Did you know that someone, after breaking up with her bow, (not "beau;" you'll see where this is going) actually got married to the Eiffel Tower?
This is not a diatribe against some newfangled city charter amendment or some sort of metaphor, but an invitation to sit and reflect for a moment.
She dated a piece of archery equipment. She's married. To the Eiffel Tower.
There are about 40 individuals in the world who, for reasons unknown to psychology or to science, are exclusively attracted to public objects.
Examples included but are not limited to: the Eiffel Tower, the Berlin Wall (now widowed), a fencepost, a carnival ride and the Golden Gate Bridge.
These people, deemed objectumsexuals, are so rare, so esoteric, that they even escape the omnipotence of Wikipedia. Their antics of weird, public masturbation have only been documented a handful of times. I have seen one of these documentaries twice. I will never be the same.
The existence of such a group makes me wonder what sort of power they could have if they were politically mobilized (the best part of this daydream obviously being Richard Selwach trying to keep them out of public restrooms, lest they decide to stick their collective dicks inside a hand dryer).
The documentary I watched claimed that less than 100 "OS" people exist. But a quick Google search fielded many communities for people with this specific fetish, which suggests that these people make up at least a percentage of our population. In case you're interested, some choice selections include "objectsofmine," "abstractwarmth," and "appliancelove."
What's more, I bet the number 40 will proliferate into something like 40,000. Whether we look at text messaging, instant messenging, Facebook or e-mail, the way humans interact is increasingly mediated by inscription and communication technologies.
People getting married on World of Warcraft is just a sign of the larger trend to come. There are people who connect to Xbox Live more than they will ever connect with another human being.
Even though I feel that I'm giving this thing far too much credit as a legitimate sexual expression (when it's probably just a mixture between Asperger's and a history of abuse), it poses other interesting thought experiments.
For example: What does it really mean when you say you "love" your iPhone?
Another: Can an object break up with you?
Another: If your love-object is a guillotine, does that also make you a masochist?
Anyway, I'm sure that if I could stop laughing for a second, I could use object-sexuality as a springboard to dissect at least some aspect of our culture.
The laughing part coupled with the revulsion, though, is making me feel guilty. I'd like to think I'm open-minded, but I can't tell where I'm supposed to draw the line. Perusing some of the online communities for OS people wasn't as creepy as I expected. In fact, lots of the posts were well-reasoned and heartfelt, and the other ones (by the innumerable hackers) brought legitimate sadness to the community members, who still remained undeterred in their quest to express themselves.
I think where I find myself is halfway between disapproval and sympathy. It goes without saying that one of the most rewarding aspects of life comes from engaging others in meaningful discourse.
Focusing on something inanimate is almost egotistical; you can't be contradicted, dissected or challenged. If clinging to cold steel is a behavior that can't be unlearned, though, do what you have to do in order to attain some semblance of intimacy.
Although, as I sort this out there is probably a sitcom in the works about a wild and wacky objectumsexual stripper who loves her job (and her pole) and then teaches her friends that she's just like them. I'll just wait until then.
Allie Conti is an English junior. Her column appears weekly.
