To ourselves unknown

The march, or, if you will, the long, slow unfolding, of historical process over the last three or four thousand years, has been the anguished revelation of ourselves, to ourselves, of what we sexually dimorphic anthropoid apes with hypertrophied prefrontal cortices and out-sized penises actually are. We have, for example, but lately (say, the last twenty years) re-discovered, after a couple of millennia of officially not knowing, that we are, for the most part, bisexual--dimorphically bisexual in fact; but that does not mean, please you or no, that gay men are anything at all like Lesbians, except perhaps in politic and for political purposes. Gay Marriage is a hoot.

Apparently, the view from the top reveals, that, oddly, Aristophanes, for a joke, and Alfred Kinsey, by divine insight, had approximately the same perspective on and understanding of male sexuality--which is totally different from female sexuality, if, in the same sense, there can be said to be such a thing. Hail testosterone.