If an alien landed on this planet – his first mistake – and started studying us, he would have to think that sex was a pretty silly way to reproduce and that we spent too much time attempting to have sex even when we’re not trying to reproduce. All in all, he’d conclude, humans are simply crazy.
Then he would attempt to get off this planet ASAAP (As Soon As Alienly Possible), but too late! The Air Force shoots down his spacecraft, and he must flee from the Men in Black (not rappers, the government). He will be aided only by a beautiful newscaster with whom he will eventually mate and create a new race of alien-human hybrids who will naturally want to conquer the world as they don’t enjoy Scrabble and there’s nothing on TV.
The poor alien wouldn’t understand we have a whole society based on sex. Our books, movies, music, art, our lives revolve around it. You can’t turn on a TV without seeing some ad that says if you use their product, you’ll be surrounded by willing males, females, and tax accountants all wanting to enjoy your hot monkey love.
The Internet is partly to blame. Never in the course of human history have so many pictures of unattractive naked people been available to so many people. People no longer streak in real life; they streak online for a much larger audience. Truthfully, clothes are a blessing, and more people should remember that they do not resemble Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie in any way other than being a member of the same species, and that’s not always certain.
Magazines abound and abounce with pictures of barely clad women. Sports Illustrated (un)clothes supermodels in nothing more than drops of water these days, and is making millions selling videos of “The Making of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue,” “The Making of the Making of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue,” and “Revealed: The Secrets of the Making of the Making of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue.” We have more information available about the Swimsuit Issue than we do about the Iraq War.
Let’s not forget TV’s role in this. I mean, it would be nice if we could, but we can’t. In the broadcasters’ rush to give us what we apparently want, they have pushed the envelope so far that they climbed right out of it and are stealing the stamp as they go. It’s bad enough to even make the Democrats blush – and they would if they could except their cheeks are simply exhausted (Blush Burnout) after the Clinton years and haven’t recovered.
And there’s no rest for the elderly, either. As soon as Bob Dole appeared in that ad for a “male potency enhancer,” I realized that the Apocalypse was upon us and not a moment too soon. Unfortunately, the Four Horsemen are trapped on a tropical island with a bunch of whiny people from a plane wreck.
I’m frankly tired of this over-emphasis on sex. Isn’t it possible that a person could live a happy, productive life without doing the naughty? OF COURSE NOT! I’m surprised you’d even think that I’d think that. Are you unAmerican? We have to have sex all the time every day for hours and hours or we will die! Well, maybe not die, but be seriously unhappy and become Republicans.
And if we can’t have sex, we need to be talking, talking, talking about it. We need to examine it exhaustively – to the point that we forget to eat. We need to treat it with the care and concentration required to make nuclear weapons. Use this simple equation that Einstein wished he had thought of: sex = happy.
I see no signs of this sexual frenzy abating. Our only hope is that the alien-human hybrids will take over the world soon. But I’m afraid they’ll take a long look at our problems and then head for Mars. That’s what I would do.
(Copyright 2015 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. From "Floozy And Other Stories" available at Amazon, Barnes&Noble, BooksAMillion, and other online retailers.)