I’mma’ Gunna’ Pull Yo’ Hair

I’ve changed a lot in recent years.  More specifically, my opinions have changed a lot.

Back when I was young and idealistic and inexperienced, I believed that freedom was achieved through hedonism – controlled hedonism, if you will.  I thought that happiness came to those who poo-poo’d social mores and embraced the more dangerous aspects of life.  The sex, the drugs, the rocks and the rolls, those kinds of things.

I was an aspiring free sprit with a modest collection of formerly banned books (as in books banned in the 1800s that are now available on the bargain shelves at Chapters), a penchant for literature about pornography (not to be confused with pornographic literature, although I do have some of that too), a taste for mild body modifications (all of which are covered by clothing) and a kind of bohemian life philosophy.  

I still have some left-of-center beliefs that I hold dear (i.e. gay marriage is cool, abortion is a personal choice, abstinence-only education is ridiculous, etc), but my belief that all fun is good fun has been tempered by personal experience.  Now I believe that some “fun” things are not fun at all.  For me, anyways, and possibly for you too.

Let me explain.

Sex.

So, on the far right end of the spectrum you have courtship.  Courtship is chaste and non-threatening.  It involves two individuals expressing emotional and intellectual interest in one another, and thus agreeing to spend time together to see if a romantic commitment is a possibility.  It’s about hand-holding and giggling and shy, flirtatious glances.  It’s old-school, basically, and thus dated – mostly because it excludes the possibility of developing a physical relationship prior to a wedding.

However, on the far (left?) side of the romance continuum you have the hook-up, which is, by definition, not romantic at all. The hook-up is a fast and furious self-serving act.  It’s meant to enhance one’s reputation more than his (or her, but mostly his) quality of life.  The term “hook up” is ugly.  It sounds like plugging in a cord or linking paperclips together over a boring lunch hour.  The analogy is fairly appropriate, as insertion seems to be a key component of any real hook-up.

It’s sort of like the Ying Yang twins song that’s alluded to in this blog’s title.  It’s rough and coarse and terse.  

Despite the fact that a hook-up is supposed to be frivolous and exciting, it has rules.  Big Rules.

Rule #1: Don’t get attached after a hook-up.  Getting attached is for bitches.

Rule #2: Don’t expect affection after the hook-up, that’s asking too much.  Affection is for bitches.

Rule #3: You can hook-up again, but if attachment ensues, expect mockery and a long-lasting adversarial relationship with your former “lover.”

I used to think hook-ups were dandy, a good way to relieve stress and learn more about the beauty of human sexuality.  Now, I think they’re a troublesome social trend that’s stunting natural emotional growth.  Sex need not be exclusively reserved for love or commitment, but it should be had for passion.  It should be about desire and, hopefully, a small shred of mutual respect.  It should be about fulfilling the wants and needs of yourself and another person.

When you’re told you shouldn’t – nay, can’t – expect basic respect from your one-time (or part-time) partner because “it’s just sex and clinginess is for bitches,” the fun is gone.  The freedom from archaic, old-fashioned values is gone.  Even the “naughty” aspect is eradicated.  The hook-up, more often than not, eventually becomes about one person’s power over someone else.  One person, free of emotional reservations, sees another as, well, kind of a come bucket or fleshy vibrator.  If the bucket or vibrator gets upset, he or she (usually she) is derided for not following the rules.

Expecting everlasting attachment isn’t fair, but nor is it fair to demand cold detachment from people who are, for all intents and purposes, being intimate with another human being.  

We don’t need to return to an era where kissing was scandalous, but we do need to find balance between austerity and overindulgence, especially when that overindulgence starts to prove more wearying and trying than it’s worth.  

Sex is about the enjoyment of another person’s body, not the cold use of it.  Somehow it’s become cool to forget that, and I think that’s sad.