How to Become Asexual

J. K. Giih

During the recent years it has become more and more fashionable to change one’s sex, most commonly to a lesbian female. I, who was born a virgin boy and for the longest time thought I would remain one for the rest of my life, have also been frequently pressured by the Jewish media to change my sex ever since they made homosexual fiction legal on the television, but it was not until I found out about asexuality that I finally decided to go through with the process and become an asexual.

Some may wonder why, in a time and age where the ample influx of new and exciting sexes shows no signs of abating, I picked myself one of the arguably least popular ones. Indeed for many it would be as tempting to become an asexual as it would be to move to a small cabin in the middle of the woods and live by hunting and fishing, and this would be a particularly apt comparison since the essence of asexuality is nothing more or less than self-sufficiency. As such it is hardly surprising that asexuality is as foreign to the majority of modern humans as the fundamentals of life itself, and as a simple primitive lifestyle has often proven to be the key to the palace of happiness, so would asexuality seem to be a similar treasure in the field of sex, an ideal pursued by the few and attained by even fewer. In this article I will relate my personal journey from a sexual to an asexual and present a few helpful ideas for those taking their first steps on this noble path.

I remember vividly how my sexuality began. I was at my high school library reading the collected stories of Franz Kafka when a girl from my class sat down on the opposite side of the table and asked me to play chess with her. To the reader this sudden turn of events may seem like a plot device from a story of erotic fiction, but at the time it felt fairly natural since there happened to be a chess set on the table and the girl had seen me play with my friends and myself before. She told me she knew the basic rules but hadn’t played since she was a little girl. I bet I could teach her a thing or two, I thought, laying my book aside and beginning to arrange the pieces.

In the early stages of the game it turned out she didn’t know how to castle. More specifically, she didn’t know about the rule of not being allowed to do it if you’ve already moved either the king or the tower. I had to teach her all about castling, and although I tried my best she just didn’t seem to get it. Perhaps I should have been more firm with her, but I didn’t want to treat her like an idiot because she was a nice girl and very attractive with her blue eyes and delicate white fingers. In the end she never did learn how to castle properly and would probably make the same embarrassing mistakes in further matches. Quite frankly I had destroyed this poor girl’s life. This was when I knew I didn’t have what it takes to properly interact with females. I decided to give up on relationships and maybe one day rape someone or save up for a prostitute.

It was not until my university days that I read the Finnish artist Kalervo Palsa’s graphic novel Eläkeläinen muistelee, a »grey comedy» about the ventures of a necrophiliac. This to me was an eye-opening experience. It hadn’t ever occurred to me before that corpses make the perfect lovers: they don’t require your constant attention, they don’t fight back when you examine their orifices, and most importantly they don’t judge you when you fail to teach them chess. I decided that if I were ever to have a sexual relationship with anyone, it would have to be with a corpse.

I don’t doubt that many in my position would have gone straight to the cemetery, dug up one of the latest inhabitants and carried out an act of lust right on the spot. I, however, being a man of a timid nature, was worried about being caught and possibly incarcerated. Once again I felt defeated. I could not approach a live female and I could not approach a dead one.

That year was an excruciatingly unproductive time for me. I didn’t finish a novel, I didn’t graduate, I didn’t build a small cabin in the middle of the woods and plant opium poppies all around it. All I did was drink beer, play video games and immanentize the eschaton. Suddenly, while looking for ASMR videos to masturbate to, I came across the channel of a smart Finnish girl whose name began with the letter ‘V’, who talked about overpopulation, fur farming and how it feels like to be an asexual. Curiously it had never occurred to me that something like asexuality might even be an option. After all, I had read that even Orthodox monks engage in occasional sodomy in the sauna, and I myself masturbated fairly regularly to relieve constipation. Thankfully, following a brief crisis of faith, I decided to say goodbye to my noxious habits and begin to eat more fiber instead. Ever since that moment I have eaten a bowl of tropical muesli and drunk two mugs of coffee every morning and have never once regretted my decision. This is how I become asexual.