Enron Men Bring The Hotness

On my non-Enron blog this week I was bemoaning the fact that all the so-called “sexy” men these days are pussies. Or at least they’re not masculine. They’re softened and feminized. I was attempting to name celebrity who defied this description, and came up short. I couldn’t think of any. The only examples of really masculine men, really idealized masculine men, that I know of are the men of Enron.

One specifically, but also, generally, they’re all guys. They play rough with other guys but are extremely kind to women. They are gentle and wise. They are busy with the contents of their own minds; they don’t need anyone else or anything else.

These guys are sexy.

I wish all men were like Enron men. I wish men today didn’t have to be babied and pacified but would take the reins of their own destinies and just be brilliant.

While I’m writing fiction, if I ever get stuck on a male character, and I wonder what direction to go, I just think, “What would Jeff Skilling do?” It’s always the hard way, and it’s inevitably right, because sexy men eschew the easy for the interesting.

I detest being told that effete, narrow-shouldered, purse-carrying men are sexy. Instinctively, I don’t believe it: I figure these soft little boys are constructs of movie executives who believe women want sensitivity and understanding. That is why we have a conveyor belt of Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp, Jude Law. I’m so much more interested in a strong spine than good abs. A man with experience at success is so much sexier than a man who mumbles and smiles at interviewers, his head as empty as his soul.

As I am typing this, Greta Sustern is showing a clip of the View in which Barbara Walters is fawning over Zac Efron’s bare chest. I am literally repulsed.

Let’s get Rex Shelby to take his shirt off. Total panty-melting hotness.

Bring back the Alpha Male, like the ones fighting in Kabul, and the ones who occupied desks at Enron.