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Procreation

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March 15, 2006

As far as Nature's concerned, we have one purpose: procreation. Nature doesn't care how we do it-whether we impress women with big buildings or works of art or scads of money or beautiful poetry-all nature wants is that the sperm meets the egg and that the resulting female or male reach an age where he or she can repeat the entire operation: procreation.

To Nature, then, it's the gonads that matter. All that muscle and beauty and brains and ability to do calculus and play the zither is secondary to what you carry around between your legs. For men, you're basically a semen-delivery system. For women: you're the target. Our eyes and brains and arms and legs are all just the means for our gonads to get around and find another pair to mate with. It may sound cynical, but to nature, that's how it works. Survival isn't the key: it's procreation.

But if that's the case, why aren't we all out screwing like rabbits every chance we get? Well, if men designed the universe, we probably would be. But in fact, there's more to procreation than fertilization. There's the matter of keeping your offspring alive long enough that they can do it themselves. That's where women come in, and families, and her search for a responsible and caring mate that will see to the raising of her offspring, the things she calls "love." She gets choosey. She needs to be impressed. She has to be convinced you're the one.

So that's how we come to big buildings and works of art and scads of money and beautiful poetry. All in the search for procreation--the tension between sex and love.

Posted by rabbit at March 15, 2006 4:46 AM

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