In the beginning, 4.4 billion years ago on Planet Earth, there is the incredible fact, of life.
Life with only one job that life cares about ever since and evermore; making more life.
Life, not being much of a gambler, tries every which way and provides the living organism with irresistible desire which will rule them, one way or another, from infancy to dotage.
That irresistible desire lives its parallel and compulsory life in the urges of our bodies, which are poisonous if repressed or denied.
It also lives cunningly in our dreams, fantasies, thought processes, ambitions, dispositions…
It’s not the raw desire to procreate that ever reveals itself – that would ruin the enterprise of procreation. Trad Wives and Homestead Husbands notwithstanding, it isn’t the screaming of the bloody labour ward during actual instances of procreation we fantasise about when we masturbate, is it?
Birth itself is no turn on.
Which isn’t to say, of course, that there isn’t a hospital in Berlin catering to just such a truly niche kink, but still….
No, it’s sexual pleasure and, ultimately, the quest for orgasms which drives us, whether or not we can admit it to ourselves. Love(as opposed to co-dependancy of any kind), with all its romance and all of the demands placed on it, is generally a matter of a sustained period of providing regular mutual orgasms, at least until you’re too old for all that, as I am sure many of you will have found out by now.
The key to understanding the beginning or root or fundament of human sexuality then is to realise that life does not distribute sexual desire strictly according to genitalia or indeed any of the estranging gender conventions invented by humans. Life laughs at the idea of a straightforward distribution of desire. It revels in excess, exchange and overlap and in all forms of bodily pleasures and interpenetrations. Hedging its bets, or simply betting on everything, life simply ensures that some of the living want to fuck, that some of them want to be fucked, that some of them want to fuck and be fucked. That there will simply be such an excess of desire and such a guaranteed continuity of fucking of every which way that the very excess itself will guarantee the procession of generations.
This by the way is not to deny the validity or the existence of asexuals or asexualities – the spectrum of sexuality would obviously not be complete without asexuality, and so asexuality is a part of life, which likes as we know to fill up all the spaces in the sticker book.
Desire has no object says Bataille – and that is its founding truth.
Life does not bother with the details. Desire is life’s deep ocean habitat and all kinds are welcome to swim in it. So why should anyone or any institution attempt to set limits to desire, or to judge the desires of others?
Nothing about humans suggests we should be giving life advice, or finding fault with its formula – 4.4 billion years in operation and still working. Keep your nose out of life’s business, or be one of life’s idiots.
When we deny or repress the part of us that wants to fuck or be fucked or fuckbefucked, whomsoever we want to fuck or be fucked by or fuckbefucked with, we deny life, we poison our own root. Societies that contain high levels of sexual repression are poisonous societies full of poisoned people doing poisonous things and they will die of the poison sooner or later.
Remember, every fish in the poison river is a poisoned fish. And therefore a potential poisoner.
Life has no morals and no purpose other than itself. This is not a human purpose, though in the very short term we may one of countless forms of being which serve, have served, will serve. Life itself is inhuman.
All we can say for sure about the desires of Life is that, like the most selfish of lovers (tho of course selfish lovers are far from the least desirable of lovers for many), Life wants to use us for its own purposes.
More than anything else and before anything else then, Life, that multi-aeonic Grand Parade of diversity and novelty, desires for us to come together however it pleases us, and as often as we possibly can.
NOTE – Some may, sincerely or otherwise, wonder where pedophilia fits in to all this. The answer is it doesn’t. Pedophilia is not a sexuality, it is a pathology. How do we know this? Because unlike the variant forms of desire, and just like every other pathology, it doesn’t make life more pleasurable. Instead it harms life, as the incredibly tragic suicude and addiction statistics for its victims testifies. Attempts to confuse the pathology of pedophilia with the spectrum of LQBTQIA+ identities are only ever made by homophobes, who are all enemies of pleasure, truth, love, and life and probably aren’t very good at fcuking themselves, not to mind anyone else.