6/28/2007 Desertion

6/28/2007 Desertion

Had trouble at work. I needed to bring my car in again. The guy at the shop says it's gonna take a few hours to fix. I can't justify waiting for that one, so I had to ask someone at work for a ride. I was very nervous about it. I never speak to these guys, and here I am asking them for shit.

Anyway, I asked one guy and he said he has a doctor's appt. Then I asked another guy and he said ok. I am still nervous that he won't show or that the shop will call me at work at like 8:00PM and say they can't fix it until tomorrow. But that's all negative thinking.

Later, now. The guy who promised me a ride didn't show. Just what I was afraid of. I am better off taking a cab. He came back later and gave me a ride to pick the car up, though.

My mind continues to clear. I feel good for the first time in a long time. I am not tired and not dizzy. The ringing in my ears is gone. I don't get it. But I need to do good things with this. It may not last long. Is it possible to have a tumor, then not have a tumor?

I feel creative...

6/27/2007 Rape And Orgasm

6/27/2007 Rape And Orgasm

After reading on the issue, I have to say no one really understands rape or why we do it. But I'll say this: Rape fantasies are common among both men and women.

That says something right there, that women, who are often terrified of being raped and equate it with torture or murder, fantasize about being raped. Why would that be? The popular answer is that it takes responsibility away. They can submit without being “slutty”. But if this is true, than why does the same dynamic not apply to real-life rape? We mostly, (in this society, anyway), agree that women are not responsible for controlling the actions of men. Apart from the ignorance of a court that acquitted four gang rapists because the victim wasn't wearing any underwear, most of us do not hold a rape victim responsible for being raped. Yet, women who are raped often feel responsible for the rape, and experience significant feelings of distress. So why fantasize about it?

Controversy

I have had many people tell me that if a woman orgasms during rape, that means it's not rape. Two of these people were women. Ignorance about rape abounds and I will go into that later. Lack of understanding of the issue does not prohibit people from having strong opinions, and this causes me to believe that any expose on my part is both pointless and banal.

But suffice to say that if the women orgasms during the rape, that doesn't mean it's not rape. In fact, the emotional distress that victims feel has an inverse ratio to the amount of violence the victim incurred. What I am saying is that when a women is badly beaten during a rape, she is tends to feel less distress than otherwise. Furthermore, studies indicate that women who orgasm during rape then have more trouble dealing with the rape than others. This indicates to me that women see rape itself, more so than physical pain or loss of control, as being the real transgression. Evolutionary Psychologists theorize that this may be because a man never really can know if his mates' offspring belongs to him. That explains the brutal attitudes that societies of the past had towards rape victims and perhaps the instinctive reaction that women have that being raped reduces their “value” as a mate. I will further address Evolutionary Psychologies' view of rape later. For now...

The Rape Orgasm

Most of us realize it happens, but there is some confusion as to why. The idea of females being submissive by nature has it's roots in the middle ages, with the Christian thought of the time. Subsequently, the view got some affirmation by scientific studies. For a lot of people, the act of being raped is the ultimate act of submission. And men are supposed to be aggressive, dominant. The act of raping, therefore, must be the ultimate in masculine behavior. So it makes sense, right? By raping a women, the man proves his own sexual worth. By giving in, the women proves hers. The women may be troubled by the loss of her autonomy, but she cannot deny that she is in the ultimate sexual situation. She cannot help but be aroused by such a manly act, and while she may later regret it, for now she submits to the overwhelming pleasure. All that is crap, of course, but that is likely the mental framework of rape fantasy in many of our minds.

In one study, upon being shown visual depictions of rape situations, a minority of males and females said that they found the depictions to be erotic. But when the female was shown to have an orgasm, a majority of men and women said they found it erotic. The orgasm means everything. Indeed, I myself have scoured the Internet to find videos featuring rape resulting in orgasm. Unfortunately, most of the videos I find do not contain female orgasms. Could be an untapped market. Many may rationalize by saying that people figure it was really consensual if the women orgasms. But there is no way around this: people want to see a women raped and have an orgasm from being raped. Only guilt stops us from doing more about this.

So do women really orgasm during rape? There is much secrecy surrounding rape, it seldom happens in view of the public. Victims are afraid to talk. So the question is, is all of that male-female role-playing that leads us to fantasize coming into play during the rape? How many victims orgasm during rape? I try not to site too many sources, so this doesn't become some scholarly dullfest. But this one I feel necessary. From the book, “A Natural History Of Rape”, by Thornhill and Palmer:

“ Human rape victims rarely show much sexual arousal and almost never achieve orgasm.”

Pretty simple. Sorry fantasizer. But wait...

Not Exactly John Edward's Two Americas

Much information is gleaned on the act of rape from studying convicted criminals. But what of the rapists who benefit from the secrecy caused by the shame of rape? How to discover their motives?

“A Natural History Of Rape” gives an account of men's own reports of rapes. The questions were asked as part of a study of sexual habits of a certain type of man. It has been discovered that female orgasm during intercourse is tied in to the body symmetry of their mate. So one study found that men who report histories of high numbers of sexual partners also report high instances of rape. There is a correlation between men having the body symmetry I mentioned and abusive behavior towards women, and also lack of committed relationships. Despite the previous statement that rape victims rarely display signs of arousal during rape, these men give accounts of rape that include, “significant amounts of female arousal, including orgasm.” So it is possible that many of the rapes that include orgasms are not reported and furthermore are being perpetrated by the same small percentage of men.

This, to me, explains why women would fantasize about rape. Most female rape fantasies in romance novels and such involve “manly men”, no doubt conjuring images of these symmetrical men. Evidence I have mentioned in previous posts indicate that women often “flag” such men for short term relationships, so the rape aspect does take away some responsibility and it is likely that keeping such a rape a secret reduces the pain of it to a degree.

I would think that though many rape victims are quite old, rape is, in a way, an attempt at social climbing in terms of genetics for both men and women.

So I wonder, what are we really fantasizing about? I mean, I am absent, even today, from most of my own rape fantasies. Add to that the theory that we all have memories of our entire lives locked away in our minds. In fact, the theory goes, that we all have our own memories plus the memories of our ancestors locked away in our heads. If that is true, then we all have memories of a time when rape was common. In situations of warfare, rape was often encouraged and sanctioned. In some pagan rituals, rape was rampant. When I fantasize about rape, is it my own I am fantasizing about? Or a distant past I cannot recall?

Furthermore, how does the genetics of the rapist effect all of this? I mean, suppose that we are in a war situation. Ten soldiers go up to a hut in which five women or girls live. The ten soldiers then take turns raping the females. Supposing that every soldier completes the rape of every one of the women once, and that all five females become pregnant as a result of the rape. I would propose that four of the five women would have become pregnant by one of the ten soldiers, the most fertile. I would also guess that this one soldier was one of the men who had the body symmetry that women prefer. So it follows that while nine of the ten men will rape the women without causing anything but pain, the one man may be able to bring about arousal and orgasm. It could be this situation that arouses me. Because women are not sexually attracted to most men, it may follow that in the past this would be an opportunity for reproduction. The female's orgasm would be particularly arousing because it would signal her arousal, which I could not have brought about myself in such a situation but would be unlikely to go away were I to “follow up” the symmetrical guy.

I would mention also that the Evolutionary Psychological idea of rape is that men will see it as a betrayal because it keeps them from knowing if the offspring they invest in is their own. But when I fantasize about rape, or read a story about rape written by a female who appears to be relating a real life (or close to real life) story, I do not feel anger or betrayal at all. In fact, it's the opposite. What I feel for that women goes beyond mere sympathy. I feel like she is more beautiful. I feel like she is more of a women. And I feel like having sex with her would be an amazing experience, and i feel all sorts of affection and desire come out of me; and I even feel feelings of commitment. I feel like her value to me is higher for having orgasmed during rape, not the opposite. And prior to my own fantasy, I never have seen a movie or heard anything that indicated that a women would orgasm during rape. I had little or no encouragement to rape.

