Hypersex

Consider the following examples. On a popular Internet dating site, a beautiful 19-year-old Londoner says she’s looking for adult fun with a married man over 30. She says she ‘gets wet just thinking that he is cheating on her’ and promises to let him ‘cum all over me’ on their first date. A breathtaking 18-year-old blonde from Cumbria who describes herself as very posh says she’s seeking a black hunk, or maybe two, for an ‘intimate encounter’. A Yorkshire blonde sporting an impressive cleavage in her photo declares her exclusive interest in men in uniform: policemen, soldiers and sailors. But, she adds, traffic wardens, Salvation Army etc need not apply.

The sex lives of these women are driven by a particular sexual peccadillo. Only partners who can satisfy it are sought. The conventional route to sex: falling in love/lust with someone for their own sake and then going to bed with them has become redundant. Now sexual fantasy takes precedence over romance.

The philosopher Jean Baudrillard, the champion of the concept of the hyperreal (the ‘more real than real’), put forward a persuasive case that the modern world is groaning under fakeness, artificiality and simulation, to the extent that these have become more representative of our real experiences nowadays that reality itself. Why is a TV show like Friends so popular? For Baudrillard, the reason is that this programme presents a simulated, idealised, hyperreal account of friendship that’s vastly more appealing than the messy friendships we actually have. Viewers start to relate more to Rachel, Joey, Chandler etc and to take more interest in their fake lives and dramas than they do in the real lives of their real friends. The same is true of the protagonists of soaps, dramas, Reality TV and so on.

If Baudrillard is right then the prefix ‘hyper’ can be attached to every human activity. Islamic and Christian fundamentalism become examples of hyperreligion where people start to adopt a preposterously idealised and inflexible view of their beliefs, rendering compromise impossible. Self-immolation, as the final expression of the ideal, becomes practically mandatory. The Virginia Tech killer, Cho Seung-Hui, goes out in a blaze of hyperviolence, leaving tapes to immortalise himself that he will never see. The wealthy are more and more the hyperwealthy, demanding greater and greater rewards for their increasingly nebulous talents, and engaging in hyperspending to flaunt their riches. The overweight aren’t just fat these days, they’re hyperfat. Supermodels are hyperbeautiful. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt aren’t merely famous, they’re hypercelebrities. We’re drowning in a hypersea of impossible ideals and fantasy lives, and everyone craves their share of hyper experiences for fear, ironically, of missing out on ‘real’ life. Enter hypersex, the one supremely potent arena where most people can hope to get some slice of the action.

Baudrillard describes an extraordinary sexual event that he witnessed in Japan: ‘Prostitutes, their thighs open, sitting on the edge of a platform, Japanese workers in their shirt-sleeves … permitted to shove their noses up to their eyeballs within the woman's vagina in order to see, to see better – but what?’Incredibly, he has missed the whole point. Seeing ‘something’ isn’t the issue for these Japanese men. What could be more hypersexual than to pop out from work at lunchtime, and within minutes to have your head lodged between a beautiful model’s glistening thighs and be pressed right up against her pudendum, smelling her perfume, feeling the embrace of her flesh, in intimate contact with the most intimate part of her body. It’s hypersex overload, a bombardment of all the senses and requires no further explanation or justification. If you don’t ‘get it’, your libido’s obviously shot.

In E4’s jaw-droppingly bizarre Sex in Court TV show, a woman is found ‘guilty’ of not giving her fiancé oral sex and is ordered to attend a course on fellatio. The ‘jurors’ were obsessed with the concept of reciprocity. If he licked her, they asserted, she should suck him. None of them considered the precedent they were setting: that a woman should be ‘persuaded’ to perform sexual acts abhorrent to her. This is just one step from advocating that she should be pressured to have sexual intercourse against her will.

In The Sunday Sport, a parade of glamour models are asked to comment on whether they enjoy ‘bum fun’. Two teenagers are interviewed and allegedly claim that they are Britain’s biggest ‘slappers’, have slept with hundreds of ‘lads’ and particularly enjoy gang-bangs and ‘roastings’.

While I was researching online dating, a brand new profile appeared on one of the sites, posted by a beautiful brunette (37, and a mother) from the North East. She said she was in an unhappy, sexless marriage and, rightly or wrongly, she was now seeking adult fun. Within twenty-four hours, an incredible fifty-five men had listed her as one of their favourites, and many had rated her photograph as ten out of ten. In all probability, she received scores of offers of casual sex. Many would be from weirdos and desperadoes, of course, but no doubt a few were from hunky, desirable men. Imagine this woman’s state of mind. One minute she feels like an unwanted frump, the next she’s being treated as a goddess by a legion of slavering men. She has opened the door to the hyperreal and hypersex.

