(About a 5 minute read)
It has long been my personal, tender opinion that the pure Japanese genius for first seeing nearly everything as an aesthetic experience, and for then optimizing the aesthetics of those experiences — that the Japanese genius for that has only been defeated once — and once only — in the entire cultural history of that remarkable people.
The Japanese genius for aesthetics was overthrown when it took on sex.
To be sure, not wholly overthrown. Not wholly defeated. In fact, the Japanese still in most ways beat most cultures when it comes to optimizing sexual aesthetics. At least, that’s how I see it.
(For those who are curious, I am basing my views here on much more than merely my experiences with my second wife, Tomoko. i.e. I believe, based on both formal academic studies and various informal studies, that nearly anyone might find it profits them in bed to study the spirit of the Japanese approach to aesthetics.)
I could be right or wrong about this, but my tender, delicate opinion is that, when it comes to sex, the Japanese genius for aesthetics is screwed up and butt-fucked raw and bleeding by heinous, ugly misogyny. What a waste of living that is!
Meh, the Greeks got it right we’re a tragic species. Perfection cannot be demanded of us.
Just now and then, maybe some optimization, please?
Unfortunately, with the Japanese out of the race owing to having shot themselves in the foot with the starting gun, the fine art of the simpatico fuck is culturally lost to the world. According to the currently available science, not even the French honestly achieve it as a culture, despite rumors to the contrary.
Of course in this context, “simpatico” is short-hand for the almost novel and apparently alarming idea that the quality of fucks in your life is far more important than the quantity. The notion of simpatico fucking can be seen as precisely the opposite of the popular and beloved-by-many mantra, “Sex is like pizza. Even when it’s bad, it’s good.”
If you honestly believe that mantra, you have not been where I’ve been. Or perhaps — as my two ex-wives might put it — “You have not been where my partners have been”.
Today, through-out nearly the entire industrialized world, anyone but a shamelessly whining ass can get laid. By “shamingless whining ass”, I of course mean an Incel.
There is so much that is ironic about a group of men living in industrial nations, living in the 21st Century, living, apparently, for the sole purpose of claiming they are “involuntarily” celibate.
By the gods, we need Python back! Who besides those good folks can possibly take on the Everest of Gratuitous Whining that is the Incel Movement?
Today, anyone can get laid. Even an Incel, if only he’d get off his precious butt, drop his misogamy, and learn some decency when it comes to how he thinks of and treats women. In so much of the world today, celibacy is only an option.
(By the way I’m always quite secretly — secretly and quite privately — disgusted with misogyny. Only those who have been years-close to me have ever get a proper hint of it. I’ve also had 3,697 sex partners, not counting the domestic animals.)
So why — if anyone can get laid — is fucking still pathetically bad? Does it make even one wit of sense to you that almost all the science — along with a huge volume of anecdotal evidence — boils down to the fact that for hundreds of millions of relatively practiced people, sex is astonishingly poor quality — especially for women.
Is it possible for anyone to truly absorb and digest that fact without feeling stupefied by it?
Given the wonderful benefits of good sex, given how much good sex can enrich and enhance or lives, the apparent lack of good sex should everywhere on earth be treated with the same urgent intensity we typically reserve for combating pandemics. I mean, can you think of some good reason not to go all out to realize the potential of sex for uplifting the quality of human lives?
To be sure, some people will no matter what their education practice irresponsible sex. But allowing that to be an objection to educating people in how to optimize their sex lives is about as lame as saying we ought to abolish cars because some fraction of fools among us cannot or will not drive responsibly.
Ok, I think by now you have gotten my subtle hints that we need to do something about the apparently well-established fact that a large portion of us (surely, not everyone!) could use a little informed help when it comes to achieving “simpatico sex”.
I mean, I haven’t been holding much back here, have I? Except, of course, my well-hidden thoughts and feelings about misogyny. But I’ll save those for some day when I feel actually comfortable about expressing myself — assuming such a day might ever come to a man as shy as me.