This is not so much a writing as it is a sharing, you may not see the connection between these but it gels for me so here goes…

The Darwin Awards are given to people who do the gene pool a huge favor by removing themselves from it.

Love is a disease. This is not to say that love is bad for not all diseases are bad. As a disease love has recognizable phases or stages not all of which will be experienced in every case. Love is somewhat unusual in that it requires two hosts if it is to exist for very long: rare cases where love exists with only one host for an extended period of time are usually accompanied by chronic sadness. The initial phase of the disease, popularly referred to as infatuation, is relatively short. This is probably for the better as the hosts typically suffer intense emotional interactions causing alternating states of euphoria and despondency which are exceedingly stressful. The level of stress is so high that most cases of the disease do not survive past this stage. Looked at in this way infatuation may be the hosts most effective defense against the disease of love.

If the disease of love survives infatuation then it may enter into a chronic phase that can persist until death. Emotional interactions during this phase seem to be built upon a foundation of acceptance and trust. The relationship between the hosts and the disease often becomes mutualistic during this phase and, if anything, seems to aid in the dissipation of external stresses. This may be why the chronic form of the disease is so enduring: the hosts in combination with the disease seem to form a unit that is admirably suited to coping with the trials and tribulations of life.

For some reason humans tend to worship the first phase of the disease even though it is very uncomfortable and sometimes fatal. They write songs, poetry and stories (and make movies) about this phase--most of which tend to be very unrealistic. They pine for this state when they are not infected and then suffer excruciating emotional torment when they do manage to contract the disease. If some entity wanted to prove the basic irrationality of humans they would not require much more evidence than this.

Young humans frequently deride the comfortable, supportive second phase of the disease as "boring". However, this is to be expected when the generally self-destructive tendencies of young humans are considered. The second phase is not uninterrupted idyllic bliss--to speak of such a state in the context of humans is absurd indeed--but those humans who do manage to settle into this second state of the infection seem more fulfilled and content with life. On this basis I would conclude that if the goal is achieving the second stage of the infection then risking infatuation may be worthwhile for these odd creatures.

by Mitchell Covell
 

‘Love is a bedtime story, a teddy bear, familiar, one eye missing “Do you love me, carita?” Lydia says, twisting my arm, forcing my face into the rough horsehair blanket, biting my neck. “Say it, you bitch.” Love is a toy, a token a scented handkerchief. “Tell me you love me,” Barry said. “I love you,” I said. “I love you, I love you.” Love is a check, that can be forged, that can be cashed. Love is a payment that comes due.’
 

Janet Fitch

If you stop believing will you still get it?

But, no I don’t believe it could bring back Neo, not in any reality…

Back in Victorian times, when table legs were covered because they were considered a little on the overtly sexual side (one wonder what they would have done with Pamela Anderson), doctors routinely administered vibrators to female patients to cure an apparently very common female ailment generally referred to as ‘hysteria’. The prescribed treatment was a ‘hysterical paroxysm’, these day more commonly known as a clitoral orgasm.

The doctors made a fortune, until the machine age meant that every girl could have a vibrator of her own – in fact, in 1899, advertisements for vibrators started appearing in women’s magazines such as Modern Pricilla and Home Needlework (we kid you not). Read all about it in Rachel Maines’s fascinating book ‘The technology of Orgasm: ‘Hysteria’, the Vibrator and Woman’s Sexual Satisfaction (John Hopkins University Press). We bet Queen Victoria was secretly amused indeed.

SA Cosmopolitan
 

  July 1, 1999