Well YouTube, I’ve been making videos for months about the most controversial possible topics, but recently it seems only one person has had the Goddamn Balls to make a response. And who’s that? Well, his name is the Distribution—[picks up paper] the Distribute—[throws paper] look I’m just gonna call him Chesterton, because his avatar is a cartoon of G.K. Chesterton. So look here, Chesterton: we’ve got beef.

Take a seat, Chesterton. Have some grapes. Try the wine. I trust you’ll find everything… sumptuous?

So Chesterton is a Catholic traditionalist YouTuber, and he’s made a four-part series of videos titled “Lies of the Sexual Revolution,” featuring Dan Savage, Laci Green, Lena Dunham?, and me. Wait, why am I in this video? These other people are way more famous than I am. I guess it’s good company. I mean, Dan Savage is awesome, Laci Green does a public service. You know, her videos aren’t really for me, but, 

Why do men think everything has to be for them? Laci’s videos are for naïve 16-year-old girls, not jaded 28-year-old perverts. And that’s fine.

Anyway he’s put black bars over our mouths, with the word “LIES,” so that’s good. 

In any case, I’m happy to be cast as a promoter of the sexual revolution, so let’s do this. And ladies, you might wanna dig that bottle of Prosecco out of the back of the fridge, because, I’m gonna warn you in advance, this video is gonna be two weird men on the Internet debating what kind of sex you should have—I’m so sorry.

Dies iræ, dies illaSolvet sæclum in favilla

So, Chesterton’s got beef with my video about Pick-Up Artists, remember, the one about Bang.

Well look, G.K. One of your main arguments in this video is that feminists have no ground to criticize pick-up artists because you claim they believe that consent is the only requirement for good sex. But that’s not what feminists believe. It’s not what I believe. All consent does is establish that the sex is not rape, but that is a very low bar to set, Chesterton, both ethically and erotically, and I’m sure you’ll agree.

There’s all kinds of ways that consensual sex can be ethically questionable. For instance, if there’s manipulation or deceit involved, if a person with a lot of emotional involvement is exploited by someone with no emotional involvement, and so on. And pretty much any feminist I know will acknowledge this. In fact, the raddest of the rad fems think that pretty much all sex is problematic, because of like power dynamics, even if that’s what they’re into. And as it happens, a lot of them are.

The feminist critique of the pick-up artist mentality basically says that Roosh and company treat women as a mere means to sex, without any respect for their wishes or humanity. But in my video I took the ethical issue as read, and basically just bashed Roosh for being a bad hedonist. Because at least pleasure is a worthwhile goal, whereas tabulating your bangs in a futile attempt to prop up your needy ego is, uh, not.

So I took to Chesterton’s comments section and we had a quick exchange where things got pretty personal, pretty fast. He asked me if I knew how emotionally damaging sexual promiscuity could be to my partners, to which I respond well…

Well if we’re talking emotional damage, I mean of course there’s gonna be emotional damage, of course there is. We’re all gonna have a little emotional damage. I’m emotionally damaged right now.

But the good news is that the emotional damage caused by casual sex is really just a kind of emptiness of the soul, a feeling of meaninglessness. And I, Chesterton, am a veteran of feelings of meaninglessness which, wah wah, get drunk in bed for a couple days and get over it. I mean if anything it’s romantic love that causes the real damage. You know, it’s the romantic love people who are the ones throwing themselves off bridges and generally behaving like a fuckin jackass.

And to be clear, I am not a sex guru, I am not a love guru, I am not suggesting that anyone try to emulate my behavior. I am a person on the threshold of being unable to function in society. And to be honest, I find casual sex kind of difficult myself. That’s why I need the drugs. 

The drugs, Chesterton! You’ve failed to consider the drugs! None of this is possible without the drugs! The drugs, Chesterton, the drugs! You got your wine. Your caffeine pills. Your rhinestones. The drugs are simply the best way to shut down the garbage emotions, you know, like shame, and fear, anxiety, you know, empathy….

And that’s why the sexual revolution is good for women. If you liked this video, don’t forget to leave a comment.

I am weary of this beef. Let us go to the drawing room.

Now G.K. has accused me of being glib and insincere, so I guess I better stop fucking around and explain what I actually think, huh.

So basically what I think, is that in a free society, different people will have lots of different sexual lifestyles. Some people will want to settle down and get married and that’s fine. Some people will wanna have a fucking baby, and that’s fine too. I mean someone has to. And some people will wanna dip their balls in hot wax and pour wolf’s milk all over a stranger’s face and that’s also fine. Some people won’t want to have sex or romance at all. And any of these lifestyles can lead to emotional damage: heartbreak, loneliness, excruciating boredom, this is just the human condition. You take emotional risks no matter what you do.

But as a society we could make sex less risky for women by ending slut-shaming and rape culture, and instituting all-you-can-eat birth control. Hence, you know, feminism.

