What is Jouissance?

Let’s get a little hardcore😁

One quote from that previous link:

Sex requires a phantasmic screen—any actual contact with a 'Real' flesh-and-blood other, any physical pleasure derived from touching another person, isn't just something obvious. It's inherently traumatic. We can only sustain it as long as this other person fits within the subject's fantasy-frame. So... what happens when that screen falls away? The act devolves into ugliness—maybe even horror.

And here is one from Žižek:

"...in the middle of the most intense sexual act, it is possible for us all of a sudden to 'disconnect' - all of a sudden, a question can emerge: 'What am I doing here, sweating and repeating these stupid gestures?'; pleasure can shift into disgust or into a strange feeling of distance. The key point is that, in this violent upheaval, nothing changed in reality: what caused the shift was merely the change in the other's position with regard to our phantasmatic frame" (pg. 65).
(Slavoj Žižek, The Plague of Fantasies, New York City: Verso, 1997)

@autoicon: how would you connect this to jouissance?

Regarding that link, specifically concerning jouissance:

Jouissance is basically that intense, almost jarring kind of pleasure—the sort of transgressive rush people get when they dive into things we don't usually bring up at the dinner table, like sex, violence, or even death. Now, beyond just having a standard set of ideas about how the world works, ideologies actually shape how we relate to this "Real of jouissance" if they want to stay relevant and keep going. To make matters even more interesting, Zizek contends that Thes Two registers of The real ara not The deepest; instead, he bundles them together under the label of "ideological fantasies" or "phantasms." You could say these fantasies act as a vital add-on to whatever ideology is in place. The funny thing is, the very fantasies that pull us into an ideology actually end up distorting its core principles. At its most fundamental level, the Real doesn't actually point to anything that exists outside the boundaries of the ideology itself. So in the last resort The real indicates The inherent and necessary finitude of The ideological fabric, whereas ideological fantasies work to mask that reality, making it seem like these issues are just random accidents or caused by some outside force acting against our community.

@na ofu - whose first quote is this from the link?

I don't really see eye to eye with him on this one, obviously... As for that part from Žižek down there, I actually know those bits by heart. I have massive, massive respect for him as a philosopher, but he does have this habit of throwing out a somewhat superficial claim—mostly just to stir the pot and get you digging deeper—that can be a little off, so there's definitely more nuance to it than that... It all stems from that famous Freudian catchphrase about how "sex is impossible," blah blah blah...

Really interesting point😁. I think we’re looking at desire and fantasy here. It’s pretty straightforward—fantasy is just one way we try to plug that hole in the Second, spinning ourselves in circles through these unfulfilled desires. A need only ever transforms into actual desire because it remains impossible to satisfy. If I remember correctly, sex according to Lacan is basically unachievable precisely because of this phantom presence; once you actually satisfy a physical need, it loses its status as "desire." That phantasmatic screen he’s talking about? To me, that’s just the idealized version of the person you're sleeping with. Once that screen shatters, the person you were having sex with vanishes too. You end up, in a sense, just having sex with yourself.🙂

"...right in the heat of the moment, during the most intense sexual encounter, you can suddenly just 'check out.' Out of nowhere, this thought hits you: 'What am I even doing right now, sweating through these mindless, repetitive motions?'
Yeah, well, that’s basically what Bukowski said, though let’s be honest, he wasn't exactly some deep philosopher...

... so basically, every sexual encounter just ends up feeling like a glorified form of masturbation 🙂 Honestly, I found the whole thing pretty hilarious while I was reading about it...

mistyscout2 said:@na ofu - whose first quote is this from the link?

I don't really see eye to eye with him on this one, obviously... As for that part from Žižek down there, I actually know those bits by heart. I have massive, massive respect for him as a philosopher, but he does have this habit of throwing out a somewhat superficial claim—mostly just to stir the pot and get you digging deeper—that can be a little off, so there's definitely more nuance to it than that... It all stems from that famous Freudian catchphrase about how "sex is impossible," blah blah blah...

Blah blah🙂 I think there’s some logic to it once you actually sit down and look at it.

mistyscout2 said:@na ofu - whose first quote is this from the link?

I don't really see eye to eye with him on this one, obviously... As for that part from Žižek down there, I actually know those bits by heart. I have massive, massive respect for him as a philosopher, but he does have this habit of throwing out a somewhat superficial claim—mostly just to stir the pot and get you digging deeper—that can be a little off, so there's definitely more nuance to it than that... It all stems from that famous Freudian catchphrase about how "sex is impossible," blah blah blah...

I honestly have no clue...

@Brandon Wright54: I’m right there with you. There’s something heavy in those words—you hit the nail right on the head.🙂

A quick little detour here, because I just stumbled onto this and it nearly killed me laughing:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhDCSjOR0I0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUoGNfy3Wvg

enjoy🙂

Jacob Newman77 said:I honestly have no clue...

@Brandon Wright54: I’m right there with you. There’s something heavy in those words—you hit the nail right on the head.🙂

A quick little detour here, because I just stumbled onto this and it nearly killed me laughing:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhDCSjOR0I0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUoGNfy3Wvg

enjoy🙂

haha, look at that physique.😁 Honestly, those types have never been my thing—it’s always been more about charisma for me.

Brandon Wright54 said:Blah blah🙂 I think there’s some logic to it once you actually sit down and look at it.

The reason I just wrote "bla bla" is honestly because I’ve read and written about this stuff so many times now that I'm getting a little bored with it, and I just didn't feel like rehashing the whole thing again. 🙂
Of course, what they're saying makes sense and holds weight, but it isn't some kind of universal law governing everything... Sexuality and how we express it comes in so many different shapes and sizes. The version Freud talks about feels almost specifically tailored to a consumerist society... There are so many different moments in life, and at the end of the day, you know yourself and your partner better than any textbook ever could... There are those times when it's just the two of you, when you're being truly intimate, looking into each other's eyes and just completely losing yourselves in one another... And while that idea that attraction always requires some sort of "fantasy" might hold up when you're looking at girls on posters, or maybe watching a movie, it's not really necessary for me when I'm with someone I love—someone where we can just be totally unfiltered, farting in front of each other and talking about absolutely anything, from the mysteries of the universe to our favorite bands, or even just how many times we had to run to the bathroom today... Those topics might seem trivial, but that's what makes life feel alive. When you look at it that way, all these heavy discussions about the real, the symbolic, and all those intense theorists and pseudo-philosophers lose their grip on me... I'm not saying philosophy isn't important—far from it, I actually adore it and spend quite a bit of my time immersed in it—but certain claims that basically say "this is just how it is, period" feel silly, pretentious, and a bit trendy to me. I rely on philosophy, but I'm talking about these rigid "concepts" or "sciences," etc. Philosophy is great because it stays vital and breathing, unlike some of these stiff, clinical disciplines.

