This is pretty, like a cathedral of light. Small things win battles.
“I don’t take no shit from no machine”
– So Many People
Of course people don’t take shit from machines. That would be the easiest way to say that we no longer controlled the machines, and that the machines had some stake in the control of the planet. Stupid…..such a stupid thing to think.
Well, it couldn’t bemore true. This isn’t much of a soapbox speech about downsizing electronic influence in your life as much as it is a plea for people to stop using the phrase. It isn’t pretty, it isn’t funny and it isn’t true.
We all take shit from machines. Even if you think about in in terms of freedom or the literal translation of the word, we all take something from our mechanized brethren. You have to live outside of the thought in order to not take anything from them, and being human marries you to your thought, so…..be married.
Suppose you are getting cash from an ATM. Taking the radical anti-capitalism stance that is in full vogue in most capitalist countries, you could say that taking money (total, self serving shit) from a machine (ATM, created to serve with no will of its own) is in fact taking shit from a machine.
Or you could be willing to look at it in way that would dance on the territory of the literal. Like mentioned in the scenario above, you could be entering in your PIN number in to the machine when you get a message that tells you an error has occurred and you will not be able to obtain what is rightfully yours because of some security/pain in the ass protocol. Knowing full well that you are you and that your PIN number is correct, you don’t understand why there is an error. Why won’t you be able to access this service that you pay for because of something that is background to the present foreground situation of you getting cash for a hooker or drugs or something else that doesn’t accept credit cards. If you ask anyone with half the sense that God gave them, they would in fact be taking shit (“An error has occurred”) from a machine (same ATM, this time apparently giving you an attitude).
So it is possible to get this kind of reaction from a machine that is only here to help you out. Think twice about the lame statements you make. Please just learn to be comfortable with the way life works and get on with it.
So there was this idea to write a post on ethical porno, but I guess not. Or maybe. Any day is a good time to talk about porno. It’s such a thing to talk about. It involves everyone. It involves the Vatican, mice, your mother, Japanese salarymen, the creeps on the trains, your girlfriend/boyfriend, you, your hand, your mind, and the great American dollar. Maybe porno is sprinkled throughout the world like a disease, figuring on the type of person you are and how you see it.
Porno is never mistaken for other things. At root, it’s pictures of people fucking, or looking like they would like to get fucked, or just got through fucking and need a kleenex for the glob on their face. Vulgar? Well, don’t look. Or look if you have to. This is where porno weaves itself into human existence. We look because we are physically linked to porno. Hormones in our bodies force us to think about sex, male and female, in some way or another.
And why not? Sex is good, sex is great, sex doesn’t complicate the world, it only brings the babies to the mother’s arms and well, that is really off track. Back to the subject at hand. Pun indented.
So porno, a la pictures of people fucking, is something that everyone knows about. Even if you don’t know about porno, you still know about it. There is no rule that states “Whomsoever sees porno for the first time will actually have the knowledge of people fucking, and therefore not know about it before they witness the materials beforehand.” This can be said in confidence.
I think most people know what they are about to see when they open that internet site (newer version of the outdated “porno mag”). Ignorance goes so far. Anticipation grips your body, fluids well up, again off track. You look at porno because you know what you would like to see, and you are taking actions to see it, therefore you are admitting (to yourself) that you know what is in store. The explicit material is unknown, but the subject, larger than smaller, is known.
And what about looking at something that is “softer” than something else. Being witness to “hardcore” can change people’s lives, push them towards a deviant (great people to date) lifestyle that scratches the itch they have had since realization at a young age. It can also bring nausea and cursing, Hail Marys, full of grace, to the lips. Again, off track, but the material speaks to the human race like nothing else.
So ethical porno is something that is surfacing. Something that I have been noticing in order to include certain people who didn’t fit into the niche of creeps and perverts that porno is typically associated with. Now, there are aids for blowjob, masturbation and breaking in a new bottom with love and respect (male and female). These are necessary for society to understand that porno is not just for trench coat clad “gentlemen” cruising in and out of clandestine book shops or teenagers buying Richard Kern photography books to take home and study privately.
It’s an easy way for unnoticed groups to display their affections on film, educating, spreading (pun) a lexicon, hipping the crowd to not ask the stupid questions attached to ignorance. Good, but the label of porno is something that the educational materials will never be able to escape. Zizek said that it is impossible to escape a movement you are accosted with, even if you oppose the movement wholly. You have to give in and live through the experience to overcome it. Porno offers such a conundrum.
But all will accept these materials as porno, and the creeps will continue to buy them, funding more endeavors by the fringe to educate about how they fuck and why they fuck and how they feel about people taking pictures of them doing it. So the cycle will continue.
End of Line
So now I have something to do besides just go to work and go home everyday. Dreaming in school, I was hung up on just doing whatever I had to do to make it into a job and then life was easy. Make zillions of dollars, if that is an attainable number, keep in line with my opinions of things, hide all of the money I made, and then sneak off to a nice quiet place that I could actually afford to travel to. No more seat of the pants living. I was getting to old for that nonsense.
After graduation, I entered the workforce with a thud. Got a job, failed to realize that my grim attitude wasn’t going to win me the affections of the secretarial pool, lost said job. During my failure at big company work, I was reading Truman Capote’s masterpiece, “In Cold Blood.” There was a character contained in the book, a young character named Perry, that I realized I fell in line with. Although I was older than the character , I got the idea he had the same weird attitude about the world and who owed him what. Chuckling and “a-haing” in my seat, people on the afternoon train probably thought I was one of the blasted out degenerates that raped reality with their loose grip on the rules. It makes sense to me.
Then what I had wasn’t anymore.
I am sitting on a bicycle now; a fetish, a lifestyle and a fucking memory from childhood. This, I am grateful for. The feeling of uselessness is not something I am fond of, but it comes in waves like nausea, and I can ignore it when it is around. I am used to being whipped by someone in an office, over the phone; used to the condescending looks for a jobs that I didn’t complete. So what do I do? How do I live without the thing that made me feel normal over the last 18 years of my life?
A job is something that I have maintained, even when life was difficult and I could have taken a break from working to do other things. I traveled, but still managed to do things in the bizarre places I ended up. Even for pennies, I did things to feel normal.
A worker, a drone, an ant; this is what happened to me. I guess it’s not all that bad. It won’t lift me up, I can’t speak negatively about it for too long of a time without feeling like I’m burning down a building that I’m unwilling to leave. Having a steady job is just that, steady, and like health, vision, hearing, food, water, sex and warmth, “steady” is just what people need, whether they understand it or not.
So I am riding my bike in this race, winning a little bit, my troubles lost in the hum of the wheels turning around me. So much of life is like bicycle racing. You can’t get lost if you follow the course, you have to do what is acceptable, and there are rules to be followed because you aren’t actually in charge of anything. Pedal hard, keep up and it will be all over soon.