Thursday, May 27, 2010

"Glow in the Dark Penis" revisited:

"Glow in the Dark Penis" a tag/hook, a phrase which appeared years ago on the blog "criticalwomen of film' still attracts "hits"; Internet surfers from around the world; 111 to 116 countries/territories per month are repeatedly registered on the Google scale. At the core of this statistical success is the experience of the hidden desires of those who suffer from guilt; the so called "pervert".

It is a brilliant phrase because it uses the word penis - which is one of those trigger internet suffer words - coupled with the word Dark which denotes hidden/ forbidden secretive sexual thoughts. In short, it appeals to those steeped in guilt

Guilt: How strange, how powerful it is!

It's source can be either: Heinous acts of destruction (murder) or acts or ideations of construction (sex) or anything that makes us feel "bad'.

Did the Ancient Greeks experience guilt? Most likely not.

In the caveman times, was guilt a prevalent emotion? Not likely.

Today almost every adult feels guilt from one source or another and our children are inheriting this crippling emotion as well.

Common sources of quilt:

i didn't separate out the metal cans from the newspapers,
I help pay for the next generation of Drones or the nuclear bomb dropped on civilians or
I killed a man because I was told to..........
I killed a man and I don't know why....
or did I dream it,
imagine it.


I want/crave a man's penis in my mouth.
I want to taste his semen
I want to get into that woman's pants
I want to live..........
without pain
and I can't.

I am guilty because I think about suicide all the time.
I think about masturbating, then I do it
to feel better
but it makes me feel guilty
which is worse.

I killed a man
I watched him die
I saw his blood
it was real,
I saw life flow from his limbs
I am guilty

I killed a child
he was running
i said
I think I said "stop"
but he didn't

I banged open the door
a private space
exposed:
A home
their home
my gun held just so
my fingers worked without thought
I am a killer
A hero

My flesh littered with tattoos
indisputable though revocable
evidence
I am guilty

Yet to be charged
I punish myself
everyday

I live in hell
in silence
in eternal
Agony

Freud said Americans substitute aggression for sex. What he meant is that the processes for guilt-formation and the struggles that this emotion poses are substantially confined to Aggressive acts in this country as opposed to the illness from sexual ideation experienced in the Europe of his lifetime.

Although I think this is changing what has happened is an entire industry propelled by an undertone of religious indignation that is infiltrating the "Women's liberation" movement; a worldwide prohibition against sexual strivings which is ever increasing in its visibility and its wealth of ideas, actions identified as worthy of reprimand/prohibition.

What happens, and we see/hear it in the news to the point that it no longer surprises even the most virtuous among us, is the very people who talk the talk do not act in accordance to the good 'clean" life.

They are and have always been the repressed but repression does not work. The repressed ideas become an energy block, like a huge onslaught of fast moving water stopped at the point of urgent egress it must find an outlet.

We block our human nature to conform to a pathological state of purity.

Into this mix of gratifying both the aggressive drive and the sexual drive is the ever growing sex trade, pornography and all those trigger words that makes a blog, a web page garner notice.

Is this a problem?

Or is pornography a solution, an answer to pathological fallout from War?

Should it be legalized along with Pot and Liquor and masturbation?

"Tell me, Daddy, what did you do in the army? What did you see?" are questions that are seldom answered and for good reason.

Although we know this, my point is that there is a relationship between this obvious omission of communication and the proliferation, the need for pornography to ease our pain.

That is the human condition, our living hell.

Our experience of ever increasing and more urgent feelings of quilt.

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