I recently finished reading Still Life with Woodpecker by Tom Robbins. Awesome book, borrow my copy, go read it. In the beginning of the book it states the following:
…yes, to make sexual love so secure and same and sanitary, so slick and frolicsome, so casual that it is not a manifestation of love at all, but a near anonymous, near autonomous, hedonistic scratching of a bunny itch, an itch far removed from any direct relation to the feverish enigmas of Life and Death, and a scratching programmed so that it would in no way interfere with the real purpose of human beings in a capitalistic, puritanical society, which is to produce goods and consume them?
I don’t think it matters that this is in the context of a love story. This is true. And after reading this I felt more than justified and OK with my vow.
And P.S.: “produce goods and consume them?” like eating babies? which is also OK I guess…