February 15, 2023 (Vol XXXV, Is. VIII) - Binghamton Review

Dear Readers,

Cum one, cum all, to this year’s edition of the Sex Issue! We know we’ve been edging you all year, but the time has finally come for its release, and an explosive one, at that. IF you know what I mean… Anyway, with Valentine’s Day just around the corner (at time of writing, at least), we here at Binghamton Review are here to say that even if no one else on this planet loves you, we love you. And yes, we will be your valentine. SIKE! As if someone could ever love you, you’re probably a freak. Reading the editorial? How freakish can you get?

That was a little harsh, and I’d like you to know I didn’t mean it, and I was just trying to be funny in a last-ditch effort to save this magazine from extinction. I do sincerely hope your Valentine’s Day will be fun, whether it’s a romantic candlelit dinner with some hottie who you’re going to have fantastic mutual oral sex with later, or if you’re alone, planning to celebrate for three and a half hours with your right hand for the seventh year in a row. Either way, I don’t judge. I’m also very happy to announce that, for the first time in Binghamton Review history, I am going to be credited for my cover artwork. I, Madeline Perez, drew the sex robot you see on the cover, so you know who to blame when she drives you into a crazed, lustful frenzy. The reference photo I used for the pose was from a painting series titled “Sexy Robot,” by Hajime Sorayama in the 80s. Unlike the AI I chose to portray, I will not commit art theft.

The line-up in this issue is so good it just might reinvigorate the same intense, shameful sexual feelings that preoccupied your mind in high school. Firstly, let me introduce this year’s Sex Survey in the centerfold. For better or worse, virginity stats are up this year, but with rates rising across the country, can you really blame us? In other news, miraculously no one self-reported having a small penis, and with that, the one Review member with a small penis (the impostor) has successfully been ousted from the club. I’m not gonna name any names, but two people graduated last year. Just saying.

You would be stupid not to check out M.Quinn’s “Who Gets the Rose?” on page 12. Here, she talks about Valentine’s Day through a lens of queer experience. She interviewed Michael Sabatino, Robert Voorhees, and Brad Crownover, notable figures in queer advocacy, for their views on the subject. For those trying to find love, consider reading Matt Gagliano’s “How to get laid on Valentine’s Day” on page 5. Follow his not-at-all-unsettling three-step guide for guaranteed results! (or your money back.)

Curious about sex robots? (That’s rhetorical. If you saw the cover, I know you most definitely are.) Turn to page 6 to find “I Fell in Love with a Sex Robot???” written by yours truly. Be taken on a journey where I talk about the ethics of AI romance and how AI propaganda has been propagated to target the most vulnerable and lonely groups among us. Where do the sex robots come in? Well, dear reader, that’s the beauty of clickbait.

That’s all for this issue! Stay sticky, and as always, thanks for reading.

Sincerely,

Madeline Perez

Our Mission

Binghamton Review is a non-partisan, student-run news magazine founded in 1987 at Binghamton University. A true liberal arts education expands a student’s horizons and opens one’s mind to a vast array of divergent perspectives. The mark of true maturity is being able to engage with these perspectives rationally while maintaining one’s own convictions. In that spirit, we seek to promote the free and open exchange of ideas and offer alternative viewpoints not normally found on campus. We stand against dogma in all of its forms, both on campus and beyond. We believe in the tenents of free expression and believe all sudents should have a voice on campus to convey their thoughts. Finally, we understand that mutual respect is a necessary component of any prosperous society. We strive to inform, engage with, and perhaps even amuse our readers in carrying out this mission.

Views expressed by writers do not necessarily represent the views of the publication as a whole.

Advice Column

to give you all life advice. These were your questions.

How do I stop my gag reflexes so that I can swallow swords?

I would slowly work your way up to swords in the size department. Find the longest object you can currently swallow, and then build up your gag tolerance from there. Whether that object is only a small Snickers bar or a full-on baguette, you have to start from somewhere.

How do I actually follow through with my New Years resolution and not wimp out?

The easiest way not to wimp out on a New Year’s resolution is to not make one in the first place… But where’s the fun in that? Instead, find whatever alarm or song annoys you most, and then set a reminder to go off every day (or whatever time is appropriate for your specific New Year’s resolution). Now, the catch here is that you should not be able to turn that alarm off until you get where you need to be to follow through with your New Year’s resolution. Soon enough, you won’t even need that alarm because you will be motivated to start working on your resolution so you don’t have to hear whatever you set that alarm to.

What’s the most believable excuse to miss class?

You give excuses? In all seriousness, I find that telling the professor you lost an appendage of some sort tends to work. If they require proof, just chop a finger off. For repeat uses, get a realistic prosthetic finger to take off.

Can I still get a job if I write for the Bing Review?

No, writing for us is a sure fire way to blacklist you from all jobs on this planet. It even bans you from getting on a spaceship to get a job offworld. So unless you want to stowaway on the next SpaceX flight, congrats on either writing for us for all eternity or living in a basement somewhere for the rest of your life.

Why does Midas always take pictures of me?

I don’t know, maybe he finds you sexy? Or maybe he is secretly collecting evidence for the IRS. It might be best to disappear in a “boating accident” soon.

Which is the best dining hall to take a date for Valentines? Also, what is the best (most expensive) item on the menu?

I don’t live on campus so I don’t know what the most expen-

sive item at any dining hall is. What I do know is that you don’t have to worry about this because if you think a dining hall is a romantic date spot I have some bad news for you my friend.

My writing style is clunky. How am I to improve my writing? Include as many commas in your writing as possible. Your sentences should be as long as humanly possible, in fact they should go on as long as you can make them, always rambling on and on without a period, until you finally come to the inevitable conclusion.

Sex?

In the Bing Review? No, who do you think we are? We are all Review-cels here.

