…in which Uncle Duke pokes and prods the
origins of sex.
When you think about it, this whole sex thing is really very odd. We’re talking about a lot more than just sperm and eggs here. There are biological, social, psychological, historical, political and religious ramifications. It’s a very involved subject. I don’t understand how something so elementary could become so convoluted. But boy, has it ever!
In biological terms, sex is about reproduction, about going out
and multiplying. And cell division is
actually the most efficient way of doing that. You just split yourself in two.
There is less stress on the organism.
It eliminates the need for locomotion, competition, singles bars, etc.,
all of which are energy intensive and expensive. And let’s face it, it is easier to tango alone. There are fewer variables, fewer
distractions.
In the real world, some primitive life forms still depend on
self-replication for perpetuation.
Bacteria, the most prevalent and successful life forms on the planet,
are among them. But when we reproduce
ourselves, there is little change occurring.
We make copies. We do not create
diversity. And the Universe invariably
favors diversity. So we have evolved to
reproduce by combining our gene pools with someone else’s. Genetic recombination. Shuffling the deck. This is the origin of sex. Nothing very complex there yet, eh?
Snails do it. Crabs do
it. Octopi do it. Even trees and shrubs do it. Sometimes it is romantic and gentle,
sometimes mechanical and awkward. Sometimes it is long and languorous, and
sometimes brief and violent.
There are so many forms of it.
Most fish simply ejaculate over the eggs that the female has laid,
casting their sperm upon the waters, as it were. Where’s the thrill in that?
Yet the male will posture, fight and even die for the opportunity. For arachnids such as black widows and
scorpions, the instinct to mate is apparently overwhelming. For the male it is often his final act--- a glorious
ending, I admit. And a romantic
gesture. But an ending nonetheless.
It seems pretty obvious how
sex evolved to be so pleasurable. That
thing which brings about perpetuation of the species had to be made
pleasurable. Those species for whom sex
was like drawing blood didn’t propagate long, or often, and subsequently died
out. On the other hand, it is likely
that those of our predecessors who enjoyed it the most did it the most. Although they wouldn’t have perhaps
understood it at the time, this would have led them to have more offsprings who
in turn would likely have enjoyed it more and therefore done it more...etc,
etc. Although there are other selection
factors involved, it is clear to me that those who were the best lovers would
tend to be our progenitors. Eh,
voila! We are the culmination of 1000’s
of generations of sexual and sensual refinement. Congratulations! You were
born to LOVE!
But the right to mate, with whom, and how often...Now the plot
thickens. Now is when we start thumping
our chests and driving fast cars. Now
is when we start to develop ornate plumage, style our hair and work on our abs
and pecs. Now it gets interesting. Or complicated. Depending I guess on your perspective.
This was all originally
about reproduction, about procreation.
Occasionally it remains so. But
a very unofficial poll on my part reveals that that is not often the case. The
Catholic Church tried to restrict the experience to intentional
procreation. They are still trying to
rebound. It’s one thing to ban meat on
Friday. It’s quite another to ban
recreational sex. The Pope stepped on
his scepter on that one.
It is without a doubt a
prime mover in our civilization, and in all previous civilizations. As far as I
can tell, as soon as our bellies are full and we are warm and dry, we begin
thinking about it. Not overtly
perhaps. Not every minute. But there are undercurrents in all we
do. Women paint and powder their faces,
perfume themselves and create cleavage where there was none before. Men wear gold chains and animal skins, ride
big phallic motorcycles and build big, phallic buildings. None of these things are done for
survival. Nor for spiritual
enlightenment. These are not religious
rituals. They are done to make us more
attractive, more desirable. These are
done for physical and sexual enhancement, pure and simple. Deny it if you will.
Sex evolved with the different organisms. Mating habits changed with the varying
species. And it is curious to me that
humans evolved to mate face-to-face.
Our primate ancestors (and all other mammals, as far as I know) evolved
using the rear entry method. At some
point we turned around to face each other, belly-to-belly. This was a momentous anthropological shift,
more than just 180 degrees. It seems to
me much more profound and consequential than the opposable thumb or the
development of tools. I suspect this
subtle little rotation led directly to the development of language. It seems clear that we developed language
and began to communicate in more complex ways in response to our sexual positioning. I personally believe we learned to speak so
we would have something to say to each other afterward. It is a delicate, transitional moment. We must rapidly change gears from wild and
guttural to sensitive and caring. It
can be awkward. This kind of intimacy
required something profound, something cerebral, something well thought
out. Even for comfortable partners, it
is a moment in which a beautiful experience can be spoiled by an inappropriate
comment.[1] It required language, so we made one up.
This is a big topic. TO BE
CONTINUED...
In response to this need, I have
written a book which I’ve titled 1001 Things to Say After You’ve Just Made
Love. It is for those occasions
when “Oh Wow!” or “Hubba Hubba” or “Whoops” just aren’t sufficient. It includes some Shakespeare, some French
phrases and some of my own personal favorites, such as “Shazam! I didn’t know you could get there from
here!” and “Holy Orgasm, Batwoman! Have
you ever thought of doing that for a living?”
It is now available in the Health and Novelty Section of most fine
public restrooms.
[1] In response to this need, I have written a book
which I’ve titled 1001 Things to Say After You’ve Just Made Love. It is for those occasions when “Oh Wow” or
“Hubba Hubba” or “Whoops” just aren’t sufficient. It includes some Shakespeare, some French phrases and some of my
own personal favorites, such as “Shazam!
I didn’t know you could get there from here!” and “Holy Orgasm, Bat
Woman! Have you ever thought of doing
that for a living?” It is now
available in the Health and Novelty
Section of most fine public restrooms