In just a matter of a few years we have taken the likes of male enhancement products, vibrators, exotic lubricants, dildos, and porn movies from dark closets to the feeding frenzy of the masses. It seems sex and love are now considered one and the same. Chemical attraction, instant gratification, satisfying the need and doing the deed -- all now is synonymous with true love. What was once considered a mysterious blend of affection, romance, and sexual desire has been openly denigrated to physics and mechanics.
Does this give Valentines Day new meaning? Cupid seems to be a comical figure used to represent love in the 21st century. Who needs a prick from an arrow of desire these days? The arrow of the son of Venus has been replaced by the Trojan Twister and the "closeness" of the Thyn line of almost bare condoms. Sex talk is graphic and centered on the mutual physical act with no holds barred. Maybe we should just give Ron Jeremy a set of wings and let him spread his own brand of Valentine romance in advertisements.
Now, don't get me wrong. I believe the sexual revolution and liberation have done a lot of good. For scores of decades, Puritan values have repressed free expression and condemned natural sex as "the original sin." I believe sex is beautiful. But, every time I see so many sexually related products freely advertised on commercials in time slots when children surely watch, I'm a little ashamed of the advance of the intimate insurgency. I can hear the innocent question in my mind: "Mommy, how does that Twister thing blow back your and Daddy's hair like that?"
Lately, I feel so obligated to keep up my libido and extend my package that I am beginning to feel sorry I must endure the modest equipment and aging hormones with which I was born. Enough is enough! Yes, I am fully aware that I should see a doctor if I ever "suffer" with a four hour erection. If I ever do have that problem, I'm sure as hell going to worry about the outcome.
Maybe I'm wrong, but I believe growing old should involve a little grace and tender consideration. If you don't believe that, just picture Grandpa and Grandma in the bedroom using all the latest tools of the sexual trade. I ask you, "Is that a pretty picture?" Uh, huh... admit your disgust.
Repressive desublimation is a term first coined by philosopher and sociologist Herbert Marcuse in his 1964 work One-Dimensional Man. The term refers to the way in which, in advanced capitalism, “sexuality is liberated (or rather liberalized) in socially constructive forms” so as to serve, rather than to challenge, forms of social control.
Let me water this down a little. Sublimation occurs when we make something sublime, or "heavenly and splenderous." In desublimation, the emphasis devalues the quality of the experience and switches the worth to the quantity of consumption. Rather than a precious experience, mass consumption changes it into a matter of speed and quantity. It's kind of like gaining the freedom to eat whatever we want whenever we want to, but, in doing so, we lose the meaning of eating well and fine dining.
So, it is interesting to consider the sexual revolution in terms of controlling what we think and do rather than helping to liberate our important thoughts and actions. If the gratification of immediate material and sensual needs becomes the prevailing concern of humans, then the ideals of freedom and democracy have no chance. Marcuse might say we must not presume that rebelling against social standards in the absence of reason is productive to our freedom. Could it be that we can confuse happiness with freedom and contentment with emancipation? Super-sizing matters of sexual concern can be overdoing it.
I am tired of the Shock and Awe sexual assault on my eyes and ears. I am sick of hearing "Size Matters" and "Increase Your Sexual Stamina." There may be an artistic level of achievement in running headlong into climactic eros, but I think mastering real love involves a delicate and concerted manipulation of mind and body. I mean, kissing, itself, is infinitely pleasurable, not to mention just being close to someone you love and sharing close, intimate moments together. These things require a brain upstairs despite the tools below the belt line.
If there is a definite guise of sexual revolution for females I think it is all of the tribal-tattooing, cosmetic plastic surgery, body perfection bullshit. Most women today are born beautiful beings who take great care of their own assets. They are in great shape. If anything, innocence is such a rare quality that it is the newest sensual attraction.
In-your-face, shake-your-ass, twerk-till-it-hurts attempts at sex appeal are cheap, gymnastic camouflage for honest sensuality. Guys tell women how sexy "cheap" looks, then once steady dating a girl, the same guys do everything to restrict their girlfriends from looking overly aggressive and "dirty."
Great smiles, beautiful eyes, and confidently working within natural limitations make females sexy and desirable. Real beauty is not perfection, but instead a product of some roughness of surface. Those who enhance their best qualities without fake means truly stun others. For example, to cover beautiful skin with ink stains God-given attraction. Respect to those tattooed. I am just writing my personal opinion. The ink, in itself, has no redeeming value, especially to the aging body and soul.
So, on this Valentines Day, I respect love and romance, even if I still haven't figured out all of philosophy involved. I doubt if I ever will. Sexiness is wonderful. Sex is great. Long live love. BUT ... I think if you want to come on with real sex appeal, save the Tarzan and Jane stuff for the confines of the bedroom. Paper tigers abound and getting into someone's pants can lead to some serious consequences. Those who buy into being the best performers may be playing a part without talent or without reason.
The sexual revolution should focus on making better love rather than just making better sex. If repressive desublimation floats your sexual vessel, then go full steam ahead. To me, at age 63, much of the so-called "sexiness" looks like cheap exhibitionism on steroids. Besides, who has the money and the time to invest in all of the enhancements of the sex market?
I think a little imagination is lost with every gimmick being peddled meant to firm up erogenous organs. It's gotten to the point where I am supposed to ask my doctor if I'm well enough to have sex. Wow, what a conversation that would be. I wonder what the office call would run for that consultation. In the meantime, have a sublime Valentines Day with the one you love.
For a little fun on Valentines Day, here are the "Top Five Classic Sex Symbols" by Matthew Simpson from ask.men.com:
The Top Five
5. Ann Margret
4. Bridgette Bardo
3. Sophia Loren
2. Rita Hayworth
1. Marilyn Monroe
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