The Best Kind of Slut

I am an utter slut for mindfucking (does it mean anything that MS Word’s suggestion for what I was trying to say is “inducing”?). I love it.

When that idea, so different, so new, so utterly unexpected, first spots me I go weak in the knees. I feel the wetness already. Where have you been all my life? How could I have lived this long without you? Why haven’t I seen you here before? Stop looking and come over and talk to me. I know I want it, but no, not yet…

First we must take care of the small things. Who are you? Where were you born? 19th century Germany? How vigorous… 20th century Russia? How delectable… 18th century France? How quaint… I didn’t know your type were still out playing the scene. 20th century United States? Oh… don’t tell me you know Ayn Rand… oh good, what about Norman Brown? Yes, I know, good to hear you don’t associate with those types. Dangerous they are. How did you grow up? In the mind of privileged European male who saw a need to change the world, yes, it’s a common way of coming of age, but you needn’t worry. We talk of early roots and inspirations, failures and half-starts. I can feel myself falling, the desire growing. Metaphysical leanings that survived through theological disappointments; very important. Materialism is important, but the mind must always be capable of reaching beyond any presently accepted reality. Oh God, I feel like I’d go over the edge if I touched you now…

I know this feeling. Every time, all over again, it is equally exhilarating. Without it the idea can be of some passing interesting, the moment of meeting pleasurable and certainly a way of spending some time, but not like this… Without this anticipation, want, I can only be left confused and lost by a mindfuck, no matter how good it may be, or how skilled. At worse it an leave me dry, incapable of seeking out new ideas for weeks or months. Those that are never turned on by mindfucking ideas may still try their luck with them, but they will always be left empty like this, and the experience itself may be uncomfortable, even painful. But I am certainly wet now…

I take you home, this shining, elegant idea. Our last defenses fall away and it is time for me to take you into myself…

oh yeah, that’s it, invalidate all reality, but show how this invalid reality is the only one possible… fuck yeah, oh God that feels soooooo good, mmmmmmmm, yeah, all systems of thoughts are ultimately deductive systems, oh yeah, give me that dirty Hume, even the empirical reality that modern science clings to as objective is nothing more than an elaborate system laid atop assumptions about the clarity of perception, oh shit, oh shit… shit shit, fuck yes! even Goethe saw that…… ugh, yeah, math is not the language of Nature, Nature doesn’t follow any system of rules we can deduce, we can only, yes, yes yesyesyesyesyesYESYES! don’t stop, we can only approximate it… Kant showed how even quantification is an arbitrary attribute of a certain type of human consciousness, what’s that? dialectics? you think you can handle that? Christ! fuck that feels good! yes, just like that, don’t you fucking thing about stopping… all realities will simultaneously shatter and reform into something anew once you begin questioning and understanding their roots, and while those roots… oh God, I’m so wet, I feel so close… always have an infinite complexity which is lost in the opaqueness of one’s own reality… no, yes yes yes FUCK yes… no you can’t do without a reality, and ideology… for all we know the universe is infinitely complex and in order to function we have to whittle it down to some form that can be processed, and that’s what, harder, harder, mmmmmmmm, God, fuck me harder! society does, at least in part, push us towards accepting this arbitrary reality, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing, might even be necessary, oooooooohhhhh, yesssssss, yessss, fuck yes… as a human existing completely outside of society would not even be human in any way that we could understand, which was part of Marx’s materialism, but Marx had too much faith in science, ugh, ugh, Jesus fuck yes! so he completely discounted metaphysics, but it is metaphysics that forces us to understand the necessary limitations of perception and therefore the material world… so good… so good… fuck, fuck, Christ and Allah that’s fucking good, I’m close, close, close… reality is materialism tempered with skeptical metaphysics, yes, yes, yesYESYES, I’m cooooooooooommmmmmmminnnnnngg…

After this, sometime after, my senses return and I realize the idea has fled. There may be an open book, or magazine article laying around me, but the idea is not there. They always flee. It is, however, that rush that makes the following disappointment worth it. I will always end up right back where I started, watching the play back and forth between the misperception of reality and the unreality of perception, and everything between, beside and within, but never do I feel any real progress. Only the craving to find another, grander, more elusive idea.

Maybe the next one will leave me with more than stained sheets.

Note 1: an orifice is just as capable of fucking a phallus as vise versa, but this came to me in the more contemporary sexual terms of Western society.

Note 2: I would like to thank all the porn I have watched and read for making the sex part of this almost as easy to write as the philosophy part.

Note 3: if you think the “philosophy” above is anything other than catch phrases and BS strung together, you need to read more.

Note 4: if that turned you on at all, you need to get out more.