I'm not trying to start an argument here; I'm just sharing my take on the whole thing. You have to learn how to engage with these ideas while keeping them in the right context... You shouldn't walk around expecting these thinkers to have known everything (or anything, for that matter) or believing that everything they say carries ultimate importance.

mistyscout2 said:The reason I just wrote "bla bla" is honestly because I’ve read and written about this stuff so many times now that I'm getting a little bored with it, and I just didn't feel like rehashing the whole thing again. 🙂
Of course, what they're saying makes sense and holds weight, but it isn't some kind of universal law governing everything... Sexuality and how we express it comes in so many different shapes and sizes. The version Freud talks about feels almost specifically tailored to a consumerist society... There are so many different moments in life, and at the end of the day, you know yourself and your partner better than any textbook ever could... There are those times when it's just the two of you, when you're being truly intimate, looking into each other's eyes and just completely losing yourselves in one another... And while that idea that attraction always requires some sort of "fantasy" might hold up when you're looking at girls on posters, or maybe watching a movie, it's not really necessary for me when I'm with someone I love—someone where we can just be totally unfiltered, farting in front of each other and talking about absolutely anything, from the mysteries of the universe to our favorite bands, or even just how many times we had to run to the bathroom today... Those topics might seem trivial, but that's what makes life feel alive. When you look at it that way, all these heavy discussions about the real, the symbolic, and all those intense theorists and pseudo-philosophers lose their grip on me... I'm not saying philosophy isn't important—far from it, I actually adore it and spend quite a bit of my time immersed in it—but certain claims that basically say "this is just how it is, period" feel silly, pretentious, and a bit trendy to me. I rely on philosophy, but I'm talking about these rigid "concepts" or "sciences," etc. Philosophy is great because it stays vital and breathing, unlike some of these stiff, clinical disciplines.

I'm not trying to start an argument here; I'm just sharing my take on the whole thing. You have to learn how to engage with these ideas while keeping them in the right context... You shouldn't walk around expecting these thinkers to have known everything (or anything, for that matter) or believing that everything they say carries ultimate importance.

The connection you're describing is essentially love stripped of the sexual component. Love kicks in once that initial chemical spark settles down, leaving behind a solid relationship—if it was a bad match to begin with, nothing remains. In my view, that's when the fantasy—that sort of mental buffer between two people—dissolves because the need has been met and the individuals truly merge.

I'm not suggesting you believe everything blindly, but you have to admit that this interpretation of sex—where you lose track of who is actually involved, or where it's suggested that people are essentially just having sex with themselves—is pretty ridiculous.🙂

Oh, you’re honestly hilarious...

I actually wrote this one silly little one-act mock-drama about the whole topic a long, long time ago, and then posted it on the forum not too long after that. It just goes to show how ridiculous the whole thing is and how much fun you can have poking fun at it—honestly, some Hollywood comedies have even used similar tropes, and I highly doubt people were sitting around studying Freud or Foucault to get those jokes right. Let me see if I can dig up the link for you. It might actually be right up your alley. 😁

Here, have a look:

link

😉

@Brandon Wright54 — by the way, okay, I get the whole love thing. But surely you aren't suggesting that once love enters the picture, it somehow completely rules out sex??! Because if that's the case, what else is making love if not having sex with someone you actually care about? I really hope you weren't implying that one excludes the other... In my view, you can only approach sex in two ways: "just fucking" (which is more like a structured form of masturbation, as Freud points out) or "making love" (which is the other side of the coin)... That's the gist of it, anyway...

mistyscout2 said:Oh, you’re honestly hilarious...

I actually wrote this one silly little one-act mock-drama about the whole topic a long, long time ago, and then posted it on the forum not too long after that. It just goes to show how ridiculous the whole thing is and how much fun you can have poking fun at it—honestly, some Hollywood comedies have even used similar tropes, and I highly doubt people were sitting around studying Freud or Foucault to get those jokes right. Let me see if I can dig up the link for you. It might actually be right up your alley. 😁

Here, have a look:

link

😉

@Brandon Wright54 — by the way, okay, I get the whole love thing. But surely you aren't suggesting that once love enters the picture, it somehow completely rules out sex??! Because if that's the case, what else is making love if not having sex with someone you actually care about? I really hope you weren't implying that one excludes the other... In my view, you can only approach sex in two ways: "just fucking" (which is more like a structured form of masturbation, as Freud points out) or "making love" (which is the other side of the coin)... That's the gist of it, anyway...

I think there’s a third dimension to sex too: the exploration of the unknown. First, there's making love—that pure, sensual sense of connection. Second, there's the technical aspect—practicing some specific act. To me, the third dimension involves that dose of the forbidden that’s so magnetic, yet almost impossible to put into words. That’s where the fantasy kicks in—sex with an idea that vanishes the second you actually reach it. Honestly, I don't think you can experience that third dimension with someone once you've gotten truly close to them, because the fantasy gets wiped out by their actual, physical reality. For instance, it's hard to maintain an idealized image of someone once you've seen them bloated and gross, loudly slurping down a bowl of greasy chili at 2 AM (okay, gross example, I admit).

