Wow, now you can read Seventeen Magazine and get all the references.
Ann Althouse reacts to the NYT Magazine’s article about a cultish-seeming “celibacy club” at Harvard (worth reading in the print version, by the way, if only to view the painfully awkward photo of the True Love Revolution members. Sadly I’m having trouble finding it online, but let your imaginations run wild.)
Did that answer the question whether you’ll be happier if you abstain than if you go ahead and have sex? Can you really control the flow of hormones and the accumulation of bad memories by not having sex? Isn’t the fear of future bad memories itself a source of unhappiness?
Anyway, enough about these Annette Hargrove wannabes. (A white eyelet shirt, Virgin Janie Fredell? Really?) What I am reminded of is this line from one of my favorite movies:
Max: I’m too nostalgic. I’ll admit it.
Skippy: We graduated four months ago. What can you possibly be nostalgic for?
Max: I’m nostalgic for conversations I had yesterday. I’ve begun reminiscing events before they even occur. I’m reminiscing this right now. I can’t go to the bar because I’ve already looked back on it in my memory… and I didn’t have a good time.