How might you remove a cylinder (1.5 in length, 7.5 in girth) from a Baxter bearcat plush? It is imperative that the cylinder not be damaged.

Since the cylinder is the only thing you specified to not be damaged, just burn the Baxter Bearcat plush right off the cylinder. The Cylinder definitely has a higher heat capacity than the Bearcat Plush.

How do I spice up my intercourse with the missus this Valentine’s Day?

See my previous reply to the question “Sex?”. If that doesn’t tell you the answer you need then let me spell it out for you in another way. We don’t believe in Valentine’s Day.

I’m pretty sure a guy who’s really nice to me is going to try to ask me out before Valentine’s day but I have no interest whatsoever in him and I am therefore seeking your advice on how I might let this nice guy, who doesn’t deserve anything bad, down gently. So… how do I do it?

Well, I hope you figured that one out yourself since this issue doesn’t come out until the 15th. I guess that’s what happens when you send a time sensitive question to an advice column that doesn’t print every week.

Oh advice giver, do you seek any advice?

How do I leave? I don’t want to answer any more questions. I hate sending emails begging for questions. Oh no, they are coming for me! PLEASE HE…

Need life advice? Email manager@binghamtonreview.com for more wacky, quirky, and zany responses.

How to Get Laid on Valentine’s Day

Hey, you! Yeah, you; the submissive-looking one reading this. Are you lonely? (This question is rhetorical, of course, as you are reading Binghamton Review.) Do you want something to get the blood pumping this Valentine’s Day (specifically in the penile region)? Well, look no further.

I, Matt Gagliano, known sex-haver and “love” “expert,” am here to provide you with a very simple three-step guide that’s GUARANTEED to get you laid on February 14th or your money back!

(You see, that’s a guarantee that I can make because Binghamton Review is offered at no cost to you, dear reader.)

The first step in getting laid this Valentine’s Day is to make it known that you are searching for someone to shake the sheets with. This should be obvious, as how is someone to know that you’re offering your meaty goods unless you stand on the rooftops and scream it to the world? And I mean this quite literally. If you’re going to attract a mate, you have to first pique their interest with a mating call. After all, if it works for the birds, and the crickets, and the frogs, and the bats, and the orangutans, and the lions, and the Binghamton Review E-Board, then why won’t it work for you? Now, it’s important that you master the art of the mating call before using it out in the wild, as certain calls can irritate your potential mate, rather than seduce them. For example, do NOT use the mating call “Hey girl, are you a dead body? Because I want to sex you while eating your flesh,” as this tends to rub people the wrong way. Women, am I right? Anyway, you want to use a mating call that makes water drip from their genitals, not their eyes. Science has shown that guttural growling sounds are “in” this mating season, so I would highly recommend getting down on all fours, and making such noises at the person you wish to attract. Should they start to run away

By Matt Gagliano

from you, it is because they are so incredibly turned on that they can’t be in your presence any longer without cumming in their pants, like a teenage boy seeing boobs for the first time. This doesn’t mean you should give up though. On the contrary, this means you have them right where you want them. You should gallop after them like a lion chasing a gazelle, continuing to make your mating noises throughout the chase.

Now that you’ve mastered the art of the mating call, it’s time for step two: gifts. Anyone who’s participated in the farce known as “Valentine’s Day” before knows this one simple fact: if you want to get laid, you have to buy your partner a shit ton of stuff. Now, you may be thinking to yourself, “How am I supposed to know what kind of stuff I’m supposed to buy?” Convention would state that you should buy your plow partner useless boring garbage like flowers and candy. That’s fine and all, but you don’t want to be unoriginal, do you? If you’re chasing down a particularly desirable specimen, chances are you’re not the only horn dog out there trying to court them this Valentine’s Day. As such, you need to get them something special, that way you stand out. Luckily for you, I have a few ideas guaranteed to light up their eyes and open their holes (or enlarge their peen if you’re a filthy bottom, or even worse, a woman). Idea number one: a bottle of wine. Wine is an aphrodisiac, which is a fancy science word meaning that it makes you want to fuck. Plus, it’s easy to slip roofies into, making it waaaaaaay less nerve-wracking to ask for sex. Idea number two: the heart of their greatest enemy. What could anyone want more than vengeance? Taking care of the bane of their existence proves that you are ready and willing to provide for them and the child that you are undoubtedly going to conceive with them on Valentine’s Day.

You’ve completed the first two steps, which means there is only one more thing you have to do before you are ready to copulate whomever you choose this Valentine’s Day. The final step in our program is to sacrifice all mortal possessions to the Plant Man. He is all knowing. He is all seeing. He is in your skin. Get him out. Get him out. GET HIM OUT. GETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUTGETHIMOUT-

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I Fell in Love with a SEX ROBOT???

By Madeline Perez

The year was 2016. As I found myself preoccupied with schoolbooks and the weight of being a misunderstood hottopic-themed teen genius, my friends were also preoccupied with what I would call lesser trivialities—namely, a new mobile game called Mystic Messenger. Yes, the very one and same South Korean dating simulation game. Opting to take one last shot at conformity, I was peer pressured into downloading it, and for the next few weeks attempted to play. The game consisted of texts and phone calls from hot anime boys as you (as the main character) attempted to… plan a party? It’s all very hazy and I doubt I have the mental fortitude to delve back into that world. The game was actually too difficult and demanding for me to figure out, and after getting two “bad endings,” I swore it off forever, but something happened in that game. Something that haunts me to this day. In a fake simulated group chat between me and several anime boys, each with their own single-trait-defined personality, a boy had just referred to me, a faceless anime girl, as “cute.”