And there are also things that we can do as individuals to be safer, kinder, and more responsible. If you choose to have casual sex, things are gonna go a lot better for you and your partners if you stay honest, open and communicative about what your intentions are. And use condoms for God’s sake. Don’t get pregnant or get anyone pregnant. That’s a real downer, echoing God’s act of creation by bringing new life into the world. It’s disgusting.

Now, speaking of God, there’s not really any avoiding that a lot of what separates my perspective on this stuff from G.K’s, is the whole God issue. Now, I’m reluctant to go into this too much, because, well, it’s come to my attention that there are already two or three YouTube videos on the subject of atheism, and I wouldn’t wanna be redundant.

But Chesterton did suggest that I read Pope J.P.2’s lectures on the Theology of the Body, so we can take a look at that. I’m guessing this calls for a script and a voiceover: hit it, Johnson.

So according to a book I read, God created man in his own image. And then he made a chick version of the man. And they enjoyed a kind of pure sexuality based on the unity of their flesh, without the corruption of lust, covetousness, or general concupiscence. Then the dumb fucking woman ate the apple and now everything sucks, because our hearts are corrupted by sin, and our sexuality is perverted. But the good news is that we’re redeemable, and through the majesty of conjugal love, we’re still capable of recognizing the spiritual essence of God made visible in the form of the human body, and the unity of our nuptial flesh parts, making babies. Uh.

Johnson was very glib and sarcastic. Let the record show that I don’t approve of that kind of thing. Dessert, anyone?

I meant to get a dessert thing before filming today, but I forgot, so eat your fucking beans.

So actually, there are some things about the theology of the body that I kind of agree with. I agree that there is something a little messed up about lust. Not sexual attraction in itself, I mean the creepy, covetous, looking at T&A on the subway platform raw desire to possess a human body. What kind of thing is that to want? It's creepy, it’s intrusive, it’s unpleasant. I don’t care for it. So, granted.

The other thing I like is the idea that the sexual attraction to a human body is really a lesser manifestation of a higher longing. There’s a famous quote, often falsely attributed to the historical G.K. Chesterton, that goes “The man who rings the bell at the brothel, unconsciously does so seeking God.” 

Now this is really a Platonic idea. In the Symposium, Plato speaks about the highest form of love as the contemplation of the beautiful bodies of young boys. [long pause] I mean, that’s what he says, the fucking pederast.

The idea is that contemplation of the physical beauty of bodies leads you to the more refined contemplation of beauty itself, and I’m not really with Plato on the details here, and I’m not with the Catholics either. 

They’re being too specific, but I would agree that carnal desire contains a longing for something beyond coming in or around another person. There’s an urge, behind the sexual urge, for a kind of transcendence, which may be why the naked body features so often in art.

And to me, a person apparently deaf to the voice of God, transcendence lies in the little spine-tingling moments where I feel elevated above ordinary experience. It’s watching dabs of paint resolve into interplay of sunlight and shadow; it’s the peak of a sweet fucking guitar solo; it’s the ability to regard the sadness and desperation of human life with simultaneous horror and humor.

And in a sense this is only the illusion of transcendence, since I’m not really getting outside of human experience, I’m just pushing it to the limit. But as I see it all transcendence is an illusion, there is no reaching beyond human consciousness. But at least in my illusion there’s a kind of liberation from mere biology, unlike J.P.’s procreative conjugal love transcendence, or the Golden One’s procreative racialist transcendence. The problem with you guys is you’re obsessed with sex and procreation.

Am I the only genuine goddamn spiritualist around here? Social conservatives, with their fixation on suppressing individual urges for the good of the species, are starting to sound like a bunch of crypto-Darwinists. Whereas, I, for one, believe the individual human spirit can aspire to something higher.

And that is why I’m not, at heart, really a hedonist. Hedonism is only a viable philosophy for three to four hours at a time. Possibly as many as ten or twelve with the right drugs. But that’s it. That’s the limit on the intervals of pleasure, and when you wake up after the crash, you’re gonna need another reason to not die.

So that’s the point of transcendence. And also, you know, friends. And there’s stuff you can do to mitigate the crash too. I wonder how much of the horror and disdain social conservatives have for “degeneracy” has to do with feelings of shame and self-loathing that could be overcome with the right conditioning.

For instance, the Golden One—yes I am obsessed with him and I do spend all my time thinking about him—has been on a “no-fap” kick lately to preserve his masculine vitality or whatever. And a lot of guys are getting into this now. I don’t know what it is about humans, we just love coming up with reasons to make ourselves not come.

Anyway I think I’ve got a different solution, fellas, and you can consider this homework. Next time you cave—and you will—and indulge in a session of clammy self-abuse, try listening to classical music. I think you’ll find the highbrow associations will stave off feelings of degeneracy.

Maybe choose something with a solo violin. Yes. The cellos underneath are your heartbeat, the veritable life pulse. I want you to focus your rising passion on the thread of the violin. That is your moan of ecstasy, the song of your soul. You can start using your imagination now, think about whatever you’re into. Yeah. Yeah. Don’t lose the melody though. You’re going to want to peak with the thrill and cadence. Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Fuck. Unggg.

And that’s, uh, the meaning of life. So, checkmate Catholics.