Voyeurism is a sexual pervasion whereby one experiences sexual gratification by watching other people engage in sexual activity. Just imagine you live in a mabati house where you have made a hole in the wall so that you can watch your neighbor in action.
Sometimes back, I was disappointed to learn that WWE wrestling, a sport I had dedicated much of my early childhood to, was a scripted entertainment show. That the Undertaker and Kane were not brothers and that Stone Cold Steve Austin, my favorite wrestler, was just a very good actor. Apparently, the only real thing about wrestling was the pain I felt when one of my playmates gave me a kick in the gonads and then did the “you can’t see me” like John Cena.
In the Roman Empire, the masses were often entertained by gladiators who engaged in deadly fights. What did the gladiators get in return for their trouble? Fame or a “good death”. And the masses got a dopamine rush and temporary amnesia from their problems.
It seems we have an innate desire to watch other human beings. From sports to entertainment, we like watching other people lose or win. There is a certain joy in watching Arsenal lose and Manchester united win.
Talking of winning, nowadays we have become obsessed with success stories and listening to people’s “journeys”. Anyone who is famous for whatever reason is now a motivational speaker. Fame is now synonymous with success. A person who is famous for posting nudes is called to the media to give relationship advise and their expert opinion on BBI. Even kids in diapers are called for interviews to tell us about the secrets to success in potty training. In fact, being famous for being famous is now a career aspiration for many young people. I digress.
When we were in high school, we used to hide our excitement as we perused through porn magazines with beautiful girls. Now things have changed. We start hashtags on social media about some old man’s nudes. Repulsive. As teenagers we used to have rousing conversations with details about our “conquests”. Now our conversations are bland, punctuated with intimate details of some celebrities’ sexual indiscretions. What the hell!
Since our attention is the product that is sold to advertisers, the internet panders to our voyeuristic instincts by providing us with a peephole. Social media amplifies our perversions.
We have become pre-occupied with spectator sports. Who has made it? Who has been caught in a scandal? What are the secrets to success?
It seems that we are constantly in an amphitheatre. Watching, cheering and jeering. Maybe all we are seeking is reassurance, a feeling that we are doing something about our lives. A temporary relief from our unpleasant circumstances.
But who has ever learnt how to ride a bike by watching YouTube videos?
Life is life
Fabio