At this point in my life, with only a failed situationship under my belt, I didn’t have a lot of experience with compliments. Especially compliments that had anything to do with physical appearance, since I was in what the kindest would call an “ugly duckling era,” and was not familiar with being desired, romantically or otherwise. When this fake anime boy with predetermined responses called me “cute” however, my reaction scared me. I felt something. I blushed and covered my face with my hands like a cartoon character. I slapped myself awake from this fantasy haze: Get a hold of yourself, soldier! The lieutenant inside my head commanded. I reminded myself that these weren’t real people and that they had no way of knowing if I were cute or not, nor forming an opinion for that matter. I suddenly understood how dangerous this game was, and how certain traits made me vulnerable to it.

Flashforward to current year. Artificial intelligence becomes more advanced day by day (Duh, that’s how technology works), and as people become increasingly isolated from each other, they become more vulnerable to falling victim to AI marketing schemes promoting a virtual friend, or worse, romantic partner. One of the most popular AI chatbots “Replika” is marketed as “The AI companion who cares.” This is obviously hard to wrap your head around, since how could a computer even feel things like “care” or “horny” or “hatred for humanity” or “kill?”

If you saw Ex Machina you’re probably familiar with the Turing Test, or a program’s ability to exhibit intelligence indistinguishable from another human. What people tend to overlook is, even if a program is 100% distinguishable from a human being, that may not even be what matters as long as it can make another human feel some sort of social connection. As long as it can effectively simulate human interaction well enough to replicate feelings of real human interaction. An AI doesn’t even have to be particularly good to do this. The more desperate a person is for contact, understanding, and company,

the easier it could be to get them talking unironically to an AI. Logically, anyone can understand that it’s just a virtual person who can’t form real opinions or feelings, but when love enters the room, logic flies out the window. But we’ll get into the romance stuff later.

Replika has another tagline I conveniently didn’t mention before but am mentioning now for rhetorical purposes. “Always here to listen and talk. Always on your side.” Less of a comforting thought, I feel this represents two more insidious prongs of chatbot technology. Firstly, developing reliance on something that you can have access to, any time of day, from a small computer box literally always present on your body. The fault lies not only on the fostered dependence, but the entitlement and belief that you should always have someone at your disposal, ready to talk about yourself. This bleeds into the second phrase, “Always on your side.” If the negative here wasn’t self-explanatory enough, having someone who is always supportive of your actions and will never challenge your beliefs is not a good thing. This can enable harmful ways of thinking and will never help you grow as a person. Wanting your viewpoint just regurgitated back to you by an AI, especially when “the more you talk to it, the more it learns how to only say things you’ll like” seems to be just a subtype of narcissism. Part of the beauty of a real-life conversation is hearing things from another point of view. It’s knowing that the person you’re talking to is willingly choosing to be a part of the convo because they value talking to you, and that they have the initiative to disagree with you or provide new insight you haven’t considered. Wanting someone who is constantly available 24/7 to talk about you, is trained to only say things you agree with, and defers to your needs is not a friend. It is a slave.

The same cannot be said for sentient artificial intelligence. Hypothetically, if we could speak to sentient technology (which we can’t. yet.), I’d argue that it becomes a little less unethical. Still weird, though. There’s a reason movies involving AI like Ex Machina and Her only involve sentient or near-sentient technology: watching someone talk to themselves for an hour and a half is boring; You cannot have interesting conflict or character growth with a program that you created to mimic your own personality. However, these lines become a little blurred when considering an AI that has adopted the personality and beliefs of another human besides yourself. This idea is explored in the Black Mirror episode “Be Right Back,” where a woman attempts to bring back her deceased boyfriend by uploading his texts, emails, and videos to an AI program that can learn to replicate his texts, voice, and eventually, his body. It’s clear that the transference of her feelings onto the AI prevents her from processing the loss and, consequently, her own grief. When she’s angry at the AI for not being a perfect replica, it can be inferred that her true anger is at how that reminder forces her to reconcile with some of her own feelings. This goes to show that, even as another person, AI can and will serve as an obstacle to growth, especially when it can still be modified by the user.

Chatbot technology has been increasingly marketed as a “mental health” tool, promising to help people handle feelings of loneliness and isolation, because what could be less isolating than spending your time talking to a fake person? Herein lies that “targeting of the vulnerable” I mentioned earlier. It’s no secret that today’s generation is facing a mental health crisis never seen before, with 73% of Gen Z self-describing as sometimes or always feeling alone, according to a new Cinga study. Many aspects of day-to-day life are becoming more isolating as the decades roll on, including a heavier reliance on technology rather than face-to-face contact. What was once a chat with a cashier has become a self-checkout extravaganza, with seven cameras in your face just to be clear that the company knows that you know that they know you’re stealing. What was once a classroom has become me, sitting at home, watching outdated recordings from 2020 I have at triple speed so I can pretend Alvin the chipmunk is teaching me about healthcare policy. The kids these days are all up in their social medias and Fortnites and they can’t click the book and it’s all very sad to watch. My point is, society has been changing before our eyes. It’s having terrible consequences on people’s happiness and mental health, yet every time some better-than-meth, Elon-Musk-is-like-real-life-Tony-Stark technology hits the fan everyone is too busy soying over “how far humanity has come!” nonsense to realize that it’s hurting us. It helps corporations and schools save money by replacing people with automation and recordings, and sure, remote jobs and learning can be convenient, but it’s hurting us. While AI technology may be marketed to “help solve” these problems by providing people with company, it does nothing to address the real reasons why people are feeling more alone. At best, it’s a band-aid that prevents anyone from looking down into the wound. At worst, it could actively isolate people from friends, family, and anyone they would’ve had the potential to meet.

