By Séamus Smyth

The leaked sex tape has been the go-to maneuver for attention-deprived, unimaginative, C-list celebrities for the better part of the decade.  The faux “oops-a-daisy” has altered the careers, remarkably for the better, of Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian and Pamela Anderson, just to name a few of the more notable birthday-suit montages.

These ostentatious, painfully obvious pleas for the fogged up limelight somehow are not ostracized or considered perverted by the general public.  They are instead glorified by mainstream society time and time again. Why so?

It points to our generation’s feverish obsession with celebrity proximity.  To witness Paris Hilton pouncing around naked on a queen-sized bed that looks remarkably like yours, oddly generates a feeling of “That could soo be me.”

For every release of a reality star’s sex-capades to be found online, there are triple the number of John and Jane Doe’s bargain hunting for their very own video equipment system to hopefully capture their own orgasmic pleasures.

The fact that spoiled, stupidly-rich celebrities moan and groan more or less the exact same way as two SAIT students are capable of, somehow endorses a sense of common ground between audience and participant (s). While full-length movies usually illustrate sex scenes as flawless, perfectly-executed ordeals, sex tapes manage to capture the pointless banter, the awkward hustling between different positions and even the smacking of the lips that depending on your situation, you are all too familiar or unfamiliar with.

Although it’s safe to say that Paris Hilton was completely unaware of capturing these elements that accompany a typical roll in the hay, it gave birth to dozens of aspiring Jenna Jamesons across the continent.

From books that depict how to have intercourse like a porn star, to a student’s ability to listen to their singer’s favourite song while simultaneously watching them bent over a leather couch, sex is less a sacred practice and more like everyone’s favourite sport to hopefully partake in.

As pitching a tent substitutes for pitching a baseball and going deep is no longer just a reference to football, celebrity sex-tapes are the monthly tournaments that fans watch with undivided attention and then hope to emulate one day.

Sex tapes will continue to sprout as long as society’s unhealthy worship of celebrity status and openness to mindless (or mind-blowing) sex remains intact.

If we as society truly desire an end to the sex-tape fiasco, it’d be wise to refrain from hitting record on our own devices and maybe, just maybe, keep our sex lives within the privacy of our own walls.