Sex in Space – Forget Survival, But I’m All-In on the “Well-Being” Part
For some folks, space travel is all about furthering science and accumulating more knowledge of the universe around us. For others, one of the main reasons they want to see humans get better at exploring space is to afford the possibility of colonizing new worlds, so that humanity can survive any pending, world-destroying disasters that might be coming our way — or, indeed, that we might visit upon ourselves, self-destructive little malcontents that we so often are.
Either way, it’s important for humans to master having sex in space. Whether our travels take us on decades-long forays into deep space, or to a relatively short stay at the International Space Station, the experience will be far more enjoyable if we’re able to navigate each other’s bodies in a zero gravity environment as expertly as Han Solo navigated the Anoat Asteroid Belt.
There is a major potential downside to humans mastering the art of space-sex, however: Doing so might enable our species to survive long enough to colonize some poor, unsuspecting planet out there, just to have use raze its rainforests, overfish its seas and otherwise shit all over the culture of any massive blue aliens who happen to be hanging around.
Read Calico’s thoughts on space sex, the dangers of Intergalactic Blue Ball Syndrome and the creepiness of Michael Fassbender in her new post: “Forget Survival, But I’m All-In on the ‘Well-being’ Part.
– Calico Rudasill, Sssh.com Original Award Winning Porn Movies
Among many futurists and a possible-sources-of-the-apocalypse-obsessed people, there’s a strong belief that becoming more adept at space travel and eventually colonizing other planets is crucial to the survival of our species.
Among other things, If we’re all on the same planet, then it takes only one world-ending event to exterminate us all – something that I must admit would make it a lot harder for me to find a plumber when I need one, which I often do, living in a house built in the early 60’s.
The thing is, at the risk of sounding too much like Agent Smith of The Matrix – who already sounds a bit too much like Bill Hicks for my liking – I’m not convinced that survival of the human species is a net gain for the universe.
We’re More of a Parasite than a “Virus,” But You Get the Point
If you’re not familiar enough with The Matrix or Bill Hicks to immediately get those references above, in the film Agent Smith says: “There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet.”
Meanwhile, in one of his comedy routines, performed a couple years before The Matrix was in theaters, Hicks said: “I’m tired of this back-slapping ‘Aren’t humanity neat?’ bullshit. We’re a virus with shoes, okay? That’s all we are.”
Don’t get me wrong: Many individual humans are lovely, wonderful, compassionate, caring and – to borrow a little corporate lingo – a real ‘value add’ to our planet. It’s just that collectively, we’re an absolute nightmare of a species, one I’m pretty sure many of the planet’s other species would be happy to do without. To quote another comedian, Jim Jeffries, “The planet does not give a fuck about us, and it will be happy when we’re gone.”
Who Wouldn’t Want to Join the 5.879e+12 Mile-High Club?
Despite my negative, self-loathing, “humanity sucks” rhetoric above, there is a recent post on The Conversation which makes a case for the importance of humans figuring out how to have sex in space that I find persuasive – or partially persuasive, at least.
“We need to figure out how to have sex in space for human survival and well-being,” is how the authors headline their post.
As you might guess, it’s not the human survival part of this that resonates with me. I just figure that if humans are going to be traveling around in space a lot – something that seems increasingly likely, at least where fabulously wealthy people are concerned – they might as well enjoy one of the very best parts of human existence while they’re at it.
In Space, Nobody Can Hear You Scream – Or Cure Your Blue Balls
The way I see it, other than maybe a Xenomorph XX121, the last thing you’d ever want on a spaceship with you is some extraordinarily horny person who has spent the last several years hurtling across the cosmos without so much as receiving a fingering.
Along those lines, I firmly believe the main reason the creepy android “David” (played by the even creepier Michael Fassbender) went off the damn rails and betrayed the crew of the USCSS Prometheus was sexual frustration.
After all, David was stuck on that ship with a bunch of hotties like Idris Elba, Logan Marshall-Green, Noomi Rapace and Charlize Theron and he didn’t even have so much as the ability to masturbate, let alone the privacy to do so without risking Sean Harris walking in on him.
On the other hand, maybe it’s best that every spaceship have a David on it, lest humanity get too good at this ‘sex in space’ thing and realize the sci-fi dream of colonizing some other world. After all, this would only lead to mass deforestation and a bunch of really pissed off Na’vi.
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