Velociworld

THE SENSES

Remember, as a youngster, the debates over which of the five senses one could least do without? I do. It was rite, rote, ritual. It never deviated.

I canna do widdout the sense of sight!

Yes! And then I canna do widdout the sense of hearing!

Yes! And then I canna do widdout the sense of smell!

Okay. And then come taste.

Bringing up the rear? The superfluous sense of touch.

I am here to tell you, sistren and brethren, we had it all wrong. All wrong.

It is the sense of touch that makes us humans. That makes us the basest of animals, even. Consider:

Touch envelops the entire body. Every square inch. Think about that.

Now consider: would you rather have eyesight, or the ability to have an orgasm? Call me Blind Lemon Jefferson on this one, peeps.

Or: I cannot hear you, and yet I can feel your erogenous zones. The tactile, the tactile, is what makes us sentient. Can one imagine hugging their child without feeling that sense of warmth? Shaking a hand without feeling a sense of conmraderie? Shall I explore backslapping, rib-poking, ass-grabbing, cheek-caressing, buttocks-fondling, hair-stroking, finger-kissing, hand-holding, arms-cradling, genitalia-sucking touching? And, by the way, most things stink. It is an endeavor to find something I even want to smell. Harder still to find something I want to gaze upon.

I state my case: would you rather see your newborn child, or feel it, caress it? Feel the soft give of your lover's tongue, or taste it? Feel a pet's soft fur, or smell it?

It's all about the tactility, Intrepids. If you can feel it, it's real.

We underrate the touch, relegate it to fifth string. Not me, though. In fact, this entire post has left me rather grasping.

So please excuse me whilst I go grasp something.