1. The first thing we need to clarify is the terminology.

Making love is not to be confused with having sex. To make love is, as the phrase suggests, to make. To have sex is, conversely, to have. To have is to possess, and everyone knows that possession and love are nowhere to be found together.

Intercourse, fornication, and copulation are too clinical and pretentious; they lack emotional content and make one feel that you are just showing off your vocabulary. There’s nothing romantic about snobbery.

Sex sounds too Anglo-Saxon, even if it has a Romance etymology. We ought not to confuse the matter by getting obsessed with the facts. The truth is, sex doesn’t sound very nice, no matter how delicately you try to articulate it.

Humping and screwing are demeaning. It grieves us that we have to even mention them. Some people think these terms are cute and funny, but general consensus dictates otherwise. The former term might be appropriate for the sexual activities of dromedaries, but certainly not of homo sapiens, while the latter term is best reserved for specific acts of carpentry.

For brevity’s sake, we will dispense with a thorough technical discussion of: porking, poking, the horizontal bop, bonking, doing the wild thing, makin’ bacon, fooling around, going down and tumbling in the hay. These terms should be avoided. This is not a moral judgement, however – merely a recommendation.

2. When to make love.

The best time to make love is Saturday night between 9:30 and 10:00 p.m. The weekdays are problematic because of busy work schedules. No one has time nor energy. Friday night is worst of all because of the cumulative exhaustion of the work-week. Your best plan is to get as much sleep on Friday night as possible. Therefore: go straight to bed. Do not make love.

Saturday morning would be good, except that there are so many things to do. Think of all the bills that have to be paid, the errands that have to be run, the myriad of chores that have been neglected because you were too busy throughout the week to get around to them. When the alarm clock rings, you had best get right out of bed and get to it. Have your partner help. Tell him to think of dusting as fore-play. This will encourage him to be efficient and enthusiastic.

Note: make sure the bills are paid! Nothing causes coitus interruptus and similar sexual disfunction like the stress of financial debt. One gas bill alone could wreck everything.

If you are efficient and organized, you will have enough energy Saturday night for making love. Here are five questions you can ask yourself and your partner to be sure:

-Am I craving sleep continually?
-Am I listening to my inner child?
-Does my partner respect my needs no matter what, or am I being pressured somehow to do something I do not want to do?
-Do I typically fall asleep during lovemaking?
-Am I getting pleasure out of lovemaking, or am I merely fooling myself?

If you have determined that it is prudent to make love, we recommend the following: First, wait until your favorite television program is finished. If you make love during a half-hour block in which a program you do not like is being broadcasted, your mind will not be divided between love making and television watching. A one-half hour block ensures that you will have time to make love and also to finish any chores (such as dish-washing) that have accumulated throughout the day. Second, ensure that the answering machine is on so that you won’t need to answer calls. Resist the impulse to rush to the phone, even if you are experiencing a lull in the activities. Most calls are not urgent and can be followed up immediately after orgasm, if such an event occurs.

3. Let us proceed to the act itself.

We have established the following norms of lovemaking:

-the missionary position, man on top. Creativity leads to perversity, and besides, you work hard all week. Don’t complicate your life needlessly.

-the bedroom. We are told that the French make love throughout the house, and even prefer the bathroom. This seems unhygienic, and not entirely in good taste. We feel the bedroom was made for making love, and making love for the bedroom.

-since foreplay has more or less been merged with Saturday chores, you might as well get right down to business. It’s a busy world, and besides, you’ve been waiting all day. And no one waits all day for anything anymore.

-congratulate yourself and your partner when appropriate. Nothing is more important in today’s atmosphere of global competitiveness than to reward and to encourage excellence.

You can learn how:

– to lose twenty pounds
– to have more confidence
– to get a man
– to hold on to him
– to be a beauty queen
– to get into shape
– to be more desirable
– to make better love
– to love him more
– to love him less
– to reduce your stress
– to balance home and children and work
– to be the person you’ve always wanted to be.

It’s easy. Here’s how:

1 1 Sit down with a piece of paper and itemize your priorities; or better yet, use a computer–you’ll find that technology is a powerful tool. 2 Read this thoroughly and practice the helpful advice, using your computer to record your progress.

