"A woman is not an object. She is not something; she is someone. You treat a woman with respect. She is not your toy. She does not owe you anything just because you are a man. When she comes to you for comfort you listen to her; you do not make a move on her. Grow up and start treating women how they deserve to be treated", Unknown.
Some men have no idea how to approach a woman. They believe that women are there for their pleasure and for no other reason. These same men sit around wondering why they are alone every night when the geek down the street has a girl friend.
Second life is no different than real life with one great exception. The cloak of enmity seems to give some men licence to act toward women in perverted and obscene ways.
I am going to use and example here but will not use this so called man's real Second Life name as I would not want to offend his sensibilities. But those who know me will know exactly who I am talking about, lol.
Lets call this perverted lump of manhood Piggy.
This poor excuse for a man finds it amusing to write lewd instant messages to women telling them what he wants to do with them sexually. When confronted by another person about this behavior he finds what he has done funny. Personally I find it the act of a very sick human.
Where, in some one's upbringing were they taught that this behavior is acceptable? What is worse is that people, who find out about this behavior, do not confront the individual. I hear excuses like. "he is foreign and does not know better". BULLSHIT!! I know men in other cultures show respect for women. Especially Europeans.
How can a man treat a woman like that and still have respect for his own mother. Or daughter for that matter.
I happen to be in an Second Life group with this person. Good people are alienated out of group participation because of this behavior.
I know that Piggy will never read this but maybe it will give some other man pause to consider their own behavior.
As for Piggy; I vow to find ways to make his life as miserable as I can possibly make it. I will complain loudly every time he slips up in group. I will instant message every woman I see him with and inform them of his behavior.
I will find a way to drive this neanderthal back into his cave to huddle around the fire alone, cold and with only the companionship of his imaginary friends and Mary Palm and her five sisters.