There are many aspects of being at university that I enjoy and are valuable, granted, and compulsory sexuality is everywhere, granted, but since this is where I am right now, this is where I see it the most. It’s not just the factor of elder adolescence in the absence of parental interference — sometimes it’s the basis of theories and couched in academia, from the mouths of scholars and professors, and that might be when it jars me the most. It’s like everything has to be related to sex at some point in order to explain anything, and nothing is allowed to exist independent of it.
As I noted before in a brief aside about my introductory English class, in Differentiating Types of Attraction:
This was for the same class in which the professor implied the protagonist of The Turn of the Screw could be hallucinating due to sexual repression.
Look, I may not know what it’s like to be a celibate allosexual with rampant unfulfilled sexual desire, but I’m pretty sure that experience doesn’t make you see dead people in the window or become paranoid that the kids you’re babysitting might be communing with ghosts.
I remember which desk I was sitting in and the inflection in her voice as the professor asked, If you had to go that long without a sexual outlet, you’d all probably go a little crazy, right? I remember the lump in my throat. I remember wanting to say something, and not understanding why I was afraid to.
Incidentally, I decided not to pursue any more English classes.
But this crap shows up in other places, too. If I still had the materials from last year’s Money, Banking, & Finance class, I’d quote an excerpt from where this guy insisted on using sexual language to talk about the financial sector, and, in a completely different field, it was like a slap in the face when I read the end of this section in Schafer’s introduction to The Soundscape:
The sense of hearing cannot be closed off at will. There are no earlids. When we go to sleep, our perception of sound is the last door to close and it is also the first to open when we awaken. These facts have prompted McLuhan to write: “Terror is the normal state of any oral society for in it everything affects everything all the time.”
The ear’s only protection is an elaborate psychological mechanism for filtering out undesirable sound in order to concentrate on what is desirable. The eye points outward; the ear draws inward. It soaks up information. Wagner said: “To the eye appeals the outer man, the inner to the ear.” The ear is also an erotic orifice.
The ear is also an erotic orifice.
I swear, that came toward the end of the essay out of nowhere. The next sentence after that is even worse, in terms of gross factor.
Listening to beautiful sounds, for instance the sounds of music, is like the tongue of a lover in your ear.
What the– Good God, no.
I’m so tired of sex being the Ultimate Metaphor for good things. And now, in my class on visual methodologies, we’ve had to incorporate psychoanalytics, a methodology entrenched in sexuality (and flawed understandings of it, at that), into our own work. Fortunately we’ve only been required to engage with the less flawed aspects, but at its roots, it hardly allows for any subjectivity, any agency, apart from sexuality and sexual gazing.
No need to even talk about that time I was doing obscure research and had to wade into the murky waters of evolutionary psychology.
Look, I get that it’s an interesting subject, but as much as I like blogging about sexual semantics,
sometimes I just wish people would shut up about sex.