It might be a good segue to this post I wrote a while back but couldn't figure out when or where to post.
This post features a topic matter of a mature nature, and contains (sort of) adult language.
If last week’s discussion made you blush, or you know you’re not supposed to be reading this, you might want to skip this one.
Of course if you like a little sex with your science, read on.
It reminded me of an experiment I conducted years ago where I convinced some friends to participate in an experiment that we came (no pun) to call “Pavlov’s Dirty Dogs.”
- Can the bell be replaced with a specific piece of music?
- Can the salivation be replaced with, uh, as the French say, le petit morte. Hm. "Little death." That's a pretty good expression for it.
- We only tested females
- Age range was limited to 18-24
- It had to be a solo act.
- All results were self reported so we have no way of knowing if anyone was enjoying “alone time” more than three times a week. Did they miss a session? Were they truly always alone, or did they receive any assistance or, uh, encouragement?
- If you are self stimulating on a schedule in the name of science, it’s possible you just aren’t in the mood and this could affect the outcome (Hahahaha. Oh, the puns, the puns.)
- Since since students can be busy, and not have time to get in three sessions a week, might someone opt to knock three out in one night?
Our experiment lasted 60 days with one check in at the half way point.
- One admitted feeling “tingly”
- One would hear buzzing in her ears, but indicated no signs of calf pain (vibrator users are laughing right about now)
- Five reported experiencing a lift in mood, smiling or bursting into giggles whenever their song would play.
- Two reported wishing they had picked a different song.
- One claimed to have occasionally smelled lubricant whenever her chosen song played.
- One finally figured out the most popular hands-free method
- Three were determined to keep trying until they could make it happen.
In conclusion, we were unable to fully duplicate the Pavlov experiment's results. Consider this not a failure, but the discovery of one more reason you shouldn't call a woman a b!tch.
Seriously, this song was stuck in my head. It was only during editing that I realized the irony.
Grace Jones – Slave to the Rhythm
And if it does work, does it work forever?
And is the body responding to the music, or is the music a catalyst for the memory of a spectacular event?
Stereolab - The Flower Called Nowhere