Two Americas. One set of males that females come for, one that females don't. Funny, the same God who brought us the concept of universal justice and gave us a sense of having all the same expectations also badly favored some of us over others when he made us.

Clearing Up A Few Misconceptions

When it comes to rape, the subject is so explosive and profound that we tend to believe whatever we can live with. So much of this is pointless to say, but here it is.

There are three levels of misconceptions about rape.

1. Level one is embodied by a study that came out a decade or so ago. They asked a bunch of 14 year old boys if a man had a right to rape a women after buying her dinner. 40% said yes. Level one is stupidity. First, boys don't get how painful rape is to women. And it's not something you can figure out logically. I mean, if you rape your soul-mate, wouldn't she not be your soul-mate anymore? If love is cosmic and mysterious, and women have intuitive access to it by things like kissing and sex, then doesn't that mean if you rape your soul-mate then she'll realize she's your soul-mate? What I'm saying is that justification for rape is more written into the way we see things then we know. A lot of these misconceptions come from simple logic.

2. Level Two is explained by the statement: Rape is not sex. Level two is politics. Just like men are not born with an understanding of the way female victims feel about being raped, feminists are the last people who know the motives of a rapist. And to say that men who rape are not motivated by sex is clearly politically motivated. Given that so many of us fantasize about rape, no one gives in to the temptation? All rapists have political agendas against you? 1/3 of men say that they would engage in rape if they were assured of not getting caught. Case closed.

   Some other misconceptions that spring from this; animals never rape each other. Wrong. All rapists are crazy and like to rape but don't like consensual sex. Wrong again. Most rape victims are above or below reproductive age. Wrong.

   Don't think that feminists are the only ones in this category. There are men's groups out there saying that rape does not exist. They believe that since a women's legs are stronger than a man's arms, this means in all rapes, the women have consented. The fallacy of such an argument is too apparent for me to address it here.

3. Level three is the searching for explanations stage. But in the end, we have yet to get past this one explanation: men want sex. And if men can't get what they want, they often take it.

Evolutionary Psychology

A few observations about their view of this subject. First of all, if it's logical that if men compete for the attentions of women in every aspect of society, then men are evolving faster than women. This would not apply to intelligence, as women probably have to evolve to be able to outsmart men, who are physically stronger. But it may apply to rape.

The book, “A Natural History Of Rape” sites statistics from the war in Rwanda, where rapes were widespread. The numbers indicated that one third of women who were raped became pregnant from the rapes. That's compared to one in nine copulations that result in pregnancy the acceptable way. That's hard to accept, but it seems that whatever evolutionary adaptations by women to avoid rape have been surpassed by men. It might also be that most of that 33% was by a very small percentage of the rapists.

No Conclusions

That's all. I am still not sure why these rape fantasies are so powerful for me, but I am past feeling bad about it. I would never rape someone because I am sure I'd get caught. Also, if I were to rape someone it would be about making her cum, and I doubt I am the symmetrical man. I may be able to accomplish it through other means, but it wouldn't pleasurable.

Rape remains the ultimate expression of our sexuality, and we'll keep fantasizing about it and arguing over the real thing. But there are those of us that do not have such traditional conceptions of their sexuality. My next dissertation will be about subversive relationships.

6/27/2007 Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck

6/27/2007 Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck

My head is strangely clear now, which is as confusing as anything. People seem to be treating me differently and I don't know why. I am gaining weight again. I am not binging at all or really overeating at all, but I am still gaining weight like a fiend. Whatever, I'm past getting pissed about it.

Yesterday, to try to get past the mental corner into which I have painted myself, I picked up my book of Zen. I always have liked Zen, and I think undertaking a meditation practice will help with my diet and help me to enjoy myself in a way that doesn't destroy me. The thing is, in order to lose weight, I have to eat significantly less than a moderate diet. But we'll see.

I really can't figure this out, I am thinking very clearly. I don't know how long it will last but I feel kinda normal and I think that sucks.

6/26/2007 Older Siblings Smarter It's Proven

6/26/2007 Older Siblings Smarter It's Proven

There was a study done by Norwegian scientists that indicate that the older sibling in a family has a higher IQ on average than their younger siblings. The difference was only 2 IQ points, but this study has caused controversy anyway.

The problem is not just squabbling over methods but interpretation. How such a fact, if accepted, will help anyone I don't know. But the study seems to convince some that the conflict over whether or not birth order plays any role in intelligence at all is settled.

Being first born in my family, I must say that I think their interpretations are all wrong. The article quotes a professor of psychology saying that the first child acquires this high IQ by imitating the parents. How do they figure that one? Does the child acquire their intelligence by going to work at a job he hates and then falling asleep in front of the TV? No, you don't get smarter by imitating your parents. In our family, while I was certainly invested with the need to bond with parents as any child is, I quickly learned to stay away from my parents as much as possible. If I have a higher IQ than my siblings, I'll tell you why it is.

Because first born have to fend for themselves. Many children are accidents, and in many cases their parents are not ready to be parents. Many first born are born to parents who are poor because they are young. And many first born are born to parents who haven't the foggiest idea how to be parents. Children learn more from their parent's actions than words. They have to learn to predict their parent's actions to avoid dangers. That means both punishment and other dangers that might have to do with parent's inadequacies like alcohol or just bad temper. These inadequacies are worse at younger ages in adult life than later.

When the next kid comes along, the first born is expected to care for it. If the new child gets hurt, the first born often gets the blame. The first born becomes smarter because it needs to; it needs to be able to outsmart it's parents to survive. It needs to learn to tend to it's own needs without consequnce and escape the punishments of it's parents.

Meanwhile, subsequent offspring often end up with a different version of the same parents. Hormones a bit more in check. Finances a but better. The younger offspring must learn to defend itself against the older offspring, often it relies on the parents for this purpose.

That's what I believe about intelligence. We are often as smart as we need to be. In many of our lives, it is a powerful urge to please our parents. But it is nowhere near what the psychologists believe. Parents used to leave their offspring to the wolves if it proved genetically inferior. Children would do the same to parents if it were socially acceptable and if they felt justified. This idea that one gets intelligence from a parent's values is pure romance, not science. A group of parents trying to prove their own value on their own terms through scientific methods. The reality does not justify everybody.

6/23/2007 How To Know If You're In Love

6/23/2007 How To Know If You're In Love

This is a question that I forgot to address in my earlier posts. Contrary to popular belief, it is not difficult to ascertain if you are in love.

First, you have to define love. There are two basic definitions of love. The first one is caring very deeply about someone. If that's the definition that you go by, then fine. All you have to do is take emotional inventory. How much do you feel you care about the person? Furthermore, this definition of love can apply to anyone and is not limited to a romantic context. Lastly, there is not guarantee from this definition that love will last forever. One day, the person you care about may violate your values and you will not love him anymore. Also, you may meet someone you care about more.

The definition of romantic love that most of us mean when we use the word “love” is the one the mistrals sang of in the medieval period. Love that is “meant to be”, two souls who were one in heaven and split to come to earth. Then on earth the two halves seek each other out. IF you believe this about your mate, then you are in love.

The dirty truth about love is that many people today simply lack the imagination to truly believe in such a concept. Thus many of us are incapable of love. The root of this lack of imagination is not education or modern science, but rather fear. And the cause of that fear is safety. While many of the previous generations had more danger in their lives and thus had to confront their fears on a daily basis, we in the modern world go days, if not years, without being physically threatened. We all would rather believe in the safe world of logic and rationality, it's predictable. But we soon grow bored. We long for the pleasure of our own belief, and we long for love the love we cannot have without belief.

