Women are just so vocal these days, it can be more of a nuisance than ever to attempt to engage with them. That’s why necrophilia is an increasingly viable option for “men,” even the ones who didn’t grow up with “Mary Jane’s Last Dance” being played in heavy rotation on MTV. But the “men” who resort to necrophilia, in truth, are the most misogynistic of them all.
Honestly, what kind of person, regardless of appendage attached or not attached to their body, gets off on the so-called delight of being able to verbally and physically abuse a body that can’t fight back? Sure, it’s easy–uncomplicated–to tool around with a corpse you can do whatever you want with (or to), but doesn’t it get boring, being “right” all the time? Having no one to verbally spar with or challenge your views, thoughts and feelings? The “man” content to spend his days with an inanimate shell is, well, probably a serial killer (yes, talking to you, Dahmer) and/or a “man” who simply can’t get any woman to be interested in him due to his bland personality and likely corresponding looks. Is that any reason to punish the dead for the living’s ability to engage in one of the only universal luxuries that money can’t affect: free will? Well, just ask Frankenstein, emblem of homoerotic necromancy and according manipulation.