Objectum Sexuality. Or, I've Seen It All Now.

Blog Note: My partner in blog slash crime, Lo, thinks that this story is false. Judge for yourself- this does seem a bit ... extreme. However, after some in depth, mind-numbing research, it would appear that unfortunately, she is horribly wrong. Typical.

And so, I present to you, the weirdest topic Snark N' Beans has ever faced: Obejctum Sexuality.

The "Objectum Sexuality" website describes this ... lifestyle ... as the following:

"Objectùm-Sexuality is an orientation to love objects.

Sexual orientation is defined as the nature of sexual preference while the prolific definition stands as: the direction of someone's sexual desire toward people of the opposite gender, people of the same gender, or people of both. This does not include objects.

However, orientation itself is defined as: a complex mental state involving beliefs and feelings and values and dispositions to act in certain ways. This does include objects as we see it.
We love objects and many of us in an intimate way and this feeling is innate. Objectùm-sexual love comes for most in a similar awakening as other sexualities at the start of puberty. This is often followed by an acute awareness that we do not relate to peers due to the source of the projected feelings. Often objectùm-sexual people feel outcast or pressured by mainstream sexuality with a helpless feeling that we cannot change what comes so naturally."

In laymans terms, these people are pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable to view romantically or not. Sure, I'll betcha that in the olden days of yore, homosexuality was viewed in a similar light- but c'mon people. Let's draw the line. People loving people = cool. People loving objects = debatable.

Sure, I love my Gucci loafers as much as the next designer diva, but that doesn't mean I go around spooning them at night. I don't hold dreams of our future together; with Gucci loafer #1 providing for us and our children (adopted, natch- don't be silly here!) and Gucci loafer #2 bringing home the bacon -- and speaking of bacon, that can get awkward sometimes, because my Gucci loafers have the WORST appetite! Going out to a restaurant with them can be sooo embarassing. I've tried to confront them about their apparent anorexia but .... oh. wait. THEY'RE SHOES.

Meet Amy Wolf. Amy, the subject of a recent news article.(http://jezebel.com/5331003/woman-to-wed-amusement-park-ride)

She is in love with a fairground ride called 1001 Nacht, for which she writes poetry. In case you're wondering, her lover, who I'm sure she tenderly refers to as "Nachty" (GET IT?!) is pictured above.

The article says of Amy that "...based on appearances, she seems like an out-and-proud lesbian, but has no interest in humans. She also loves a church banister, a banister in her home, and the Empire State building."

Well, it seems like Amy is a little bit of a minx, huh? How does she balance all of her lovers?? And good lord- how have none of them found out about the others?!

To the untrained eye, this might appear to be the Paris landmark, The Eiffel Tower. However, to a woman named Erika, it is her husband. She has since renamed herself Erika Eiffel. I wish I was joking.

In one of my personal favorite examples, this woman poses by the Berlin Wall on her wedding day. No, her wife- (yes, wife. Erika describes her lover as feminine) isn't cropped out of the picture. She's standing right next to it. The day is June 14, 1979, and they've been very happy since. But she doesn't like referring to the structure as "it" because "calling something an 'it' instantly means it's inanimate." She gets "a sense" of an object's gender. According to her, the Eiffel Tower is female.

Again, I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

But what does this mean for the average person? How can we relate to what we would typically view as such deviant, debatably mentally unstable behavior? No need to fear. The smash hit feature film "Anchorman" finally gave the Objectum Sexuality followers someone in pop culture to look up to. And that man is Steve Carrell.