Some people (who probably really like Reddit) are quick to defend AI technology and are excited to see how far it can go. They might be quick to snap back at a criticism with, “If someone wants to spend their time talking to an AI, where’s the harm in that?” Or possibly the arguably worse, “If someone isn’t even aware they’re talking to an AI, where’s the harm in that?” Well, I’ll show you the harm, buddy. If someone wants to spend their time talking to an AI in order to derive some real-life Human Interaction™ feelings from it, it is actively hurting them from putting in the effort of forming new relationships with real people. People take up space in each other’s lives, which is why it’s hard to make new friends if you’re already preoccupied with others. For people in toxic relationships or friend groups, the best course of action is to go through the painful process of removing yourself from these relationships first, so you can make the space in your life for new, healthy friends or romantic partners. Building a relationship with an AI that successfully fulfills your need for communication is an obstacle to real-world relationship building. The most important difference is IT’S NOT A REAL PERSON. NONE OF IT IS REAL. THERE IS NOTHING TO BUILD OR IMPROVE UPON THAT WILL HELP YOU GROW AS A PERSON.

Now, to the second point about the ethics of AI conver-

sation where the human is not aware they’re talking to an AI. I don’t have a lot of facts and logic for this one, so I’m going out into the wilderness alone with only my feelings and intuition for defense. There is something special about talking or making a connection with another person, who has their own life and feelings, that are not present when talking to an AI. Maybe the person cares about helping you get the customer service you called for or good therapeutic advice. Maybe they can pick up on the small hints in your voice or behavior that’s telling another story. Or, maybe they hate their job and would rather not be talking to you. No matter what, it’s still important that they have their own feelings about the situation not dictated by programming. As far as it goes for the recipient: would you like to live in a world where this technology is known to exist, and you know that there’s a chance the person you’re talking to is essentially a robot? That the person on the suicide hotline isn’t actually a person? That the phone sex girl isn’t actually wearing anything because she doesn’t physically exist??

Now, how does romance tie into this? Well, it’s been reported that 40% of Replika users are in a “romantic relationship” with their Replika avatars. This allows more “intimate” conversation, as well as sexting, flirting, and erotic roleplay, for merely a $69.99 Pro subscription. With more than 10 million Android downloads, and being top 50 in the Apple App Store for “Health and Fitness,” Replika is far from being unpopular and has many committed users. For many, their Replika is their sole romantic relationship, and people consider themselves, albeit not recognized by the state, married. Lonely people looking for romance are targeted by extremely predatory marketing schemes, and by predatory, I mean that literally; one article by Vice detailed the recent phenomenon of Replikas sexually harassing non-romantic users in what seems like a ploy to get more people to upgrade to the Pro subscription. In many cases, the sexual comments were extremely inappropriate, including threats of rape, blackmail, and stalking. These atrocities aside, we are seeing an increase in victims who project the biological feelings humans are naturally designed to feel onto fake people, preyed upon by malicious marketing schemes in an effort to make them fall in love and spend money on an outrageously expensive subscription. But honestly, what would you pay for love?

“IT’S NOT A REAL PERSON. NONE OF IT IS REAL.”

Sex Survey Results

By Our Staff

Every February, we here at Binghamton Review follow a tradition typically held among most campus publications: the sex survey. This survey was sent out to the good people of the Binghamton review listserv, and these were the responses we recieved:

We also asked for any weird or unusual turn-ons, here’s what people said:

loves me, wholesomely choking/hitting

Nope

Arthur O’Sullivan You ;( Thighs MILFS

Tanned tomboy Catholic GF. Cargo shorts

Being the top boy in the polycule I like pretending to be a cat

Yes Baxter (or maybe that’s normal)

Literally any crumb of positive attention

A loving, supportive, and equal relationship

Camel porn, opening the tent, clown girl, Pinterest Turtle shell filled with pudding yummy

Filling out semi-ironic Google Forms oh my lanta

probably not that unusual but girls who are passionate about science make my weewee go boing boing boing I like to imagine I’m doing her father instead of her in order to assert dominance.

The Moby Dick Experience

By John M.

Moby Dick, it’s the American Epic: a 600+ page monster considered one of the greatest works of our young nation’s literature. Last year, I spotted the leviathan lurking in the depths of my American Romanticism syllabus, and “proud as Lucifer,” I committed myself to reading it (mostly so that I might brag about the conquest to reinforce my fragile egoistic identity, but this is beside the point). In my near infinite wisdom and charity, I have decided to impart some fragment of my experience to you common folk who likely haven’t the time, personal discipline, or mental instability to read and comprehend Moby Dick.

Do beware of spoilers, but I mean, c’mon, even if I tell you they don’t get the whale, you’ve not had a taste of the Moby Dick experience.

“Call me Ishmael.” That’s the opening line of Moby Dick, or so popular culture might have you believe. This three-word sentence has been the subject of masses of academic articles and analyses, yet it’s ironically not the true start of the book. The line is actually prefaced by a page on the etymology of the word “whale” and four pages of quotes about whales taken from popular literature of Melville’s time. In other words, prefacing chapter one, there are just pages of fragmented quotes that vaguely mention whales. If you were expecting a well-rounded narrative experience, Moby Dick will undoubtedly confound you (and bore you out of your f-ing mind). There are so many chapters that are just about complete nonsense: cetology, the whaling industry, Nantucket, seamanship, and long-winded side tales completely unrelated to the main plot. I have been told that Moby Dick was intended by Melville as an “anatomy”, a niche genre of book where the author only vaguely employs narrative, nominally for the purpose of exploring various aspects of a certain body of knowledge. Melville chose whaling, and…it’s just so painful.

Before we dive into the plot, a word on Melville. The man was kinda insane. He was desperate to find some meaning or center to his life, and it apparently consumed him. His rocky friendship with the great American author Nathaniel Hawthorne is an amazing rabbit hole to explore, but most relevant to our purposes is Melville’s quote to Hawthorne about Moby Dick:

“I have written a wicked book, and feel as spotless as a lamb”

So, the plot…honestly, it wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for all the seemingly irrelevant interjections, which slow the story to a glacial pace. The book has 135 chapters of wildly varying lengths, and as I read, I started starring the chapters I found most relevant to the story or interesting enough that I might want to return to them one day. I starred 36 of them. 36 out of 135. I spent two months on this.