6/22/2007 Rape Fantasy

6/22/2007 Rape Fantasy

My first rape fantasy came after my first love, Christine. After she graduated, I had to accept that I would likely never see her again. Immediately I started having vivid, intense sexual fantasies about her. It was summer time and I had lots of free time. I was depressed and the fantasies brought me down somewhat.

That summer was somewhat surreal. I started going to bed late at night, 3-4AM. I would watch letterman, then I would fantasize. My mind was getting warped from depression and too little sleep. I would go to bed certain that someone was trying to kill me. No fun.

Then it was time for the family vacation. We all went to this place on the beach. I fantasized that I would meet Christine there and we would fall in love. This became a very intense fantasy. But then something else intervened.

The past. Years before, when I was twelve years old and on the same yearly family vacation, there was a girl who stayed in the same complex. She was twelve as well. She was slender with brown skin, brown hair and blue eyes. Stunningly beautiful. I was so in love with her. I would look out my window hoping she would walk by. And I had some hope as well.

My family stayed there for two weeks. The girl, Lisa, was there for the same two. The first week she and her sister hung around with these other two guys who were a floor below me. But those two guys only stayed a week. The next week, Lisa would be seeking new company.

When that week came, it was quickly apparent that Lisa had romance on her mind for that week as well. But not for me. My best friend was also in the complex, and it became obvious very soon that she liked him, not me. That was a blow to me at the time. I had no idea what made one like the other. My friend was a year younger than me. He was an inch shorter. I was stronger, I could run faster. I was smarter. I was a better swimmer. I could draw. Why did she like him? I became sick as a dog, throwing up every hour or so for the rest of the week. It was years before i realized that it was probably psychosomatic.

That story might have a lot to do with my curiosity regarding what makes us attracted to one anther.

Back to Christine. My fantasy was to meet her at the beach and fall in love. Then one night at 3:00AM, I had a waking nightmare. Christine and I meet at the beach, but then she falls in love with my best friend. The first time the thought came into my head, it hurt so much that I tried to drive it out with every thought I could. But it kept coming back. It was inevitable that history repeat itself. If I met Christine, she would like him, not me. I couldn't take that.

But as the thought kept occurring, the pain lessened slightly. And it became more and more erotic. I would picture them having sex with one another and even though I was not part of the fantasy, it would get me very excited. Then the fantasy took on one more turn...

The Rape Fantasy

In my fantasy, Christine and I already know each other. We are at the beach together, and we have been together for a long time. I am Christine's fiance. We have a good relationship and an easy, supportive comfort with one another, no one is expecting what happens next.

I introduce Christine to a group that includes my friend, his parents and another couple that is in the complex. When I get around to my friend, Christine looks at him for the first time. She looks surprised when she sees him. Her eyes widen and she smiles at him like he's a the grand prize she's won. It's unmistakably sexual and I am shocked at the brazenness of it from such an ethical girl. She quickly composes herself. She says hi and shakes his hand. Though she never breaks eye contact. I look around at the others and they don't seem to have noticed. That's hard for me to believe. The rest of the conversation is pleasant, I forget the hurt I felt at the lewd display I saw from the girl I love. Perhaps it's best forgotten.

That night I am tired and turn in early. Christine goes out with the same group I introduced her with. She comes home with him.

As he says goodnight to her, he kisses her. She cannot help but kiss him back. The two share a long, deep, passionate, illicit kiss. He leads her to the empty bathhouse, she complies without thinking. Once inside they kiss again, this time more passionately, almost angrily, and before she even realizes that she's betraying her fiance he has her hand up her shirt. The one thing that takes her out of the moment is his hand going into her pants. Before it reaches it's destination, she pushes him away. She locks eyes with him, not thinking of him anymore but her the love she has betrayed. Still aroused, but now ashamed, she wordlessly tries to hurry past him. But he grabs her by the arm and throws her against the wall, his hand pinning her by her chest. She struggles and starts to cry, but she doesn't scream. His other hand wiggles into her shorts, she intensifies her struggle, but it's no use. She can barely breath with the hand at her chest. When the other hand cups her pussy, her protest mix with unmistakable signs of sexual arousal. Her shoulders rise and her head tilts back, her eyes closed. Her breath heavy and erratic. The signs of protest now reduced to a vague tone in her whine. He penetrates her with his middle finger and rubs her clitoris with his thumb. She hasn't opened her eyes. As he moves inside her, her body settles and she arches her back, her head tilted back even farther. He takes her hand from her chest but she doesn't realize it. The part of her that protested is erased. Her pussy is flooded and she is starting to undulate her whole body with his hand. He sees her skin, white in the moonlight, traced by little drops of sweat and it pleases him. He can smell her arousal on her breathe, she keeps breathing heavy though she doesn't know or care that it fills him with desire for her. Suddenly, she gasps. Her excitement has reached a new level but the sound she makes seems to wake her. She looks him in the eye and then gets a shamed look on her face. The idea that someone might hear her occurred and now she is horrified. She tries to run but he grabs her and throws her to the floor.

As his hands go to work on her again, she protests with a whispered, “No. Please.” even as she begins to groove on his fingers again. He bends over her to breath in her breath again, which is now erratic again. He keeps up the motion relentlessly, and she seems to lose all will to resist. As her undulations become almost violent, her breath heavy and hard, he stops. She settles onto the floor and he begins to caress her pussy again. This time she whines again, but out of longing for the pleasure he was giving her. He whispers to her, “Tell me what you want.” She doesn't respond. She is trying to quiet her mind, but the hand won't let her. “Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you.” He lowers his body onto her and his erection rubs on her thigh. The thought of his dick sends a wave of pleasure through her and finally she whispers to him, “Fuck me”. In an instant he is inside her. When he first enters her, she throws her head back and wraps her legs around him. He starts slowly but soon he is fucking her like mad.

Inside her she is reveling in pleasure. There is part of her mind afraid someone will discover them. But the pleasure of his cock inside her drowns out her protest. He feels very warm to her, hot even. It's a steamy summer night and they are now both sweating profusely, mercilessly erotic. The part of her that keeps imagining someone will walk in sees the scene. They would not know that she protested. It would look like passion. But the thought was lost in the minutes of his constant, ceaseless thrusting. Everything about him assaulted her with pleasure now. His burning cock thrusting into her, filling her with the heat of arousal which seemed to seep deeper inside her every time. Deeper and deeper, more and more pleasure, more desire to be fucked more, and harder. His whole body seemed like a fuck to her. His smooth tanned skin, his long muscles. His sweat tasted sweet and mingling with hers cause the pleasure to deepen. His breath was dark and heavy with arousal and she breathed it into her lungs, the pleasure deepening. Finally she could feel the end coming, nothing in her was left to protest anymore. As the waves of orgasm surged through her, every part of her gave in to him. Her body, her mind, her soul, reveling in more pleasure than she had ever known, completely dominated by his passion. Visual signs of pleasure poured out her body as she ground herself into him, clutching him, pleading him to plunder her more, gratefully receiving the profound thrusts now, and finally then losing all energy and collapsing onto the floor. As he gathers himself to leave, he tells her he's taking her out again tomorrow night, she just nods. But she is going to be there.

That's where the fantasy ends.

My Reaction To the Fantasy...

