November 2000

$ex (Or, How I Learned How to Stop Worrying and Love Premarital Fornication)

Begin to greet thy mother with a smile,

O baby-boy! ten months of weariness

For thee she bore: O baby-boy, begin!

For him, on whom his parents have not smiled...


I often look at my mother, in her current yet undeniably adorable state of pregnancy, and ponder how it is that something so magnificent as a human life can be the end result of coition between a man and a woman. Most sex, in my generation, is committed in the heat of the moment, becoming a grandiose release of sexual tension and frustration; the fact that a child can be produced as an act of this fornication only proves further my belief that it's wrong to have premarital sex, but yet doesn't stop me from violating this belief myself. (One shouldn't assume that I'm promiscuous by this statement, but rather understand that there is a very large difference between having sex with many partners, and having a lot of sex with one partner. That isn't to say that the act is justified, but merely elaborated on for the chronicler's own peace of mind.)

This raises, perhaps, a considerable question of ethics in today's highly unethical world: is sex for the sake of having sex wrong? Or to be more specific, is having sex just because one is "horny" a bad thing? There is no right or wrong answer to that, in my mind, because there are so many scenarios and factors that one must account for when analyzing the subject, and considering the fact that I have procrastinated until the Sunday night before this paper is due to begin analyzing these bits of information, one can only assume that I am, indeed, not going to state whether or not I think having premarital sex is a bad thing in the course of this paper. I will say, however, that if it is viewed as a sin in the eyes of modern-day Christianity for a seventeen year old boy to have sex outside of marriage, especially with another seventeen year old member of the same sex, than I am undoubtedly screwed (note the awkwardly placed pun).

Sex is relative, though. (Please note that I said sex is relative, not sex is a relative, because that is, quite frankly, disgusting, and not a subject I care to approach at this late, late hour. If you do have concerns about inbreeding, please consult your local library, and I'm sure they can provide you with ample resources and 24 hour crisis lines in case, after that 8th beer, your cousin is looking strangely attractive.) I mean, in a country where even our own political leaders have difficulty defining what sex is, how are we supposed to tell our children the facts of life? Sure, ten years ago, a father could sit down on a boat next to his son and explain to him where babies come from, reiterate the importance of abstinence, etc,. etc., and further elaborate on the aforementioned. But now, a child pretty much gets handed a pack of Trojans, K-Y jelly, and a copy of Playboy and given the general advice of "be careful". What is that? I often wonder what it's going to be like forty years from now when my kids sit down to tell my grandchildren what sex is.

"So, Billy {I'm assuming the kid will be named Billy because in every movie where sex is explained to youngsters, the child is inescapably named Billy, and who am I to question the good folks who write these thought-provoking scripts for these highly-informative films?}, as a parent in this high-paced and promiscuous world, it's my responsibility to tell you the facts of life." "Dad, I'm eight years old. Do you honestly think I don't know what sex is? I'm already married, I have two girlfriends and a boyfriend on the side, and I'm pretty sure that I'm the father to an inestimable number of children. I have forty-two forms of STD's, seven of which are unknown, and one of which is only found in koala bears. If there is anything new you can tell me about the world of sex, I will gladly keel over right now of a rather painful outbreak of genital herpes." "Ah. Well, here's a pack of Trojans and a Playboy. Please be careful."

OK, so maybe it won't be that extreme, but you catch my drift. So that brings me back, in part, to my question: is sex wrong? It's something that all parents have done at least once, and I'm pretty sure that it's a prerequisite now in order to get into the White House. But those facts aside, how is one supposed to know when one has crossed the line from "casual making out" to "OK, I need a cigarette"? The mention of sexuality only complicates the issue further, as there are undeniably diverse sexual acts associated with the mere mention of one preference or another. I could go into great detail, at great length, about these acts, but being a person of honor and respectability (please try to control the inevitable laughter that is coming from your mouth... we can wait, if need be...), I won't elaborate. It is, however, an increasing fear of mine that one day two people could have had vaginal and/or anal sex in countless positions, countless times in countless locations, and still have the media and mainstream America think of it merely as "the expected high-jinx of youngsters". That's not to say that only the younger generations are included in this class; I just would prefer not to think of two geriatrics getting their groove thing on. *Shudder* I shouldn't have gone there, forgive me. So, what do you think? Have I successfully managed to frighten you into a state of undeniable fear that your children are eternally condemned to become part of a nation of whores, sluts, and STD-wielding maniacs? If I haven't, congratulations, you're already oblivious to the direction that America has decided to take. If you are, however, concerned that sex is going to kill us all, then welcome to the minority. Please sit back, relax, and accept this pack of Trojans and K-Y jelly on my behalf. Oh, and do be careful, won't you?

Jerid is currently a mentally-unstable sixteen year old from Lynchburg, Virginia. He welcomes your thoughts, comments, and other forms of criticism at InsaneRENTfan@juno.com.

©1995-2000 Oasis Magazine. All Rights Reserved.