I must also ask what a woman's scorn feels like. No one takes me seriously enough to waste perfectly good scorn, unfortunately.
-snip-
She's right, you know. (unless you have 500k urists of marble, an ingenious miner/mason and NON-DF physics.)
[A woman's scorn]
Wierd's surefire method:
Find a vulnerable, reclusive girl. They like libraries, parks, and zoos. They fear rejection, and have a serious self worth complex. Genuinely act interested in her. Take her on dates. Build up her self esteem. Be helpful, supportive, ad nurturing.
Just as she is beginning to bloom and fall madly in love with you, tell her she was just a temporary fling, and that you were desperate.
Wear abspestos underwear.
Ahhhh, you sound like you have a bit of experience in this. lol 
Me? Oh no. I have never comitted this sin. I do not destroy vulnerable people to suit temporary urges. (This fact has raised any number of questions about my sexuality. See the "hyperactivity" thread for my one time answer.)
What I am, is observant. I have seen this exact thing happen. There are two kinds of women you should most frear:
The first is the timid kind, that finds herself. Having overcome her demons, she is invincible. Your betrayal will be swiftly, brutally, and heartlessly dealt with. You will never know peace.
The second is the hardened, worldly woman. She has seen what the world really is, and knows its game. She will punish you in ways you cannot imagine. You will not know peace.
These two types of women are so dangerous, that human patriarchal societies have instinctually worked to ensure they are always a minority. The "ideal" woman, thruough history is compliant, lacks swlf worth, and lives only to please. The alternative is the clueless bimbo who is kept ignorant, and on the shelf. The trophy wife. As a nonsexual male, I can see this clearly.
The first type of woman is called all maner of names, and derided by conventional society for centuries. "Brazen", "presumptuous", and "vindictive" are the usual adjectives. The latter has always been a thorn in the side of masculine power, gravitating toward positions of female power. Healers, wise women, and oracles. Their experience grants them oracular power of a sort, because they have seen it all, and nothing ever really changes. The vaneer of man's vanity is as translucent as glass to such women. Their powers are unquestioned throught the ages. They are often decried as witches and enchantresses in literature.
To me, they are mearly women who's eyes have been opened. I tend to get caught in the crossfire, told that I could never understand them, or their plight, but I am not apt to agree with that statement. I myself and a pariah of sorts. I know the role. I am not interested in temporary, physical pleasures. I desire the real, the true. I love the mind. The women western society make are not real. They are fantasies of other men, striving for a pinnacle that is false. Women should live for themselves, and know what they want. When I meet women like that, I cannot help but be attracted. I like the full flower of a mature and ripened mind, full of experience, and proud with bold expression. This is true of any gender. The body doesn't matter. The mind is powerful, and captivating. That is all that matters.
It is the respect one has for a vicious wild animal. Power. Beautiful, and to be respected.
Like a wild animal, women dislike unnecessary confrontation. (Except amongst each other, but that is a set of circumstances too sophisticated to elaborate on in a forum post.) Do not give them a reason to devour you, and you have little to fear.
Like a fire, you only get burned when you play with it. I don't need to have experienced the conflagration to know what happens when you pour gasoline on a tiny fire.
I am smart enough not to do it, and biologically blessed to not flit to it like a moth dancing in the candle's light.
I watch all the others fly in, blinded by instinctual urges, and behaving oh so foolishly. They beat the flame with their wings, and it consumes them.
In short, I do not understand my own gender. Men do things I would never in a million years ever contemplate, for 10 minutes of fleeting pleasure.
Fools. Fools all.
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