Via bookofjoe, the humorous “Philosophy of Kissing” from Dr. Rude of The Unnatural Enquirer
Aristotelian kiss: a kiss performed using techniques gained solely from theoretical speculation untainted by any experiential data, by one who feels that the latter is irrelevant anyway.
Gödelian kiss: a kiss that takes an extraordinarily long time, yet leaves you unable to decide whether you’ve been kissed or not.
Grouchoic kiss: a kiss given by someone who will only kiss those who would not kiss him or her.
Technically I think a Gödelian kiss would be one where you couldn’t consistently maintain the falsity of the statement “a kiss is just a kiss” in any system that includes arithmetical expressions. But that’s close enough.
Actually I’d add
Freudian Kiss: Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss.
If the Dr. Rude’s post is funny, Kizz of The Women’s Colony Bedroom blog is sweet when she discusses five of her most memorable kisses (where “memorable” sometimes means joyous, sometimes means first, and other times means sad or incomplete.)
My first French kiss. In the outdoor entryway of the small town’s public library. Raining out. With a geek. Nice enough guy but one of the sort whose nerdiness trends toward arrogance. It was chilly. My nose was running but I was embarrassed to wipe it. It was awful. He pumped his tongue in and out in a way that brought oil derricks to mind. Rhythmic, intrusive, completely devoid of emotion.
My first kiss was also my first French kiss was also one of the nicest kisses I’ve ever, ever had. It was at a pre-Christmas party for some kids from my high school, or maybe even Jr. High. Someone’s cousin was visiting from out of town. There was mistletoe. I’m not at all sure how we got to that point — I think maybe others had been doing it — but she asked if I was going to kiss her (no way I’d have thought to do it myself) and so I did. I remember her thick wool sweater, and her upturned face, and I think I remember that she was standing on the first step on a flight of stairs or something because I remember I was quite a bit taller than she, and oh my do I remember that kiss! Our lips just perfectly fit together, and parted naturally. Our tongues met softly and delicately swirled and lingered a moment longer before we stopped. She exhaled. I did too. That was it. We hung out a bit before the party ended. I returned to my home, she returned to her hometown, and we never saw each other again.
It was several years before I had a chance to kiss anyone else.
How ‘bout yours?
Submitted by 3207 (not verified) on Fri, 2009-09-18 14:19.
My first French kiss was terrible; my partner was of the "ram your tongue as far into your partner's mouth as possible" school of kissing. He must have been an Aristotelian. I did not feel motivated to try kissing again for three years (even Platonic kisses). My next kiss was a McTaggart kind of kiss; it made time seem unreal, and simultaneously fascinated and confused me.
But if we're on to kisses inspired famous bad arguments, my favorite has to be the Anselmian kiss; I cannot think of a better kiss. The Berkeleyian kiss is also something to behold. The trouble with a Berkeleyian kiss, though, is that it's impossible to do it without someone noticing. Then there's the Diodorus Cronus kiss, which can only be put down to fate.
Submitted by 3207 (not verified) on Fri, 2009-09-18 16:29.
The Kantian kiss: Always done in such a way that one could wish that all kissers would kiss in a similar way
The Scientific Method kiss: the results must be repeatable!
The Socratic kiss: the interchange of the kiss is structured in such a way that it leads to the kisser's desired outcome
The Platonic kiss: a mere shadow of the Ideal Kiss
...
That game is fun!
Romantic kisses, alas, have been few and far between in my life - I might struggle to remember 5 of them!
Submitted by 3207 (not verified) on Fri, 2009-09-18 17:12.
My first kiss was unexpected. We were on a yellow school bus on our way back to my high school from a community service event. The boy, Al, attended our "brother school". He and I met at the event, talked, and had a nice time. When we pulled into the school parking lot. I stood to leave and (I thought) give a hug good-bye when he pulled me in and kissed me (in front of everyone). It wasn't a passionate kiss, or a french kiss, but I was fifteen (or sixteen) and it was such a fun, spontaneous moment. We spoke once on the phone afterward, but I never had a chance to see him again.
Thanks for bringing back the memory. :)
Submitted by 3207 (not verified) on Fri, 2009-09-18 19:34.
My first kiss was, like the first commenter's, of the overly enthusiastic Frenching variety. He paused and asked me "Well, what do you think of THAT?" and I said "I think I'm going to be sick..." and then leaned out the car window and vomited an incredibly huge puddle that seemed to engulf the entire adjoining parking space, then had to have him stop two or three times more on the way home and let me puke some more. This, combined with rebellion at my father's constant harping that I needed to marry young in order to provide him with grandchildren, caused me to spend the next five years( I was then about 15 or so) believing myself to be a true asexual( in fact I actually have an unusually *high* sex drive when it's left to itself). ( Oh, and I wasn't drunk or anything, but I have always had a very delicate stomach)
Also, given the content of what I just wrote, there is something vaguely amusing about the Captcha reading "Chunks, pro"!
Submitted by 3207 (not verified) on Sat, 2009-09-19 08:24.
My first kiss was at a bookstore, with a sweet dark-haired nerdy guy I met when we both grabbed for the Philosophy of Monty Python book. He was eighteen, I was fifteen. I don't remember his name and I never saw him again.
I will always remember the tone of his voice when he said I was a really good kisser.
Submitted by 3207 (not verified) on Sun, 2009-09-20 09:01.
My first kiss was an extremely sloppy attempted make-out, and it was on my roommate's bed while she was out, which I still feel kinda bad about.
It was also somewhat after my first couple of handjobs, which I definitely feel bad about.
But there's no super magical significance to the first time you do something; I'd rather remember the best kisses I've had. Like when I was with Tommy and we were stuck outdoors during a violent thunderstorm. I was scared of the storm and he held me and kissed me in the pouring rain, wonderfully warm and tender.
Submitted by 3207 (not verified) on Fri, 2009-10-02 13:09.
Somehow I remember the best kiss I've ever had better than my first.
My first was quick and initiated by me since he seemed like he wasn't going to do anything. And I think it was one of the few that wasn't frenchkisses in that relationship. Those reminded me more of a battle than anything else and I slowly came to loathe frenchkisses.
The best... now, that was a guy I meet, well, actually one of my school friends meet him and then sorta dumped him on me(we were 'in town'). But he turned out to be a great kisser. I should have gotten his number. ;) Heck, I even remember his name and for me thats highly unusual.