I was still young enough to become quite troubled over this fantasy. It wasn't just that I had it, I never had a problem with just a fantasy. But the fact that I reacted the way I did. I had never known such powerful arousal. And the confusion made things worse. I started masturbating over this fantasy 3-4 times a day. I was obsessed. And I couldn't deal with it. I didn't want to think of it but it kept popping into my head. I would masturbate for relief but any relief was mild and short lived. It went on like that for weeks. I began to wonder if I would ever think clearly, or be able to do anything in life. I began to wonder if I could ever be happy.

Then I began to analyze it. It couldn't be that I get so much pleasure from this girl's pain. Why would that be? I would go over and over what my thoughts were during masturbation. What was it that gave me so much pleasure?

Then I realized something. The fantasy was purely voyeuristic. I was nowhere in sight. When I was thinking of this situation, was I putting myself in his place or hers? Then I realized it. Sometimes I was thinking of myself as her, not him. The answer was obvious: I was gay.

Looking back, I think it's kind of funny. I mean, being a liberal, even at that age, I found it easier to deal with the idea of being gay than the idea of taking pleasure at a rape fantasy. Over the next few days I vowed not to think of women. I would think of only boys. That was ugly. I still had a few friends back then. When we would hang out, I would try to look at their asses and their penises. I would think of kissing them, but I never felt anything but disgust. Finally I had remembered being slightly turned on by Axel Rose in the “Sweet Child Of Mine” video. They had stopped playing it then and I set the vcr and recorded hours and hours for days and days and finally they played it. I tried to masturbate over it. But it was pathetic. The bulge in those leather pants wasn't enticing to me, it looked small and pathetic like a little bird. I couldn't even pleasure myself over it. So I concluded that I am not gay.

But I do realize that there is a part of me that likes losing the difference between them. When I masturbate over two people having sex, I do put myself in the women's position sometimes. I think some rape fantasies do serve the purpose in men to express a hidden desire to have sex with other men. The women is raped because she expresses the man's reluctance to admit his attraction to men. Then she orgasms when she is raped to express the very passion that the man having the fantasy cannot admit to himself. This is not the beginning and end of why we fantasize about rape, but it is one aspect of it for me, and I bet a lot of guys out there as well.

The real reasons I took such pleasure in the fantasy would remain a mystery. But the analysis took my mind off it for a while. I wasn't obsessed anymore. I wasn't so ashamed as I was. The fantasy lost it's guilt and became an easy pleasure I accessed when I wanted to. But it was always more intense than any other fantasy. I would go to the video store sometimes and rent any movie that said it had a rape in it. But nothing ever really satisfied me. The women never orgasmed.

As time passed, it became clear that this was a pattern with me. Every time I fall in love with a girl, or women, I followed the same script. First I felt the joy of attraction and all I can think is how to talk to her and make her happy. Then it became clear that I was never going to get the courage to talk to her about how I felt. Then I became depressed and hated myself. Then the rape fantasies begin. And it's never me doing the raping. Always the one who she would be more attracted to.

The next part will be specifically about the orgasm and what it means to rape fantasy. Happy dominations to you...

6/22/2007 If I Could Marry Anyone...

6/22/2007 If I Could Marry Anyone...

Here is a list and some brief explanations. This list will, of course, get me arrested, so don't be surprised if my next post is years away...

1. My cousin. Would this get me arrested? Last time I saw her she was 14. As lovely as you probably think she is, with long blond hair and perfect white skin. She is an intelligent and responsible girl who is college age now. It was her voice, so soft like a whisper, that really got me. But the whole time I have this overwhelming feeling that we are similar on the inside.

   Of course, this is all ignoring considerations other than raw attraction. There are things that would get in the way of such a marriage, like having to answer the question, “Where is your wife” with the answer, “playing jump rope in the driveway.”

2. My former therapist. She was a couple years younger than me. When I first saw her I thought that I'd be in love with her after a few sessions. But it didn't happen. I guess I was so suicidal at that time that I needed her to be my therapist more than my love interest. Plus, she was married so, off limits. When I left therapy, the fantasies started in earnest, and have only intensified since. No one on earth would give me so much pleasure. I didn't have these feelings during my therapy, but I do remember looking at her face as she was talking to me and thinking how utterly beautiful it was. Her husband is so lucky to be able to gaze into those eyes for so long.

   She is my perfect lover in many ways. First, physically, there is no doubt that she is the utter embodiment of everything I ever wanted. I would call her an Egyptian goddess. Next, her voice is lovely. I am convinced that the sound of a voice has a profound effect on how we feel about one another. She was deeply caring about people, and very wise.

3. Jennifer. I went into the story of Jen earlier. I still have very vivid fantasies about her. My feelings are not the same as I have not seen her in some time. But I know that if I did, they would come right back.

4. Another women I used to work with. She will be an example of what I like to call a sexual paradigm, which I'll explain in detail later. When I first saw her, I thought she was attractive. But I had no idea what I was in for. I found her to be tremendously erotic; more so every time I saw her. Eventually I fantasized about her constantly and the thought of her brought me to a deeper level of pleasure, almost as if she alone composed my sexual preference and all other women were just settling in lieu of her. I have no idea what her personality is, but the pleasure I would get from her is so great that she is here.

5. My cousin. Two instances of incest thusfar. Of course, many of us have at least one cousin we'd like to fuck. This cousin is the mother of the first. But she is such good person, I would love to be with her. She is an older women, but still in wonderful shape.

6. The girl next door. Or rather the one that lived behind me. Even when she was very young, there was always something about her face I loved. She grew into a very beautiful women, who no doubt is fighting them off. The problem with marrying her would be that maybe one day she would find out that I'd rather have her brother fuck me than her. First instance of homosexual fantasy.

More On Selection...

So why these women and not others? Why do I not want to marry the pornstars I download? Why do I not want to Marry Anna kournikova? Do we simply cherish that which we see every day? But I do discriminate among even that group. So why them? Do they all represent me trying to deal with issues from the past, like my previous post on Sarah would indicate?

I recently heard someone define passion as love plus anger. Is anger part of passion? Do we need to be angry at the people we love in part because otherwise there would be no passion? That would explain the fact that I realized that I was attracted to Sarah mostly because she was a women is distress. I said I was still trying to protect my mother from my father. But that doesn't tell the whole story. I was angry at my mother. Because she never could protect me from my father. That's not really fair, but I was a child at the time. Do we keep the hurts we have as children for the rest of our lives, and then try to find mates through which we work out those issues? Was I looking for a women that I could transfer my anger onto?

Anger does have to be a part of love. I mean, women like a gentle lover, I believe that. But no one wants someone to be too gentle too much of the time. At one point, one has to be passionate. Does that mean angry? Do we expect love to be angry at times? I think we do. Love cannot be love all of the time. That leaves hurts in us unresolved.

But how far can that anger go? Of course, we all have values. If the anger goes past those rules, love cannot develop. If it already has developed, then maybe it could continue, but it wouldn't be fulfilling. But anger is not anger if it is too gentle. So we need to find ways of hurting our lovers without breaking rules. If we do not do this, we do not find love. And we also need to find lovers who hurt us in the right ways.

So through all of this, what of that which does break the rules? If we love as much for the hurts in our past as the compassion and lust we receive from our lovers, then what of those who would go beyond that which is acceptable to accomplish this? If the issue is purely that of human happiness, then is the direct route the right way to go?

For example, if a girl grows up with an alcoholic father who is, at times, abusive. She then grows up and marries a man who is similar to her father. This type of thing happens every day. Would the more direct route be for her to engage in a romantic relationship with her father and try to use her affections to create a more tolerable environment with him? From the point of view of marrying for breeding purposes, this makes no sense. But if we marry to make ourselves happy, and we love to heal our pain, than why not?

