Prime
Why nudes and sex tapes are here to stay
It is similar to the affliction of a pimple on the skin. You know that you are better advised to leave it alone to its wiles, to mature at its own pace and then slowly subside.
But you just will not do that. You cannot hold back your fingers from surveying its edges and then suddenly rushing in with a ferocious scratch that causes an explosive lesion, and consequently, turning a simple pimple into a multitude of bigger pimples.
Sometimes we just cannot help causing our own immolation. It is like the fellow with cancerous cells in the lungs who just cannot help reaching out for another pack of cigarettes at the end of the day.
And so it is with our new found love for documenting our indulgence. The human being is a vain and narcissist ic creature. We are fascinated with ourselves to a level of near inebriation.
We cannot have enough of ourselves. Satisfaction with one’s looks today, does nothing to undo the desire to have one’s looks approved of the next day.
Considering that we are supposed to learn from our mistakes or the mistakes of others, you would think the whole world now knows better than to record oneself naked and keep that record on any digital store.
There is only one standard result from such a scenario; if nude images of you exist out there, they will leak. It is only a matter of time.
Those recording sex tapes as I write this know it; we all know it. But that is not going to stop us from sharing images of our naked selves with those we desire to desire us, as a continued parade of our prowess in the reproduction race.
Our affinity to take nude pictures and record ourselves in coital indulgence must stem from the natural stream of insatiable needs. Nude pictures expose a fascination with our morphology and a celebration of certain shapes of the naked form as the best suited for reproduction.
Our social orientation, driving us to maintain common decency and limit articles of our sexual reproduction to the private setting of our bedrooms, is in direct contrast with these natural desires.
It is fighting a losing battle. It is like your brain telling you to leave the pimple alone, well knowing that your fingers will not listen forever; that finally, you will throw all aesthetic caution to the wind and scratch the pimple.