Honestly, you don't even need to maintain some perfect, idealized image of someone. This "third thing" you’re bringing up—those little games and escapades—they can totally happen even after you've really gotten to know someone and seen them for who they actually are, without all the rose-colored glasses. The trick is that while different kinds of fantasies might bubble up, they’re just temporary. You aren't projecting those illusions onto your partner; instead, you both just kind of laugh about it, knowing it's just playing around with ideas. In fact, I see things quite differently than you do: I think these moments aren't just possible once you've bonded, they're actually *only* possible once you truly know the person. Otherwise, you don't really have a baseline to tell the difference between a "fantasy" and what's actually "real." Once you know each other deeply enough, you have that foundation to play with those fantasies yourselves, rather than letting those illusions run the show and dictate your relationship—which usually ends badly anyway, because when you start with that intense "infatuation," you always end up dealing with the inevitable crash when reality sets in.

mistyscout2 said:Honestly, you don't even need to maintain some perfect, idealized image of someone. This "third thing" you’re bringing up—those little games and escapades—they can totally happen even after you've really gotten to know someone and seen them for who they actually are, without all the rose-colored glasses. The trick is that while different kinds of fantasies might bubble up, they’re just temporary. You aren't projecting those illusions onto your partner; instead, you both just kind of laugh about it, knowing it's just playing around with ideas. In fact, I see things quite differently than you do: I think these moments aren't just possible once you've bonded, they're actually *only* possible once you truly know the person. Otherwise, you don't really have a baseline to tell the difference between a "fantasy" and what's actually "real." Once you know each other deeply enough, you have that foundation to play with those fantasies yourselves, rather than letting those illusions run the show and dictate your relationship—which usually ends badly anyway, because when you start with that intense "infatuation," you always end up dealing with the inevitable crash when reality sets in.

Exactly.👍 The whole point of a fantasy, or a phantasm, is being aware that it’s just a construct while still staying tethered to reality (at least partially). That's the only way to truly lose yourself in the game. It's the main reason why a certain type of philosopher will always get more out of the play than, say, an average kid would.
The core of a fantasy is control, management, and awareness.

mistyscout2 said:Honestly, you don't even need to maintain some perfect, idealized image of someone. This "third thing" you’re bringing up—those little games and escapades—they can totally happen even after you've really gotten to know someone and seen them for who they actually are, without all the rose-colored glasses. The trick is that while different kinds of fantasies might bubble up, they’re just temporary. You aren't projecting those illusions onto your partner; instead, you both just kind of laugh about it, knowing it's just playing around with ideas. In fact, I see things quite differently than you do: I think these moments aren't just possible once you've bonded, they're actually *only* possible once you truly know the person. Otherwise, you don't really have a baseline to tell the difference between a "fantasy" and what's actually "real." Once you know each other deeply enough, you have that foundation to play with those fantasies yourselves, rather than letting those illusions run the show and dictate your relationship—which usually ends badly anyway, because when you start with that intense "infatuation," you always end up dealing with the inevitable crash when reality sets in.

But fantasies are essentially a type of idealized image—desire operates within a certain field of vision, and modern society pushes a collective standard of the "perfect" body. I agree that playing with fantasies is possible once a relationship deepens, but I think we missed each other there. I said a fantasy *about* the person you're having sex with isn't possible. That's where a third party enters the equation. According to Lacan, desire naturally gravitates toward the impossible, so I'd agree with that part. That tension in desire is basically a drive toward something just out of reach, and that desire exists precisely through fantasy. If you look closely—if the relationship is actually solid—why then is there this need for fake identities during sex? That is the true function of the phantasm. I don't think it stays "just playing"...

Brandon Wright54 said:But fantasies are essentially a type of idealized image—desire operates within a certain field of vision, and modern society pushes a collective standard of the "perfect" body. I agree that playing with fantasies is possible once a relationship deepens, but I think we missed each other there. I said a fantasy *about* the person you're having sex with isn't possible. That's where a third party enters the equation. According to Lacan, desire naturally gravitates toward the impossible, so I'd agree with that part. That tension in desire is basically a drive toward something just out of reach, and that desire exists precisely through fantasy. If you look closely—if the relationship is actually solid—why then is there this need for fake identities during sex? That is the true function of the phantasm. I don't think it stays "just playing"...

Since that’s heading in a completely different direction—I mean, we aren't just shifting sub-forums here, we're pivoting to an entirely different subject matter—and because we're talking about societal trends rather than the individual, I think it’s best if I just set that aside for now. Besides, I don't really fall for those kinds of illusions myself; I've never looked at those airbrushed, "perfect" bodies you see in a Super Bowl commercial and actually thought they represented perfection.

Brandon Wright54 said:But fantasies are essentially a type of idealized image—desire operates within a certain field of vision, and modern society pushes a collective standard of the "perfect" body. I agree that playing with fantasies is possible once a relationship deepens, but I think we missed each other there. I said a fantasy *about* the person you're having sex with isn't possible. That's where a third party enters the equation. According to Lacan, desire naturally gravitates toward the impossible, so I'd agree with that part. That tension in desire is basically a drive toward something just out of reach, and that desire exists precisely through fantasy. If you look closely—if the relationship is actually solid—why then is there this need for fake identities during sex? That is the true function of the phantasm. I don't think it stays "just playing"...

It might not even be possible during the act itself, though I’d say there's a chance it happens then too—sort of like how someone from that other thread mentioned, where a "philosopher" might actually be visualizing the woman they're with while it's happening. But putting that aside for a moment, I honestly feel like he wouldn't even need a fantasy in that specific instant. I feel like Lacan and those who follow his school of thought lean way too heavily on this whole concept of "fantasy." Whether they're right about it or not, I can't quite say. And look, I know I'm rambling, but I really think their obsession with fantasy just pushes them away from other interesting ways of thinking. It seems like if they moved past it, things would get a little too intense for them, which is probably why they stick to it. If they actually looked elsewhere, they might stumble upon the real truth, but then all of philosophy and psychoanalysis would basically lose its purpose—they'd just get lost in pure love and that genuine sense of oneness with the person you're with.

Brandon Wright54 said:But fantasies are essentially a type of idealized image—desire operates within a certain field of vision, and modern society pushes a collective standard of the "perfect" body. I agree that playing with fantasies is possible once a relationship deepens, but I think we missed each other there. I said a fantasy *about* the person you're having sex with isn't possible. That's where a third party enters the equation. According to Lacan, desire naturally gravitates toward the impossible, so I'd agree with that part. That tension in desire is basically a drive toward something just out of reach, and that desire exists precisely through fantasy. If you look closely—if the relationship is actually solid—why then is there this need for fake identities during sex? That is the true function of the phantasm. I don't think it stays "just playing"...