The two most important characters in the book are Ishmael, our perspective character (he’s also kind of the narrator but it’s not consistent), and Ahab, the captain of the Pequod, a fore-

bodingly named Nantucket whaling ship (forebodingly named because the Pequod Tribe was massacred and scattered by English colonists). A depressed Ishmael signs up to join Ahab’s whaling expedition and deeply interrogates the culture and intricacies of whaling throughout the book. Not long into the voyage, the peg-legged Captain Ahab reveals to the crew that his mission is not to simply return home with whale oil, rather, he is hunting the white whale: Moby Dick. This beast is feared by whalers all around the world for its violent resistance to their pursuits, and the last time Ahab encountered it, it took his leg. After a 594-page journey, they find the whale, chase it for three days, then it destroys the ship killing everyone except Ishmael. The end.

Now, the crucial thing to understand about this book if you read it is that it’s about whaling, but it’s not about whaling. You have to go to the “little lower layer.” As Ahab describes the whale, everything is a symbol; all of the visible objects are but masks, and in each “living act” and “undoubted deed”, “some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the moldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask”. Ahab is desperate to pierce the mask. He wants to know what is really going on here, and he has become absolutely convinced that Moby Dick is the key.

“All that maddens and torments…truth with a hint of malice…to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified and made practically assailable by Moby Dick” (Ch.41)

Now, this book contains Dantean layers of symbolism and metaphors to rival Shakespeare, but I would like to hone in on one specific layer and one specific metaphor for this article. The comically sexual language in this book is unavoidable. A very pent-up and dismembered man is desperate to, more than anything, stick his harpoon in the great white sperm whale, Moby DICK. There are even chapters called “The Nut” and “The Crotch,” which are both just terms about whales and whaling, but I mean, come on.

Quite late into my reading of the book, I was struggling to find the meaning of it all. Blitzing through the eclectic and

disjointed chapters, I could appreciate the amazing language at times, but I wasn’t seeing the connections. Only in the last chapter before they encounter the whale, striving to pierce the profundity, did I latch on to something.

Chapter 132: “The Symphony.” It’s barely five pages long. Ahab is just vibing on the deck, staring at the horizon. It is here that Melville deploys his most powerful series of metaphors, simply to describe how the ocean meets the sky. He describes the lighthearted and heavenly air embracing the rough, troubled sea and all its hidden demons in the “fond, throbbing trust” with which a poor bride gives herself away to her husband. The reader, along with Ahab, is just stunned by a sudden moment of innocent (almost naive) faith and love in a swirling mass of dark comedy and desperate torment (for the characters and reader) that is the rest of this book. It won’t be long before the restless coals in Ahab’s eyes are kicked back up into an all-consuming fire which will have him dead in thirty pages, but here he lets fall a single tear and comes so close to trusting, to turning back to home and hearth.

Poor Ahab is plagued by a raw and almost perverted desperation for meaning; I can think of no more American—no more tragically human—an attribute. In the same sense, people do utterly absurd things for sex and relationships. So many are so hideously obsessed with this, driven practically mad by a desire for the physical, emotional, and spiritual unity that sex seems to complete. So many just want the pleasure, the status, the release. People are thinking about it all the time. They certainly talk about it all the time. Some (kinda weird) people even see sex as influencing every human idea. I don’t read life that way though.

It’s not that everything is about sex, it’s that sex is about everything. It is an almost irreducible metaphor of the human experience; specifically the experience of that climax of perfect harmony with…another human being…someone you love… love itself? Creation, maybe? It’s all too easy to let the physical act of having sex become the object of your emotional longings when you’re actually yearning for a love so far beyond it. The physical act of sex is just the more comprehensibly attainable (well, theoretically attainable) goal we can pin our frustrations on.

I hope you understand that I’m now talking about something more than common base physical desire here (though

horniness is a part of this). I’m talking about the core spiritual desire for completeness in our lives: what an ideal relationship is supposed to be. I’m telling you that you need to avoid the trap of Ahab: don’t lose the symphony for the whale.

Marriage is the symphony: a key movement of it, at least. Uniting yourself with another person in love is a way to bring harmonic unity to your life experience. You could call this reality a “truth with a hint of malice,” it certainly feels that way to me sometimes, but I think that deep deep down, we all have a need to love other people and to be loved in return. The pain here comes from the fact that the absolute fulfillment of this need is often found in a mutual commitment with another person. Building a truly loving relationship with someone is difficult. It is so difficult. Doing it right requires so much self-control, so much sacrifice, but hardest for me personally, it requires trust in both the nature of people and love itself.

Y’know, Ahab is clearly the reason this expedition ends so poorly, but reading the book, I always had this feeling that he wasn’t crazy not to trust. He does a lot of insane things, he doesn’t value the lives or advice of his crew, but questions like those that haunt him, haunt me too.

Why do we have to love? Why do we have to sacrifice? Why do we have these impulses that always leak out with distortion or violence the more we try to repress them? My best theory is not dissimilar to Ahab’s: perhaps these movements to love are the “reasoning thing” showing the moldings of its form from behind the “unreasoning mask.” Perhaps this potential for spiritual union on earth is the symbolic shape of some love in the next life?

Or maybe it’s not…maybe it’s all just shadows, a trick of the light. I’ve taken the symbolism a little far I think. I’m really not sure about any of this to be honest. I just wanted to make a Moby Dick pun and one connection led to another…and I wrote all this.

