For those of you unfamiliar with the tale, Tiresias was a poet/philosopher in the time of Ancient Greece. One day, Tiresias was wandering through the forest pondering life, liberty and the pursuit of lesbians. Tiresias was well known to have had a roving eye, and the latest object of his affection was an up and coming poet by the name of Sappho whom he had seen at a poetry recital only three days before. Lost in his thoughts, he considered his tried and true methods of seduction, (Tiresias was the first man recorded to have actually asked a woman her sign, and the first to have offered to show a woman his interesting and rather expansive collection of erotic etchings,) Tiresias almost stepped atop two snakes in a rather compromising situation.
Stunned, and a little sickened by the copulating snakes, Tiresias took his walking stick, and with great delicacy, slipped it in between the pair and separated them. The snakes, miffed at the interruption, slithered off into the brush, presumably a snake motel, in order to finish their pleasure. Tiresias continued on his way, his mind back on the subject of how to lure Sappho into his bed. After racking his brains to no avail, the poor man realized that the only way that he would even have a chance with the literate beauty, was if he were a woman. 'If only,' he thought, plaintively, desperately, 'I could be a woman, then I could catch her eye, then I could entice her affections, only then could I taste of her fragrant honeysuckle.' Frustrated, Tiresias made his way home, never noticing that in the last hour and a half that he had grown breasts.
Tiresias stumbled from her cottage ten days later, a little tired, a little sore, with a distinctive glow and an extremely satisfied smile upon her face. It must be remembered that until this point, Tiresias had been a man, she still had a male mentality, and so like all men, wanted to play with her new toy.
Sappho never had a chance.
A few years later, a few years wiser, Tiresias was puttering through the same woods, singing of the body Electra. She had broken up with Sappho years before, and after many fruitful and scintillating relationships, had come to a quandary. Electra was a beautiful, charming, invigorating woman. There was only one problem-she was unrelentingly straight. Tiresias was lost, for there was no way that she could share the love-well really the lust-that she felt for the stunning Electra, with said, stunning Electra. At least, not since she had foregone Mr. Happy years before for Ms Just Dandy. 'Oh woe,' our heroine cried, 'I shall never know the love, never know the beauty, never know the, dare I say it, electric touch of fair Electra....' Tiresias stopped dead in her tracks. A slow, calculating smile crossed her face.
There, in the middle of the path, just before her, were two, count them two, snakes, who were, as she stood there, engaged in a rather exhibitionist display of affection. With the care of a poet, the wisdom of a philosopher, and a lust that would have given Caligula testosterone poisoning, Tiresias slipped her walking stick between the two and broke up their summer of love. Cackling madly, Tiresias tore at the hem of his robe, and discovered hidden in its depths, that his peripatetic member had once more returned. The poet turned on his heel, and sped off towards his cottage, never noticing the snakes biting at his ankles.
Tiresias wasn't seen again until a fortnight had passed, a little tired, just a bit sore, a twinkle in his eye, and an incredibly goofy grin plastered on his face.
Electra never saw him coming. Well, not never. But not for a very long time.
Our tale of the only person to ever truly earn the right to be termed bisexual reached a rather surprising conclusion a few years later. There are two differing versions of the story, but the ends are the same. One school of thought holds that Tiresias came upon Athena, the virgin goddess bathing one rather crisp and bright autumn morning. After watching her for about a half an hour, when she acrobatically attempted to wash her back, he stumbled stiff leggedly, from his hiding place, and offered to loofa. Taken aback that a man had seen her naked, she struck him blind. A bit harsh, but you know how a goddess can get sometimes. Then in a fit of remorse, she gave him the gift of second sight, so that he wouldn't have to go through life blind.
The other school of thought regales that Hera and Zeus were having a lover's spat one day over the fact that he never paid attention to her needs, and that she was an overdemanding lover. It developed into an argument over who enjoyed sex more, the man or the woman. Neither one would give in, so they sought out the other gods of Olympus and asked them. The battle of the sexes raged on, having reached an all time high on the rocky slopes of Olympus. Finally, Hermes who had tired of the entire thing, suggested to the royal couple that they call in Tiresias, the only person who had been both genders.
Tiresias appeared at the throne of Zeus, and the throne of Hera as he had been bidden. A smirking Eros (who had been making a killing in the fletching business for years due to Tiresias' rakish ways) laid out the problem that had plagued the gods so. Tiresias, without skipping a beat, without even batting an eye said, 'Who enjoys sex more, the man or the woman? Why the woman does, nine times more than the man.' Hera, often a sore loser, and rarely a gracious winner, struck Tiresias blind, then stormed off in a rage. Zeus in gratitude for his honesty, and as a form of recompense for his new affliction, gifted him with second sight.
Was this the end of Tiresias' philandering ways? No one is really sure. It's rumored that he painted his walking stick white, and became a leading prophet for his day. But there are those who whisper in the quiet corners of singles bars, the shadowing edges of hot tubs, in the secluded spaces of swingers clubs, that Tiresias went on. And there are stories that every so often you would see Tiresias slipping quietly into the woods, his white walking stick clicking his way before him, and coming back in the evening with a better sex change than the leading Swiss urologist could ever achieve.
And the moral of the story? Don't masturbate or you might go blind.
It just goes to show that there really is such a thing as a male lesbian. And on that note, for those male inhabitants of the island of Mytelene, you should remember – just because you live on the legendary Isle of Lesbos, doesn't mean that you should forget that the capital is, to this very day, known as Kastros.
Personally, I'm just looking for a pair of snakes. As pets. Really.
Martin Hackett