-- Walt Whitman
Lecherous profs have been around forever. Most often they are in the liberal arts, the tweed jacket with leather elbow patches, blue jeans and loafers type. I was not an English lit major but once an English lit prof overheard 19-year-old me yakking about how I enjoyed reading Henry Miller and liked Charles Bukowski's and Kenneth Rexroth's poetry.
Pow! He was on me like white on rice, or, since he was black, um...hmm...well, like some appropriate comparison that will come to me later.
That guy tried every which way to seduce me. Along with my literary interests I played the piano and through my enthusiasm for Maurice Ravel had developed an interest in Les Apaches and especially the pianist Ricardo Viñes, so this guy tried to snow me by pontificating about the music of that era, though it was immediately clear to me that he knew nothing about it.One time he said he was having a soirée at his home with a number of students and faculty and invited me to attend. Suspecting nothing, I went only to discover I was the only one there. Ushering me into his parlor wearing a bathrobe and slippers, he said the others were just running late....
Aaaand the rest of the story shall remain untold. Unless you buy me a drink. Um...better make it two....
Okay, okay, save your drinks, they would only make me barf anyway. Nothing happened. As my dad would say, I may have been born at night, but I was not born last night, so I got the picture right away, about faced and marched right out of there.
Speaking of Ravel, there's a well know anecdote recounting that when George Gershwin asked Ravel to give him composing lessons, Ravel said, “Why become a second-rate Ravel when you’re a first-rate Gershwin?”
Many have considered that a put-down by Ravel, which it was not at all. Gershwin asked Ravel this at a party in honor of soprano Eva Gauthier and in declining his request Ravel was basically saying that Gershwin should follow his own muse, as Gauthier had done.
The interaction between Gershwin and Ravel is quite interesting. According to Howard Pollack, author of George Gershwin: His Life and Work, there was a real aesthetic difference between the two that Ravel did not want to interfere with. Pollack described Ravel as the 
"References to BBC are actually quite common in ancient texts from the Mediterranean and the Middle East, including The Bible:Ezekial 23
Yet she became more and more promiscuous as she recalled the days when she was a prostitute in Egypt. There she lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses.
The Hebrews tended to use the terms 'Egypt' and 'Egyptians' in a loose sense to encompass Nubia and Nubians. The Egyptians were perceived as a dark-skinned Other."
~ Peter Frost
That Old Testament is something else, ain't it? All that incest, rape, family dysfunction, murder, depravity and genocide. But maybe it is just telling it like it was among semi-civilized tribes thousands of years ago. Not a lot different from what goes on in the boondocks of Afghanistan today, and probably a lot of other places as well. Cartel-controlled areas of Mexico, for example. Civilization is a thin veneer over barbarism and savagery that's hard to establish and harder to maintain. I much prefer the New Testament and don't pay a lot of attention to the Old. It's too alien. I don't relate to ancient middle easterners or their ways. I am much more comfortable with the Germanized Christianity (as defined by James Russell in The Germanization of Early Medieval Christianity) than I am with anything non-European.
But if you stripped me naked, tied me up and tickled me unmercifully while loudly playing The Tammys' "Egyptian Shumba," I would confess that I suspect all religions to be just plastic banana, phony baloney, good-time rock-and-roll. Whistling past the graveyard. But what do I know? I'm only a grassland hominid evolved into an apex predator with a brain too big for its own good.
And being tortured like that, I would confess to anything you wanted me to confess to. I would just John McCain it with my mental fingers crossed. Wouldn't you?
I do often suspect that God is a randy practical joker fond of slapstick humor and sick jokes. After all, He created human beings didn't He?
About the fixation on gigantic organic gamete injectors, I think that's a guy thing more than a gal thing, and has to do with dominance displays toward other males, as has been recorded among various species of monkey, and not toward females. For a female, the mind and how it is stimulated is vastly more important, at least to me, anyway (always have to be careful not to project! -- no pun intended). As with that English lit prof I wrote about above: I didn't care how big his Mr. Happy might have been, as far as I was concerned he was a creep. Make that a Creep with a capital "C." And that's all he was or ever would be.
"We need to start seeing the media as a bearded nut on the sidewalk,
shouting out false fears. It’s not sensible to listen to it."
~ Michael Crichton
“Consider the subtleness of the sea; how its most dreaded creatures glide under water, unapparent for the most part, and treacherously hidden beneath the loveliest tints of azure. Consider also the devilish brilliance and beauty of many of its most remorseless tribes, as the dainty embellished shape of many species of sharks. Consider, once more, the universal cannibalism of the sea; all whose creatures prey upon each other, carrying on eternal war since the world began.
― Herman Melville
