[If you are not in the mood/ don't have time/ too lazy to read the full post, do yourself a favor and check out the video at the end]
Examining human sexuality and the way gender operates in our daily interactions with each other is a theme that can be worked into an interpretation of almost anything, so mostly I feel like I'm cheating when I write posts for this blog. But then, once in a while, something comes up that is just out there enough to raise some interesting questions and perhaps shed some light on sexuality, love, and relationships. According to Objectum Sexuals, you don’t even need another person for these things. How much of these notions are actually reciprocated and how much of them simply rely on our own needs and desires? Is one’s significant other nothing more than a foil for seeing oneself?
There is a documentary getting a fair amount of attention on the Internet called Strange Love: Married to the Eiffel Tower (which you can watch for free here) that follows three women who claim to love and carry on relationships, both emotional and sexual, with inanimate objects. The women call themselves Objectum Sexuals (OS people) and among their many lovers are: an archery bow, the Eiffel Tower, a small banister named Lou, a carnival ride called 1001 Nacht, a fence, the Golden Gate bridge, and a guillotine. At first, these people seem cuckoo bananas, but shortly it becomes evident that they are kind of enviably self-aware. According to the film, there are about 40 OS people in the world, all of whom are women (though a quick Google search will easily lead you to the story of a man named Oliver who's in love with a steam locomotive). At least one of the women profiled suffers from Asperger's Syndrome (apparently there is a relatively high percentage of OS people with Asperger’s) and another (the woman who married the Eiffel tower, called Erika La Tour Eiffel) suffered a sexual abuse-filled childhood. In both of these women's cases, they had little to no positive emotional contact with their fathers.
OS people refer to their draw towards objects as a sexual orientation, a distinction that may stir up fodder for the anti-gay right and infuriate homosexual rights activists faced with defending their lifestyles as opposed to an OS lifestyle. But OS people might closely identify with homosexuals, or with how homosexuals once felt; they are not understood by society at large, they are spurned from their religious groups, and in the case of one woman named Amy, they have a somewhat gender-ambiguous appearance. When OS people speak about the objects of their affection, which are often iconic architectural structures, they speak about them in a way that reflects their belief that the objects (most OS people are polyamorous) have souls and energy—they assign the objects names and associate them with a gender (so the objects are referred to as “he” or “she” as opposed to “it”).
It seems irreconcilable that there are people, in most cases fairly intelligent and articulate, who are attracted to the very logical geometry and structure of bridges and buildings, nay, are aroused by these qualities, but also believe that in these structures lie spirits capable of telepathy. To believe that, in fact, OS people's sexual orientation is just that, then you sort of have to concede that inanimate objects potentially have souls, energy, and conscious identities. If you aren’t willing to defy logic, then you probably aren’t capable of understanding OS people, no matter how socially accepting you are.
Still, for some reason, Objectum Sexuality feels a bit more acceptable than Zoophilia (the condition of being sexually aroused by and emotionally attached to animals), dispite the obvious similarities. Zoophiles make many of the same claims that OS people make about telepathic communication and cultivating relationships. Both groups have organized communities on the Internet where the like-minded can communicate with each other. Most zoophiles believe that the animal in question is a willing participant in the relationship. Perhaps OS seems less "wrong" than zoophilia because the acts of OS people can seem so solitary and thoughtful as opposed to carnal and beastly. But OS people get very affectionate with their inanimate lovers. When these lovers are things like the Eiffel Tower and the Empire State Building, that intimacy is thrust into the public eye. Not so solitary. And this affection brings attention to OS people in many forms and they are gawked at, pointed at and asked to move away from the object.
Most attention this documentary has been getting on the Internet has focused on the shock-and-awe factor this type of lifestyle has, as well as the comedy it provides. But from an anthropological perspective and maybe even a psychological one, the implications OS makes about human sexuality in general are telling and the questions that arise are of import. If OS people can feel like they are loved by inanimate objects, then can’t it be true that any love shared by two people is actually just a common manifestation of a very individualized experience. The love a wife has for her husband, for instance, is not the same as the love he has for her, yet the individual experiences obviate in reality as one shared experience. The relationship is symbiotic rather than mutual. It’s a very Relativist way of looking at things. At the very least, OS shows that humans are capable of feeling emotionally and sexually fulfilled without the presence of another person, in fact, in loathe of the presence of another person. Not much of the stuff I’ve seen paying attention to OS people and this documentary has really focused on these questions, and I can see why. OS people are far out, they operate on another level, and I think they like it that way. The documentary is full of clips and quotes that illustrate how special (for lack of a better word) these people are, and when taken out of context, are the stuff of Internet legend.
In spite of all the earnest analysis the OS lifestyle deserves, the following clip is too funny not to post. Here is Amy. Amy once got in trouble for making out with the Empire State Building. She is watching a video with her friend and fellow OS person, Erika La Tour Eiffel. The is a video is footage of Amy’s lover named 1001 Nacht, to whom Amy writes poetry. 1001 Nacht is a carnival ride. Most of the quotables from the documentary come from Amy, not the least of which are: “I love him for the narrowness of his jibs” and “When I start climaxing, I keep saying to him over and over, just as I'm startin' to go over the edge, I just tell him, 'I want your fluids. I want your fluids. I want your fluids.’” Eventually her latter wish comes true when she hangs out with 1001 Nacht during the day and rubs motor sludge all over her face. Here, Amy expresses her appreciation for the mid-nineties German techno-trash track that plays when 1001 Nacht is in motion. She compares it to Bach.
You can read a letter by Erika La Tour Eiffel explaining her marriage and lifestyle here.
