These People Tried To Marry The Ocean


It’s a beautiful thing. Or at least I think so. Last week, I got married in a courthouse and carried my lawfully-wedded wife through a human tunnel created by our shouting friends while a bunch of people paying property taxes looked on, bewildered. Then I got drunk and lost my wallet. I’m very charming.

But if my wedding was weird, then this one is freaky. A group of ecosexuals hurling their hearts at the ocean in LA. Never seen anything like it. And I’m not sure how to feel about it.

On one hand, this video has around 30,000 views on YouTube so I guess they raised awareness about…something? On that same hand, but on a different finger, an incoherent beach parade probably isn’t the best way to convince people (specifically the ones that need convincing) that we shouldn’t fuck and frack the ocean to hell. I know they say that no publicity is bad publicity but they are dead now because they said it a century ago. That way of thinking probably worked in the newspaper days — but does it hold true now that everybody carries a device in their pocket that enables you to critique (yell at) strangers whenever you’re bored/angry/tangled up in the tedious throes of existence? I’m not so sure.

And on the other hand, what does this marriage even mean? I vowed to have and to hold my woman for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, for a term that lasts until death. These people don’t even look like they can swim. How are they supposed to live up to their promises? And why would they want to? I love the ocean more than most, but I’ve never considered marrying it — not even after my first barrel. That was a sex joke. Did you get it?

Still, at the end of the day, I guess I’m going to have to back it — under the condition that they uphold their vows. When it’s flat and rainy and the ocean is filled with human sludge, you better pop your dick out of that Nalgene bottle and get down to the beach to have and to hold. That’s marriage, baby.

Now, has anybody seen my wallet? —Brendan Buckley