Today a few thoughts on another movie (Fifty Shades of Grey) I won’t see. This post is NSFW. Or maybe not. Good luck.
Every generation has to have its own mainstream how-to fuck film. I say mainstream because the porn industry isn’t really a how-to fuck industry, although that’s probably a shame on account it does provide a lot of obviously needed information on The Carnal. (Seriously. Where would #americant be without porn? Childless? Fewer lost boys? Women walking around with donut glaze on their faces? Etc.) But then the question becomes: since so much porn is being consumed why is it that most young people still don’t know how to fuck and thereby, for all practical purposes, require how-to films? Could the answer have anything to do with misconstrued morality? Puritanical shame? Or how ’bout this:
Romantic-love should die?
Indeed, dear worst-reader. The reality is, romantic-love has run its course and it’s time to move on. Seriously. It would help humanity a great deal. Just drop it. Get rid of it. Be done!
That said. I have nothing against romance (and sex) as a transaction–which is all love is these days as defined by its culmination: marriage. But I do have a problem with going against nature. And. Fucking is nature. Making love is… anti nature. Or maybe not.
Which brings me to this part of this attempt at opening a can of worms: What’s with the debate on marriage rights? You know. We shouldn’t be debating whether or not one group can marry and another can’t. What we should be doing is getting rid of the institution of marriage outright. Obviously, in the wake of the past hundred or so years, as an institution, it is an utter failure. Get ride of it. By doing so, we can kill two birds with one stone. Offing marriage’s head could finally save the children. It could also save females from themselves. Be done!
Oh yeah. I was worst-writing about romantic-love in the context of feminism vs emancipation vs porn all motivated by silly films. Wait. Or was I…? Nomatter. The how-to fuck film of my day was called 9 1/2 Weeks. A silly bourgeois cinematic romp where a female couldn’t decide what to do with the confusion that arises between (her) biology and the inevitability of husband hunting–which often gets confused when the libido takes the first step off the cliff (great job Kim Basinger). And when I think back on that movie the only thing I can remember is the confused look on my then girlfriend’s face regarding her puritanical upbringing juxtaposed with being raised in the wake of 1960s flower-power and being fed cherries on the kitchen floor while wearing fancy pyjamas (or the like).
Did you know that romantic-love has no purpose? It used to have a purpose. Back in the day when Das Volk loved feudalism, birth entitlement, aristocracy, monarchs. Oh wait. We still live in those times. Nomatter (again.) Something about getting daughters from wealthy houses to marry into other wealthy houses where the groom wasn’t the best match or vice-versa was the only way to play the patriarchs game. Today that game is the same but played in the vein of the same-difference. Marriage, and by default romantic-love, as an institution, still provides the patriarch rulers the mother teat. And he sucks joyously upon it. So go and fight about your silly marriage vows. When you give-in to institutions it doesn’t matter what you suck on. Doom is neigh.
Ok. I’m confused. And I’m way off subject. The subject is how-to fuck films and why they are so stupid. It has nothing to do with porn and exploitation as Chris Hedges so rightfully points out (see link below). What it is about is what Mr. Hedges misses. The reality is how-to fuck films are about something much deeper. They are about the mindset of the indoctrinated human female who is either Barbie or August Ames*. The confusion the female, the child bearer, the mother faces today, now that porn is mainstream, must be horrendous. Yet so few females voice anything above and beyond what they themselves have trivialised by exploiting romantic-love which can only lead to the transaction of marriage which ultimately leads to the mass silliness we have today–half of which all end in expensive and child ruining divorce. And so. Maybe there needs to be an alternative to the fiction that we are forced to make real that is romantic-love and maybe that alternative is buried deep in the subtext of how-to fuck films. Or maybe not. Whatever.
And on a side note. Even though worst-writer doesn’t believe in much, you know, as in gods and mysticism, there is something in me that does believe in nature which means that there is a slight thought or three regarding the validity and/or possibility of reincarnation which in-turn makes me shudder at the thought that I could come back as a female. Aghast!
Rant on. -Tommi
*For kicks I googled something like “popular porn star” and her name came up. Seriously. I’ve never heard of her or seen her before. Really. Wow.