Prostitutes are bad, apparantly. Those lingerie-touting floozies - Fulfilling a basic human need, for money. Disgusting. Awful. Shameful. Makers of Spam hang your heads. Ice-cream salesmen, whip yourselves raw you despicable sinners.
So, who dilineated these distinctions of "Good-Woman" "Bad-Woman", the whore and the virgin..? Hmm..? Men never cared. We'll take a Tart-with-a-heart over a frigid ice-queen if push comes to shove. We ain't all that choosey. Who do we want..? I can wash up and Hoover for myself thank you. Someone marry me to a stripper with her own collection of novelty pasties. I'll pass on the plaid-skirted wall-flower thank you. Only a man unconfident of himself will worry too much about his woman's profession leading her to infidelity. (But then, in some areas, men are always unconfident).
Jealousy. Envy of those who flaunt their beauty. Hatred of those with ample wiles to entwine the hearts of men. The hatred of women for women. That is what spawned these words and their emotional baggage. It is the bane of women that they cannot all be beautiful.
If men in general naturally despised a whore as much as women do - The profession would not exist. And yet it remains the oldest. Every city has its red-light, however hidden. Every little boy has his stash under the bed.
Whatever the less than perfect, or even downright ugly, reality - The whore in the abstract is the epitomy of sexuality - A siren tempting sailors onto the rocks - Er... To get their rocks off. Intriguing, irresistable. Honest.
All women who have wiles, use them. At the bottom of any particular wile is the implication "Do this for me, man, give me that, man, grant me this favour, man... And I'll hitch up my skirts for you." It matters not wether it is Brittany Spears writhing half-clad on a pole in a video, or blousey Mrs Spoonsbery smiling at the teaboy when she hasn't quite got enough small-change for a cuppa. It is the same. An implicit sexual transaction is made. They are so common, so everyday we don't even notice them anymore.
A prostitute's only real crime in the eyes of her fellow women is to actually go through with the deal. A one off quick-fix, at a bargain price.
And so the profession must be cheapened, despised, and those men who go voluntarily into a prostitutes' so-willing arms must also be castigated, heckled, brought low in the eyes of society.
Women have taught man to hate a whore. To compete, they had to. She is the enemy, the fifth columnist - She that offers womankind's most obvious bargaining-chip so cheaply, so free of conditions. And men, dogs that they are, pay that hatred lip-service, in the hopes of getting some lip-service.