It seems like a pretty straightforward concept to me. Once you actually possess something, the frantic "desire" for it—that constant mental loop of daydreaming about having it or craving it—just sortically evaporates. Now, don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean you can't fully enjoy what you have. In my book, "having" something is a much better way to put it than just "desiring" it; I’m leaning a bit toward those Eastern philosophies or even some Stoic principles there, focusing more on the reality of what *is* in the moment rather than the hunger for what isn't. To give a little example that I think works quite well: when I’m sitting there craving chocolate, I am definitely desiring it. But once I actually start eating that chocolate, the dynamic shifts. I essentially become one with the chocolate—metaphorically speaking, at least, though biologically it's quite literal. It becomes a part of me, and I am actively experiencing it. There’s really no reason left to pine for it when I can actually experience it so deeply. That chocolate becomes part of my physical being; it hits my taste buds, my palate, my tongue—it satisfies all my senses. It sends these signals to my brain, triggering a lovely little cascade of dopamine and all that wonderful neurobiology we know so well. Eventually, the chocolate is literally absorbed into my body, providing me with actual energy. You could still say I "desire" the chocolate in the sense that I am not rejecting it, but the restless longing is gone because I finally have the "real thing" right here in front of me.

Honestly, I don't think Lacan actually brought anything new to the table here.

It’s funny how often we fall into that trap where we spend all this energy convinced that we absolutely need something, only to finally get our hands on it and realize it wasn't actually what we were looking for at all. It’s like you chase this specific goal for months, thinking it’ll be this life-changing moment, but once it arrives, there's just this weird sense of emptiness because it turns out it wasn't "the one." That’s really the heart of the matter, isn't it? I’ve been spending quite a bit of time lately circling around the concept of the *objet petit a*, and honestly, it feels like one of those ideas that you think you’ve finally pinned down, only to have it slip right through your fingers the moment you try to grab it. It’s that elusive little thing—that tiny, nagging gap between what we actually have and the impossible perfection we feel is just out of reach. It isn't some tangible prize you can go out and buy at a Target or find on Amazon; it's more like the phantom itch of desire itself. You know that feeling when you’re scrolling through something online, thinking, "If I just had that one specific thing, everything would click," only to realize once it arrives that the satisfaction lasts about five seconds before your brain starts hunting for the next missing piece? That’s the essence of it. It’s the cause of our desire, rather than the object of it. We aren't really chasing the thing; we're chasing the feeling of wholeness that the thing promises but can never actually deliver. I was reading some stuff regarding Lacan the other day—and yes, I did spend way too long getting lost in those dense paragraphs—and it struck me how much this explains our modern obsession with constant consumption. We’re essentially running on a treadmill of longing, perpetually chasing a ghost that keeps moving just a step ahead of us. It’s a bit exhausting if you think about it too hard, which is probably why I usually prefer to just let these heavy thoughts simmer in the background while I focus on more practical things. But there's something strangely comforting about realizing that the "missing piece" might not even exist in the first place. It takes the pressure off, doesn't it?Honestly, I think that just points to a certain level of immaturity and lack of experience, probably driven by some kind of external manipulation. It’s like their desires aren't even their own; they're being steered by the people they're trying to keep up with—whether that's business partners, peers, or just their social circle. It's that classic idea of the desire of the Other, where you end up wanting exactly what someone else wants you to want. Or, you know, the mass media does the same thing, shaping our cravings so directly that we basically become puppets of what society tells us to crave. But, as I was saying before, this really only happens to people who haven't quite developed a solid enough sense of self or a structured personality. For someone who actually has a grounded identity, it doesn't really matter where the spark of that desire originally came from. What matters is that the desire stays consistent and feels authentically ours, rather than being this constantly shifting, fluid thing. In a way, that constant flux is exactly what fuels our capitalist system of mass consumption, because no matter what you buy, that specific object—that *objet petit a*—never actually turns out to be "the one."

Brandon Wright54 said:But fantasies are essentially a type of idealized image—desire operates within a certain field of vision, and modern society pushes a collective standard of the "perfect" body. I agree that playing with fantasies is possible once a relationship deepens, but I think we missed each other there. I said a fantasy *about* the person you're having sex with isn't possible. That's where a third party enters the equation. According to Lacan, desire naturally gravitates toward the impossible, so I'd agree with that part. That tension in desire is basically a drive toward something just out of reach, and that desire exists precisely through fantasy. If you look closely—if the relationship is actually solid—why then is there this need for fake identities during sex? That is the true function of the phantasm. I don't think it stays "just playing"...

You're spot on there, though I think we really need to keep in mind what I was getting at earlier, especially that part toward the end.

Brandon Wright54 said:But fantasies are essentially a type of idealized image—desire operates within a certain field of vision, and modern society pushes a collective standard of the "perfect" body. I agree that playing with fantasies is possible once a relationship deepens, but I think we missed each other there. I said a fantasy *about* the person you're having sex with isn't possible. That's where a third party enters the equation. According to Lacan, desire naturally gravitates toward the impossible, so I'd agree with that part. That tension in desire is basically a drive toward something just out of reach, and that desire exists precisely through fantasy. If you look closely—if the relationship is actually solid—why then is there this need for fake identities during sex? That is the true function of the phantasm. I don't think it stays "just playing"...

I actually think it can be more than that; I don't think it necessarily implies that the relationship isn't good enough, which I feel is a bit of a false assumption. The purpose of all that play could be anything depending on the person. It might be a way to deepen the bond by learning something new about your partner, or it might truly just be PLAY for the sake of play (because honestly, things don't always need an external purpose, right?). It could also be that one person wants to experience certain things without compromising the integrity or dignity of the relationship (in which case, I’d agree with you), or maybe someone wants to try things that they simply can't do in their everyday life for practical reasons: like, say, having a fling with a tourist from the Philippines 😁 (just throwing examples out there!), or pretending he's a firefighter rescuing his partner from a crisis (I mean, they aren't crazy enough to actually start a fire just for the thrill!), or even saving her from some mythical dragon—since dragons obviously don't exist in the real world, it's impossible to do that for real. You get the idea. People can just be more aware of those little fantasies and enjoy them for what they are. And they don't even have to go that far. After decades of marriage, people might just want to add a little spice to their lives without jumping fences or sneaking around behind anyone's back. They might even lay their fantasies out completely bare only to realize they aren't actually that interesting. The possibilities for play are endless and really just depend on how imaginative the people involved are... And of course, assuming the ego is stronger and a bit smarter than the subconscious—which is really the whole point here—the ego keeps a firm grip on the reins regardless. That's why these things work in the game but won't translate to objective reality. It's that "reality of the virtual."

mistyscout2 said:Since that’s heading in a completely different direction—I mean, we aren't just shifting sub-forums here, we're pivoting to an entirely different subject matter—and because we're talking about societal trends rather than the individual, I think it’s best if I just set that aside for now. Besides, I don't really fall for those kinds of illusions myself; I've never looked at those airbrushed, "perfect" bodies you see in a Super Bowl commercial and actually thought they represented perfection.

