Before the invention of the birth-control pill, marriage was a predictable affair: A man would marry a woman and she would give birth to children until it killed her; then, the man would find another woman and the cycle would continue. Most second marriages were a race between the woman dying from childbirth and the man dying from the wife poisoning him with arsenic. And, you wonder why no one smiled in old photographs. This paradigm was the primary reason that non-sexual love was elevated above the baser, sweatier kind of love.
If you really loved your wife, you’d impregnate her twice and then, never touch her again. A lot of men wrote about his kind of love and most had the good taste not to mention the prostitute they were seeing on the other side of town. When birth control was legalized, EVERYONE was thrown for a loss. Suddenly, there was no reason NOT to have sex with your wife, if you ignored the fact that the two of you hated one another. And, just as suddenly, a man cheating on his wife with a cheap, disease-ridden whore was a bad thing. Society was turned upside down causing many people’s hats to fall off.
The country became a sexual free-for-all; and, because hygiene and grooming, in the sixties, hadn’t changed appreciably since the invention of fire, any mental image you get of this period will scar you in ways ethnic cleansing only hints at. The average man was as hairy as an Italian Yeti and the average woman was hairier than the average man. There are porn films from this era, but they are being systematically destroyed to avoid traumatizing the next generation.
Currently, people are comfortable with the concept of free sex and sexual love. Girls take their birth control and both genders shave off their body hair to avoid looking like adults. I’d mention the Law of Unintended Consequences, but the guy who created that law was indirectly killed by it, oddly enough…