I’ve monitored her progress over the last few days and noticed that she’s now online constantly (the system provides this kind of detail!), no doubt addicted to the online veneration she’s receiving, and the number of men who have rated her as a favourite is rising inexorably and is now over eighty. So, go on ladies, if you’re feeling a bit unloved and in need of an ego massage, post an attractive picture of yourself on a dating site, declare that you’re actively seeking adult fun and within minutes your inbox will be deluged with messages from men begging you to sleep with them.

The script is already written for how the brunette’s online sexscapade will play out. She will meet several men for casual sex, her behaviour will alter radically, and even her inattentive husband won’t fail to notice. Arguments will erupt, the truth will come out in the midst of a blazing row, and in six months’ time the brunette will be separated from her husband, and awaiting divorce. She will have joined the ranks of single mothers, and she and her ex-husband will be searching for separate homes, thus doing their bit to fuel the housing boom. Such is the relentless logic of hypersex.

Of course, most postings on dating sites still belong to ‘old-world’ sex. Dinosaur women still provide ridiculous lists of the qualities they demand from prospective partners. Their musings reflect the tediousMills and Boon/Pride and Prejudice mindset to which so many women seem bonded. One declares that her ideal first date would be ‘walking hand-in-hand on a deserted beach in the moonlight listening to the waves.’ Contrast this with the hypersex posting of a 28-year-old Merseysider who lists her interests as: ‘sex sex sex blow jobs pussy lickin anal.’ Sensational semi-nude photos accompany her profile. She says of herself: ‘hay guys u can see what am intrested in so come and get me i like to **** as much as i can been caled a slut in the past but hay i like sex i do do come on message me xxxxxxxxxxx.’ Her ideal first date would be: ‘drinks then some of the above…’

There’s simply no debate about which of these two will attract more male attention. Hypersex always wins, so when are the dinosaurs going to get with the programme? Another beauty, a Scottish stripper, says in relation to a prospective first date: ‘no date just sex.’ This could easily be the motto of hypersex. She says of herself: ‘hi i am a single woman looking for a man for no strings attached sex i like trying new things like loads of kinky sex mmmmmmmmm if u think ur brave enough leave me a message if not **** off.’

Yesterday, I passed an Ann Summers’ shop and noticed an eye-catching nun’s outfit, given a suitably hypersex spin, of course. Perhaps it won’t be long until hijabs, niqabs and burqas are similarly fetishised. Think of the irony; the very items of clothing designed to protect a woman’s modesty will be transformed by hypersex into the precise opposite – the quintessence of immodesty. What will those who wear these garments do if they discover that nymphets using the self-same garments as fantasy-sex aids populate bedrooms all over the country? The power of hypersex is unstoppable, sweeping aside all obstacles.

I haven’t even mentioned the growth of the dogging and swinging industries, and activities like bukkake (best not to ask!). Then there’s the well-known phenomenon of old romances being re-ignited byFriends Reunited, often fatally undermining current marriages. The stark truth is that the sexual terrain of Britain has changed beyond recognition. People can indulge their sexual fetishes as never before. Hardcore porn, catering for every conceivable taste, is easily accessible on the Internet. Homes are awash with R18 DVDs, and a plethora of sex toys. Conventional relationships can’t keep up and no longer accommodate people’s sexual natures. Hypersex is here to stay, and it’s time society faced up to the revolution that’s occurring in bedrooms all over the country.

All debates about sex, drugs, education, marriage, the family etc ought to be viewed through the prism of hyperreality. The tragedy is that no politicians, no policy-makers, no Think Tanks, no opinion formers are philosophically literate, and they certainly haven’t heard of Baudrillard. They continue to churn out their ancient nostrums, their ‘solutions’ to the problems of an old world that no longer exists. They haven’t begun to comprehend the nature of the new paradigm we have all entered.

The logic of hyperreality has chilling consequences. Increasing polarisation is inevitable. The gap between rich and poor will widen. Eventually there will be a violent standoff between the hyperrich and the hyperpoor. The hypereducated will soon be like a different species to the hyperuneducated. The hyperreligious will come into open conflict with the hypersecular. Hypercelebrities will bestride the world like Olympian gods, and sprinkle hyperdepression in their wake as all the rest of us look on and know that our lives will never match these dream existences. Hyperdrugs will wreak havoc; hypersex will destroy the traditional family. Computer-generated hyper-virtual-reality will further erode any sense of what is real.

Britain has been declared the worst place in the advanced world in which to bring up a child. Not a single commentator observed that hyperreality is the true cause of this catastrophe. The British, with our poisonous hypertabloid newspapers, our hyperdisdain for intellectuals, our enslavement to hypercelebrity and hyperreality TV, our hyperconsumerism, hyperobsession with house prices and propensity for weekend hyperbingeing have created a hyperhell. We are the hyperdamned.

When are we going to face facts? We’re all kinky now, our excesses are out of control and are destroying us. Sure there are medicines – hypermedicines – but they’ll make us feel hypersick before they make us better, and none of us has the stomach for that. Time for a hyperreality check?