It might not even be possible during the act itself, though I’d say there's a chance it happens then too—sort of like how someone from that other thread mentioned, where a "philosopher" might actually be visualizing the woman they're with while it's happening. But putting that aside for a moment, I honestly feel like he wouldn't even need a fantasy in that specific instant. I feel like Lacan and those who follow his school of thought lean way too heavily on this whole concept of "fantasy." Whether they're right about it or not, I can't quite say. And look, I know I'm rambling, but I really think their obsession with fantasy just pushes them away from other interesting ways of thinking. It seems like if they moved past it, things would get a little too intense for them, which is probably why they stick to it. If they actually looked elsewhere, they might stumble upon the real truth, but then all of philosophy and psychoanalysis would basically lose its purpose—they'd just get lost in pure love and that genuine sense of oneness with the person you're with.

It seems like a pretty straightforward concept to me. Once you actually possess something, the frantic "desire" for it—that constant mental loop of daydreaming about having it or craving it—just sortically evaporates. Now, don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean you can't fully enjoy what you have. In my book, "having" something is a much better way to put it than just "desiring" it; I’m leaning a bit toward those Eastern philosophies or even some Stoic principles there, focusing more on the reality of what *is* in the moment rather than the hunger for what isn't. To give a little example that I think works quite well: when I’m sitting there craving chocolate, I am definitely desiring it. But once I actually start eating that chocolate, the dynamic shifts. I essentially become one with the chocolate—metaphorically speaking, at least, though biologically it's quite literal. It becomes a part of me, and I am actively experiencing it. There’s really no reason left to pine for it when I can actually experience it so deeply. That chocolate becomes part of my physical being; it hits my taste buds, my palate, my tongue—it satisfies all my senses. It sends these signals to my brain, triggering a lovely little cascade of dopamine and all that wonderful neurobiology we know so well. Eventually, the chocolate is literally absorbed into my body, providing me with actual energy. You could still say I "desire" the chocolate in the sense that I am not rejecting it, but the restless longing is gone because I finally have the "real thing" right here in front of me.

Honestly, I don't think Lacan actually brought anything new to the table here.

It’s funny how often we fall into that trap where we spend all this energy convinced that we absolutely need something, only to finally get our hands on it and realize it wasn't actually what we were looking for at all. It’s like you chase this specific goal for months, thinking it’ll be this life-changing moment, but once it arrives, there's just this weird sense of emptiness because it turns out it wasn't "the one." That’s really the heart of the matter, isn't it? I’ve been spending quite a bit of time lately circling around the concept of the *objet petit a*, and honestly, it feels like one of those ideas that you think you’ve finally pinned down, only to have it slip right through your fingers the moment you try to grab it. It’s that elusive little thing—that tiny, nagging gap between what we actually have and the impossible perfection we feel is just out of reach. It isn't some tangible prize you can go out and buy at a Target or find on Amazon; it's more like the phantom itch of desire itself. You know that feeling when you’re scrolling through something online, thinking, "If I just had that one specific thing, everything would click," only to realize once it arrives that the satisfaction lasts about five seconds before your brain starts hunting for the next missing piece? That’s the essence of it. It’s the cause of our desire, rather than the object of it. We aren't really chasing the thing; we're chasing the feeling of wholeness that the thing promises but can never actually deliver. I was reading some stuff regarding Lacan the other day—and yes, I did spend way too long getting lost in those dense paragraphs—and it struck me how much this explains our modern obsession with constant consumption. We’re essentially running on a treadmill of longing, perpetually chasing a ghost that keeps moving just a step ahead of us. It’s a bit exhausting if you think about it too hard, which is probably why I usually prefer to just let these heavy thoughts simmer in the background while I focus on more practical things. But there's something strangely comforting about realizing that the "missing piece" might not even exist in the first place. It takes the pressure off, doesn't it?Honestly, I think that just points to a certain level of immaturity and lack of experience, probably driven by some kind of external manipulation. It’s like their desires aren't even their own; they're being steered by the people they're trying to keep up with—whether that's business partners, peers, or just their social circle. It's that classic idea of the desire of the Other, where you end up wanting exactly what someone else wants you to want. Or, you know, the mass media does the same thing, shaping our cravings so directly that we basically become puppets of what society tells us to crave. But, as I was saying before, this really only happens to people who haven't quite developed a solid enough sense of self or a structured personality. For someone who actually has a grounded identity, it doesn't really matter where the spark of that desire originally came from. What matters is that the desire stays consistent and feels authentically ours, rather than being this constantly shifting, fluid thing. In a way, that constant flux is exactly what fuels our capitalist system of mass consumption, because no matter what you buy, that specific object—that *objet petit a*—never actually turns out to be "the one."

I think this modern take on physicality fits the bill perfectly—it’s essentially just a sexual fantasy. You see it all the time in the way porn is shot, where the guy is barely even in the frame and the woman is front and center. There are exceptions, sure, but you can't deny that media and commercial interests shape how people fantasize globally. It’s that constant push toward an impossible ideal that drives us straight into the realm of pure imagination.

mistyscout2 said:Since that’s heading in a completely different direction—I mean, we aren't just shifting sub-forums here, we're pivoting to an entirely different subject matter—and because we're talking about societal trends rather than the individual, I think it’s best if I just set that aside for now. Besides, I don't really fall for those kinds of illusions myself; I've never looked at those airbrushed, "perfect" bodies you see in a Super Bowl commercial and actually thought they represented perfection.

