On Your knees....guys...on your knees!

On Your knees….guys…on your knees!

Link to Chapter 5

Chapter 6-Indecipherable codes.

By Chris Wilson

In the introduction we noted just how smart Mother nature has been when it comes round to building, accessorising, and populating the planet, but if you are going to undertake such a monumental task it soon becomes clear that any species must be able to speak with both a common language, and a language that is pitched at a level both the donor and recipient can hear. Mercifully such communication is not always conveyed by sound, if it were the world would be one heck of a noisy place, but whatever mechanism is used, common communication must occur. If this is so, then perhaps we should wonder why such an erudite mistress should create man, and then create an incomprehensible co dependent called woman. Possibly it was a form of revenge on her part. Maybe after watching men either deliberately or blindly trample over the minds and bodies of life all around him, she decided to teach him a lesson. If so what a lesson she decided to administer.

Give him a partner he will never understand, she might have reckoned, and then bind him to that partner for the end of his days. This seems rather unfair on the women, for though joined together for all eternity they seems to have had little say in such affairs, but what a way for nature to get her revenge.


This might sound harsh, but let’s look at how well the sexes actually communicate, both in a physical and verbal way. Have we have really learned anything or moved on from the Uggies, all those thousands of years ago. Lets begin with the first law of any species, the law of attraction and subsequent genetic transfer, what kind of a job do we do here.


When the Uggies were around it is probably fair to say that they both found such activities much easier to pursue than we do today. Linguistically things were certainly simpler, as older more natural languages probably held sway. It is true that, if so inclined, Uggie may have brought Mrs Uggie a bunch of wild flowers tastefully ensconced within a fern leaf, but she should have probably intimated that a wild boar or a deer would have been of more value. Never mind, love or lust was in the air so unfettered by the complexities of both modern language and political correctness, Uggie may have beaten his chest, roared out with animal passion, and then made his move as soon as his mate allowed him to. It was a simple method, if at times a trifle brutal or perfunctory, but practised world wide for many millennia, and under many guises, it had naturally worked well so why make any change. We need to remember though that we are discussing humans, so almost inevitably we have to reckon on things going wrong. It has been pointed out on many occasions that it is impossible to make a silk purse from a sow’s ear. This actually seems to be a blindingly obvious statement, but leaving such erudite considerations aside, such a maxim, in this particular context, seems to have held true. Why so, because we simply had to invent three things that still chain us down to this very day. We had to invent language and clothes, and principled morality, and in doing so we seem to have lost our natural freedom for all time.

The invention of clothing, and the desire to wear such articles presented us with our first problem. Although they were useful to protect us against the elements, and to cover up certain absurd looking bits of male anatomy, they have subsequently proved over the years to frustrate and potentially hinder the act of mating. In our more enlightened times such a practices are often called “the act of love”, whatever that ridiculous phrase may mean, but if we move up through the centuries we can see how such a problem became steadily worse. As first we adopted animal skins or loincloths, and this wasn’t too much of a problem as, apart from a very slight delay, it is affair to assume that mating could proceed with few interruptions. It did however set in motion a sense of unease as regards our bodily shape and function.

Gone were the days where everything was hung out to dry, and in came the days where you became consciously aware your body for the first time. For some individuals nothing changed. Utterly oblivious or indifferent to others around them, they carried on trotting around in the buff, callously ignoring the new trend sweeping the land, but for most of us an element of shyness and prudery crept into our minds, as did a degree of sexual reticence.  Quite simply we looked at our bodies and thought Oh dear! It wasn’t so bad for the girls, they knew they had something to shout about, but most guys looked at their own lower abdominal area and blushed at what they saw, while most girls, looking at such an area, simply began laughing before quietly walking away. When passive such an area looked pathetic, and if engorged it just looked absurd. Since that time excesses of fashion and prudery have waxed and waned and so it is we come up to our current time. Have we learnt anything over the centuries, and have we solved the riddle we encountered all those years go?

