Interview

" 'By far, the most widespread criticism of your career, has been your lack of belief in happy and complete endings' He took a pause, fiddling with the tiny speck of dirt under his left thumbnail. 'Well it isn't necessarily a lack of belief in happy endings, but a matter of irrelevancy. The end is the end, whether it be positive, negative, complete or incomplete is quite irrelevant. I'm a realist...that is what they call me? Isn't it?' 'Yes, you have been called that.' 'Being a realist, you have to be a touch mad, and far too intelligent for your own well being, we saw that in Hemingway, in Bukowski. What were their lives?' Fiddling with his tie pin, the interviewer became nervous, almost out of his depth, after a glance at the recording camera...'Traumatic would be an appropriate word I suppose' 'As has mine. Being a realist, as the pundits like to call us, isn't something you can convert too or believe in. You're chosen, by who gives a shit what, and it is beaten into you. The curse of realism is beaten into your head by each and every trauma you endure and prevail through" A coughing fit interrupted his monologue, bringing a ragged handkerchief to his mouth the weathered man shook with every expectorant heave. Breathing deeply he continued. 'Bukowski, Hemingway, according to the critics, even myself, see what boys like you can never see. The troubles of the world will never weigh your mind, or your soul. The complete pain and irrelevancy of it all will never grasp you by the shirt and cough it's shit into your face.' The interviewer made a quick motion with his right hand for the camera to stop recording and a sense of relief overcame his face as he spoke. 'Well Mister..' the frail old man cut him off 'It isn't all bad though you know. With every curse, comes a blessing. Those kisses you give your wife and child that repeat themselves into meaninglessness, the twelve dollar cups of coffee you drink, and that fancy tie pin you can't keep your fucking hands off of. I suppose there are two blessings, the first being that while each of those means nothing to you, such a moment as kissing a beloved will resound far more in the chasms of my heart than in the dense corridors of your brain, secondly...that you turned the cameras off.' The frail weathered man in his tweed suit reached into his tweed jacket..."

Blowbang

With the emergence of the internet in concurrence with the puberty of my generation came the explosion of pornography. While previous generations sneaked glances at their father's playboys, or the magazines circulated around social circles, my generation used Lime Wire and the internet, to download naked pictures, videos, audio files. At twelve years old, rather than looking at still images, I exposed myself to explicit pornography. An irrelevant, past fact, from this fact we could direct this discussion towards the difficulties of parenting a generation of tremendous changes in society, but more so, due to recent event I'll guide this post towards the difficulty and effects of pornography on monogamous relationships. Particularly from the male perspective.

Pornography, at a minimum, on the subconscious level envelops men, at a young age, with unrealistic sexual expectations. Whether it be fetishes of group sex, the sexual aggression or god-forbid rape scenarios, the medium of the internet has allowed men to discover, what generations ago would of been unrealized sexual desires. Which is not necessarily a negative fact, however the key interaction is how these realized sexual desires, whether it be public humiliation or transvestites, come into the realm of play in a monogamous relationship.

I do realize pornography can be used as an effective and healthy tool in sexual relationships, I don't dispute that. Men can use it to show their partners positions, methods, etc. Some may find it more comfortable to simply show their partner, rather than explain. Also obviously, it can be used for stimulation if the pornography is suitable to both individuals. However the key focal point of the positive aspects of pornography in relationships is that it encourages sexual communication between partners.

Pornography does and can bring difficulties. Especially when the subject matter is discovered on a partners computer. By the age of, say 25, a man who has been exposed to pornography since the age of puberty may not be aroused in a masturbatory setting by a simple male-female "plain jane" pornographic scene. The progression of arousal may move from still images, to video, to any number of fetishes or desires, however in the instance of discovery, for example my girlfriend discovered fetish porn on my computer, it is vital that she understands one key fact. Women must be able to identify if their male partners can separate fantasy from reality, and if and when their partners want the two to collide. With that stated, it comes full circle back to communication, this time in a negative sense. When a man, of whatever history, not just my own Childhood Sexual Abuse, is discovered in terms of his deepest sexual desires it is important that he is not judged. Whether it be accepted, rejected, embraced or politely dismissed it is important that the conversation concludes with a respect for your partners desires and emotional well being. A man will be disappointed, possibly angry, if his wife refuses to try bondage or anal sex, but he will be ashamed, and hurt if she judges him for those desires.

Scalpels are a Cutter's Wet Dream.

I haven't posted in a while, close to two months. My reasons are various and quite irrelevant. I've thought about discussing many different subjects, the 2nd Amendment, the issue of Abortion and Stem Cell research, and quite a few others.

The winning votes of my last poll, all 6 of them, were to discuss Iraq/PTSD and Anxiety. To a degree, I will.

The week has been quite the colossal meltdown for me, and the reasons have been both personal and my past.I prefer, to not discuss the personal aspects today, but more so the past. I've yet to locate a specific trigger, but the past two weeks have been sleep deprived, anxious, nerve racking.  It is...the association between sleep deprivation and everything else that is the focal point of my symptomatic struggle. You sleep too much....you fall in REM sleep and have vivid nightmares of your abuse, atrocities, guilt riddled illogical scenarios. Too little...and you wander through your day irritable and in a haze, clinging to sanity until the duty day is over and you can express every emotion into a a cup of your preferred alcoholic beverage or other method of self destruction. So as I've bounded between these two states of dysfunction my supportive kindred have berated me about "taking care of myself" and the streak of self destructive behavior.

I have a negative self image of myself, for whatever reason, most likely my Childhood Sexual Abuse, and while I have improved in terms of self-confidence related to my job and professional life, I still struggle with one important aspect, personal confidence. So as I stumble, be it successfully and at a high-functioning level, I view myself as the Soviet Convict Battalions of WW2. Used by individuals as stop-gap measures, temporary fixes, fill the line, bridge the gap, and stop the pain, the pressure, regardless of the cost.

Do the most good, for the most people, before time runs out, regardless of what it may cost personally. For the privilege to say you left the world a little better, than you found it.