While I think it would be naïve to assume that such a thing is not happening somewhere in the world, and furthermore it may also be naïve to assume that the sexual lures of a young women could not influence the actions of her father, one has to conclude that any success coming from such a practice would be a tremendous minority of occurrences. Certainly the mother would end up with her own set of issues from such a maneuver on the part of the daughter, and things would get complicated. But it would be putting the blame where it belongs.

And if anger is part of love, then that would certainly explain why men might physically control his lover. This may occur through physical violence. But if his lover is dealing with her own issues, then running away from him may not be an option to her, as she would be left with unresolved hurt.

Is that our snapshot of love? We love each other, we hurt each other. Then we love each other because we hurt each other. Is divorce, then, just another stage of love? Is hitting just another sexual act if the two parties find pleasure in it? Some would bristle at the very notion that one would gain pleasure from such things.

But none of this leads to our happiness. What would? The real problem, of course, is with God. Many of us say that God is perfect; pusillanimous ass-kissing. It was God who made the alcoholic father. It was God who gave his daughter an issue that she had no power to overcome. It was God that did not intervene when the abuser committed his abuse. Are we responsible for God's design? No. Much of the problem is existential crisis. God will not intervene in our endeavors anymore, if he ever did. But we do not blame him. Of course, God has too much power for us to punish him, or he does not exist at all. But it is a nice way to realize how little right and wrong matter in human relations.

Let's begin by getting to my first rape fantasy and examining the reasons for it. That's next.

6/22/2007 The Smell Of Food, Fear, And Pleasure

6/22/2007 The Smell Of Food, Fear, And Pleasure

The cool thing about never cleaning your condo is that everything begins to smell like food.

That might be why I am gaining weight again. Those reading this might be inclined to yawn at that. Fat guy gains weight, what else is new? Most wouldn't understand the pain I feel every time the scale goes up. After all, what pleasure do I have in life other than masturbation and food? And what is life without pleasure? When I am on a diet, I often become depressed and cannot figure out why I should get out of bed. I am caught in a trap; either eat moderately and gain 40 more pounds, or starve myself and be thin and miserable. My body was poorly designed.

But of course, my pain doesn't matter. I'd like to bring up now another television show I watched yesterday. The show is called “The Inferno” on MTV. In it we have a person named “E.V.” or Evelyn. The show is a reality show in a similar mode to “Survivor”. The contestants face a new challenge every show, and every other one a new contestant is eliminated. Evelyn is an Olympic caliber athlete and is generally the top performing female in the show, even competitive with the males.

But the last show I saw featured Evelyn being grilled by the other girls about selfish performance. They called her out for trying to achieve only for her own personal glory, at their expense. Evelyn defended herself, but I felt so bad for her. She pointed out that she hadn't done anything wrong, and she is correct. But of course, that doesn't mean anything. People find reasons. They don't care deep down what is right or wrong, they use ethics and social proof to defend themselves.

Evelyn's critics are motivated by fear. I hope that in time she realizes that this is true and comes to expect it. Usually, anger is motived by fear. If people see something in it for them, they'll root for you. But when people see someone excel, they are generally threatened by it. Most of them feel that they could be the same way if they had worked harder. But more than that, anything exceptional must always be interpreted as threatening because it is unexpected. If we don't know what to expect, we don't know how to live our lives.

Someone who achieves greatly must not only be an achiever, but also a leader. Otherwise, people will try to establish their power over you before you can use your power on them. One who achieves must always be working to build trust, and let everyone else know that their success is intertwined with your own. An achiever must not only be a better athlete, but a better person as well. If not, they will be an outcast.

But putting the responsibility on Evelyn's shoulders does not excuse her critics. Listen to the radio, watch the T.V. We are all looking for reasons to criticize. We are all looking to assign evil motives to those who displease us. And it's not just the talk, it's the action. What's going on in Darfur? IN Iraq? All of it based on fear. We are all trying to carve out a safe existence for ourselves. For some that means charging across borders with weapons. For others, it means going to work in jobs we hate. It could mean we spend hours thinking about how selfish our spouses are, so we can disarm them with our criticisms and accusations. None of you are getting it right, I assure you.

How am I above this? I am not. The preceding post was exactly what I am railing against. I only typed it because I have no problem being a hypocrite. In fact, I aspire to a higher level of hypocrisy than anyone else. After all, hypocrisy is one of the defining characteristics of human nature. Thus, if I am a hypocrite, then I am more human. And it's the only way to tell the truth. Why should the fact that these judgments apply to me stop me from saying them? If it is true, it should be said, right? We are humanists here. Knowing that I am going to do the wrong thing is knowing I'm human.

And to know human nature is to be disgusted, at least much of the time. If I, too, am not motivated by fear, then why am I a 36 year old virgin? Of course I am motivated by fear. More so, not less, than others. The only ethical ground that I can claim is that I use my fear to hurt myself, not others, as evelyn's critics do. The fact that she is an attractive young woman makes it even harder to watch. We attack the best among us out of fear. We attack the next city-state out of fear. We attack the ones we love out of fear. If not for fear, nothing would get done. One can be forgiven, then, for forgetting the humanist's idea that we all have a responsibility to work for the betterment of humanity and retiring to our room to keep a little pleasure for ourselves. Only those who are out of sight are immune. Only those with access to pleasure are happy.

Now I've got a nice lather worked up. I think I'll go back to my marriage list. Yes, I said in my prior post that I wouldn't be posting it, but then, that was out of fear as well, wasn't it? Plus, I feel unpredictability is a feature of mine. But don't take that to mean I'm trying to impress you. I started this blog to both share and make a public record of the thoughts that I, and thus we, think but don't say. So there is nothing better than to post this...

6/21/2007 Whateva

6/21/2007 Whateva

Okay, I looked up the “confessions Of A Matchmaker” thing and some of the people on the official site's message board and some of the people there agreed with me. They're not as angry as me but you can see why for a 36 year old virgin it would hit home.

On that note I turn to sexual subversion. I will start in my next post with my first rape fantasy. But I am not sure how to format it so it'll take until tomorrow.

I am actually pretty well read on the subject of sexual mores but you'd never know it since I forget 90% of what i read right after I read it. Don't pretend your much different. What I remember basically tells me that no one has the slightest idea why people do what they do. I'll give my opinion on their opining later. For now I move onto the story.

6/19/2007 Crunchies

6/19/2007 Crunchies

Every time I take a step in my condo there is a crunching noise. It's getting bad and I'm getting sick of it. No time to blog.

Due to the possibility of incriminating myself I have decided not to post a list of women I want to marry. I will instead move directly into the subject of illicit sexual practice as experienced by me. There will be no segue and it will be crude, but whatever. What do I care?

I am actually well read on the subject but you'd never know it since I immediately forget everything I read. Whatever. I'll start tomorrow with a detailed and rather grotesque account of my first rape fantasy. Then I'll go on to explain a few things. Nighty-night.

6/17/2007 Confessions Of An Underground Man

6/17/2007 Confessions Of An Underground Man

One thing I was born with more than most is backbone. I may think I'm not sexy, not attractive, and that in general few people actually want to hear the things I really think. But I have never felt like others knew what was true or false, right or wrong better than I do. It's hard to convince me I'm wrong. That might be because I'm smart or stubborn, but it's makes it a lot easier than otherwise.

Before I get to “Confessions Of A Matchmaker”, I'll say a word about the movie, “The 40 Year Old Virgin”. That movie came out when I was in a therapy group. The other members had seen it, and they thought it was funny. But none of them really knew if I should see it or not. The movie had relevance to my life that should be obvious. I wanted to see the movie, but I never did go to see it in when it was in theaters. I didn't think i was afraid of it, because after all, it was a romantic comedy with a Hollywood ending. If anything, it would heal me. But I guess I was more afraid to see it than I realized. But when it came out on video, I rented it.

