i love word derivation.
erotica comes from the greek "eros", the god of love.
porn comes from the greek "porne", the largest chariot parts distributor in athens.
the former is about hearts and the latter about parts.
this is the difference between women and men, hearts versus parts.
i will expore this more fully.
think about it.
what happens the first time sparks commence between a man and a woman?
the woman is all about violins, candle light, romance, long soft stares, hours of caressing-—you know, mushy heart stuff.
meanwhile, all the guy has on his mind is: "hope my part is big enough", "hope my part doesn't explode prematurely", "hope my part works long enough", "hope she helps me find her part", "hope I don't go in the wrong part", "hope she has part protection", "hope she gets those violinists out of here"—you know, chariot parts distribution stuff.
ya see, men like things to be simple and to the point.
it is a good match for our smaller, uncluttered brains.
hell, men can't even take the time to call it pornography.
it's a mouthful, so to speak.
so men call it porn.
it's a nice word, four letters, fits our predisposition for single syllable thoughts.
women, on the other hand, like things to take time.
they like words that sound romantic, and ... um ... italian.
like “erotica” for instance.
it’s longer, sorta rolls off the tongue and i suppose in xx chromosome circles much more romantic.
it all seems so ... so sexist.
i suppose it is, but what can i tell you.
men like parts, and they like them because for the most part they don't talk about their feelings—besides they usually come with cool diagrams and instructions!
men love instructions as long as they don't have to hear them.
when they hear instructions, they sound more like directions, which remind men of one or two things: their mothers and/or being lost.
men don't like to be reminded of their mothers during romance building.
and men don’t like being lost at anytime, romance building included.
so men prefer to read their instructions.
by the way, men would love women a lot more if women came with diagrams and instructions that men could read and study up on prior to spark commencement.
[a question: should men come with instructions? my inclination is that it is unnecessary, but if we did, they would be short, maybe a sentence or two, similar to instructions that might come with cup-o-soup for example. i'd like to hear from women on this.]
anyway, because of this difference (i.e., hearts versus parts), men and women are best served if they refrain from actually building things together, with the exception of the species.
the closest my parents came to divorce was not from rearing four boys, as a part of the species building responsibility.
it was from working on a stained glass, lampshade kit together.
within four hours dad was threatening to solder mom's mouth shut while she held a piece of pink glass to his testicles.
it was one of my uglier memories.
once, i tried to put a grill together with a woman.
she thought it would be a nice way to bond.
i had my doubts.
i was right.
it didn't go so well.
first, she insisted on saying we were "making a grill together".
women love to make things.
they make cookies.
they make beds.
they make babies.
they even make themselves up.
oh yeah, and they make love.
guys don't make love, they have sex, which is a short for putting parts together as efficiently as possible.
guys put things together, part by part.
back to the grill story.
i didn't have the energy to argue her inaccurate phrasing.
so i let her believe we were "making a grill together".
next, she started in on the instructions, asking "why" to every sentence.
i kept telling her, "um ... because it's um ... an instruction?"
i sensed her frustration was growing with every identical answer i gave to her repeated inquiries.
finally, after we completed the first page—we had twenty-two more to go, she wanted to stop and take a moment or two for me to share my feelings with her about our first page experience.
i answered, "i'm filled with guarded congeniality".
she soon left to "make" a phone call—i think it was for a taxi, if i remember correctly.
when i started this little piece, i wasn't sure where it was going to lead me.
now that i know, i think i'll stop here before i really say something i'll regret, although i suspect i let that horse it out of that barn a long time ago.
yeah, so there you go.
men versus women.
porn versus erotica.
bob’s contribution to the ongoing dialogue.