It might not even be possible during the act itself, though I’d say there's a chance it happens then too—sort of like how someone from that other thread mentioned, where a "philosopher" might actually be visualizing the woman they're with while it's happening. But putting that aside for a moment, I honestly feel like he wouldn't even need a fantasy in that specific instant. I feel like Lacan and those who follow his school of thought lean way too heavily on this whole concept of "fantasy." Whether they're right about it or not, I can't quite say. And look, I know I'm rambling, but I really think their obsession with fantasy just pushes them away from other interesting ways of thinking. It seems like if they moved past it, things would get a little too intense for them, which is probably why they stick to it. If they actually looked elsewhere, they might stumble upon the real truth, but then all of philosophy and psychoanalysis would basically lose its purpose—they'd just get lost in pure love and that genuine sense of oneness with the person you're with.

It seems like a pretty straightforward concept to me. Once you actually possess something, the frantic "desire" for it—that constant mental loop of daydreaming about having it or craving it—just sortically evaporates. Now, don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean you can't fully enjoy what you have. In my book, "having" something is a much better way to put it than just "desiring" it; I’m leaning a bit toward those Eastern philosophies or even some Stoic principles there, focusing more on the reality of what *is* in the moment rather than the hunger for what isn't. To give a little example that I think works quite well: when I’m sitting there craving chocolate, I am definitely desiring it. But once I actually start eating that chocolate, the dynamic shifts. I essentially become one with the chocolate—metaphorically speaking, at least, though biologically it's quite literal. It becomes a part of me, and I am actively experiencing it. There’s really no reason left to pine for it when I can actually experience it so deeply. That chocolate becomes part of my physical being; it hits my taste buds, my palate, my tongue—it satisfies all my senses. It sends these signals to my brain, triggering a lovely little cascade of dopamine and all that wonderful neurobiology we know so well. Eventually, the chocolate is literally absorbed into my body, providing me with actual energy. You could still say I "desire" the chocolate in the sense that I am not rejecting it, but the restless longing is gone because I finally have the "real thing" right here in front of me.

Honestly, I don't think Lacan actually brought anything new to the table here.

It’s funny how often we fall into that trap where we spend all this energy convinced that we absolutely need something, only to finally get our hands on it and realize it wasn't actually what we were looking for at all. It’s like you chase this specific goal for months, thinking it’ll be this life-changing moment, but once it arrives, there's just this weird sense of emptiness because it turns out it wasn't "the one." That’s really the heart of the matter, isn't it? I’ve been spending quite a bit of time lately circling around the concept of the *objet petit a*, and honestly, it feels like one of those ideas that you think you’ve finally pinned down, only to have it slip right through your fingers the moment you try to grab it. It’s that elusive little thing—that tiny, nagging gap between what we actually have and the impossible perfection we feel is just out of reach. It isn't some tangible prize you can go out and buy at a Target or find on Amazon; it's more like the phantom itch of desire itself. You know that feeling when you’re scrolling through something online, thinking, "If I just had that one specific thing, everything would click," only to realize once it arrives that the satisfaction lasts about five seconds before your brain starts hunting for the next missing piece? That’s the essence of it. It’s the cause of our desire, rather than the object of it. We aren't really chasing the thing; we're chasing the feeling of wholeness that the thing promises but can never actually deliver. I was reading some stuff regarding Lacan the other day—and yes, I did spend way too long getting lost in those dense paragraphs—and it struck me how much this explains our modern obsession with constant consumption. We’re essentially running on a treadmill of longing, perpetually chasing a ghost that keeps moving just a step ahead of us. It’s a bit exhausting if you think about it too hard, which is probably why I usually prefer to just let these heavy thoughts simmer in the background while I focus on more practical things. But there's something strangely comforting about realizing that the "missing piece" might not even exist in the first place. It takes the pressure off, doesn't it?Honestly, I think that just points to a certain level of immaturity and lack of experience, probably driven by some kind of external manipulation. It’s like their desires aren't even their own; they're being steered by the people they're trying to keep up with—whether that's business partners, peers, or just their social circle. It's that classic idea of the desire of the Other, where you end up wanting exactly what someone else wants you to want. Or, you know, the mass media does the same thing, shaping our cravings so directly that we basically become puppets of what society tells us to crave. But, as I was saying before, this really only happens to people who haven't quite developed a solid enough sense of self or a structured personality. For someone who actually has a grounded identity, it doesn't really matter where the spark of that desire originally came from. What matters is that the desire stays consistent and feels authentically ours, rather than being this constantly shifting, fluid thing. In a way, that constant flux is exactly what fuels our capitalist system of mass consumption, because no matter what you buy, that specific object—that *objet petit a*—never actually turns out to be "the one."

I just caught up on this thread—the concept is interesting, sure—but if she’s just living up to some idealized version of herself, that isn't really her. It’s just an idea of her. I think that’s exactly how we end up with these warped notions of what love is actually supposed to look like. At what point can we even be certain we’re loving the actual person in a relationship rather than just a polished concept?

Fantasy is one of those concepts that keeps popping up in my research—it’s an interesting rabbit hole. It’s funny how the discussion naturally drifted toward the idea of love... I wonder how much of that is actually connected to the fantasy itself. I think I get where you're coming from with that second angle, though—I see your point.

mistyscout2 said:Since that’s heading in a completely different direction—I mean, we aren't just shifting sub-forums here, we're pivoting to an entirely different subject matter—and because we're talking about societal trends rather than the individual, I think it’s best if I just set that aside for now. Besides, I don't really fall for those kinds of illusions myself; I've never looked at those airbrushed, "perfect" bodies you see in a Super Bowl commercial and actually thought they represented perfection.

It might not even be possible during the act itself, though I’d say there's a chance it happens then too—sort of like how someone from that other thread mentioned, where a "philosopher" might actually be visualizing the woman they're with while it's happening. But putting that aside for a moment, I honestly feel like he wouldn't even need a fantasy in that specific instant. I feel like Lacan and those who follow his school of thought lean way too heavily on this whole concept of "fantasy." Whether they're right about it or not, I can't quite say. And look, I know I'm rambling, but I really think their obsession with fantasy just pushes them away from other interesting ways of thinking. It seems like if they moved past it, things would get a little too intense for them, which is probably why they stick to it. If they actually looked elsewhere, they might stumble upon the real truth, but then all of philosophy and psychoanalysis would basically lose its purpose—they'd just get lost in pure love and that genuine sense of oneness with the person you're with.