My verdict: I can't think of a funnier movie. Steve Carell, who I sort of saw as a weak link on, “The Daily Show”, does a fantastic job creating a caricature; but one that seemed human enough that we rooted for him, and felt for him when he finally found love. Yes, some of the jokes aimed at him seemed aimed at me, but I was still able to laugh. I wish I had friends like that to help me.

But one added virtue of the movie: it understands me. Yes, he is a caricature, but if it's not a contradiction to say so, he is a fully formed one. When Carroll says what he says about women, “I respect women. I respect them so much I stay away from them.” That eloquently states what my own attitude was for much of my life. Carell's character is clearly stuck in childhood in a way that I could not have afforded to be. I have always felt like an adult, for as far back in my childhood as I can remember. But while the character was not exactly like me, I still felt a kinship with him, and I was happy to see him overcome his problems. The people who wrote that character knew how to write characters; they had at least some understanding of human nature.

If “The 40 Year Old Virgin” understood human nature in a way that satisfied me, “Confessions Of A Matchmaker” is mired in narrow-minded views of gender roles. Last night the matchmaker had a client named John. John was a 41 year old virgin. He was, as the show kept reminding us, good-looking. He might have been cursed, though, with a gay-sounding voice. He admitted to having fantasies about both men and women. But he didn't deserve what he got.

What he got was a female matchmaker who had no understanding of him whatsoever, and only a superficial understanding of male-female interactions. The first thing she does is match him up with a women who is good-looking, like he is, That was the featured criterion. Not that a guy who was a forty-year old virgin had ever seen an attractive women before. That must be the problem. Put a hot chick out there and the guy will jump over the table to hump her. Right. If the guy is a forty year old virgin, he's probably occupied with something other than being in the vicinity of a hot chick.

Not that maybe someone as timid as he is might not find any sort of chemistry with a woman who is so, “open about her sexuality.” If you're a 41 year old virgin, and you're on a date, then sex is the last thing you ever want to talk about. Someone who has played it so safe his whole life might want someone to establish some comfort, no? Someone who would prove to him that she values him for something other than sex. If you're a 41 year old virgin, then you are old enough to know that your going to fumble through sex like a teenager for a long time before you learn how to really please a women. Someone who wants to hop into bed in an instant and is almost immediately paving the way there with her words isn't a “match”, not by a longshot. You need to know that she'll stick with you. You need to know that she knows that your a good person and have passion for her, even though you don't know what you're doing. She needs to understand that you are still a sexual man even though you don't want to drive her off by looking like a fool. And the more expectation she pours on you, the more convinced you are that you will.

After the disastrous first date, he tries to tell the “Matchmaker” that his date was moving too fast, but it fell on deaf ears. Of course, she then concludes that he is gay.

Because since men are animals, the fact that an attractive women even mentions sex is supposed to mean that he is going to pop a boner and do whatever it takes to get to fucking her. Women have this idea that men have to earn their passion. But when this women drives her date away, she never asks herself what she did to earn his reaction. Women think that because we have high testosterone levels that we will be driven to “hunt”, that we don't have minds that control our actions. Just because you have to fight off a lot of men in your time doesn't mean that all men are dogs. Most men are afraid of women. Most men only learn to approach because that's the only way to get love. Most men realize that being nice isn't going to get them anywhere.

The next part of the show features John going on a date with a gay man. John enters into it only reluctantly. He starts the date by running down a list of what the matchmaker told him not to say and saying it. Could it be he's driving the guy away? No, that would mean that the matchmaker is wrong, and we can't have that. So they go on. John's gay date is appalled, but remains undeterred. They end up in a fairly easy exchange. This is called, “chemistry” by the matchmaker, though they don't ever actually make any physical contact or any overt gesture of attraction. The Matchmaker concludes that John is, in fact, gay. Talking to John after the date, John indicates that he was not attracted to his date. Couldn't be that the easy exchange came from the fact that he wasn't attracted to the guy and that took the pressure off? Couldn't be that it was easier talking to a guy that you couldn't care less about impressing because you're not really gay? “No more matches for John.” John did not like the one women he was matched with, so apparently his problems are too big for the matchmaker.

I think John's problem is that he went to a narrow-minded women who made no more effort to understand him than his disastrous date. Here it is, for anyone who cares to know. Most men are afraid to approach women. Even the men who learn to “hunt” learn to do so because that's the only way to get sex. 99% of men, even the hunters who have learned to love “the hunt”, would much rather sit on his barcalounger and have the women come to him. But women don't come to you. The best you can hope for is for them to bat an eyelash. But men still discriminate, and many of us want to be accepted for who we are. And for most of us, that means nice guys who haven't the foggiest idea why a women would be interested in us, and guys who want someone to love without the requirements of being alpha males or rich men. While the Matchmaker's superficial understanding of gender roles probably informs her, correctly, that integrity has no place in the sexual realpolitik, some of us still value our integrity and want to tell the truth. That's why he couldn't lie to the “sexually open” women.

And appearance was a poor reason to hook the two up. She passed the decision off as intuition, but she was clearly thinking quite logically. that if he was still a virgin at his age, that he was a lousy shot and that she was going to, oh god, do him a favor by supplying him with an easy target. Not that simple, honey. Never is. And when, predictably, the date went sour, both the matchmaker and the date displayed that characteristic that always seems to go hand in hand with ignorance: they judged him. The date decides that because she doesn't “smell pheromones” that he is gay. And when he doesn't deny it quickly enough, she feels confirmed. Of course, she doesn't realize that the fact that she isn't attracted to me indicates that she is a lesbian. But we'll let her discover that on her own.

But the matchmaker is the one that most incurs my wrath. Just the fact that she calls herself that indicates some sort of authority, at least to those who are willing to trust labels. I'm sure that in her own simplistic view she was trying to do him a favor fixing him with an easy target. But appearance is in the mind, as is everything else. When he went on the date with this women, she made him uncomfortable. No one would question a women for telling a man to go away if he made her feel that way. But as he physically shrunk further and further into his shell, and his date first didn't see this and then looked for reasons to blame him, he proved himself to the feeble minds around him to be less of a man. And if you're less of a man, then your gay.

Here's hoping that John trusts himself enough to “judge” them back, to realize that they are simple-minded women with superficial expectations of a man, and that they are not worth his time, and certainly not his money. I am in the same situation, and I would tell a women to go away in a second if I felt she was a rube or if I felt she went straight for the crude so gracelessly or articulately. Just because a women gives you a sent of vagina doesn't mean you lose your mind. For those that think, and those that long for feelings that are subtle and complex, Her words can erase her body in a hurry.

If the matchmaker is so schooled in the sexual realpolitik, then she should have known that if John were going to be lured out of his comfort zone by appearance, then it was going to take a younger one than assigned. Remember, matchmaker, we're being realistic here, right? But we all want things on our own terms, don't we?

John, though, may be looking for something that truly does not exist. That is a women who's attitude is not to sit back and let the men roll up and try to impress her. A women who decides who the best mate for her is the guy who makes her feel good with a few jokes and his confident style. A women who wants to put the work in to instill confidence in a man by letting him know that she wants him to love her, not someone who waits for a man who puts confidence on display and tries to take her. A patient women who knows that the best lover in the long run may not be the best one in the short term. A women who sees him as passionate and masculine even though he is too sensitive to do whatever it takes to get tail, like women think we do.

If I ever find such a women, I'll refer her to John. And spend too much time thinking of the lies I'll have to tell if I am ever to get love.

I won't be able to get to my marriage list today as I have two hours of awake time and about a week of work to do. Until later..

