Some artistic cliches are so fucking ubiquitously cliche that even pointing out the cliche feels too cliche.
I hope the preponderance of the word “cliche” in that sentence hammers home the extent of how cliche today’s subject is:
So you know how, when two characters are about to fuck each other’s brains out in a piece of art, the scene will cut right before they’re about to do the do?
Now, it’s any art’s prerogative to pick and choose what to show, and what to elide, for artistic purposes. But, doesn’t it strike anyone else as odd how often art will skip past humans interactions as potentially meaningful as sex? Isn’t exploring the meaningful interactions between aesthetic bodies the purview of art??
Shtooping hits that artistic sweet spot between the universal and the private. The vast majority of Earth’s population intercourse on the reg (hopefully) and on the rag (HOPEFULLY), usually (not hopefully?) behind closed doors. Shouldn’t we want art to peel back the curtain on the charged moments commonly inaccessible to us in our daily lives, out of sight for our pryingly inquisitive eyes?
Isn’t one of art’s primary functions to showcase that sight for our (cock) blocked eyes?