It seems like a pretty straightforward concept to me. Once you actually possess something, the frantic "desire" for it—that constant mental loop of daydreaming about having it or craving it—just sortically evaporates. Now, don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean you can't fully enjoy what you have. In my book, "having" something is a much better way to put it than just "desiring" it; I’m leaning a bit toward those Eastern philosophies or even some Stoic principles there, focusing more on the reality of what *is* in the moment rather than the hunger for what isn't. To give a little example that I think works quite well: when I’m sitting there craving chocolate, I am definitely desiring it. But once I actually start eating that chocolate, the dynamic shifts. I essentially become one with the chocolate—metaphorically speaking, at least, though biologically it's quite literal. It becomes a part of me, and I am actively experiencing it. There’s really no reason left to pine for it when I can actually experience it so deeply. That chocolate becomes part of my physical being; it hits my taste buds, my palate, my tongue—it satisfies all my senses. It sends these signals to my brain, triggering a lovely little cascade of dopamine and all that wonderful neurobiology we know so well. Eventually, the chocolate is literally absorbed into my body, providing me with actual energy. You could still say I "desire" the chocolate in the sense that I am not rejecting it, but the restless longing is gone because I finally have the "real thing" right here in front of me.

Honestly, I don't think Lacan actually brought anything new to the table here.

It’s funny how often we fall into that trap where we spend all this energy convinced that we absolutely need something, only to finally get our hands on it and realize it wasn't actually what we were looking for at all. It’s like you chase this specific goal for months, thinking it’ll be this life-changing moment, but once it arrives, there's just this weird sense of emptiness because it turns out it wasn't "the one." That’s really the heart of the matter, isn't it? I’ve been spending quite a bit of time lately circling around the concept of the *objet petit a*, and honestly, it feels like one of those ideas that you think you’ve finally pinned down, only to have it slip right through your fingers the moment you try to grab it. It’s that elusive little thing—that tiny, nagging gap between what we actually have and the impossible perfection we feel is just out of reach. It isn't some tangible prize you can go out and buy at a Target or find on Amazon; it's more like the phantom itch of desire itself. You know that feeling when you’re scrolling through something online, thinking, "If I just had that one specific thing, everything would click," only to realize once it arrives that the satisfaction lasts about five seconds before your brain starts hunting for the next missing piece? That’s the essence of it. It’s the cause of our desire, rather than the object of it. We aren't really chasing the thing; we're chasing the feeling of wholeness that the thing promises but can never actually deliver. I was reading some stuff regarding Lacan the other day—and yes, I did spend way too long getting lost in those dense paragraphs—and it struck me how much this explains our modern obsession with constant consumption. We’re essentially running on a treadmill of longing, perpetually chasing a ghost that keeps moving just a step ahead of us. It’s a bit exhausting if you think about it too hard, which is probably why I usually prefer to just let these heavy thoughts simmer in the background while I focus on more practical things. But there's something strangely comforting about realizing that the "missing piece" might not even exist in the first place. It takes the pressure off, doesn't it?Honestly, I think that just points to a certain level of immaturity and lack of experience, probably driven by some kind of external manipulation. It’s like their desires aren't even their own; they're being steered by the people they're trying to keep up with—whether that's business partners, peers, or just their social circle. It's that classic idea of the desire of the Other, where you end up wanting exactly what someone else wants you to want. Or, you know, the mass media does the same thing, shaping our cravings so directly that we basically become puppets of what society tells us to crave. But, as I was saying before, this really only happens to people who haven't quite developed a solid enough sense of self or a structured personality. For someone who actually has a grounded identity, it doesn't really matter where the spark of that desire originally came from. What matters is that the desire stays consistent and feels authentically ours, rather than being this constantly shifting, fluid thing. In a way, that constant flux is exactly what fuels our capitalist system of mass consumption, because no matter what you buy, that specific object—that *objet petit a*—never actually turns out to be "the one."

The whole thing shifts once you start eating that chocolate every single day. That "authentic" feeling—that magic—only exists the first time you bite into a Hershey’s bar and get hit by that initial rush of flavor and sensation. Your relationship actually begins at a storefront window where you first catch a glimpse of it, turning the candy into an object of pure craving. You and the chocolate become one; you're lost in this explosion of sensory input, forgetting every other food on the planet for a second. But after that initial rush, you develop this repetitive need to chase that exact same high. So, you force yourself to eat the same damn chocolate day after day, indefinitely. Eventually, the novelty dies. Your taste buds adapt to the point where what used to be a singular experience becomes nothing more than a mindless routine. Your perception of it changes. The bliss you felt while drowning in that sweetness—the very thing that drove your craving—gets swallowed up by the monotony. That's when the options open up. You might grab a Hershey’s bar while daydreaming about a white chocolate strawberry one, but more likely, your old favorite will just bore you to death. You won't even want to look at it, let alone taste it....

mistyscout2 said:Since that’s heading in a completely different direction—I mean, we aren't just shifting sub-forums here, we're pivoting to an entirely different subject matter—and because we're talking about societal trends rather than the individual, I think it’s best if I just set that aside for now. Besides, I don't really fall for those kinds of illusions myself; I've never looked at those airbrushed, "perfect" bodies you see in a Super Bowl commercial and actually thought they represented perfection.

It might not even be possible during the act itself, though I’d say there's a chance it happens then too—sort of like how someone from that other thread mentioned, where a "philosopher" might actually be visualizing the woman they're with while it's happening. But putting that aside for a moment, I honestly feel like he wouldn't even need a fantasy in that specific instant. I feel like Lacan and those who follow his school of thought lean way too heavily on this whole concept of "fantasy." Whether they're right about it or not, I can't quite say. And look, I know I'm rambling, but I really think their obsession with fantasy just pushes them away from other interesting ways of thinking. It seems like if they moved past it, things would get a little too intense for them, which is probably why they stick to it. If they actually looked elsewhere, they might stumble upon the real truth, but then all of philosophy and psychoanalysis would basically lose its purpose—they'd just get lost in pure love and that genuine sense of oneness with the person you're with.

