I’m swooning over my new read, How to Succeed with Women. I’ve read *plenty* of books on the intricacies of sex: how to books on flirting, kissing, fucking; philosophy and essays on love and sex; books on manipulation that made me sick, on personal development that changed me, and on how the genders interact that still befuddle me. But books that are ethical and pragmatic and thorough are rare, and I think this is one such, but it’s so “dense to act on” that I’ve only dipped my feet in.

This kind of book demands to be more than the week’s lean-back recreation. The sexual world goes so deep, and holds such incredible excellence. I think you can learn about sex relations your whole life and still be surprised by every turn. The creative, ethical, and stylistic expertise possible makes it like a second career, with ever more responsibilities and privileges. It’s an alien world to me, who never gave sex a third thought before four years ago, but it’s one I want to immerse in.

I’m waffling over the consequences, though. Some days, I think of everything I can give to others and learn for myself, and I just want to get as many people as possible to play sexual games with me. But then, I think of all the good time I spend with girls as friends, and I hear about all the ways guys make a nuisance of themselves. I know I’m a lot better at being chaste– I can make more people happy and fewer hurt if my gender stays out of it. And there are no gentle paths in there.

Err, um, not that I can think of too many people I’ve hurt recently (If you beg to differ, kick me or something so I realize). But if practicing my drums gets on your nerves, I’ll always be happy to play elsewhere.