To a degree we have, but not quite as much as we might wish or desire. It is true that we have no moved on from the Victorian days of whale bone corsets, hops and crinolines, and it is true that our sexual awareness and freedom have significantly increased, but we still have certain problems. We are told at school that foreplay and intercourse are natural, easy, and utterly fulfilling for all parties concerned, and that there should be the same no shame as regards their pursuance once we are a little older. Our trouble is that we get older and find out what a pack of lies this generally turns out to be. For some of us of course intimacy is easy, and don’t they let us know all about it, but for most of us three grim realities stand before us. We are pretty hopeless when we begin, we are not much better as we carry on, and by the time we know what to do the damn mechanisms are getting too old for the job in hand. This may sound harsh, and of course we all know we are the world’s great lovers, but if we step back from such fantasy what lies before us then.

When we first start to get going we have to get past the hurdle of kissing. Most of us get there in the end of course but before we do we have one huge dilemma, it’s called the nose. Sticking out from our face like the rock of Gibraltar it kind of gets in the way, and not only that your potential partner has got one of the wretched things as well. Do you move it to you right or to your left and if you do so will your partners nose gently nestle by yours or will you both end up with a nose bleed lasting several days. Even if you solve this problem things don’t end there, as how are you going to synchronise lips, let alone tongues, or any other facial attachment. Put all this together and what do you get. Two bodies come close together and then, often eyes closed, comes a desperate and embarrassing first time fumble that seemingly solves nothing, and leaves both parties wondering just what the hell was going on. Mercifully prolonged practice often resolves such a problem, and very soon such a sequence pleasurably seems to go on for hours.

Then things get more serious. It’s bye bye lips and hello hips, and boy oh boy does the fun start then. If only we could live our lives as we see life in the films. If only we had the bodies to match, and the clothing that so easily slid of our own and our partners bodies. Finally what pleasure we would enjoy if only we could mutually perform with such grace, elegance, lack of prudery, and endurance. Regrettably such activities are very often not for real, and most of us live in a very different world indeed. If we go to a cinema, to ostensibly watch a film, what do we actually see?

How often do we see a guy’s arm casually resting around a girl’s shoulder, what an innocent scene this seems to be? Maybe she is cold, or in need of a little reassurance; or has he, or she, got some ulterior motive in mind. Of course they have, and there is nothing sweet and innocence about this particular move. They sit in silence, but their faces and bodies belt out a message for all to hear. Facially he seems totally absorbed by the film before him, and, to a lesser degree, she is in the same position. Both of their bodies seem strangely stiff however, apart from his gently moving fingers of course. He is after a different prey, and she knows it, he is after her bra. He feels her bra strap; she hesitates, and then moves slightly. His finger slips under the strap that then begins to slowly slide down her arm. Now here she has a choice. She can either stop him there or, by moving forward slightly, allow his hand to move down her back and onto the back of her bra. Let us assume that she allows him to reach that spot, has she any real worries there.

Very often she has none, as the bra is one of mans eternal mysteries, and one that he rarely solves. If you are a guy, you dream of swiftly, yet casually, unhooking a girls bra, and then, without her apparent knowledge, having a good feel as regards what lies within. You are told by your peers, and by both literature art and films around you that such an action is simplicity itself, but then you hit reality. The damn thing simply will not budge, and unless she actively gives you assistance, you really don’t stand much of a chance, especially as you only have one hand. Never mind the message of intent, from both parties, that has been sent and then gratefully received; her bra hooks will rarely give way. Let us move on to deeper levels of intimacy, do we deal with things any better then.

At times we do, especially if we are practised in the art of love or if we are so randy that nothing will stand in our way, but very often more problems occur. There is an old maxim that refers to the difficulty of being caught between to stools. Such an occurrence might be painful enough were it to actually happen but what if you were caught between even more tools, imaginer the discomfort then. When you are dressed several problems can occur before full, and possibly, terminal intimacy can occur. To begin with there are often too many buttons, zips, buckles or bows. Then there is old age prudery, and finally the occasional problem of what goes where, when, and how. So it is that a red faced, awkward, wrestling match can occur, often with the lights turned off so that any sense of shame and embarrassment can be kept within bounds. From here on in things go as nature intended and once the deed is done the couple, or whatever parties are involved generally separate and drop to one side. They often lie there like quivering jellyfish who, after having been carried too far up the beach on the incoming tide, no find themselves hopelessly and terminally stranded beyond all reach of rescue or repair. This is often not a pretty sight to behold, but at least, for the first time in this chapter, it does get them talking. The problem is that neither of them speaks a language that either can seemingly understand


The guy knows, as all guys know or at least will tell you, that he is a total and utter stud. He simply can’t help being both well endowed, and a grand master at intercourse, both just come naturally, as does the huge volume of incredibly virile sperm he has just pumped into her. So, job done, he lies back, and of course asks the inevitable question that she hears every time such activities occur

“How was that for you, did the earth move, and did the stars explode in the sky”

She smiles, and looks at him fondly.

