Friday, December 30, 2005

The pain we carry inside

War hit my family hard. I grew up hearing the stories of the camps. I grew up thinking the camps were fun! Mommy always had a funny or cute story about her childhood in the barracks. How each day one of the children was allowed to lick off my grandmothers plate. (She still does that and I hate it.) My grandmother told my mother everyday that the soldiers had eyes in the back of their heads, so the kids wouldn't make faces at them. (Of course mommy went and investigated this outrageous claim.)
Not a year ago, my mom called me up. After a couple of minutes of smalltalk she used another wartime story to illustrate her point. I interrupted her: "Mom, you make it sound like summercamp. But it must have been horrible too."
There was a pause. A silence. In the distance I heard a little girls sob and the connection was broken.
If I remember correctly, I sat down, lit another cigarette, changed my mind and got in my car. It takes me about 20 minutes to drive over to her place. I didn't ring. Used my key to enter. She was half sitting, half lying in the center of the livingroom floor. Her face was a demons mask. Completely red, bloated and covered in tears and snot. Her mouth open in a silent scream. She was shivering. Trying to stop the tidal wave of 50 years of repressed pain from rushing out of her.
I sat down beside her. No touching. We don't touch. Silent.
It took her a long time to form the sentence. She had to force the words out of her mouth one by one. An excrutiating sight. The fight between the mute hurt-incarnate and my mother, living side by side in that frail 60 year old body. Never meeting, never speaking.
When the last word came out she relaxed. I helped her up. She apologized and went to her kitchen to cook for me.
She had just told me what I already knew. A message she had transmitted in her behavior over and over again during my childhood.

"I saw them beat the women to death."

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Ode to Freud

I just realized something horrible. There are thousands and thousands of women out there that have never had an orgasm.
Let's all take a moment to let that awful truth sink in. Hundreds of thousands of women that never had an orgasm. Makes you wander doesn't it? Makes you wonder why I am writing this stupid blog when I could be teaching some poor tart the meaning of multiples. Makes you wonder when you're riding the bus to work. The woman sitting next to you may never have had an orgasm. And you could give it to her. Makes you wonder when you're having a job interview. The perky blonde asking you the questions might never have had a good orgasm in her life. And you are equipped with the tools and stamina to make her scream. (That is, if you are a member of the superior sex.)
Why in heavens name do we make life so bloody complicated. We've got all these unwritten laws, rituals and taboos to keep our raw sexuality from exploding into the outer world. What the fuck is wrong with us? We have all these nasty little urges that we try to surpress all the time. To be honest, I, and probably 50% of the worlds population, spend 98% of our time and energy on NOT being sexual. And what for? So the other 50% of us can feel frustrated for never having had a good boing-boing?

I'm a guy. I think about sex all the time. As do other guys. If ever a man tells you different, he's probably trying to get you into bed. I gave up no-thinking-about-sex as a futile enterprise. Believe me even Einsteins relativity theory is nothing but an elaborate scheme to get some pussy.

The other day I was enjoying a beer with a pretty confused chick. She told me (with dreamy eyes) that she wanted to have a "tantric" relationship with her boyfriend. (sidenote: having lived in India for so long, I'm always surprised and not a little irritated at the ignorance of most Europeans of Tantra. Tantra is not about sex bitch. Yes, there is a minor part of it that concerns the exchange of bodily fluids. But there's also a section about that in my dictionary. You don't see me wanking off with the G-H volume. (I use the mailorder catalogue for that.)
"What the fuck do you mean 'Tantric relationship'".
"It's the sort of relationship where everything gets turned into a sexual thing."
Right! She wanted to be a guy.
She probably never had an orgasm too.

I am Han Solo

how jedi are you?
:: by lawrie malen

I knew that.

Which "Saved By The Bell" Character Are You?

(Well..... Had I answered the questions honestly I'd have probably turned out to be screech.)

The Movie Of Your Life Is Film Noir

So what if you're a little nihilistic at times?
Life with meaning is highly over-rated.

Your best movie matches: Sin City, L. A. Confidential, Blade Runner

Blade runner happens to be my favorite movie.