He Did Me Wrong!

Amidst the flotsam streaming out of the Kavanaugh hearing, I particularly noticed one tweet from a woman who wished to add her mite to the bulging dossier of male beastliness.  She told the world that, on some bygone evening, she and a man had repaired to a motel room, and in said room said man had proceeded to masturbate on her.  When they pulled in at the Budge It Inn, this woman may have been under the impression that they were simply going to consult a passage in the Gideon’s Bible, but I think it more likely that she was under the impression they were going to enjoy some “good sex.”

That it turned out to be bad sex is her cri de coeur.  And at this cri de coeur, this damsel expects white knights to rise in wrath

“Saddle up and grab your lances, boys, this pistol did me wrong.”

Time was when a “damsel in distress” was a virgin in urgent need of assistance to preserve her virginity, and a “knight in shining armor” was a man who offered such assistance without expectations of carnal compensation.  But nowadays, a Sir Galahad is expected to wait beneath the bug-light outside every motel room, listening for the lassie’s cry of dissatisfaction with her lunging lad.

When we call sex “casual,” we mean it is unplanned and outside the routine of a marriage or “relationship.”  When I first heard the expression “casual sex” around 1970, the image of Hush Puppy shoes flashed into my mind, and the association has never entirely vanished. Young JMSmith knew from television advertisements that Hush Puppy shoes were “casual and comfortable,” and so he supposed that “casual sex” must be sex that did not need to be broken in, and that would not give one blisters or pinch one’s toes.

If young JMSmith had learned the word casual from a dictionary rather than television advertisements, he would have known that the word meant accidental, not comfortable.  And if he had known the word meant “accident,” he would have associated casual sex with twisted metal, blood, and shattered glass.  Casual sex would not have sounded like a pair of Hush Puppies.  It would have sounded like a car crash.

If the utility of dictionaries needs further demonstration, you may add this to the pile.

An incident of casual sex is, by definition, a sexual accident. Because it is a sexual accident, we should not be surprised that policemen, paramedics and investigators are so often called to the scene.  Because it is a sexual accident, we should not be surprised that the injured parties so often have liquor on their breath.  Because it is a sexual accident, we should not be surprised that it doesn’t always go according to plan.

That was the mistake of the tweeting woman with whom I began.  She went into that motel room with an idea that unplanned sex would proceed according to her plan.  Or, to change our locution, she went into that motel room with an idea that what the libertines call “wild sex” is like domestic sex, just better.

* * * * *

If I say that an act of accidental sex caused an “accident,” most people will suppose I mean an unplanned pregnancy.  This is the “accident” to which a Lothario is referring when he produces his trusty condom and says, “we wouldn’t want to have an accident.” But to this “accident” in the procreative function of sex, we must add a more common “accident” in the unitive function of sex.

Sexual intercourse is a social glue, although it adheres to individuals with variable strength.  Or, to put this another way, accidental sex sometimes causes only half of the couple to fall in love.  That party rises from the unplanned encounter with a plan to domesticate this “wild sex” and make it into a routine.  The other party does not.

The bastard child of this accident is rage, sadness and pain!

When the lad sticks and lassie runs wild, we call that lad a stalker.  He is, as we say, “stuck on her,” and so he moons around hoping for another accident. I don’t suppose every stalker is a jilted lover, but the hopeless appeals of a jilted lover are indistinguishable from stalking.  These hopeless appeals are pathetic, and jilted lovers are pests, but they are also a perfectly predictable consequence of widespread accidental sex.

When the lassie sticks and the lad runs wild, we call that lad a cad, or even a rapist.  There is such a thing as retroactive rape, by which I mean casual sex that curdles into rape when the lad fails to call for another round.  It is called “feeling used,” and it is a perfectly predictable consequence of widespread accidental sex.  A lad is less likely to feel used, but if he does, no will give a damn unless he becomes a stalker.

You will notice a certain asymmetry in this program of sexual freedom.  If she bids him be gone, he best be gone.  If she bids him stay, he best stay.  Otherwise the world will rise up to this newfangled damsel’s cri de cœur:

“He did me wrong!”

15 thoughts on “He Did Me Wrong!

  1. Pingback: He Did Me Wrong! | @the_arv

  2. This can be a good thing. The more risk of destruction “accidental” sex creates, perhaps the less frequency of sexual “accidents.” Let the asymmetry increase, and the frequency decrease!

  3. That ‘ratchet’ imagery is well served here too.

    As a side note, the emotional response to sex is something which is bizarrely under-discussed. As much as I love Robert Heinlein, his quote never sat right with me: “Sex without love is just healthy exercise”. Denying the biological and spiritual bond between two mates is crippling. People are looking for emotional affirmation anywhere they can find it these days, and they seek it but are denied it in their “casual” sexual partners.

    I saw a headline somewhere that people are ‘falling in love’ with sex robots. That’s because those inanimate objects are the empty vessels liberals want women to be, with the perfect emotional non-response society thinks people should have. People are filling the gap with their own imaginations. Lack of rejection is being equated as acceptance.

    Sexual immorality is a deeply rooted social illness. Are we really going to add discontented but consensual lovers to the high pile of problems we have as a society? good grief.

    • Liberal sexual morality has to affirm the value of meaningless sex, provided it’s meaningless for the female. It can be meaningless for both or meaningless for neither, but never meaningless for the male only. This is what “empowerment” means.

      • I guess people are just not prone to thinking about what they want to think about, but how can even a Darwinian materialist deny the necessary complicated relationship between psychology and sex? We reproduce sexually for crying out loud.

      • A Darwinian materialist should be especially open to the idea that there is selective pressure towards bonding, and that this will be most pronounced in the female.

  4. Sounds like a scene from a 1970s Clint Eastwood flick.

    Your readers might recall that toward the end of last year’s college football season, a young (white) woman accused one Rodney Anderson, black star running back for OU, of raping her in her apartment with a “foreign object.” The evidence (such that it is, and what of it has been released for public consumption) suggests that Anderson, while not completely innocent of committing a moral wrong, was not the aggressor in their little tryst, and that he indeed was the only party of the two whose conscience and moral inhibitions ultimately overcame the passion of the moment. Afterward the young “lady” continued to pursue Anderson, who was undoubtedly sickened by the whole affair and wanted nothing more to do with her. To this “shunning” the young woman reacted very negatively and went after him, ex post facto, with a vengeance equal to or perhaps even greater than the passion with which she had, on the night in question, attempted to lure him into “wild sex.” Anderson’s “saving grace” turned out to be the young woman’s cell phone records (phone calls and text messages), from which the authorities determined that Anderson had been resistant to her advances throughout the duration of the incident, and that she had intended to, before all of said and done, conquer his self-restraint and the fact that he was “trying to be a nice guy.”

    What appears to have gotten her so angry is that Anderson “didn’t come back for more.” Good thing for Anderson that she wasn’t a very good aim!

  5. Pingback: He Did Me Wrong! | Reaction Times

  6. Same old story. Happened in high school – girl I liked (man was I dumb!) goes to cheap hotel (to consult a passage in the Gideon’s Bible) with a boy she just met. Boy’s friends are at hotel to watch their buddy score – the next day it’s sexual assault.

  7. Pingback: Dr. Ford’s Poetry – The Orthosphere


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