There has been growing concern over the intense loneliness suffered by necrophiliacs, who feel they are not part of any family or community.
Take “Hayden”, who, Vice informs us, is a male who “will never forget the moment when he first realized he was a necrophile.”
This wasn’t anything like that feeling you get when pull over in an emergency and discover the roadside toilet is only a pit forgotten by the state maintenance men a decade ago. (Avoid exit 187 on I-75 south of Toledo.)
No, this was seriously more serious feeling. Hayden came across the corpse of a girl at a funeral home—and the lust hit him like a coffin lid.
“I remember the way the light glinted off her face and made her look like she was asleep, but her eyes were so wide and so dead,” he continued. “I thought I could drown in them. I wanted to brush my hand through her hair and curl my fingers around hers and just let my skin linger and mold to hers so I could feel her forever. It felt like it was over too soon.”
Vice went on to raise awareness (but not the dead) by telling us “necrophilia is more common than we are comfortable acknowledging. After all, sex and death have always been connected, even in language”, and reminding us of a bit of French (not ooh la la).
Turns out there are official categories of necrophiliacs, ranging from Class I, role players, to Class IX, “homicidal necrophiles…who are so desperate to have sex with a body that they will kill the living to achieve this.” Didn’t Netflix have a special on this?
We next, thanks to Vice, meet Carla Valentine, who is a mortuary technician. Her goal is “making necrophilia accessible”. She is “looking at it objectively and encouraging others to do the same.” She said:
People are relatively less shocked by cases of torture and murder involving live humans than they are by the idea that someone may be attracted to or have some sort of sensual or intimate encounter with the dead. Chat about a violent murder at the dinner table and people join the conversation; mention necrophilia and the whole table goes silent.
I can verify this. I once in high school tried singing Dr Hook’s Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball, which mentions our subject, at the dinner table, and the Monsignor gave me the coldest of looks.
Though the article doesn’t say so, poor Hayden has likely been barred from the cemetery, and has been reduced to satisfying “his necrophilic urges” by “writing poetry”.
Speaking of poetry, most weep when they hear the country lyric “your cold, cold heart”—but not Hayden.
Anyway, all of these people are children of God. They all have a right to a family. Nobody should be thrown out, or, worse, be made miserable because of their lusts.
These people, who live on the existential peripheries, wounded and on the margins, love, and want to share that love. Who are we to deny love? Love is love. Currently, necrophiliacs cannot marry, not anywhere, which is deadly discrimination. Can we not understand their pain? And their ever-present need for disinfectant?
Well, maybe marriage is too much. Most people aren’t ready to accept necrophilia and the necrophiliac community and their curious proclivities. We need to slow things down a bit and prepare the way. We start with Pride, of course. How difficult is it to repurpose a hearse as a parade float? We just repaint the AIDS ones.
We then need an interim solution until the majority get over their prejudices. What we have to create is a civil union law. That way they are legally covered.
After all, we let people of the same sex who enjoy sodomizing each other to not only marry in many places, but also to join civil unions. There is nothing special about sodomy. It’s just one of many ways people explore their sexuality. Indeed, civil unions are an option for anybody in the LGBT community.
If we can give civil unions to all these people, we can give them to any self-labeling sexual-practice community, including necrophiliacs.
This granting of legal status will not, as is shriekingly clear, lead to a greater acceptance and practice of non-procreative sexual practices. You bigot.
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