A few issues back someone named Jodi submitted a letter about the dearth of nookie in the average female ex-pat lifestyle, and offering advice on dealing with the inevitable Formosan drought. A regular column runs somewhere in the middle of this magazine on the intricacies of cross-cultural boning. Language exchange, according to published reports, is a thinly veiled guise behind which rampant orgies are arranged and conducted. And it’s not only 24/7. If you deleted the global column inches devoted to getting laid, why you aren’t getting laid, and 10 Secret Ways to Make getting Laid Better Than EVER, you could reforest British Columbia once a week for a decade.
In light of this drooling obsession with sex, you would think that we’d be having more of it. Think again. It seems everywhere you look, people are complaining about not getting any, not getting enough, or not getting good enough.
Yes, we’re clearly a lusty species…or would be if we had more control over things.
So, lately I’ve been wondering why it always comes back to sex. We may be temporarily distracted by some minor intrusion like a hangnail or the Tour de France, but it always comes back to sex.
Now, before I get too deep into this thing, I should point out that I speak from a purely hetero perspective. Firstly, I have no homosexual experience and am, therefore, disqualified from commenting (except in my own omniscient fashion). Secondly, all the gay people I know are leaping in and out of bed with the frequency of a cheap ham radio.
There is no drought in Sodom. Cue the Weather Girls
I was having a beer with some folks recently when one of the women present allowed that it would be nice to have someone with whom to “hook up once in awhile.”
I agreed with the idea in principle (and might have agreed in practice), but she continued, “…and, you know…not just for sex…but to do things with, and sleep with, hang out…go places.”
I told her that she doesn’t want to get laid, she wants a relationship.
“I have female friends to drink with,” I explained, “I’m not sleeping with them in order not to screw up the friendship! I have friends to hang out with…do things with. The problem with relationships is that they expect you to give up all of these things to get sex.”
A girl from South Africa chipped in: “That’s the great thing about masturbation. At least you’re having sex with someone you love.”
I told her that’s why I need to get laid – so I can take a break from having sex with someone I loathe
Shut up, Sigmund
Nevertheless, why is lust, week in and week out, the Capo di Tutti Capo of this giddy gang of pastimes
Let’s run through the list and see what we might be missing in this headlong pursuit of head.
The best thing about gluttony is that you don’t need anyone else to do it well.
A purely solo endeavor, if you so choose, but it’s rather embarrassing to always have mustard stains on your clothes.
Mind you, Gluttony is not necessarily limited to food and drink. In fact, Gluttony might be considered the universal ingredient in all sin. There are money gluttons (Greed), violence gluttons (Wrath), self gluttons (Pride)…
If experience teaches anything, there are gluttons for punishment everywhere.
I am a slut glutton (and so back to Lust).
Gluttony is a useful sales technique: All you can drink – $300 NT! But we’re not there for the cheap, limitless supply of booze…we’re there hunting for drunk chicks, and so back to Lust yet again.
The biggest drawback to Gluttony is that it tends to interfere with partaking of the other sins. If you’re chowing down on three extra helpings night after night, it’s difficult to get laid unless you happen to run into someone with a whale fetish. Plus, all that food and drink gets expensive, so it interferes with Greed.
However, it should be noted that large quantities of alcohol render just about anyone attractive, thus dramatically increasing your chances of finding an outlet for your Lust…and, enough alcohol can render you temporarily (if not permanently) blind, thus preventing you from having to realize the depth of your depravity come sunrise
The obverse of Gluttony is Temperance. Yeah, right.
Temp…temper…tempor…tempour…Tim, pour me another double.
It is said that pride goeth before a fall. Only an arrogant bastard would say goeth, but the big drawback is that Pride invites schadenfreud – a German word which means to take pleasure in another’s misfortune.
Let’s face it, it’s one thing to lose, another to know that everyone else is enjoying your loss. Besides, if you can’t find someone you like a little bit more than yourself, it’s going to be a long, lonely haul to the casket. Trust me
The obverse of Pride is Humility. Neither of them provides the sort of juice to be any real fun. You can learn a lot about humility in Taiwan, or rather False humility, which to me is a sin far worse than Pride. I’ve had Taiwanese students who speak English like Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady say, “Oh, really…no, no…my English is not quite up to snuff. Hopefully, with some practice I’ll be able to improve.”
I fucking hate that.
Envy can be an effective tool in manipulating people, but it’s also sort of schadenfreudish. Anything that involves a third party intermediary is too secondary a jolt…not direct enough. Why would I waste time being envious of you because you’ve got a hot girlfriend? I’d rather spend that time lusting after your hot girlfriend. And speaking of your hot girlfriend, if she knew what was good for her…Oops. (Pride) X (Lust). That can’t be good.