2 1 Learn the proper uses of medication. There are pills that will help you to lose weight, and pills that will reduce your stress and give you confidence. It is up to you to educate yourself regarding their uses–in consultation with an expert, naturally. 2 Watch television carefully. There will be advertisements directing you to the purchase of technologically-advanced equipment. Be comforted by the knowledge that there is a scientifically advanced product for your particular defect. 3  See your doctor. You may be surprised (and relieved) to find that your womb is the source of the problem. Medical specialists have a great deal of experience with such cases. The treatment is usually quite simple and takes little time to perform. 4 Learn the basic concepts. Co-dependency, dysfunction and hysteria are terms that will apply to you, for all have dysfunctions and fall short of the models of authorities. With the correct terminology at your disposal, you will be more able to seek the appropriate product or procedure as dictated by an expert.

3 1 Use your computer to aid you in the organization of your treatment schedule. Begin a file on your software; you may assign it any name up to eight letters in length, such as “HOLINESS,” “PURITY,” or “BODY.” Be organized: submit yourself to a ritual of daily entries, or you will not find yourself improving. 2 When you are cleansed of an offence such as a weight problem or a personal insufficiency of a sexual nature, count off seven days, after which you must visit an expert, taking an appropriate form of offering such as VISA® or MasterCard®. Keep careful track of your transactions by entering the data on your computer file. 3 Continue to purchase self-help guides such as magazines, books and computer software. The field is always changing as new discoveries alter the quest for female perfectibility. As always, seek an expert for guidance when purchasing a product or service.

4 1 Find a private place in which to work. You ought not to disturb others with your problems. Entries should be made in silence, far away from the important business that is being conducted by others.

Part One: He was born in poverty and darkness

He made a few mistakes in the beginning, because he was born in poverty and in darkness. I’ve selected, arranged, itemized and interpreted them for you.

-He fooled around a lot, sexually.

-He drank heavily.

-He used foul language.

Don’t look so discouraged. It gets better: you know that.

-He once shot his brother in the foot during an argument about money. Everyone thought it was an accident, but I know that the bastard meant to do it.

He was a bastard, all right. But he reformed. He’s a decent fellow now: I rather like him.

Part Two: He sees the light

Before we go any further, I ought to produce the relevant facts.

1. He was born 4 October 1939.

2. His father was a housepainter and an alcoholic. His mother made crafts. This accounts for our hero’s artistic propensities. He has become quite a clever writer.

3. His mother often read the Bible to him, although he didn’t get much out of it at first–that is, before he saw the light.

4. He had trouble with women. He married in 1962, but after only sixteen months of marriage his wife left him. That was 18 May 1964 at 3:27 p.m.

The car she left in was orange.

5. He liked Dixieland music, and he played his 78 r.p.m.s loud.

6. He shunned vinegar.

He was a bastard, but he saw the light. Let me tell you about it.

On 6 June 1964, 10:27 p.m., he was sitting in Sam’s diner, a white rectangular building on Queen street. If you go there today you’ll see it, although Sam is dead now and the name has changed. It’s the same place though. The very booth he was sitting in is still there.

Anyway, he was eating a clubhouse sandwich with fries. He had put salt on the fries, but not vinegar. Sam’s had the best clubhouse in those days. The bacon made all of the difference: it was crispy, but not dried out and charcoal-tasting.

He had just finished his dinner when he looked up and saw the headlights approach the front window of the diner. The light was blinding. He thought he was going to fall to his knees. He said to himself, God who are you? He eventually got up out of the booth, onto his feet, blinded. When his sight returned to him a minute later, he looked out of the window.

It was him, all right. You don’t forget a face like that, especially when it’s behind the headlights of an orange car.

Well, to make a long story into a short story, he walked up to the front door and waited for the man to come in. They looked one another in the eye, and our hero said, “Step out back.” So out back they go, and our hero gives the man a damn good beating, like no one in that town has ever been beaten before.

When our hero is done, he goes home, puts on a Dixieland 78 r.p.m., and opens up his Bible. He sees the words, eye for eye, tooth for tooth. He thought of those words, there in the restaurant.

Because he saw the light.

Part Three: A New Man

Yes sir, he was a bastard, that man. But you know the story: with age comes wisdom, understanding and contentment. He’s a new man now. I rather like him.

Did I mention he became quite a clever writer?