6/17/2007 Young People Kissing

6/17/2007 Young People Kissing

Good day today. Yes, today I am at the Market and I see these two young folks. Same reaction I had to the old people kissing, just less disgusting. I saw the girl first, I noticed her because she was pretty. (I must admit that as I get older, I begin to notice the scarcer attributes of elegance and grace more than the purely “nubile” attributes of round asses and looking good in spandex.) Originally I thought she was with her mother, but it turned out she was just with a fashion-challenged boyfriend. As they went into the market, they were holding hands and kind of skipping/dancing as they went. Then as I was leaving, they were still in the produce section, kissing.

Okay, the temptation is to decide they're stupid. They're dancing in the parking lot like two children. They're kissing in the produce section with the other vegetables. But that's crap, of course. I would give anything to be kissing her. They were not stupid, they were possessed of love, willing to express joy in ways that we normally wouldn't out of fear. They had the bravery and invincibility of their love, the kind of brazen attitude that we all have when we are with other people that we know “have our backs”. What could naturally spike your confidence more than a beautiful women kissing you? There should be no doubts as to why I resent them, it's jealousy. I want to kick his ass and drag her off by the hair. But this is not quite as disturbing as the old people kissing. At least I can envy them. With the older folks i had to confront the image of patently unsexy people displaying the fact that they are having sex, which reminds me both that I am not and also that if I do it might end up being with someone who is patently unsexy.

I'm feeling posty today. I have a chip on my shoulder after seeing a TV show last night. I'll post about that and then about my list of marriage candidates.

6/15/2007 It's Not A Tumor

6/15/2007 It's Not A Tumor

I am hearing bodily noises consistently now. Noises like stomachs grumbling, and joints cracking. But it's not coming from my body. Sometimes it comes from next to me. And sometimes it comes from the other room.

I had my doctor appt. today but all my symptoms broke for it and he just said let's hope they continue to get better. There was a perfect girl in the waiting room and she had a high voice like Jennifer Tilly, which I love. But she was nervous and fidgety and that made me nervous. Then another women came in with her mother. She kind of made some short comments to her mom, which always seems cruel to treat older people that way, but I don't know the back story. This women looked to have ten years on me but her body was still fantastic. While waiting she asked her mother, “Why do men get more handsome as they age while women just look old?” I think she was talking about the Fedex guy right in front of her. He was like 60 and working for Fedex. Was it the uniform? I guess being a loser doesn't repel women at all. If she fucked that guy, she'd kill him. She'd kill me, too, though.

This morning I woke up completely convinced that I was in love with a girl with whom I used to be in a support group. She had great eyes, and a great body. But then I started masturbating and this other women took over who does my laundry. Go figure. I like her, she's really pretty and nice. She has a great round face for kissing. But then, prior to a brief sojourn into Nancy Kerrigan, I finished for a Boy I used to play baseball with. I declare that to be my tribute to the whole Mass. Gay marriage thing.

One thing that often annoys me when I masturbate is that if I have an orgasm for a woman, than I probably won't want to think about her for a few days. That's something very strange that has been with me forever. I masturbate over a female and then I lose interest. Not in all sex but just her. It's weird, I guess it's instinct. It must hurt marriages. It reminds me of the movie, “Someone Like You.” All guys think they're studs. If I ever thought that it got beat out of me by women a long time ago.

Tomorrow I begin my own list of women I want to marry, followed by subversive love.

6/14/2007 Eye Of The Tumor

6/14/2007 Eye Of The Tumor

Okay, a rare day of clarity. I worked late and things seem to be getting better. I was not dizzy at all today. And my mind was clear. You might think I would find all this goodness and positivity to be disturbing, but I know it's the eye of the storm. Tomorrow is the doctor appt. and my mind is shutting down all the trouble in a defensive maneuver. Bravo, mind, but you won't get one past me. Nice try.

Anyway I heard a story today on a audiobook that I thought I'd share. It's about the man who is believed to have authored the “Art Of War”, Mr. Sun Tzu. The story goes that the Emperor wanted to review the army, and called Sun Tzu to demonstrate his strategies. He was asked if his tactics and plans would work with females. He said yes.

So the Emperor's concubines were called out for Sun Tzu's demonstration. Sun Tzu picked two of the emperor's favorites to be the officers in charge. Sun Tzu stood in front of the untrained women and said, “I assume you all know what I mean when I say left, right, up, down, etc. Now line up and when I give the order, turn and face to the left.”

He gave the order and the women started to giggle. Sun Tzu said, “If the order is given unclearly and it is not followed, it is the General's fault. Now when I give the order, turn to the left.” Sun Tzu then gave the order, and again, the women only giggled. Sun Tzu then said, “If the order is given unclearly, it is the General's fault if it is not followed. If the order is given clearly and it is not followed, it is the officer's fault.” Sun Tzu then ordered that the two concubines who were selected officers to be beheaded.

The Emperor, who was watching, then sent to Sun Tzu, “We have followed your demonstration and you have proven your abilities satisfactorily. Please do not behead our two friends, as we would be bereft without them.” Sun Tzu sent the reply, “In light of your earlier orders I cannot accept the previous note” and had the two women beheaded. Sun Tzu then stood in front of the women and gave the order to turn left. The women turned left in complete unison, and proceeded to follow every order to the letter in perfect precision.

Sun Tzu then went to the Emperor and informed him that the women were ready for battle. The Emperor informed Sun Tzu that he should return to his army and that the review of the army had concluded.

The lesson here, of course, is do. Not. Fuck. With. Sun. Scholars warn against taking such stories too literally. But I don't see why not. Nothing is more violent than history. Years ago, many of us spent our entire lives in a 250 square foot area. Many of us did not know anything about the people who lived in the next town, never mind the next country. And when we found things out, we thought they were barbarians. We were all only days or months away from being invaded, our meager riches stripped. Our wives raped, our men killed. People today say video games desensitize kids. But nothing does it like the real thing. Like beheading criminals in the street, your parents cheering on.

Like your neighbor's army invading, then killing and eating your opponents out of respect, as was the custom in some cultures (still is in some places). Or defeating your army then raping the defeated soldiers.

There is no wisdom to be had from history, never mind the Greek's pedantry and the Christian's rewrites. History is not to guide us, it is to show us human nature. Every one of those awful acts is part of us. Part of our genes. Part of our memories. Somewhere in your head, you are watching a women being beheaded for being a witch, and you are cheering.

(This is what you do with your good days?)

6/13/2007 Love At First Sight: What Is Love?

6/13/2007 Love At First Sight: What Is Love?

Okay, so I have now eliminated the idea of soul-mates. I have analyzed the attraction between two people and discovered reasons. I have explained how a profound attraction can exist without words or experience. I have determined us as a species to be pleasure seekers. But before I get into pleasure seeking, I want to answer one question that needs to be answered in any discussion on love at first sight. What is love?

Let's reject out of hand that God sends us love from up above. Yes, it feels sublime, but c'mon. This isn't the dark ages. We don't need our imaginations dictated to us by Latin speaking pederasts. Let's also agree note to utter the words, “Love is what you believe it is.” Or, “Love exists if you believe in it.” Such pluralistic platitudes should certainly be a part of a mechanism that immediately robs the writer of the blog they are using to inflict such banalities on the world. So with that in mind...

Love Is...

It was the with the Ancient Hebrews that the idea of universal justice and the idea that all beings have access to God first appears. This made for a nice little merger with Plato's soul-mates idea. This makes for a nice little religion in our modern day. After all, we all can't be rich. Most of us will spend much of our lives being exploited by the rich and by our government. Most of us will have little pleasure in our lives. We will suffer all the agonies of a cruel God: cancer. Aids. Getting old. Arthritis. Broken bones. Alzheimer's. What will there be to live for? The compassion of others? Those moments when we can give love to each other? But when others are so willing to hurt and exploit, what terms can we set to make sure we find compassion without getting hurt? Soul-mates. That's the idea. Find your soul-mate and live for your family. Right?

