Sex Where There Was No Sex Before

Famed Simpsons writer George Meyer pops up in The New Yorker from time to time.  This piece, which to my surprise is free on-line, is from three years ago.  In it Meyer demonstrates the panache for the absurd that served the show so well for so long.  The premise is fairly simple, take one of the most boring things imaginable (in this case conferences) and describe it erotically using every word this side of “heaving”.  The results are amazing:

There’s nothing subtle about a PANEL DISCUSSION. Its thrills are dizzying, electric, a filthy mule kick to the greedy core of desire. Wisdom crackles from the dais. Insights dart and flash like the doomed fish in a whore’s aquarium. You take notes like a madman, but your pen flies apart, slinging hot ink down your pant leg.

I cannot resist a second:

There are times when a man’s soul is so battered, so hopelessly trampled, that the only balm is a TELECONFERENCE . . . or two, or three. Where is the shame in this? The French do it.

Read the whole thing.  It’s breathtaking in its ludicrous sincerity. 


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