Nature, biological division, is a lot about deception.

The male peacock with his feathers and strutting is the Liberace of the bird world, except he can’t play a note. Camouflage exists to make you think something isn’t there when it is. Even our own genes have coerced we humans into procreating by making us think we’re in love…”at first sight.”

That, dear friend, is not love. That’s your genetic makeup working around the fact that to perpetuate itself, it requires you to have sex. Because genes cannot go to the DNA bar to pick up some cute double-helix action on their own, we must do the work for them. Hence the entire mechanism of sexual attraction from soup to nuts –  sorry, I meant smiles to orgasm.

Face it: we are but a vehicle for our deepest molecular structure. And we are not the driver.

Which is why we resist knowledge about how we work. Nature has programmed us to believe we’re desperately in love with someone (basically a stranger) even if it’s for a single purpose. It all seems so real, so permanent, so right, right?

The spectacular triumph of being human is that we have been able to figure out nature’s game. Our understanding of nature’s power is pretty darn good, and increasing all the time.

What is less spectacular is acceptance and assimilation of this knowledge. We need a new vocabulary and more determined self-education if we’re to control ourselves even a little bit. It can be done, but only if we make the effort to question, a choice nature does not want us making. And nature pretty much always wins.

You see the problem now.

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