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| photo: Eric Carpenter, c. 1943 |
“A successful man is one who makes more money than a wife can spend. A successful woman is one who can find such a man.” — the screen goddess Lana Turner, 8 February 1921 to 29 June 1995.Though delivered with a measure of worldly cynicism, there is a kernel of truth in the observation. Men are most often judged by what they can provide, and the loudest self-appointed gurus of modern masculinity (the ‘manosphere’) seem to understand only half of that equation. They obsess over testosterone, dominance, berating women, and projecting their twisted ideas of strength, whilst paying comparatively little attention to cultivating their minds, developing useful skills, or improving their financial prospects in life. Earning power is more important than virility — muscles and all of that are icing on the cake; if the cake is rich enough then it does not need any icing.
Yours truly hath made a million mistakes through the years. In my younger days, I spent far too much time worrying about the wrong things. Not because I was trying to become some sort of he-man figure — though I have the voice of a much more imposing man, my pale and skinny arse was still never destined for that role; mind you, this was also long before the current moral panic over the loss of masculinity and the ugliness it hath inspired — but because I was forever trying to fit in with groups and individuals whose approval I believed I needed. Even in my late thirties when I was involved in the twelve-step cult, I was all too often a ‘people pleaser’. It was ingrained in me by numerous parties, during my formative years, that simply being myself was never going to suffice. None of those people are anywhere to be found today, when I am too exhausted and fed-up to be anything but myself.
Looking back, I can see how much time and energy I wasted pursuing acceptance from people who neither deserved it nor appreciated it. I cared too much about belonging and not nearly enough about building a life for myself. Had I chosen different priorities, surrounded myself with different people, and possessed a little more confidence in my own judgement, many things would have turned out differently. Perhaps I would be able to leave this dying country if I had, somehow, made more money in my prime years. Instead, I shall die here, with all the other fools.
On the other hand, even if I had become a rich man, I do not know that there are any Lana Turners to be had in this world now.
But I digress.
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Copyright 2026, Arthur Newhook.