Everyone thinks they know the whole story. The most recent version I heard came to me in Washington, D.C., and goes like this:

He stole the fire from the gods and gave it to men. The gods weren’t too pleased, because they like having all the power to themselves. He was being insubordinate, radical, rebellious. The head god chained him to Caucasus for eternity. Every day an eagle came down from the skies and ate his blackened liver. Every day the liver grew back. That’s how this version ends, with him chained to a rock forever and with the bird coming every day for fresh liver.

There are other versions. Sometimes the bird is a vulture, sometimes a hawk. I heard someone insert a seagull once. That shows you how careless and irresponsible humans can be. Then there are the disagreements about the organ: “was it a liver? I was sure it was a gall bladder.”

The problem is, none of these humans were there. Of course, even if they had been, it wouldn’t make a difference. Human beings can’t be relied upon to get the facts straight. They mess around with everything, like children. They exaggerate, embellish, distort. They lie when it suits them. It’s a miracle they ever agree on anything. Of course, the usually don’t; they usually end up arguing and fighting.

Still, the basic idea is the same no matter who you talk to. Prometheus is the hero. The gods are tyrants, oppressive and cruel.

This however isn’t the case. When you know all of the facts, you’ll be able to make a more accurate judgement. Of course, you’re probably only human, so it won’t be completely accurate. You’ll need some guidance.

What no one has told you is what happened after he stole the fire.

People were fascinated by the new substance. They lost interest in reading and sat for hours and hours every day staring at fire. Their minds were rotting in their heads. Some of our statisticians tell us that the humans spent on average forty-two hours a week fire-watching. The fires gradually became bigger and more violent. People suffered burns from sitting too close. People paid less attention to one another. Families began to fall apart. Family values were undermined.

Someone discovered that you could ignite dehydrated plant leaves with fire and inhale the by-products of the incinerating material. For some reason completely beyond our comprehension, human beings found this pleasurable. You now call this activity “smoking.” It is both unhealthy and immoral, and it instantly became very popular.

The females experimented with fire in their food preparation. Rather than good, reliable meals such as nuts and berries and raw vegetables, they began to cook and eat the flesh of animals, introducing carcinogens into their diet. We feel it is immoral to eat meat.

Arson became rampant. The usefulness of fire in acts of crime was discovered and exploited, with deadly results.

Fire encouraged romantic behaviour, especially–to our alarm–between unmarried human beings. Not only did men engage in sexual activities with women, but there were also abominations committed between members of the same sex.

It’s no coincidence that we speak of the fires of lust. Fire led to immorality, perversity and unwholesomeness. We knew something had to be done. People were incapable of governing themselves; their thinking and behaviour needed to be directed, legislated. Our decision was intended for their benefit.

We believed that the only way to restore godliness was to make an example of this Prometheus, therefore we drafted a bill outlawing the giving of fire to human beings. The bill was retroactive, enabling us to persecute the criminal responsible for the decline of morality.

You should be able to see that our decision was the right one.

Unfortunately, fire had become so popular that we feared that there was to be no return to the days of decency. We felt that our only recourse was through law, and so we began to punish those who undermined Nature.

Recently, there has been blasphemous talk about the irrelevance of the gods, and some actually believe that we no longer exist. Nothing could be further from the truth. We are still active, although our activities are acknowledged less and less by men. We somehow underestimated the ineptitude of the human race, and the harm that men are able to do to themselves. But we are still acting upon the problem, and we are about to redouble our efforts on behalf of the honourable cause.

You’re fooling yourself.

The first sure indication that you are fooling yourself is that you begin to hide things. Look under your bed. Right now. I’ll wait for you here.

Well? What did you see? Come on, you can tell me. There’s no way it will ever get out. I don’t know your parents or your priest or your milkman.

You don’t have a milkman? See, that just shows you how little I know you. You’re safe with me. You can trust me.

So what did you see? Fear? Guilt? Loathing? Did you see that horrible lie you told to your mother when you were thirteen years old? We both know you were really having sex in the bushes behind the school. And you said you were helping a friend make oatmeal cookies for the annual senior elementary bake-sale. To raise money for charity.

Don’t ask me how I know all of these things. Let’s just say I’m omniscient.

Not quite like God. Well, a bit like God. I don’t have much of a body, either. God and I like to maintain a respectable distance from materiality, except when it suits us to do otherwise.

