Masturbation

When one of the characters in Christopher Hampton's play, The Philanthropist said "Masturbation is the thinking man’s television.” He gave us one of the great immortal lines of modern drama and one of the great truths about humankind. In my opening post I said that most of us have created an ivory tower in our head into which we could escape when necessary, and masturbation is the inner sanctum, the velvet lined holy of holies within that ivory tower.

I don’t believe in God but if I did, whenever I went down on bended knee at night, the thing I would give most thanks for would be for making the great gift of masturbation to humankind. Masturbation is democracy made flesh, it is all things to all men, and of course to women. Whoever you are, young or old, ugly or beautiful, rich or poor, or clever or stupid, like the balmy air of a summer morning, masturbation is a joy available to all of us. Possibly one can get greater emotional satisfaction from body on body sex, and arguably better orgasms, though that's not a foregone conclusion, but not all of us can afford to dine at the finest European restaurants on a regular basis. On the other hand, with a little care and thought we can prepare a magnificent sexual feast for ourselves cooked with the finest ingredients freshly picked from our personal fantasies.

And with masturbation, everything is always on the menu. Nothing and no one is off limits, no man too rich or handsome, no girl too classsy or out of reach. In our head we can fly to the stars or wallow in the muddiest gutter depending on our mood. If you want to take Penelope Cruz across your knee and spank her (What a give away!) or be tied naked to a tree by Rufus Sewell (Have I no secrets left?) it’s possible in the theatre of our imagination where we sit in the best seats and are chauffeur driven off to a blissful sleep afterwards.

Enjoy!