  “Of course they did, and of course the earth moved. Oh you were wonderful!”

Ok guys; let’s get real for two minutes. Most of us are not studs, we are not that well endowed, and as regards our mastering of such natural arts, why most of us have barely left school. As regards our virility most of our pathetically small donation will get nowhere, and as regards all that moaning that she was doing; that certainly wasn’t for real. That might sound harsh and there may well be a couple of bruised male ego’s floating about, as well a few hopelessly lost sperm, but then it is not all the guys fault, the girls at time lead then on. .

From the early days of Kiss and Tell to the full-blown article and beyond women have at their disposal a power and a gift that few men can really ignore. Call it their body, call it their sexuality, call it whatever you will, women can, if they are allowed such freedom’s largely dominate and control their males. In doing so they can then play them as sweetly and as harmoniously as they would play a well-tuned harp. If they pluck certain strings us guys come running, but when we do, what do women do then. They call men; they entice them, and then begin to show then what might be on offer or possibly on sale. Then they smile and turn away leaving the guys hot, bothered, very excited and with nowhere to go. God bless you ladies, you are of the fairer sex, and very often very wise, but you do at times keep us guys dangling in thin air!

On with the show though, both parties are now up, dressed and running around doing the things that they would normally do. Do both sexes communicate any better now? The answer depends on how, where, and when, and how they are talking. If they are conversing at a professional business level or within the workplace then few problems occur, as if they are behaving properly, everyone knows the rules. It is true that men never really adjust when women come into work afflicted by a whole variety of female health issues, and it is true that, at times, discreet sexual dynamics come to the attention of one and all, but all in all life generally carries on in relative peace and harmony. Outside of work things begin to get complicated. It’s bad enough, as we have already seen, being in a casual or non-permanent relationship, as at least you can escape and move to pastures new, but the trouble really begins when such convenient avenues are denied. When you get married, or enter into a more permanent relationship, there is no escape, or at least such escape routes are harder and more expensive to find. In order look at how such communication works, or doesn’t work, lets go over to the guy involved, followed afterwards by his infinitely smarter, and allegedly better, other half. You cannot miss him. He is the one sitting in the sofa with his head held in his hands.

This guy is actually very happily married, and as been so for a number of years. He does have one problem though, his wife. She is a lovely woman and, between the sheets, he is unaware of any problems that might exist, but when they are out of such an environment she seems to speak a language that he simply cannot understand. It is almost that she has formulated some kind of a secret code, and now that the code has been fully formed, she has locked the damn codebook away and is refusing to give him the key. As such he finds himself with a series of problems. The first thing she always does is that she will insist on interfering and giving what she terms good advice when he simply wants to be left alone. All he wants to do is to go into his cave, have a good think, then come out with an answer that will work for both of them.

What he doesn’t need is for her to empathise with him, and to pester him with unwanted ideas and caps of tea. Then of course she moans that he never listens to her, especially about how she feels, and how he never understands what she is saying. Now our poor sap really gets annoyed about this as he cannot help but listen to her, as she is wittering on and moaning all the time. It’s just that she will involve him in things that are utterly irrelevant, like cushions, curtains, or the latest colourants of hair, and as regards understanding her, how on earth can he do so when she is either speaking in an indecipherable code or, even worse, saying nothing at all. Finally, and most annoyingly, she seems to wilfully misunderstand or get annoyed by perfectly sensible replies that he offers to her statements or questions. She will clearly express information about a situation, and seemingly demand a similar down to earth response. He gives that response only to have a cushion or a teapot thrown at him, it really is quite unnerving as the cushion is always lumpy, the teapot is always full, and invariably he finds himself at a complete loss as to how he should respond. Why then is he still with her, and more pertinently, what is he doing with his head in his hands?