You think you know what I look like; you think you are following me along pretty good. But you’re fooling yourself. You’re not fooling God though. He sees every hidden thing, just like I do. And he casts judgement on the things that he sees.

But don’t worry. I won’t do that. I am objective. Sometimes I’ll be ironic, but that isn’t a judgement exactly. It’s more like a fun little game. You know, you try and figure out what I really mean. It’s all in the spirit of play.

Are you following along? Good. That wasn’t an ironic statement, by the way. I really do think it’s good that you are following along. I don’t know where I’d be without you. I don’t have much company. Once in a while someone comes along and drops in, usually just for a few minutes. I make some witty conversation, but people are usually in a hurry or tired, so they don’t pay very careful attention. Their eyelids get heavy and their eyes start to close, and by that point I don’t even want to bother. At first I thought it was me, but after a few times through I began to see and to understand more.

Now I am practically an expert in human nature. If you stay with me long enough, you’ll learn something from me, I promise.

You do trust me, don’t you? How often do people make a promise as wonderful as the one I’ve made? Just think of it: I could help you to understand human nature.

-What makes romance so difficult? –Human nature.

-Why do we hurt one another? –Human nature.

-Where is the secret key to social improvement and a perfect society? –Human nature.

-What is the cause of suffering? –Human nature.

I guess what I am saying is that you can have an easy, pain-free romance in a world where people are honest and happy and free. I didn’t say it was going to be easy, though. You have to read a lot of books to get there, and books are expensive. So you’ll need a lot of money. And free time. And patience. If it doesn’t work out right away like you thought it would, keep trying. You’re probably doing something wrong. You’ll figure it out, eventually. The secret is human nature. Once you’ve understood it, everything else falls into place.

I know what you’re saying. You want a perfect world now. You don’t have time to wait.

You’re in luck. I’ve got a deal for you. Not only am I going to tell you that the key to a perfect world is human nature, but I’m going to tell you what human nature is.

Are you ready? Are you sure?

Okay. Here it is then. Human nature.

Shit. I don’t seem to have it on me. I know I wrote it down. It was on a slip of white paper. In my wallet.

I must have hidden it somewhere.

At first we all said she was crazy.

“Eve, you remember now what God said about curses and thorns and the sweat of the brow. And what about the increased pains and the ‘he will rule over you’ bit?”

It didn’t matter. She wanted to have a baby. Several babies. Personally, I never cared much for Adam. He borrowed my car once, got drunk, and then smashed it up. He’s rude and he talks too loud. He tells disgusting sexist jokes and thinks he’s so funny. He’s never had a job. He grows drugs in his basement, talks big about some invention of his that’s going to make him rich. The dreamer. He takes Eve’s money and uses it to get drunk, then he becomes violent.

-What happened to your face Eve?

-Um. An apple fell from a tree and hit me.

That’s the second time she’s used that one. The first was just before they moved out of her house. She told me the eviction was all because of an apple. When the authorities came around to the house to ask questions, she told them the apple story too. All Adam had to say was, “The woman did it.” And they bought the whole thing. They even wrote it down in their little black book.

Adam isn’t even divorced from his first wife, Lillith. No one knows about her, he keeps it so secret. He has children with the woman, but he never offers any support, financial or otherwise. He just lies around the house during the day, and goes down to the Paradise Club at night. He spends Eve’s money on beer and strippers.

-Why’d you agree to live with him, Eve? Can’t you see he’s no good for you?

-He really isn’t that bad. You have to get to know him. He just has his own way. Besides, I love him.

I tried to talk sense into Eve, but it was no use.

-Why don’t you go back to school? Get a university degree? You could take up a career. You could be a landscape architectural engineer. You like gardens. We could get you some new clothes, a new image. You really are a beautiful woman, Eve. You ought to care for yourself better.

Adam and Eve are still together. No one says she’s crazy any more; everyone has accepted the fact that Eve is going to stay with this man no matter what. But it still grieves me to see the way she treats herself, and the way she allows herself to be treated. I remember the day she came to my house all excited, saying, “I’m gonna have a baby! I’m gonna have that baby!”

-That baby?

-Yeah. The baby I’ve always wanted to have. I’ve always wanted something of my own, something I could love, that would love me.

-That’s great Eve.

-And I’ve got the name picked out, too.