Let’s talk about food
Let us just suppose for a moment that we are not talking about sex. Let’s talk about food.
Suppose that I traveled around the city that I live in, all day, every day, eating three meals a day in the restaurants scattered throughout town. I could keep a diary of my meals. I could start a blog sharing my thoughts about each restaurant. Over time, I might collect the best of those into a book. At the least, I would probably be praised for my diverse palate, and my appreciation of widely varied foods. If my evaluations were accurate, I might one day be hailed as one of the culinary greats.
Now, let’s go back to sex, and imagine that I did the same thing.
Imagine for a moment that I am a gorgeous young woman, rather than an aging man. I could travel around my city and have sex with the people I meet. Not just grabbing someone and fucking them, but taking time to develop a rapport with them. Getting to know them as a person. Occasionally, the energy might burn white hot right away, other times it might take several meetings to develop an attraction. In the evenings I could circulate between the many bars and strip clubs in town. If I applied myself, I think I could probably have sex with at least one person a day, and on good days even more often. I could be open to sex with men or women. I could do this with an eye toward nothing but very safe sex. I could even insist on a medical exam before allowing sex to happen. I could take all of the precautions necessary to keep both my safety and the safety of all of these sex partners foremost at all times. I could keep a diary of my exploits. I could again start a blog, or write a book.
I would not be hailed, I would be shunned. I would be called unflattering epithets, like slut or whore, or worse. As my reputation grew, it would become more difficult to find partners. Churches and feminists would picket me. Schools and libraries would ban my book. Preachers of varied denominations would all point to me as a bad example in their sermons. Why is that? Isn’t is just a different, totally natural appetite that I am satisfying?
I’d like to make one other point – let’s go back to the food analogy and apply it in another way.
Pick your favorite food. You get to choose from all of the possibilities on the planet. Lasagna? Chocolate cake? Hummus? Moo Shoo Pork? Duck a l’orange? What would it be? Let’s say, for the sake of discussion, that you picked Peanut Butter & Jelly. Let’s get specific now. Pick your bread – Wheat? Pick a brand – Brownberry? Now your Peanut butter – Skippy? Creamy or chunky – Creamy? Pick your jelly – Welch’s Grape jelly? So be it. For the rest of your life, for every meal that you eat, and for every snack, you must eat PB&J… specifically Creamy Skippy with Welch’s grape jelly on Brownberry wheat. No exceptions are allowed. If we should catch you eating a bologna sandwich, or a pork chop, or even having a bite of your neighbor’s PB&J, we will call it “adultery,” and we will stone you to death. In fact, if we think that you are looking at strawberry jam with lust in your heart, we’ll say that you are coveting your neighbor’s jam, and we’ll stone you to death for that.
Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?