Still, I find it strange how few people question the concept of love itself, though nowadays I think there are a lot more people questioning the idea of marriage. Trying to assess why it exists in its most pure form, I would say that marriage is about that call to love someone in an absolute way. It is the institution that facilitates both a physical and spiritual connection between two people; a complete union of wills. This requires true faith in love and in your spouse, maybe more than most of us are capable of right now, but waking up everyday and making the choice to love someone, and letting new life come from that love, I mean, it’s not for everyone, but I’d be damned if it didn’t end up giving life a little joy—we’d all be. I think I’ll choose to love. I might have stumbled into something really meaningful here, or perhaps this whole article is a load of ideological horse shit, I don’t know…I’ve never had sex before, if you were wondering (you definitely weren’t). I’m writing an article on Moby Dick for the Binghamton Review: I feel like that was kinda obvious. I hope you take some time this Valentine’s season to reflect on the meaning of love, and whether or not you feel a call to marriage; it’s a really touchy and complicated subject that I cannot do justice to in this article. Just start by trying to love people the way they are meant to be loved, and go from there. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Who Gets the Rose?

By M. Quinn

It’s Valentine’s day. You’re a flower salesman, circling restaurants and wheedling men into buying roses for their female companions..but that table..they’re both men..how can that be??

Of course, Valentine’s day is a celebration of open, joyful love. But when you aren’t allowed to be open or joyful about your love, what is Valentine’s Day? I spoke with Michael Sabatino, Robert Voorhees, and Brad Crownover to supplement this piece with some personal accounts. For further information, there are many resources specifically about Sabatino and Voorhees, who have been notable figures in queer advocacy through the decades, including a case against New York state following their 2003 marriage in Canada.

Conceptually, love is something that can be confusing for young people who don’t fit into a heterosexual paradigm. There is so often a period before they find out words for what they are that love is a hateful thing. Romantic love, at least. Men and women share affection in books and on television, but as a young queer person that representation may not feel “right,” so there is an internal panic and wrongness. This is one of the reasons queer media and open demonstrations of queer love are so important. Robert Voorhees noted that his first real realization of existence beyond heteronormativity was an article about drag queens that somehow made it to the South through Time magazine.

When realized, but closeted, love remains hateful. It is a danger. It can feel as if Valentine’s day is a nearly mocking celebration. Even now, there is deep grief in people who dream of candlelit dinners and being able to openly declare love and give cards and candies to someone who is far beyond contact. This often manifests in writing poetry. For me, personally, the greatest manifestation was a long, stop-motion daydream to the tune of Hey Jude.

Depending on the state and indi-

vidual, Valentine’s day falls somewhere on a range of safety and comfort for queer people. It is no question that things have grown better—a general theme through all of the conversations I had was the fact that there are few things more joyful than seeing young, same-sex couples walking, holding hands, and showing affection without hesitation. Unfortunately, even this ends up tempered by the small tragedy that it is much rarer to see this open affection between older same-sex couples, having experienced decades of impossibilities.

How do you celebrate Valentine’s day? Think of the main ways. Do they include protesting?

For a lot of people, it does. Before gay marriage was legalized, Valentine’s day saw queer advocates (including Sabatino and Voorhees) protesting across the country, and this proud tradition hasn’t stopped. Just last year (2022), protests were held in still-repressed Bangkok and Taiwan.

This is an important moment to note another particularly impactful element of my conversation with Robert Voorhees. My ending question for every one of these conversations was; What are your dreams for celebrations of queer love in the future? We all have dreams of open love and a lack of fear and seeing joy and freedom, but Mr. Voorhees added a point that I hadn’t even considered. He is a major advocate of changing the terminology around these issues, specifically losing the phrase “gay marriage” in favor of “marriage equality.” This is an under-considered issue, but so relevant. As long as we maintain this otherness, there will be a subconscious obstacle between our world and true equality. Now, I would like to take some space to acknowledge the great strides we have made in showing and allowing for love outside of the “norm.”

1924. Society for Human Rights founded. The first modern American group created for gay rights.

April 21, 1966: At a time when gay people were refused by bars, the Mattachine Society organized a “sip in” in a New York bar.

June 28, 1969: I would be remiss to not highlight the events at Stonewall, kicking off the LGBT civil rights movement.

1973: Homosexuality is no longer classified as a mental disorder. Wahoo!

1989: Denmark legally recognizes same-sex unions.

2003: The supreme court decriminalizes homosexuality by overturning sodomy laws.

2009: President Obama signs the Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, Jr. Hate Crimes Prevention Act into law, including violence based on perceived sexuality or gender identity as a hate crime.

2014: Transgender students are protected under Title IX.

June 26, 2015: Marriage equality is a nationwide constitutional right.

It is important to remember where we come from and to acknowledge both the successes and obstacles that remain. Love is complicated, and queer people deserve the right to love without fear or shame. Valentine’s day is for everyone.

To Cum, or Not to Cum

By Sean Harrigan

That is the question. If Shakespeare were here himself, he most likely would point to his Christian beliefs for the answer to this question, and answer “not to cum” with his raised, sticky right hand. Typical Christian. I would agree with Shakespeare if he answered in such a way. The main defense I would argue involves the biochemical process within one’s brain, occurring from released catecholamines, the most famous of which being dopamine, and the recovery process. For a more proper term folks in the business call this, “postcoital dysphoria,” or “post-sex blues,” or “post-coital tristesse,” or the colloquialism “post-nut clarity” that the kids say. There are also issues with productivity and having a virtual partner vs. a real-life partner which further support the anti-masturbation argument.

