The dropped g is kind of racy. Frans is the main one. Sometimes . . . frannies. Frans, nans, and Kleins. In Vox, however, the Derridean tenet gets caught in history and is repeated with a difference.
Masturbation is no longer that which exasperates the security of the real.
As a result, Vox remains a speculative love song for yuppies looking for another safe high while lounging in their secluded apartments. Although Baker has an intuitive grasp of the importance of sexuality, his interest in sex is less layered. Rather than examine the multiple pleasures and contradictions that are heir to all flesh, Baker only wants to make sex fun again. The only annoyance of the intrusive reality in Vox is the mention of a yeast infection. You are short or tall, etc., you want me to see pleasure transform your features.