couples and there are couples. And then some. But see a couple going at it, and inevitably, yes, it's the man being the prize to be sought after, the man who sits (or stands, or what-have-you) like a helpless toy as the woman has her fill of him. They're all over the place. The girl making a dessert out of the boy's face. The girl pinching the boy's back-pocket. Or what's behind it. Do I disgust thee? Well, at least I kid thee not.

Well, the value of men shoots up. And it takes someone from outside - like me, from a country like India - to see the difference, and tell them what a beautiful place Europe is.

But there are side-effects. Unfortunately. More women than men - well, you must have guessed already, the results of this. Not a one-to-one relationship between men and women. And since this is not Mormon territory, obviously there are bound to be some women, well, out of the loop. And these bachelorettes do good to society by trying to even the balance, finding luhv in each others arms. Yeah. They're flooding out of the market.

Chain reaction happening. Watch out for the next step. The young boys grow up, seeing this happen, seeing their potential girlfriends being snatched away into a world of delusion. And, unable to cope with the trauma, they seek luhv in each other's arms too. Golly. What a pickle. That's proliferating the imbalance, I say! But it's too far gone now to help.

I seen it, you know. The funniest sight. A bearded man in a flowing satin wedding gown, complete with veil and all, and the front kinda sagging from something missing. Where is the camera when you need it the most. Dang.

A progressive land, this. Ranked #6 in the UN Human Development Index, #1 in human satisfaction. #2 in the order of countries to make gay marriages legal. A warped, twisted land, this.

But a lot of it has to do with the nature of Europe. The best of Europe was born out of the Renaissance, a period that I had the misfortune of studying. Every person in that era who made any significant contribution to the arts, architecture, science, politics or even road-sweeping, turned out to be: (a) gay; (b) promiscuous, having several children that no one or everyone knew about; (c) all of the above. It was a period when all 6 popes who presided over that time fell into those categories a, b or c, and one very righteous pope even published his writings of erotic novels. Now how cool is that?

A gay and happy land, to be sure.

Romance hangs in the air, it sucks people into it, witting and unwitting. The romantic poets didn't insist hard enough that it was Romanticism, not Romance that they were writing about. Or maybe it was the Romans, making sure their name lived on even after the Evil Empire fell.

Most times the romance is sweet. It's nice to see men and women, young and old, holding hands and dotting every walkway. I've sat in tea shops and smiled indulgently at nanogenarian couples holding hands across the table and gaze at each other with the love-light still thick in their eyes.

Sometimes, though, in combination with a few pegs of the good old you-know-what, and under the cover of night, a couple might be found making love in the city square. Pornographic magazines stand all along the windows of main roads. Sex plays on TV at night, with special shows advertising one-night-stands if you call into special telephone numbers....

From a different angle - sometimes, also, one tends to wish the romance wasn't so infectious, when people from cultures alien to such behavior get sucked in and act in ways they wouldn't if the setting were otherwise. Extraordinary things can happen to ordinary people here. With results that can surprise even the European, which is saying a lot. Hm. No more on those lines.

Never mind that rant. The truth is, it's easy to be luhv-in it here. Luhv in 536 brands, easy to soak in like the beer that's flowing in every canal. The only difference is that soaking in every brand of beer is advised. The advice does not extend to luhv.