Delete Grindr. Join Movie Club. Profit.
Reenact Salo, or 120 Days of Sodom at your leisure.
Delete your Grindr. Delete your Tinder. Delete your Scruff. Delete your GFet and your Fet Life and your Slack. Now throw your phone at a guy that insists on riding his bike hands free; we get it, you’re straight.
There are lots of things to be said about book clubs, which The Cut says you should join: a sense of community, reading is fun, you can subject yourself and others to misery by either picking Lullaby again or using it as an opportunity to fuck one of the members. I think there are better ways to be emotionally sadomasochistic: you could literally just lube up a copy of American Psycho or you could be old fashioned and cruise at a public reading at The New School.
Whaaat, you, too, enjoy Jean Genet’s The Maids? This is wild and completely a good gauge of your personality and intellect and also probably your class background. The good thing about cruising at public readings and then fucking them in the library by the anthropology section is that there are more nonwhite people like me there, so you can cross us off your Sexy Scavenger Hunt in three fell swoops.
I, personally, prefer to give out hand jobs at screenings of Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s The Merchant of Four Seasons, because, not unlike my hand jobs themselves, it feels long and tense and depressing and involves apples. My personal proclivities lean towards film because it’s the second most intellectual way to lead a sedentary lifestyle, the first being book club membership. The only time I’m in gyms is to watch friends work out, as I sit on the floor and read a copy of FilmComment and eat a box of fries, thereby combing my many passions: laziness, fast food, movies, reading, and judging people for not thinking that Alien 3 is David Fincher’s underrated masterpiece.
I have thought of organizing a movie club of likeminded art fags that are also emotionally stunted with various mommy and/or daddy issues, but I already go to the Angelika Film Center so often. Movies also take less time to ingest, so you can get to pontificating about them in lines for other movies more quickly and loudly. It’s hard to do that for books, because reading is a process, and I’m a slower readers, and I want to get my hot take out (in someone’s face) as soon as possible, so I can move on .
I won’t say I haven’t kicked someone out of my bed for badmouthing J. Hoberman, and I won’t say that for a while that my safe word was “there’s no place like a sapiosexual’s mouth”. But if I were to organize such a club, there’d be serious vetting involved. When was the last time you protested a Kevin Smith movie by writing a think piece while someone went down on you? Must be within the last 3 fortnights. I will dare to use the word “fortnight” unironically. Do you think that Terrence Malick has sold out? Answers must be either 27 pages long or 300 words long but covered in the bodily fluid of your choice. If you haven’t had a formal higher education, what are you doing here? How am I supposed to intellectually and emotionally tokenize you? Is someone who likes the five and a half hour director’s cut of Nymphomaniac more or less likely to last longer in bed than someone who likes La Jetee?
Since I asked you to delete Slack, because the user interface sucks, members would communicate by smoke signal and the hankie code. Finger sandwiches will not be served, as someone who really likes David Lynch would be catering, so they would be ear sandwiches, with real faux-“listening to someone talk about the adaptation of Play It As It Lays and the influence of The Second Sex on it” ear. BYOB: Bring your own bondage gear. Bring your own sense of entitlement and warped view of intelligence. Bring your own phone charger wires to use as hand ties. Bring your own tote bags filled with loose discs of Family Guy to use as Frisbees.
It’s great to meet people with similar interests that are on their Facebook profile. My movie club would be a great place to organize spontaneous pubic sex scenarios while also arguing over the merits of Leni Riefenstahl. What I’m saying is, hot people watch movies too.