Finding the Erotic at LIDL: Georges Bataille and the Natural World
I often have this one particular thought and it usually occurs to me in the checkout of the Lidl around the corner from my office, and the thought kind of goes something like: these fellow shoppers, placing on the checkout conveyer belt all their canned goods, detergent, toilet paper and so on, bright and shiny in plastics and packaging, what are their sex lives made of, how do their bodies appear naked, fornicating, rubbing on top of another body and in turn being rubbed? And this thought leads on to another, somehow logically connected question: what do their bodies smell like, the crevices, the rolls of flesh out of sight thanks to their stone-washed denims, their ersatz tracksuits?
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