In my last post, I concluded that not everyone has a soul-mate. I think we can throw out all of the ideas of universal justice and equal access to God. In our modern society, the idea of soul-mates and living for family takes on the scent of a fairy-tale. Who hurts us more than the ones we love? Do we believe that we will be safe with our soul-mate? Do serial killers have soul-mates? And if so, wouldn't they naturally kill their soul-mates? And wouldn't their soul-mates then want to be killed? If the truth of the soul must manifest itself on the physical plane, then don't these things follow?

No, they don't. Because all of this is a construction that serves to promise us pleasure and protect us from pain. If it doesn't serve that purpose, it isn't constructed. It's not about something making sense, or about a set of rules to live by. It's about what gives us pleasure.

Inventing Love...

I'll tell a story I've told before. One time a co-worker told me he didn't believe in love. I asked what he meant, and he said, “Love is an invention.” I told him that if love was an invention, it must be real. He said he never thought of it that way. I think that it's an unfortunate truth that a lot of men see their relationships that way. Most men, after all, don't know the first thing about pleasing a women. Many men feel so lucky to just get a women that when she decides she wants to marry him, he concedes rather than lose her. But he always resents her, because as far as he's concerned, he settled for her. Our perception of ourselves and our desires shape our view of our life.

But “Love” is in the ghost, not the machine, isn't it? If we believe it is true, then it is. Love is first and foremost a feeling, not necessarily an emotion, but a feeling. And as a feeling, if we feel it, than it is true. But is love nothing more than a feeling?

History Of Love

Our modern day concept of love first appeared in history during the medieval period, sung to the ladies of the court by troubadours. They sang of love that “lasts forever”. Love that “is meant to be”. Are all of these things truth? Some of this must exist on the physical plane, right? If the soul split in heaven, it must have done so in reality. In some place we could see if we were God, or chosen by him. So is love dependent on belief in God? Is love an empirical belief?

Okay, lets go a step further. We realize, now, in our postmodern society that there is no physical plane. It is all a function of our imagination. Our eyes are poets. So if we believe in love, than love is real, right? But doesn't that also mean if we don't believe in love, then it's not real? And what if some of us believe in love, and some of us don't? Okay, so this is all serving to confuse the issue, and I am not going to write and ode to the paralysis of analysis. This article will determine once and for all whether or not romantic love exists. So we have to assert some conclusions.

Blasting Through Pluralism

What is the definition of love? In our modern pluralist society, we accept all kinds of different forms or definitions of love. But for our purposes, let's define love as that which the troubadours sang about. The idea of two souls, united forever, destined to love one another. This is the idea of love that exists in America, though not all of us believe it. Not all of us believe anything. This idea of love is why we marry today. This is what we decide to believe in or not. This is the standard. So this is what love is.

IS it real? Oh, great! Now we have to define what it means for something to be real. That shouldn't be to hard...sigh. Alright... since I have already decided that the physical world is just another aspect of the imagination, is anything we can imagine real? No, there are things we “tag” as being real, and things we “tag” as being unreal. A dream, for example, is imagined but not real. The computer you are using to read this is real. Then there are things we are not as certain about. Like God. The inability to define God as real largely has to do with social proof. If everyone in society believed in God, we would regard him as real. But would that make him real? God as the tree in the forest...

But let's go even a step further. Why do we deem some things real and others not real? Certainly the method of coming about an idea or image has something to do with it. If we see something, we tend to regard it as real. But if others see the same thing differently, then again, it confuses us. Is social proof required to deem something real? In truth, we all have different reasons for deeming something real or not. Just like we all have different opinions on love, most of the banal. Again, our pluralism interferes with any attempt at certainty. But I am not here to celebrate differences or spit out platitudes.

Denial Of Reason

So let's go even deeper. We all deem different things to be real. We all have different reasons why. So why am I going over the reasons? Reasons, you see, are ornaments. We hang them because they look good; they have nothing to do with actual function. The real reason we believe something has nothing to do with what we say it does. What does, then, have to do with Actual function?

Let me explain a bit. In his book about the mind, “The Blank Slate: The Modern Denial Of Human Nature”, Steven Pinker relates an experiment performed on people who have had the connection between the left and right hemispheres of the brain severed. The patient was shown a sign in his right eye, placed carefully where his left eye could not see. The left eye corresponds to the left side of the brain, the right eye to the right. The sign said get up and walk. When the patient was shown the sign, they would get up and walk, like the sign told them. But when they were asked why, they would answer, “Because I wanted a coke.” The left side of the brain came up with a reason because it didn't know why it did what it did.

Follow Your Heart...Or Eat It Out

So common today to say that, “Follow your heart.” In matters of love, how utterly ignorant. After all, reason is what we tell ourselves so that we can live with our desires. And then isn't love reason? Love is a subset of logic. After all, love is a story, isn't it? The one told by Plato and the troubadours? So often, “Go with your heart” is an excuse to go with your body. But love unlocks the desires. In a society where we at least pretend to mate with one person for life, the logical aspects of your mate are of the utmost importance. Who, after all, is going to dedicate their whole life to you, even when you are old dying? You can't know the future with your emotions. You can know with the mind.

Back To Reality...

So reasons are to be set aside. They are what we tell ourselves so we can live with ourselves. They are not the cause of the effect. What is important is motivation.

Notice I used reason to eliminate reason. If you are not part of it already, welcome to Postmodern America.

We believe it because we get pleasure from it, or because it protects us from pain. Our reality is based on need. We all see what we want to see.

We can know our mind with our mind. But we cannot determine what is real with reason. So what is real? In the realm of our imagination, we tab some things real and not real. Reason for this is not logical, or rather, logic does not enlighten us as to why.

In a world where there is no difference between the real and the imagined, is love real? If there is no reason to tab something real or not real, how can we ever know if anything is real, much less love?

The answer is action. If motivation is what is the operative criterion, then we can only truly discern motive by intuiting from action. And we all love. Most all of us get married at one point if not more. We all want to mate for life, at least until we get to know our mate. We listen to love songs constantly, we expect love and we expect others to love. Of the things in the world that give us pleasure, love is the most important motivation of a human being in this society today, far outstripping God or duty. In a post-modern society, what could be more important than the pleasure of love?

Now I must go into my room and lash myself for writing something life-affirming. But before I do I must impress upon you that not everyone has a soul-mate. Many of us are somewhat cursed in that we all possess the ability to love who possesses the ability to reason. But many of us do not have a soul-mate, and are therefore cursed to wander and live in want.

I should say before going on that I never did believe in evolution. It is the tendency of our minds to try to make sense of itself. But the world we analyze is, again, only illusion. We are not the product of hundreds of years of evolution, we are the products of our minds. All of the issues of evolutionary psychology are also issues in the present, and our minds are capable of more than we can currently imagine. Mating is about defense, about establishing a status through our associations. And while I generally identify two root motivations for all humans, safety and pleasure, one is a subset of the other.

So there are two important points to take from this post. One, love is a story that clears away fear to experience the pleasure of as much romance, compassion and arousal as we have the imagination to muster. We often make a distinction between love, which includes compassion and commitment, and sexual pleasure, which does not. But love, too, is about pleasure, a found set of terms that rationalizes and enables more pleasure than mere copulation. And two, our pluralistic values allow love to be real even when it is perverse. Subversive love is up next. First, I will go over a list of women that I would like to marry. That, I assure you, will segue nicely into subversive love. Hide the children.