Let's celebrate with some champagne.
You know what this culture lacks?
A proper sex holiday.
There are a few that come close. Valentine’s, of course.
However, Valentine’s isn’t really about sex. It’s about romance. And, martyrs.
Halloween can be pretty risque, but it is about death and transformation–close, but no cigar (Freudian rimshot, hello.)
Prom night, here in the States. Which, generally, happens at about the right time for these sorts of things.
Really, the closest thing we’ve got to a holdover sex festival is Easter. Think about that. Easter. Wherein the tortured, mutilated, dead virgin-God finally ascends. The crowning moment in a religion that totally eschews physicality. Bunnies laying eggs on Golgotha while inferior women weep below.
That is not sexy.
What we don’t have is something like this.