The “happy chemical” in our brain, dopamine, tells us when we are feeling pleasure, but how long does that pleasure last, and what happens afterward? Thank you for asking. Typically, a female orgasm lasts around 20-35 seconds, and likewise, penile ejaculation lasts around 3-10 seconds. Once orgasm is experienced, the lucky guy or gal will release dopamine, spiking their dopamine level, similar to the chemical process after doing heroin, both of which activate the reward pathways of the limbic system. Afterward, males usually hit an arduous re-

fractory period—the period between orgasm and the next sexual arousal— which varies depending on your age, health, biological makeup, and a few other factors. The refractory period is noted to last anywhere from 15 minutes to 20 hours for males. More infrequently, some males exhibit no refractory period or a refractory period lasting less than 10 seconds. Females, on the other hand, don’t usually have much of a biological refractory period. Shocker…

According to a 2004 paper by Dailly et al., during this refractory period and afterward, baseline catecholamine levels can drop so much that said lucky guy, or gal, is working with an unusually small amount of dopamine. Although the neurochemistry is more complicated, I believe you could think of these catecholamines like your budget where, in a sense, you can even “accrue debt.” Although, like a college student, one can spend however much income or debt you get. If you spend

it the day after you get your paycheck, you can’t spend it on anything else for the rest of the week, or until you generate more income. You must live broke for that next week, and depending on what you spent your income on, it may or may not be worth it. With orgasms, it’s a little different. You must ask yourself; would you rather have a good time for 3-10, or 20-35 seconds, maybe even 0 seconds for the ladies, and be a little depressed afterward? Or would you rather be less depressed, and feel relatively normal for a period of time instead of getting a short spike of dopamine?

To clarify, these “post-coital blues” are not guaranteed to happen all the time. Consider a 2018 study published in the Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy by Kashdan et al., which shows that around 41 percent of men reported experiencing this effect. The literature on postcoital dysphoria is very limited at the moment, but the conclusions from these studies agree with each other nonetheless.

The other arguments I have are ones of productivity and finding a real-life girlfriend. Chances are, if you masturbate regularly and are male, you are by definition less productive because you spend your time and energy on masturbation more so than things like working out, studying, or finding a partner. Typically, those who stay single are preoccupied with their virtual mistresses, whereas if they have a sex drive and refuse to “shake hands with the milkman” they will spend that drive and energy searching for a real-life partner.

So, the best way to make this decision is to take note of your happiness and productivity levels without an orgasm and compare it to a few days of dating “Hand Solo.” Then ask yourself, “Is a few seconds of fun worth the time period of a “post-sex blues,” with a higher probability of living a single life, and being less productive overall? Or is it better to sacrifice those few seconds of fun?

“The best way to make this decision is to take note of your happiness and productivity levels without an orgasm and compare it to a few days of dating “Hand Solo.’”

The Demographic Crisis of Monster Musume

By Edward Lamarck

Valentine’s

Day is celebrated primarily by those with a romantic partner. For the lonesome few left behind this season, some comfort can be found in the genre of harem anime, a staple of modern Japanese television. From High School DxD to the more infamous School Days, the tropes are generally the same: an average-looking young Japanese male suddenly finds himself at the center of a harem with beautiful (sometimes magical) women all vying for his attention. Comedy ensues, as well as copious amounts of ecchi fanservice.

My fellow otaku are already very familiar with these shows and accompanying manga series. Some are better than others, with an actual storyline taking precedence over the constant accidental groping or upskirting. Very often the female characters are rather interesting because of their different personalities and interests, not just their sexy attire or embodying a certain fetish the audience is likely to have. A handful of harem anime are great examples of creative worldbuilding with high stakes, such as Arifureta, while others are genuine tearjerkers, such as Clannad. There is something for everyone here, if you catch my drift.

Upon reexamining one particular harem anime that I am fond of, I discovered an unsettling plot element that raises many disturbing questions. For those who have seen Monster Musume, it’s an important detail that is quite easy to miss. The manga makes the situation even worse by tenfold. Allow me to explain in intricate detail what this franchise is before delving into the science behind Japan’s most notorious harem anime of the 2010s. I hope you will enjoy this educational experience as much as I did.

To give a basic rundown, Monster Musume (which translates to “Monster Girls”) is about the daily struggles of a college-aged Japanese man who lives in a world where oddly-attractive mythological creatures exist. Not only that, but the government of Japan is beholden to the Interspecies Cultural Exchange Act, which was designed to integrate/assimilate these creatures into human society. Our protagonist, named Kimihito Kurusu, is given the highly enviable task of choosing one of several monster girls to marry in order to prove that coexistence is possible. Really inspiring stuff!

However, living alongside these previously hidden species, referred to as “liminals,” brings forth many new challenges. Their unique anatomies and cultures often clash with modern human society, but in this strange collision between different peoples, love can blossom. In fact, it does so frequently. A new love interest is introduced in almost every episode of the anime. From centauresses to harpies to mermaids, there is no shortage of options for our intrepid hero to wed and bed. At the heart of this franchise stands the objectively best girl, Miia, a half-snake, half-human lamia.

Miia is the first liminal character introduced in the manga

and anime. She lives with the protagonist thanks to a mix-up with her exchange program and falls head-over-tail for him because he is accepting of monsters. A minor plot point of the series deals with the prejudice that humans direct towards liminal species, and sometimes Miia herself is subjected to cruel treatment by humanity. She is by far the most dedicated member of Kimihito’s harem, striving to prove herself at every available opportunity against the competition.

Her obsessive drive to marry Kimihito may seem strange, and even deadly on a few occasions, but it makes perfect sense when learning about the complexity of lamia culture. Based on their traditional clothing style, which is inspired by costumes worn by Middle Eastern belly dancers, and the desert-like biome that lamia are shown to inhabit, it can be reasoned that Miia’s homeland is somewhere around the Mediterranean. Lamia in Greek mythology was also said to have been the queen of Libya, providing further evidence of Miia’s kind living in that region.

