Life is like the defense of Zion in the Matrix.
Men are like the combat battle suits. They step out in public and wear an oversized ego and attitude. They require a squad of lowly peons to run around and keep them well supplied. Sometimes the lowly peons get squished.
Women are like the machines (Freudian slip? lol). They pour out of the womb in a frenzied, social, utterly banal and amoral mass.
In the Matrix, the defenders concentrate their heavy weapon fire on the drill hole. The machines are shredded into detritus as they emerge. No one can tell what they are targeting; they simply blaze away at a small point. They have no choice and cannot divert their firepower to carefully aim. They know they will be more effective targeting the one point where the machines emerge. The lowly foot soldiers get to clean up the refuse. They run around and zap the scrapped machines with their low-voltage electric gun juice.
In life, men concentrate their flesh cannon fire on the tight holes. As girls pop from the womb, masses of men target them with concentrated cock-fire. Men from 16 to 66 are aiming at the same holes; their biologically driven urges leave them no choice. Faster than most men can comprehend, women are shredded by the relentless onslut. They trickle out of their prime years as human detritus. Lowly betas get to clean up the refuse. They run around and zap the women with low voltage juice.
Meanwhile, the alpha males reminisce about the days when they were the One, and life was an illusion. They got unplugged from the Matrix after leaving the college football team. They latch on to a Trinity who is
supposedlynot like the other women. They go down in a flagellatory blaze of excruciatingly lonely glory as their Trinities metaphorically die to vainglorious sloth, pride, and gluttony.