Everywhere I go I see sex. It’s on billboards, store-front windows, the way women dress (or don’t dress) on television, in the movies. It’s on my computer screen to the point where I need a special software tool just to keep it from popping up (no pun intended). To someone on the outside of America looking in, it would appear that sex “owns” America.
So, why then, are we surprised at “the rise” (and fall and rise again) of Anthony and his Weiner? I’m sitting here in an internet café (and when someone walks in I glance up just to make sure they’re not pointing a gun at me) and I have to admit that most of the women who walk in here are dressed quite modestly. I really don’t believe most women want to get into Anthony Weiner’s pants. Of course, some men like to fantasize that women want them, but it’s just not true. Let’s face it – most rapists are men.
On the other hand, sex sells. That can’t be debated. Men, have you ever wondered why so many strangers are interested in the size of “your package”? Come on! Give me a break here! I don’t want a nutritional all natural supplement to make her happy and give her the size she deserves! That’s just gross! But, people wouldn’t be making and marketing this snake oil unless men were buying it.
I once read an article about a study claiming that men think about sex every seven seconds. That’s absurd! Truth be told I’ll be fifty-six next month, and sometimes I go as long as forty-seven seconds without thinking it. After all, how would men get anything done? I’m guessing the study was conducted primarily in Washington DC.
Of course, when I was younger, I thought about it more often. I remember thinking, I am so looking forward to old age when my sex drive calms down. Unfortunately, no other men are brave enough (or stupid enough) to admit this, so I’ll look like a total sex fiend when this article comes out. In one of my older and bolder books Laughter and Tears:Living both Sides of Life I make the following statement:
“I used to think about sex a lot more when I was younger, but not as much now. I always hated the fixation and would struggle to think about other things, but it was primarily a losing battle. In my younger days, especially my twenties, I think I could actually feel the hormones physically coursing through my veins, taking control, raging within, threatening to override any rational thought. It was almost like I had two heads: the big head on top of my shoulders, and the little head, down below my waist. Being in the Marine Corps, I sometimes took a military approach to my life. I gave the little head a name: Sergeant Johnson. And every morning, Sergeant Johnson would wake up and snap to attention, give me that big, one-eyed salute and say, “Good morning sir, permission to take the helm?”
So there you have it. I’m a sleazy pervert. So what’s the difference between Skip Coryell and Anthony Weiner? Just one thing: I tell Sergeant Johnson to stand down. Anthony Weiner (that name just kills me every time I type it) does the opposite. He sees his weakness and he pumps it up and gives it more power. Instead of starving the beast, he continues to feed it.
News flash: “This just in. Anthony’s Weiner, Sergeant Johnson, has just received orders to rape, pillage and plunder, to conduct online conquests, to tweet his tush, and to Facebook his Phallus. Film at eleven.”
Now let’s just think about this for a moment. Do ya think – just maybe – even a little bit … that America might be getting out of control? Is sex the be-all and end-all of life on Earth? Is sex the primary reason for our existence and the heart and soul of the human race? Have we become total slaves to the sexual act?
Answer: Turn on the television and see for yourself.
I have a seventeen-year-old son and I shudder to think about the confusion going on in his head about sex and his reason for existing. Everything around him, all the images, the values, the immorality, they pound at him: “Do it! Do it now! Everyone’s doing it! It’s healthy! It’s fun! It’s good for you!”