ELIJAH BAK Sex is the singular issue on which most human activity is based. This may seem like a shopworn notion, but I think it bears some re-examination. Sex governs our minds like a benevolent dictator who generously allows most freedoms until his needs conflict with those freedoms: then the iron heel comes down, so to speak. If the sex drive is a dictator, then our reflective self-awareness, or consciousness, is the Che Guevara of the mind. Our self-awareness seeks to liberate our minds from the fleshly prison of desire, or at least to mitigate its iron control. Other mammals operate on the level of pheromone acquisition, meaning that when a dog, for example, smells the pheromones of a dog of the opposite gender, it becomes aroused and three months later a happy litter of puppies gets the “sack in the river” treat- ment. Humans are fortunate in that we are not at the mercy of our noses. If sexual desire were due to certain airborne agents, then we would still be up in the trees picking nits out of each other's back hair and humping every orifice available. (Individuals that still engage in these activities reveal the grotesque sentimentality of this epoch.) But the question deepens at this point: why does human sexual behaviour differ so fundamentally from that of other mammals? More specifically, why has the pheromone-based carnality left the realm of human experience and been replaced by good conversation, meaningful glances, soft light, . tight clothing and good rum? Who knows? Somewhere in*the development of the res cogitans (Descartes’ name for humanity: the thinking thing) we lost this most animalistic level of interrelation- ship and made the transition to the stage of lin- guistically-based acquaintanceship (meaning we talk to each other, rather than sniff each other's butts). _- taAneG Hn 70 Sartre's Sticky Synapses or Sex and the Sinuses Simply put, we went from apprehending each other's desire in a directly physical manner and then acting upon that perception, to having to converse with our prospective partners in order to convince _ them that we are the person with whom they should spend the night (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more). However, we still like to posit sexual desire as.a primordial urge, the need to procreate, etc. Sexual desire is probably the last legal remnant of demonic possession left over from the Dark Ages. We have all read, or at least heard of, examples of criminals’ defenses where they claimed to be unable to control themselves: “I was not myself, your Honour. I was out of control.” ‘Temporary insanity is the popular term we apply to this defense. The criminals in question are saying they were powerless to act other than they did, hence they were temporarily insane, or from a medieval perspective they were possessed. Possession is a good way of describing the effect of sexual desire on the mind of the self-aware human being. In the throes of sexual desire our senses feel clogged, we become mentally sluggish ; and single-minded in purpose. In short, we lose the veneer of civility and sink our consciousness into our bodies. This is how the French existentialist philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre, describes the state of arousal: as a mental stickiness, that mires, or nearly does, our consciousness in our bodies. For Sartre this is as close as we come.to being an object-in- itself. Sartre describes two modes of existence: the being-for-itself, and the being-in-itself. The for- itself is how humans are: we are, as far as we know, the only entities which can make our consciousness an object for itself. This means, simply put, that we are self-aware, self-reflective. The being-in-itself is the existence of non-self aware/reflective entities and is best understood as the contradiction of the