Going back at least as far as Alexander the Great, who left Macedonia in search of “adventure” the great political changes in history have all essentially been Big Man pissing contests — that is, they have been initiated by macho leaders wanting to test their powers, not their powers to do either good or evil but just their powers : to piss farther than their competitors. Alexander didn’t set off the rule the world because he thought the Greek Way would improve men’s lives; he wanted to outdo his father, Philip. That was a pissing contest in the family. We don’t know much about the motives of Genghis Khan and some other famous conquerors, because there was no Twitter in those days — no #History. Donald Trump is so far the first to put it in fully unmistakable terms. He has openly bragged about the size of his penis, which is about as obvious as it can get.

Pissing is not a heroic art. It is, of course, necessary if one is to have a healthy life, but it has nothing to do with Francis Fukuyama’s ideas about finding the most equitable way of governing. It is purely a display of prowess, and only in the form of a very specialized talent, like being able to wiggle one’s ears or twirl two tassels at once in opposite directions. Nevertheless, it is accepted in teen-age male circles as a test of manliness, and manliness is generally accepted (at least by men) as a desirable characteristic. Success at it is admired by historians, who are mostly men. Battle scenes — the ultimate forms of masculine competitiveness — go all the way back before Alexander. In literature (the Iliad), in sculpture (the bas reliefs on the great gates of ancient Persia), in the wall paintings of wars in ancient Egypt between the white hats (the Egyptians) and the black hats (the Hittites). These contests could involve thousands of contestants, or sometimes just two, like David and Goliath, but they always boil down to the desire of somebody to demonstrate his ability to out-piss an opponent.

What’s the point of all this? Why can’t we just let be? From whence comes this desire to be bigger, more powerful, more domineering than the next guy? Sometimes we make up pseudo-social reasons — a need for lebensraum, a need to get rid of Jewish bankers and steal (back) their money, a need to return Mother Russia to her ancient glory, a need to establish that our God is more powerful than your God (my dad can lick your dad), or a need to establish our Messiah is more of a messiah than your messiah (Mohammad versus Jesus) — but the basic itch is the old Alexandrian one. Let’s just put it to the test. Alexander had more resources with which to make his point than most modern troublemakers have.

But what’s the inevitable result? Somebody wins; somebody loses. The Hittite ruler had to grovel before the Egyptian Pharaoh in chains, the Roman emperor had to abase himself before the Persian conqueror, Hitler got to ride his open Duesenberg up the Champs de Lycée to the Arc de Triomphe (although he declined to ride through it, knowing that that would diminish the symbolism of its being the culture capital of the world culture that he was conquering), MacArthur got to chew his corncob in the emperor’s palace. But now Persia is a memory, Hitler’s Germany is trying desperately to save the EU, and MacArthur is a name barely recognized by today’s high-school students. Ozymandas must surely have been a strong pisser, but we can’t remember what he did except model for a statue that ultimately fell down and was covered by windblown sand. (To be excavated in 2016 by archeologists who are not even sure if he was real.)

So it will be with Trump. He will win, or he will lose, and his accomplishments, if he has any, will be finally overshadowed by those of his successors, but he will have the distinction of having been the first to be publicly and openly honest about his motive. Unless you think that Anthony Weiner beat him to it. His comb-over, his suntan spray, and his genital braggadocio will soon be forgotten. (Although he may of course succeed in touching off a nuclear war that will effectively erase all human history, including his own contribution, in which case he will have won the pissing contest but still be forgotten because there will be nobody left to remember.)

Did those of these determined gentlemen who succeeded in living into old age finally have to get up like all the rest of us three times a night to for relief? It consoles me to think so.