First and Foreplay

Let me say that I don't much like the new environment at Blogger. But since I ain't in charge, I guess I'll get used to it.

Here's an example of an interesting but useless statistic. Nonetheless, it's a strong argument for funding public transport.

In a similar vein, this.

So what's with our obsession with sex? Our need to know who's getting it, from whom, and how often?

As a teenager and, later, a twentysomething (a status I kept for almost ten years), I was indeed obsessed with sex. But rarely anyone else's. I wanted to know where I was getting it from next, and how to convince her.

The lurid "scandals" of late are tawdry and not worth our efforts. This is much more fascinating. It might be love, if we were interested.

So why so little interest in love (People magazine claims to be interested, but really they just want more boobs and butts on the front cover), and such a morbid obsession with sex?

Why do we seem, as a society (by which I mean most of humanity), to have this deep and pathalogical urge to ₤µ€λ about with something which is actually fundamental to our being?

Just askin'