Realms of speculation-and-fantasising – well, after all, this is “Time for a Coffee Break”. I’ve mused now and again, re hosting, about the British journalist / author / pundit / television personality Malcolm Muggeridge (1903 – 1990). In this guy’s later years, he came to take extremely conservative positions over many things – including becoming a devout Christian, and latching very extremely onto Christianity’s often negative “take” on human sexuality. Muggeridge got the idea that sex was unpleasing to God / disgusting / frivolous / foolish – regrettably necessary for the purpose of procreation, but otherwise, utterly beyond the pale – he found the idea even of married couples having sex with each other for fun, revolting. Which notions he loudly trumpeted via the medium of television.
Except for this extreme bee in his bonnet, I gather that Muggeridge was a kindly and engaging fellow, and very interesting company – he’d led a fascinating life. Find self wondering about Muggeridge’s later years, when he and his wife (presumably they had mutually renounced sexual relations) lived in a pleasantly rural setting in the county of Kent, not far from London. Imagine him inviting friends to stay there, for the weekend or longer – with the caveat “there is to be no sexual activity under my roof – and your being married to each other, has nothing to do with that. You’ll be lodged in separate rooms.” Speculation going on from that – couples creeping from room to room in the middle of the night – if Malcolm got any hint of that, he’d usher them out of the door first thing in the morning, sending them home, and ending the friendship. Married couples invited to stay with the Muggeridges, but demurring about the sex ban, and suggesting that they stay in a hotel in the neighbourhood, and get together with the M’s in the daytime – hearing from Malcolm, “filthy volupturaries, putting fornicating with each other, above my invitation to stay: invitation cancelled” – and thenceforth, Muggeridge demoting them from friends, to cold acquaintances.
I’m quite likely maligning here, the poor old guy, who’s no longer around to defend himself; but in the late 20th century, he earned himself a name in Britain, as “Mr. fanatically-anti-sex”. As often – “monsters” in the public eye, are often much nicer “in their private and personal capacity” – but re Mr. M. and this particular issue, one wonders.