In Chicktography, Codes, husbands, life, Men, Uncategorized, wives, Women, Writing on July 10, 2014 at 12:24 am

It is somewhat debated among scholars—at least the ones who study such things—when the earliest forms of writing occurred. It seems that when the scientific community believes that they have discovered the beginning, an earlier form is uncovered. Of course all forms of writing seems to be predated by the use of numbers and pictures. However, all of this is irrelevant for that in which I elude. My point is, that as soon as mankind began to write, there also was a need formulate ways to keep the writing from being easily discoverable. It would seem as though man began to write on Monday, and began to formulate cryptography on Saturday.

Secrete codes have been utilized in every society, on every continent, in wartime and in peacetime for as long as we have been using written communication to exchange thought. Mankind has been a clever bunch.

However, there is a form of cryptography that predates them all, and has seemed to go practically unobserved by even the most well studied and devoted scholars. Interestingly enough, roughly half of our world population is so well versed in this obscure form of communication that it is truly like a second language, passed down from generation to generation through intuition and observation. The other half of the population is so ignorant to this form of communication, that in most cases, the attempt to decipher the true nature of the hidden encryption can cause short term—and on rare occasions irreversible—madness. This extraordinarily complex form of communication has been a long time fascination of mine. I have studied it for decades now, and despite years of intense observation and mental documentation, I am only marginally closer to understanding how it truly works. No, that’s not accurate; I have no clue at all how it works, only that it does indeed exists. I have, however, at least given it a name. I call it Chicktography.

Chicktography is the encrypted form of communication that women use—perhaps unconsciously—imbedded within all dialogue. The complexities of chicktography are vast, and these complexities are compounded by the fact that there is absolutely no consistency whatsoever. It would also seem that all members of the female gender seem to have some form of biological decryption device that allows them to communicate with each other unimpeded and with a lack of confusion as to the meaning to that in which they speak. The male gender is not equipped with this decoding device. Nor is there any written key that I am aware of. Additionally, I have discovered through years of trial and error that just because a woman is speaking, it does not mean that they are using code. Conversely, when she is speaking it does not mean that she isn’t.

For instance, I am notorious for being a night owl. I do some of my best writing at night. But I also read, or research some topic of interest, perhaps play the occasional video game or maybe watch some movie that my wife won’t let me watch while the children are awake. My reason for staying awake is irrelevant. The point is: my wife will ask a seemingly simple question… Or is it? I will hear her draw back the covers and slip into bed. The she will ask, “Babe, are you coming to bed?” And there you go. “Crap!” says my male brain, “what does that mean?”

I begin to analyze the tone, inflections, speed of the sentence and anything else I can think of. Did she pause slightly after the endearment, babe? How did she use the word? Was it soft and delicate? A motherly tone, soft and gentle, calming or persuasive. Like a request in itself, “Babe, I love you so much. I need you to do something for me.” Did it come out more like a bark? Like the tone she would use to scold the cat for climbing onto the counter. Perhaps there was a softening of the consonants in the word bed, opening up the possibility for a completely different interpretation of the meaning. Crap! Crap!

What is she really asking me here? Is she looking out for me, reminding me that I have an early morning, and it would be in my best interest to power down and get some much needed rest? Is she saying that she would really like to make love to her husband, provided that he isn’t too daft to figure it out? Perhaps she is telling me that the cotton is cooler than normal, and some additional body heat would be appreciated. Maybe it’s just a precursor sentence that actually requires an answer in order to ask a followup question.

Such as, “Babe, are you coming to bed?”
“Not yet.”
“Well I forgot to turn off the light. Could you turn it off for me?”

Or, “Babe, are you coming to bed?”
“Yes, I’m about to brush my teeth.”
“Okay, could you bring my phone when you come. I need to set my alarm.”

Or maybe she she’s just curious to know whether she is going to wake up to read a new blog post. She always gets to read them before you do. Seems only fair since she is the one who has to put up with me day in and day out.

At this point I’m beginning to think that I have over analyzed this whole situation. So I just roll the dice, power down the computer, or whatever it is, and go to bed. I slip into bed, and my wife says, “You didn’t have to stop writing, I just needed you to bring me my phone so I could set my alarm.” Or worse, I stay awake until the the early hours completing my writing, or finishing the movie or what have you, only to find her grouchy the next morning because I so clearly misread the perfectly obvious hints that she was dropping about the fact that she was really in the mood.

Stupid decoder ring… I got to get that thing in the shop.

I have often been just simply biting the bullet, and just asking if chicktography is being used in the communication that is taking place. “That wall just seems so empty,” she will say.
My response will be, “Baby, is that girl code for you wanting me to hang a picture, or move a mirror or something.”

If anyone out there has a code key for chicktography, or an improved decoder ring, or special glasses that will let me read between lines, or for that matter some device that will let me know when these lines that need to be read between are present, I will pay top dollar. After all, chicktography is the native tongue here in This World of Hurt.


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