I learned to kiss in the last rows of the Venice cinema in Barcelona during the transition, trying to copy the same movements that the actors and actresses did on the screen.
My favorite kiss was always the one between Gulf and Queen in Lady and the Tramp, although my father made any debate impossible by imposing his criteria with the beachy twist of Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster in From Here to Eternity.
Four decades later, pedagogy abandoned, pornography dangerously replaces the last and inoffensive rows of cinemas as the beginning of affective sexual discovery.
This past week Lluís Ballester, a researcher into the phenomena of pornography and prostitution among youth, said that 20% of today’s ten-year-olds have seen pornography on some screen. Entrance to Pornhub is as accessible for a young person as ordering a Happy Meal at a McDonald’s, a place that does not prevent, unlike digital pornography, a teenager from prolonging his innocence.
A boy cannot be taught music theory with the gasps of Jane Birkin in Je t’aime moi non plus, in the same way that he cannot be educated in sex with the screams of Gianna Dior in short stepmom videos.
And you can fall in love with Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, but not with the surreal tales that can be found in the tabs of any porn page.
For a teenager to discover that no one is his property, he has to go through heartbreak and, for this, family education is necessary. But also a technological protection so that they can develop emotional intelligence in the face of so much counterproductive information.
At this stifling speed, they too must decide where they are going. For this reason, an intimate relationship is not an orgasm at any price and with casual encounters, because if this is the way, we are leading our minors to run faster than the algorithms.