Envy can also be used to motivate consumers, but there’s a drawback. After awhile, rather than aspire to your position (that which they Envy), they will drag you down to theirs, thus making Envy unnecessary
The balance for Envy is Brotherly Love. This is the virtue that tells you, when Great Grandmother Moneybags leaves her entire estate to your rotten cousin, you should be HAPPY for your cousin. How likely is that?
Plus, Brotherly Love sounds sort of gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that
I think we’re all hard wired for greed, in one way or another. Even people who appear generous and giving are merely bartering for good will down the road. Take that conniving bitch Mother Teresa, for example – if she had been charging money to help all those starving, diseased orphans, do you think the Pope would be making her a Saint?
At least with greed, you GET something. Greed is tangible, often fungible, and clearly tied to cold cash.
But does Greed compare to Lust? There does seem to be a correlation between wads of money and hot chicks hungry for same, but if that’s your route to nookie, I say you don’t really understand or appreciate nookie. Just my opinion…whatever slots your coin return
Charity is the virtuous counterweight here. Well, folks, Charity is taking a beating. Plague and pestilence are on the upswing. Folks are starting to get that itchy look in their eye that precedes the hoarding of food. Trust me – get all you can, while you can.
Wrath is just fucking dangerous. It’s not safe to go about being angry and/or provoking violence. You never know who the next guy is. He might be me, in which case you’ll get a stern lecture…from the surgeons in post-operative recovery after I pop your eyeballs out of your head with my thumbs and beat you until your ears bleed.
Okay…okay. I’m calm. Let go.
I SAID I’M CALM!
Okay. I’m calm. Now let go
The flip side of Wrath is Tolerance. Yeah…that’s in stock. Look around the round world – do you see much Tolerance?
Tolerance is like the Monty Python Cheese Shoppe sketch.
“Sorry…fresh out…not much call for it ’round here.”
Another purely solo sin – you don’t need anyone else to do it well.
If Sloth had been the Original Sin, we’d still be in the Garden of Eden.
“Fuck off, Serpent! I’m taking a nap.”
I knew a girl once who liked to mix sloth with lust. She would just lie there, not moving. The relationship ended when I asked her if she’d mind soaking in a tub of cold water for twenty minutes and not blinking so I could pretend she was dead.
The yang to Sloth’s yin is Diligence. Haha. Consider diligence when you’re shoveling three feet of snow off the front walk back in Canada
You can scrape the thing down to the concrete, with nice even edges…or you can dig a path one shovel-mouth wide from the sidewalk to the door. Heck, if you wait, the postman will wear a footpath in a week or so.
Lust is the only one of the seven sins that constitutes a biological imperative.
Studies have shown that women are more likely to be unfaithful when they’re ovulating. Experience shows that men are most likely to be unfaithful whenever opportunity presents. More of that ‘men are from Mars, women are from Venus’ crap? Perhaps, but you’ve already filed away that little ovarian tidbit for later reference.
I bet Richard Dawkins gets laid more often than eggs
It is curious – this willingness to hump a pile of logs on the off chance that there might a squirrel hiding in there. It must have been adaptive at some point in our evolution, but for all the stress and trouble it seems to generate, one wonders how.
Sure, it’s fun, but as any thinking person can tell you, a good shit is better than sex.
Doubt me? Give them both up for two weeks and see which one you REALLY want back.
Nevertheless, it remains unclear why a species that appears to want more sex than we’re getting are having so damn much trouble working out the details.
The obverse of Lust is…get ready for it…Chastity.
Chastity is the state of being that, despite our best efforts and desires otherwise, is frequently imposed upon us.
Remember those kids in the States who took vows of Chastity? Guess what happened?
Well, kiddies, here’s the follow-up: Over half managed to redefine a variety of forms of sexual congress as “not really going ALL the way.” Thus the birth of the phrase, “Eatin’ ain’t cheatin’.”
Of the rest, about half simply said something like, “Oh…I only took the pledge to impress my parents and teachers…I didn’t really mean it.”
The ones who are maintaining their pledge are so damn ugly they couldn’t get laid in a brothel with a bag full of $100’s.
So where does this leave us? Hoarding cash, stuffing our face, pissed off, envious of the next guy, sleeping late, convinced we’re too good for this crap, and wishing we were getting laid instead.
Maybe there’s something to be said for virtue after all.
Good luck gettin’ some.