It seems like a pretty straightforward concept to me. Once you actually possess something, the frantic "desire" for it—that constant mental loop of daydreaming about having it or craving it—just sortically evaporates. Now, don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean you can't fully enjoy what you have. In my book, "having" something is a much better way to put it than just "desiring" it; I’m leaning a bit toward those Eastern philosophies or even some Stoic principles there, focusing more on the reality of what *is* in the moment rather than the hunger for what isn't. To give a little example that I think works quite well: when I’m sitting there craving chocolate, I am definitely desiring it. But once I actually start eating that chocolate, the dynamic shifts. I essentially become one with the chocolate—metaphorically speaking, at least, though biologically it's quite literal. It becomes a part of me, and I am actively experiencing it. There’s really no reason left to pine for it when I can actually experience it so deeply. That chocolate becomes part of my physical being; it hits my taste buds, my palate, my tongue—it satisfies all my senses. It sends these signals to my brain, triggering a lovely little cascade of dopamine and all that wonderful neurobiology we know so well. Eventually, the chocolate is literally absorbed into my body, providing me with actual energy. You could still say I "desire" the chocolate in the sense that I am not rejecting it, but the restless longing is gone because I finally have the "real thing" right here in front of me.

Honestly, I don't think Lacan actually brought anything new to the table here.

It’s funny how often we fall into that trap where we spend all this energy convinced that we absolutely need something, only to finally get our hands on it and realize it wasn't actually what we were looking for at all. It’s like you chase this specific goal for months, thinking it’ll be this life-changing moment, but once it arrives, there's just this weird sense of emptiness because it turns out it wasn't "the one." That’s really the heart of the matter, isn't it? I’ve been spending quite a bit of time lately circling around the concept of the *objet petit a*, and honestly, it feels like one of those ideas that you think you’ve finally pinned down, only to have it slip right through your fingers the moment you try to grab it. It’s that elusive little thing—that tiny, nagging gap between what we actually have and the impossible perfection we feel is just out of reach. It isn't some tangible prize you can go out and buy at a Target or find on Amazon; it's more like the phantom itch of desire itself. You know that feeling when you’re scrolling through something online, thinking, "If I just had that one specific thing, everything would click," only to realize once it arrives that the satisfaction lasts about five seconds before your brain starts hunting for the next missing piece? That’s the essence of it. It’s the cause of our desire, rather than the object of it. We aren't really chasing the thing; we're chasing the feeling of wholeness that the thing promises but can never actually deliver. I was reading some stuff regarding Lacan the other day—and yes, I did spend way too long getting lost in those dense paragraphs—and it struck me how much this explains our modern obsession with constant consumption. We’re essentially running on a treadmill of longing, perpetually chasing a ghost that keeps moving just a step ahead of us. It’s a bit exhausting if you think about it too hard, which is probably why I usually prefer to just let these heavy thoughts simmer in the background while I focus on more practical things. But there's something strangely comforting about realizing that the "missing piece" might not even exist in the first place. It takes the pressure off, doesn't it?Honestly, I think that just points to a certain level of immaturity and lack of experience, probably driven by some kind of external manipulation. It’s like their desires aren't even their own; they're being steered by the people they're trying to keep up with—whether that's business partners, peers, or just their social circle. It's that classic idea of the desire of the Other, where you end up wanting exactly what someone else wants you to want. Or, you know, the mass media does the same thing, shaping our cravings so directly that we basically become puppets of what society tells us to crave. But, as I was saying before, this really only happens to people who haven't quite developed a solid enough sense of self or a structured personality. For someone who actually has a grounded identity, it doesn't really matter where the spark of that desire originally came from. What matters is that the desire stays consistent and feels authentically ours, rather than being this constantly shifting, fluid thing. In a way, that constant flux is exactly what fuels our capitalist system of mass consumption, because no matter what you buy, that specific object—that *objet petit a*—never actually turns out to be "the one."

I agree that desire is essentially the desire of the Other, but I'd argue our own desires are never entirely our own to begin with...

Brandon Wright54 said:I think this modern take on physicality fits the bill perfectly—it’s essentially just a sexual fantasy. You see it all the time in the way porn is shot, where the guy is barely even in the frame and the woman is front and center. There are exceptions, sure, but you can't deny that media and commercial interests shape how people fantasize globally. It’s that constant push toward an impossible ideal that drives us straight into the realm of pure imagination.

I just caught up on this thread—the concept is interesting, sure—but if she’s just living up to some idealized version of herself, that isn't really her. It’s just an idea of her. I think that’s exactly how we end up with these warped notions of what love is actually supposed to look like. At what point can we even be certain we’re loving the actual person in a relationship rather than just a polished concept?

Fantasy is one of those concepts that keeps popping up in my research—it’s an interesting rabbit hole. It’s funny how the discussion naturally drifted toward the idea of love... I wonder how much of that is actually connected to the fantasy itself. I think I get where you're coming from with that second angle, though—I see your point.

The whole thing shifts once you start eating that chocolate every single day. That "authentic" feeling—that magic—only exists the first time you bite into a Hershey’s bar and get hit by that initial rush of flavor and sensation. Your relationship actually begins at a storefront window where you first catch a glimpse of it, turning the candy into an object of pure craving. You and the chocolate become one; you're lost in this explosion of sensory input, forgetting every other food on the planet for a second. But after that initial rush, you develop this repetitive need to chase that exact same high. So, you force yourself to eat the same damn chocolate day after day, indefinitely. Eventually, the novelty dies. Your taste buds adapt to the point where what used to be a singular experience becomes nothing more than a mindless routine. Your perception of it changes. The bliss you felt while drowning in that sweetness—the very thing that drove your craving—gets swallowed up by the monotony. That's when the options open up. You might grab a Hershey’s bar while daydreaming about a white chocolate strawberry one, but more likely, your old favorite will just bore you to death. You won't even want to look at it, let alone taste it....

I agree that desire is essentially the desire of the Other, but I'd argue our own desires are never entirely our own to begin with...

Autodesk, I completely agree that it fits the specific topic of this thread perfectly, which is exactly why I made that distinction between the broad subject and the specific discussion here 🙂. As for the actual subject we are currently diving into (given the slow pace of forum discussions, haha), then no, not really. Since you're talking to, well, let me be humbly modest for a second... I'm just sharing my own philosophical views right now. But anyway, let me get back to answering the rest of your points.