Distraction is a problem for me. I should be writing this column - broadcasting sexual wisdom to you, the men and women of Hopkins - but instead I'm stuck out on a lonely raft, somewhere on an ocean of lies, prophesies and smut.
In other words, I'm on the Internet. Actually, I'm at 43things.com to be precise, one of those abominable "Web 2.0" confections. This one asks its visitors: What do you want to do with your life? Some 850,000 submissions are in, displayed as a glimmering nebula of personal goals: Go to sleep earlier. Find myself. Floss daily. I'm glad I'm not one of these people. And then I find, nestled between Learn Portuguese and Go to the gym regularly, a tiny diamond in the rough:
I want to get laid.
Twelve hundred visitors have written this. 2,262 people have submitted Have sex. The more laconic Sex has 1,567 affidavits. The world is speaking, folks.
Wait... What? That's what you want to do with your life - hump? That's your best shot at meaning, at glory, at everlasting life? What ever happened to Making your mark on this earth? (16 submissions.)
Some people, it's true, achieve immortality more easily than others. Some will be remembered because they had really fantastic beards. Auguste Rodin had one 18 inches wide and down to his tits. A mastodon's eyebrow. Rodin achieved immortality not only for his facial hair, but also for his 1902 masterpiece The Thinker. Or Le Penseur, as it known by the French, and by people at cocktail parties trying to sound sophisticated.
For 105 years, chin-strokers and chain-smokers alike have asked, "What is The Thinker thinking about?" Various answers have been posed: beauty, truth, electrical engineering.
But this question has always had an clear answer: The Thinker is thinking, I need to get laid. It's obvious, isn't it? The guy has the basics down. He's been working out. Good work. He's taken all his clothes off. Okay, on the right track, if jumping the gun a little. But he doesn't know what to do next. And so there he sits, and ponders. You can see it in his stony eyes. I need me some sweet, sweet pussy.
Which brings me to the topic of this week's column, "How to get laid." Here are some ideas, which, if you are really desperate, may be helpful.
Idea #1. Invent a religion.
This tip certainly worked for the ancient Egyptians. In the sun-beaten city streets, in the shadows of the pyramids, in city street corners, the rampant availability of poonani rivaled that of a modern north-south Montreal night bus.
Egyptian religious texts have more sex than Danielle Steele (either way you read that). The gods are always screwing each other, mortals, their wives, their cousins. Egyptian girls often joined dancing troupes, the main object of which was to attract men and thereby get impregnated. Some women would simply walk through the moonlit streets wearing nothing but cosmetics.
And if you wanted that sweet smell of success without really trying, your best bet would have been to land yourself in Luxor, the Tijuana of the ancient Near East, where Egyptians gathered annually for the Egyptian New Year -- also known as the Festival of Drunkenness. Like some New Year's parties you may have attended, the imperative here was for everyone to get wasted and have as much sex as possible.
The event was not merely a pleasure romp; it was a religious ritual. The festival's purpose was actually to commemorate the day the human race was rescued from the war goddess Sekhmet, who one day, in her anger, decided to destroy mankind. The sun god Ra gave her lots of beer, making her think it was human blood. She conked out on booze, and humanity was saved.
Idea #2. Castrate yourself.
During the Age of Reason, one of the surest ways to get yourself some nookie would be ... Oh, guess! Yup, you got it: guillotine your balls. Not only would you qualify for a top-shilling job as a castrato vocalist -- singing melodies high enough to shatter champagne flutes -- you would also become, yes, the Ladies' Man of 1727.
Why? Charles Ancillon, a respected scholar of the time, explained that eunuchs (blokes bereft of balls) practiced sinful but safe sex, and were thus more attractive to lusty ladies: "[I]t is certain that an Eunuch can only satisfy the Desires of the Flesh, Sensuality, Impurity, and Debauchery; and as they are not capable of Procreation, they are . . . more esteem'd for that Reason by lewd Women, because they can give them all the Satisfaction without running any Risk of Danger."
Ancillon's contemporary Constantia Phillips wrote why women were drawn to the junkless in a 1735 lyric, in which she explained why women felt they could unlace their corsets for castrated blokes without risking looking like a slut: "Eunuchs can give uninterrupted Joys, / Without the shameful Curse of Girls or Boys: / The violated Prude her Shape retains / A Vestal in the publick Eye remains."
Idea #3. Invent a language.
In societies where homosexuality is a crime, "how can I get laid?" is a difficult question to answer if you are gay. You will need to find a way to keep your sexual orientation secret from the police, while still ensuring that people in your area who do need to know -- the hot people you want to screw -- are made aware.
London's gay communities once used an underground dialect called Polari, a hybrid of Italian, Yiddish, Romany (a Gypsy language), and a number of slangs, including the rhyming slang used by London's cockneys and the ship slang used by gay men in the Merchant Navy.
The language borrowed words from the slang lexicons of other stigmatized groups, and was used primarily by working-class gay men from the end of the 19th century to the 1960s. Here is some essential Polari lingo you would need to navigate a gay bar in one of London's red-light districts:
Dish: an attractive man.
Trollies: trousers.
Omee-palone: a gay guy.
Palone-omee: a lesbian.
To find out if that dish in the tight leather trollies is gay, you might ask "Is he in the life?" or "Is he so?" with a spurious Italian accent on the last word.
Your mother: often used by older gay men in company to describe themselves, as in "come sit here and tell your mother all about it."
Naff: this can mean dull or tasteless, or it can refer to a heterosexual. The word may have originally been an abbreviation: "Not Available For F--g," invented by American troops in Europe in World War II. If you travel to the UK today you will hear many a Brit using this word to refer to things unsophisticated or clich??d.
Jennifer Justice: the fuzz. Also Lilly Law and Betty Bracelets.
Meshigener: A word from Yiddish meaning crazy.
Sweet martini: left hand.
Dry martini: right hand.
Cruising: looking for sex. Cottaging meant to have sex in public restrooms.
Rogering cheat: penis.
Flange or Minge: vagina.
Putting on the dish: to apply lubricant to the anus in preparation for anal sex.
Rimming: mouth-to-ass sex. Also called: Tipping the brandy or Tipping the velvet.
That's all I've got for you this week, Hopkins. I hope I've left you satisfied, furnished with some inspirational knowledge, which --- who knows? -- may come in handy.
