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Things
were quite different
once aliens reared their ugly heads: they were, in fact, the
real pioneers of the sexual revolution in science fiction in
the 70's. Nothing turned the young reader on more than a bunch
of aliens trying to put their hands, or claws, or tentacles
on our terrestrial girls: it was in the 70's that suckers began
to suck nipples. Alien characters and semi-human beings (outcome
of some strange genetic cross) had a great advantage: they could
embody any sexual perversion forbidden to men. Philip Jose Farmer
in The Lovers imagined a relationship between a man and
an alien insect who was destined to die with the birth of her
sons, larvae who instinctively devoured her body. In The
Man Who Folded Himself David Gerrold duplicated the protagonist
in many masculine and feminine copies, posing problems such
as: is it homosexuality or masturbation when he copulates with
a male copy of himself? Or: is it incest when he does it with
a female? Frank Herbert's Mating Call described aliens
who caused pregnancy in terrestrial women by playing their esoteric
music. Proving that voyeurism is universal, Isaac Asimov wrote
Playboy And The Slime God, where a bunch of extraterrestrials
kidnap a man and a woman to see human sexuality at work.
In
some movies
of the 70's and 80's, SF was simply a vehicle for sex scenes:
George Barr's Flesh (with an e) Gordon,
whose adventures take place on the Planet Porno, for instance,
or Baum Baum Thank You Superman, in which two Uranian
soldiers are on mission to Earth to fecundate some terrestrial
women. King Kong was the obvious prototype of this
beauty-and-the-beast scheme, promulgating the basic, illogical
idea that the human female is the sexual object, or
the paradigmatic beauty. Thus, any being in
the universe who is capable of thought has to be attracted
by a pretty young terrestrial woman. Now just turn that point
of view upside down: imagine you are a horrible terrestrial
astronaut, with a strange naked skin, fingers similar to worms,
and a ridiculous bush on a rounded head (which, in fact, you
are); you invade Andromeda's third planet and you should feel
incredibly attracted by the typical female of the planet:
a green creature with six pairs of eyes and an exoskeleton
similar to that of crabs....OK, it's still a carbon-based
form of life, and you might have undertaken a long journey
in abstinence, but it would nevertheless be quite difficult
to get turned on, wouldn't it?
The
trouble with alien sex
is lack of communication. Some might say this is also the
problem among human beings, but the point is that for our
alien neighbors sensations and feelings are
a different world. As the old example says, it's like trying
to describe a color to someone born blind. What is white?
It's the color of swans. And what is a swan? A bird with a
long curved neck. Do you understand? OK, then you know what
white is.... You can manage to understand what an extraterrestrial
being thinks, but you won't guess what he feels. You
can describe what oral sex is, but it will be hard for him
to grok the pleasure you feel when doing it. Usually,
SF's solution was to make alien sex as human as possible.
This way, aliens became much closer to us, and also somehow
appealing. Usually, the sexual relationship in the story takes
place between a man or woman and an extraterrestrial, and
the extraterrestrial is humanoid. Now, a humanoid is
something very close to a human being, but with a fantastic
aspect that makes the difference: it may have a tail or green
skin, but it has to have a pretty girl's face. It may
have a forked tongue and six arms, but it has to have a nice
pair of tits. It may kill the men it loves like the black
widow, but first it has to enjoy some good ol' human
sex with them. And here SF gets also closer to the main aspect
of morphing: that is, erotic fantasy.
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We
like women
with breasts that are too big, for they are projections of our
dreams. Girls like Chelsea Charms, that are somehow living morphs,
are aliens, in the sense we just explained: we like them
in that they are absolutely human, but they are something we
don't see every day. Here we find a tip for those who are skeptical
about the existence of aliens, too: I always say, if something
like Minka
does exist in the Solar System, you can bet we're not alone
in the universe. And I'm almost sure that some of our space
neighbors certainly have big, beautiful tits filled with some
strange cosmic substance....
Thanks
to St Stephan who, just before the editor's deadline, was
able to correct my English in about 12 Martian seconds.
(Actually it took me somewhat longer - closer
to 12 Uranian seconds, pausing only to urinate - but it was
fun. - StS)
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