Descartes, porn style

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I fuck, therefore I am. We all know people like this. Their entire sense of being is totally wrapped up in their ability to get laid eight days a week. And this applies to girls as much as it does to guys, what’s more, stereotypical representations notwithstanding, I’d say that girls, while not as vocal about it, are far guiltier than guys. Let’s face it, it is much easier for a girl to go up to a guy for a good lay out of the blue than the reverse is possible. As a tangent, I was at a power metal concert on Friday night at a small ex-strip club on Parc, and the opening act had a female lead singer. This made me think of other metal bands with female leads, like Girlschool, and it made me wonder what the groupie situation is like backstage. See, male metal leads apparently have a plethora of women waiting to place themselves in compromising situations while their boyfriends wait patiently. But the power here lies with the women – they come up to the metal star, they are much better looking, and save for what actually gets done, groupie sex is totally feminist. But, when the lead is female, I’m not sure exactly how this works. People who go to underground metal shows, myself included, aren’t usually the best looking fuckers on the face of the planet – metal is dirty, raw, and heavy, and you won’t see the latest fashion in the pit. Regardless, at this point we have ugly men approaching powerful women at the head of a metal band seeing if they’ll score. I really do wonder what it’s like backstage.

ANYWAYS, getting back to my original point. The power of girls to define themselves in terms of their latest conquest is incredible. The new woman, present since the sixties, lives in the city alone, gabs with her girlfriends freely on sex and by and large treats men almost as if they were disposable, which, I’m sure many guys don’t mind too much as long as they are throwing it in fairly often. These people fuck to be. The most interesting point about this statement is that it stands to contrast with the original, ostensibly more intellectual, statement. The comedy lies in the dichotomy between fucking and thinking and popular lore tells us that those who fuck to be cannot think to be.

So, what does it mean to fuck to be? What exactly does a sense of self wrapped in latex create? It could mean that these people are unhappy and vapid, looking to fill their vacuous life with senseless pleasure. But that is way to simple an explanation. Descartes thinks, therefore he is, and because he is, through philosophical meanderings, proves that God exists. And this is what people who fuck to be do as well. Maybe God doesn’t exist, but god definitely does. And that shift key makes all the difference.

If one fucks to be, one is firmly rooted in the sensible, pleasurable world. Though there are emotional and intellectual levels to sex, it is primarily an activity to feel. And fucking is nothing more than the path to the best orgasm possible, and while there are religions and traditions that espouse the greatness of the orgasm as the medium to communicate with whomever, I’m much more interested in the post-coital coma that follows as a result. Lying there, naked, sweaty, blank. Even if it’s just for a couple of seconds, you don’t feel anything. After that may come the pleasure, the guilt, the anger, the instinct to flee, but for a couple of seconds, the feeling is blank. It is a feeling of nothingness. And this nothingness is not a nothingness of negation, but a nothingness of otherness. During the small coma it’s not that you feel nothing, but it’s that you don’t feel something. This not-something is the not-something of death, which is nothing of life. And so sex is a birth that leads to the blank post-coital coma, which is a death. And in this death, there is a boundless freedom, for it is not-life, not-bound. What is death? It’s not life, that’s all we know. And since we know life and we can put limits on life, we have no limits on death. In that state of blank nothingness we are limitless, we are everything, we are god, and so we are ourselves.

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2 Responses to “Descartes, porn style”

  1. Sandwich Repairman Says:

    So what would this blog and magazine be without sex?

  2. Seb Says:

    It wouldn’t be this blog and magazine, it’d be some other one

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