If you were able to enter his mind he would soon tell you why. He his still with her as he believes in marriage and loves her with all his heart, but though he feels that way he has to admit that, at times, just like now, she can be impossible. Two weeks ago she booked a table for a meal with two of their closest friends, which he will have to pay for. She has picked a date and a time that means a busy working day has been wrecked and he has had to cancel two important meetings, while she has been off all day, and guess what, she still isn’t ready on time! All morning she was out shopping for a new handbag and a pair of shoes; all afternoon it was a facial and a hair do. Since then she has paraded in front of him in a ridiculous number of slim black dresses, all of which, to his untutored eye, seem exactly the same. This would be fine as he enjoys looking at his figure but now he is fed up, tired and not a little panicky. They need to leave home in half an hour, and she is still having a bath and nattering away on the phone. As regards getting ready nothing seems to be happening, why so far she’s not even done her nails. As far as he is concerned it is always the same. There he is dressed and bound up like the Sunday roast while she is never ever ready on time.  He feels even worse when he looks out of the window and sees the half finished Patio he was meant to complete over a week ago. He didn’t even want the damn thing in the first place but no, according to Sue, it simply had to be done.

Ok that’s his side of the story, now what of his ever beloved, what message does she have to convey. Unbeknown to him she has actually been ready all the time, but she wants to make him sweat due to an unforgivable lapse in marital attention. It is true that she asked ordered him to do the patio, and it is equally true that he not only had to pay for all the materials, but also get it ready in a record time; but during this time, as far as she is concerned, he has been ignoring her. Now it is time for him to pay over and over again. As far as she is concerned the problem is very simple, he simply doesn’t understand her, and at times it seems he can’t even be bothered to try.

So it is that she is sitting in the bathroom chair having a chat with her friend that she is due to dine with later on. Her friend is punishing her husband in exactly the same way as she is, and both know they have at least half an hour to spare. They know that their husbands will never understand about the finer things in life such as shoes, dresses, handbags, and they forgive them for this stylish indiscretion, as they are too thick, too stupid, and too dumb at times to ever understand such matters of intuitive feminine style. Lapses in attention are different though, both husbands could at least make an effort, quite frankly they might at least give it a try.

It’s not all bad though as, luckily for Bob, she also believes that they have a good marriage, although life between the bedposts could certainly be better. She does have a couple of problems though. She thinks her husband is a smashing guy, but at times he really is very dim. For start he will keep on shutting himself away when he has got a problem, and even when she offers him a perfectly sensible solution, or even a shoulder to cry on, he just gets annoyed and pushes her away. She brings him tea, solace and biscuits, and all she gets in return is a grunt and a glare. Secondly she cannot get him interested in furnishing the house, especially when it comes to colour co-ordination and soft furnishings.

All he wants to talk about are cars, D.I.Y. and, of course football. She has tried numerous devices to correct such deviationist tendencies, including trips to the Ikea and numerous other home furnishing stores, but all to no avail. Finally, and most annoyingly he will insist on giving her solutions to problems she is facing, or factual information when no such reply is needed or desired. When she has got something to get of her chest she simply wants him to listen and empathise. She is eloquent in her delivery, she offers similes, metaphors, and a host of other linguistic variations but she might as well talk to a dead herring. He offers solutions, loads of the wretched things, and there is no empathising and no understanding at all; it really is very frustrating. So much so that the cushions and crockery begin to fly. She has given him the code by which he can help her, both verbally and physically, it is clearly understandable, yet still this problem will not go away.

 Of course this is not the same picture for everybody, and of course such problems can be avoided or resolved, but such a mirror image shows just how different men and women often are, and how communication can be so hard. What we have to remember though is that, so far, we have been looking at ordinary day-to-day life and at relatively simple encoded messages. How do such encryptions operate under more difficult conditions? What happens when a woman trusses up a man and serves him up, hot or cold, on a platter for her family and, at times, the whole world to see? This is where we enter the world of birthdays, anniversary celebrations, and high days and holy days. What a magnificent occasions these turns out to be!

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