Let's talk about sex.
Specifically, let's talk about sex on television. I will tell you right now, I've reconciled my personal decisions and religious opinions with the fact that television is firmly committed to constantly exercising and exploring the implications of free love. I acknowledge that, in order to enjoy the sardonic and philosophical wit of "House," I have to deal with Chase asking Cameron (season two) and Thirteen (current season) if they, you know, want to have sex. I accept that in order to squeal like a fangirl over Damon in "The Vampire Diaries," I have to watch ever-so-casual teen sex between Elena and Stephan. I'm over it.
Sort of. Yesterday I worked out in my dorm's exercise room, bemoaning the fact that since the elliptical was in use, I was relegated to the equipment of the lower class, i.e., the exercise bike. (Who on earth ever thought an exercise bike was a good idea? I'll kill my thighs for some fresh air, but come on, it's worse than a treadmill!) As I ascended the Throne of Pain, (I was in my gym clothes; I was committed), I began to pay attention to what was on the screen.
Usually when I exercise, I hold my laptop on the console and watch an episode of television. I can use headphones and avoid the otherwise-necessary closed captions, and I never have to negotiate with anyone over what we watch. Hey, I'm a television major. If you don't want to watch what I want to watch, you're going down.
Unfortunately, balancing a laptop doesn't really jell with riding a bike. So instead of "Parks and Recreation," I was going to watch my fellow excercisee's season three DVDs of "Gossip Girl."
I know the series vaguely enough to name the characters but have no idea who they are currently dating. My lack of opinion about one relationship or another made this episode a microcosm of objective studies in television sex. Serena and Nate were about to start dating — or were they? They wanted to take it slow, so they slept together three times in 40 minutes. But not without questioning their relationship in between, and even going to a party with different dates (all to discover they're meant for each other, of course).
I know this is "Gossip Girl." I know this is what they do. I know the premise of tangled sexual relations is the basis of the show's success. But as I watched, I realized — it wasn't fun. As soon as a couple began to kiss, the game was over. I already knew how it ended, because it would end the same way it always ends. They have sex. The end. Well, until someone cheats, or falls out of love, misses a birthday or what have you.
There was no anticipation, no tension. As soon as Serena's shirt comes off, you might as well just go to the next scene, because no one is going to stop, no one is going to have second thoughts, no one is going to ask questions. It's a blind will to passion that has lost its passion simply in its monotony.
I'm not asking television to lose the sex. That's like asking the Subway in LaFortune to offer $5 foot-longs. But what I do ask is that there be some sort of variation. Give me a pair of teenagers who break up without having slept together. Or who, I don't know, talk about the implications of sex for two seconds before it happens. Something to acknowledge that sex, however casual you want it to be, is a big deal, no matter how many times it happens or how many boyfriends you've had.
By bombarding the audience with it, you've numbed us. By the end of the third act of that "Gossip Girl" episode, I was bored. Bored by sex! Can you believe it? It wasn't interesting anymore. And, as any television major will tell you, the goal of every television show is to keep our interest.
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
Contact Stephanie DePrez at sdeprez@nd.edu
