Sex is a social bargain, formed by Evolution. Men agree to behave in certain ways in order to have access to it. Women, who need fathers for their children, are prepared to give that access, as long as men behave in certain approved manners.
However, men’s need for sex is in their need to orgasm, as women have so often pointed out. If they can do that without women, then much of the need to bargain with them vanishes. This is because, while Evolution requires that we reproduce, for men, this is largely felt as a desire to have a lot of orgasms by penetration. Men do not have the visceral connection between the act of sex and the arrival of a baby that women do. For men, babies really could be delivered by the storks.
This unquestionably leads men to have a somewhat cavalier attitude towards sex — they’ll take it wherever they can get it — but it has also caused women to bolster the social bargain that keeps their behaviour moderate. Principally, this was through marriage, an arrangement whereby a woman only has sex with one man. In this way, he knows whom his own children are, something he otherwise could not. So the bargain becomes sexual exclusivity in exchange for heredity.
After a little while in the violin world, I know you will have seen this reaction: you have just gone into your friendly music shop and said, “My fiddle needs a new bridge. Can you sell me one?” You are shocked as the light outside dims, the interior of the shop becomes gloomy and the owner, in a voice that would render the bravest heart weak, intones, “You must never, ever, attempt to do any work on your violin yourself. Oh no. That is for the luthier to do. Now get ye hence and practise your scales.” And he refuses to sell you a bridge blank and you scuttle off with your tail between your legs thinking that everyone else in the shop must now consider you an uneducated oaf.
Prostitution is, they say, ‘the oldest profession in the world’ and, as far as the historical record goes, it’s at least close to being so. The first mention of prostitution that we know of was 5,500 years ago, in the city of Uruk, in Sumer in Mesopotamia, where priestesses in the Temple of Inanna performed this service.
The religious connection with prostitution, of course, is one that has long since been lost — though we might discuss it in another piece; yet of course, the practice continues. Until recently, in fact, the major push to suppress prostitution was itself religious, coming from, in particular the Protestant Christian traditions and notably the Anglican one, which has always been a pillar of sex-negativity and repression.
Of recent decades, however, the attempt to prevent women from engaging in prostitution has come from other women. Indeed, it has become a bastion of modern feminism. But this throws up a thorny moral question: do we or do we not have the right to do as we will with our own bodies?
Not for the French the quaint Anglo-Saxon habit of neighbouring towns staggering their half-days—or even taking half-days in the first place.
On Monday, the whole of France is as dead as that chap they poisoned on St Helena. You know the one. In fact, I think he was responsible for it. And of course, the reason is quite fair; all the shops are open on Saturday so that the people who don’t work in shops can do their shopping, and why should the commercants and their staff not enjoy a proper two-day weekend?
“No,” I cried, and summoned up the best of my then limited French, “Cas d’urgence!”
But this made no impression on the battle-axe, who shook her head again, pointed to her watch and mouthed “Quattors heures et demi.” Whatever my emergency was, it would h
ave to wait another 150 minutes.
Aghast as she began to turn away again, and now completely at a loss for words, I was once again reminded of the sheer brilliance of my wife in situations like this. Knowing that she could not hope to plead her case in French, she had slipped over to the car, unstrapped Calum, and now appeared with him in her arms; when she knew she had the dame’s attention, she lowered the towel wrapped around him to show the lad’s bare bottom, and just said one of the few French words she knew by heart, because she needed it so often. “Couches!”
Transsexuals are people born male who are attracted from childhood to men, who then change their physical appearance to more closely resemble women. (This phenomenon occurs in females, in reverse, but that is not the subject here.) Transsexuals are naturally extremely feminine in appearance, comportment and other factors, as I have discussed elsewhere and for them, being masculine is difficult. They find life easier as women and the deciding factor in whether or not to transition is often ‘Will I pass convincingly as a woman’. People like this know that straight men are attracted to women, not to other men, and their desire is always to be the submissive sexual partner of such a man. Depending on the level of social intolerance they have to face, if they think they can be more successful as women than as men, they will follow that path.
Women always think in terms of power. When they decorate a home they are showing their power within their space. When they outlaw masculinity and masculine behaviour, they are exercising power.
Men think in terms of targets and things rather than power. That is why a man gets irritated when his wife interferes with his prized model collection. It’s also why men ‘objectify’ women. Men objectify everything, there is no need to feel it’s special treatment.
Men, innately, seek to achieve targets and to acquire things as measures of status with which they can persuade women to give up what they want, which is sex. Women see their power over that sex as the means by which they can control the individual man they might be partnered with, but also the broader society.
My plan had originally been to make my trip to Asia after Christmas, but Crissy had told me that she was unlikely to be available then. I was in contact with a number of girls, but only she had that spark, and I knew I wanted to meet her. She was lively and enthusiastic, but had an edge about her and a depth too, that I liked. She had a way of just knowing what I was thinking, even before I said it, that always bodes well for a new relationship.
So I rearranged my schedule. In fact, November is the best time to go to southeast Asia in any case. The typhoon season should have come to an end, and the temperatures are relatively low, with lots of sunshine. In addition, flight prices are twenty per cent or so cheaper then, than in March or April. I readily persuaded myself that making the trip sooner was justified on a whole raft of counts; other, of course, than my interest in getting to know Crissy a whole lot better…
Guest Author Amanda Grimes discusses trans activism and the risks it may present for young people.
This article is a collection of my own thoughts and opinions, formed from my experience as a transsexual woman who transitioned over 30 years ago. In that time I have experienced life, as a woman, with few, if any, knowing about my past. I am married to a man and have had a long and very successful professional career. I transitioned at a time when the world was not quite the fluffy accepting place it appears to be today and in reality while laws have changed, society, especially the behaviours of the genders within it is not really that different now than it was then.
There currently is what seems to be an inexorable move towards the acceptance of “Transgender” people within Western societies. So much so that there is almost an air of hysteria around the condition, which seems almost cult like in some quarters, and has led to the blind acceptance of anyone who presents the slightest non-conformity with their traditional gender role as being transgender. Continue reading “Trans activism can be harmful”
One thing the guidebooks never bother to tell you about France is also one of the most important of all that you should know. In fact this piece of information is so important that my imparting it to you, as I am about to do, is worth the price of the book of all this. So perhaps, if you’ve borrowed this from a friend, you should skip to the next chapter right now. (I jest.)
So what is this invaluable knowledge that no-one should travel in France without first having assimilated? Just this:
Everything Shuts At Twelve. For Two Hours. At Least.
That’s it. Outside of the major metropolitan cities like Paris and Lyon, and maybe even Marseilles these days, if you ain’t got whatever it is you were looking for by the time the midi rings, you can forget getting it until two o’clock at the earliest.
Believe me, you will not be in France long before you realise how much this immutable chronology affects life.