So I had a minute to myself today and I thought I would tell my (virtually nonexistent) readers a little bit about the beautiful name of my blog: polymorphously perverse. Doesn’t it sound wonderful? The mere uttering of the phrase creates a mouthful of sublime oral pleasures. The originator of the term did not exactly mean it so but it means something wonderful too. How often do we get that?
The term belongs to good old Freud who was always on the verge of something great but for some odd reason consistently managed to reach the wrong conclusions every damn time. If there is an award for that, somebody please give it to the poor guy. I mean how in the hell do you begin with something as strange and unbounded as dreams yet end up with shit like penis envy and Oedipus Complex?
Freud used polymorphous perversity to describe a phase in child sexual development that he restricted to the time between infancy and five years old. During this time the child may derive sexual pleasure from any part of the body. (Of course according to dear Freud, the only proper location of sexual gratification is the genitalia). The objects and directions of satisfaction at this point are also myriad: basically anything and everyone that may produce pleasure. A crayon, your mom’s fave rug, the corner of the sofa, a button, your cousin, the stray puppy, what have you. Freud, in his neat and consistent delusions, thought that most children go through three successive stages (oral, anal & phallic) before they finally end up at the socially normative heterosexual behavior located solely in genitalia with the ultimate goal of reproduction. Guess what? Anything short of this end goal after age 5 and you are (applause, confetti, fire alarm) a pervert.
Unwittingly, Freud seems to have provided us with a great definition. Not just a definition but a way of relating to the world and our bodies which opens up countless possibilities for pleasure. Add to the mix the essential ethical ingredient of consent and it’s water-tight: a pansexual nongenitalious nonreproductive kind of sexuality with unequivocal enthusiastic consent from all sentient (I don’t think the crayon minds) parties involved. And so I reclaim the title with pride.
Now go hump something and feel smug about it.