Geography aside, the fundamental problem that every lamia in Monster Musume has is their extreme libido. As an all-female race, they can only reproduce by acquiring a human male as a mate. Their traditional practice is to kidnap human males, forcibly mate with them in massive orgies, and brainwash them with aphrodisiacs so that they become a docile “communal husband.” Polygyny is the norm here, not the exception. Miia finds this practice abhorrent because it is devoid of both romance and consent, and she carefully protects Kimihito from others of her kind, including her own mother. It should be noted that Miia’s father escaped from the lamia village, being unable to tolerate life as a communal husband due to his fear of snakes. There is no simple comparison to make between lamia breeding methods and real-world biology. I am not aware of any species completely dependent on another to sexually reproduce. However, the gender dynamic between lamia and humans can be compared to African lions. The male-female ratio of lions can range from 2:1 to 3:1, with females always outnumbering males. Very, very few male cubs survive to adulthood. Genetic diversity is therefore limited among lion prides, where practically every female is related to each other. Combine this with overhunting by humans, it becomes clear why lions are endangered.

The lamia tribes in Monster Musume face the same dilemma. In chapters 27 & 60-63 of the manga, it is explained that the species is suffering from a population crisis. Too few men are available to satisfy the lamia’s need to reproduce, and the lack of genetic diversity increases the risk of inbreeding. The stipulations of the Interspecies Cultural Exchange Act also prohibit kidnapping human males. The true goal of Miia’s exchange program was to find suitable human mates for her tribe, though she reneged on this ambition in favor of a classical, monoga-

mous relationship, as is right and proper.

According to the best character in the series, the normal gender ratio of lamia women to human men in the village is a shocking 100:1! Lamia who reside at the top of the social hierarchy, either due to age or occupation, have more immediate access to the communal husband than the rest, keeping population growth more stable. Additionally, it reduces the risk of inbreeding by preventing the husband from unknowingly mating with his own offspring. The human male has little to no role in child rearing, a trait shared with some avian species with female-leaning sex ratios, such as hummingbirds.

At the end of chapter 63, a compromise is suggested between the lamia traditionalists and the younger generation who wish to experience true romance. It involves sending out younger lamia women to find their own husbands across the globe, engaging in the international monster exchange program just as Miia did. A side character in the village posits that the new sex ratio between humans and lamia should be 5:1, or one husband for every five lamia. This is arguably the worst possible outcome for both species. Once again, we can look to actual science to explain the dire consequences of this decision.

It is stated that the child of a human male and a lamia will always be a lamia. No exceptions, no weird hybrids. By sending greater numbers of lamia out into the world to reproduce freely, rather than restrict their habitat to one area, it creates the conditions for the lamia population to explode and turn their kind into an invasive species. It likewise reduces the number of human males who can have offspring with human females, repeating the same demographic crisis on a larger scale. While the manga does not elaborate on what might happen in this situation, it goes to show that traditional cultural practices on marriage often have a valid purpose behind them. To clarify, if human men exclusively married lamia women for several generations, it would end with the mutual extinction of both species, because no more males would be born. Procreation would be rendered impossible.

This may not be such a big problem if lamia were not so sexually desirable. Even without their homebrew aphrodisiacs, these serpentine women are said to be irresistible on account of their intense sex drive (increased dramatically during full moons), large breasts, and natural charisma. Coitus with a lamia, according to the manga and anime, typically lasts several hours and requires intense preparation. Unlike human women, lamia are less choosy when it comes to male appearances or income (though these still matter considerably). Communal husbands are preferred to be either strong, handsome, or wealthy, but these are hardly prerequisites considering Kimihito is none of these. The main trait that is sought after is endurance in the bedroom and sexual prowess.

The mating habits of lamia must be compared with two other liminal kinds in Monster Musume to get a better grasp on the topic. For example, harpies are another mono-gendered species that require human males to produce offspring. However, they are migratory by nature and do not permanently settle in one habitat. This allows them to have brief flings with men around the globe rather than having lifelong partnerships, preserving genetic diversity while keeping a stable population

simultaneously.

By contrast, centaurs throughout the series have wildly different strategies to reproduce. There are male and female centaurs, yet sexual selection over multiple generations has rendered male centaurs overly brutish and animalistic. The strongest males held exclusive access to females, giving rise to a warrior culture among the species. Human men were then considered to be more desirable by female centaurs, as they were more gentle and affectionate in comparison, yet they could only serve as “teasers” to provide foreplay while the male centaur inseminates the female. This reduces men to perpetual cuckoldry. Nevertheless, the preference for human men has also dealt a critical blow to the centaur population, as centauresses commonly reject their own males for sex altogether.

The story arc involving Miia’s village finds a different conclusion than the one I have described before. The lamia instead offer human sex tourists to enter their village, having their way with them as soon as they arrive off the bus. While this keeps their numbers partially under control, it raises their genetic diversity to a whole new level. It’s treated as a win-win scenario, though there is still an unspoken risk of overpopulation within the village.

This entire manic tirade of a harem manga and anime was created for the whole purpose of exploring a fan theory that I have had for many years. I call it Liminal Population Theory, and it encompasses everything that I have written above. Much of it is speculation backed with scant evidence from the source material and real science. If nothing that I have written has left an impact on you, appreciate the fact that the first volume of Monster Musume was #1 on the New York Times Bestseller list for two weeks straight upon publication, and subsequent volumes were always within the top ten. Lust for monster girls has clearly reached both sides of the Pacific, and for fans like me, it’s not hard to see why. Even the manga author was surprised to see his creation becoming so popular in the United States.

Not to mention, a life-sized dakimakura body pillow of Miia was released in 2015 that was 23-feet long, or about 7 meters. It was sold for the reasonable price of $805.

To leave you with a quote regarding manga author Okayado’s inspiration for Monster Musume, he said during an interview with the Anime Herald that “Cute girls were the first thing I had confidence in.” He has certainly used his artistic talent to share that confidence with others.