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Posts Tagged ‘sex’

Procreation, Pleasure, Pain, Passing away…  Sex and death are entirely connected, yet so divorced from each other in how we perceive them.  Or should I say, our Western society chooses not to connect them.  Ever.  Now that I think of it, “we” are uncomfortable speaking about both sex and death, even separately.  Sex ed, STDs, terminal illnesses, school shootings, the afterlife, bodies…  Uncomfortable creepy crawly conversations.  Taboos.  For such an “advanced” age, it’s no wonder there are so many problems.  Why have I chosen this as a topic for a blog post?  It’s one of those convergence of things that I came across in the last couple days, along with stuff I have thought about for ages.  Now… I wrote too long a blog post last week.  I’m prone to this.  So instead of writing voluminously, I’m just going to post links and photos and videos.  Let’s see if you all can connect the dots.  Or at least enjoy this seemingly meaningless set of things I’m presenting.  At least sex and death, as topics, can be pretty…interesting…on their own.  Enjoy your mortality, folks!

Your Friendly Neighborhood Mortician

Caitlin Doughty went to the University of Chicago right after I did, and through mutual theater acquaintances on facebook, I came across her website, The Order of the Good Death, and her incredibly funny and informative videos.  Her mission: to bring back mortality into daily life.

Fuck the Pain Away

Your friendly post-feminist ultra out-there rocker, Peaches,writes and plays the instruments and performs all her own work.  I think it’s brilliant.  Years ago I created a performance piece that some of you may have seen in Chicago entitled Inventing Eve.  We closed with “I’m the Kinda“.  Here’s her breakthrough song, “Fuck the Pain Away.”

Alien Diseases in Deep Space 

In the season 5 Star Trek Voyager episode “Disease,” love is likened to a disease. Young Ensign Harry Kim has sex with a gorgeous alien and develops a biochemical bond.  His skins starts to glow and everything, and leaving the alien causes him to suffer lots and lots of aches and pains, and could be potentially fatal to him.  Here’s the “dramatic” trailer.  Oooh, steamy!

Send Your Remains to Outer Space – FOR REAL

I’ve been researching ways of disposing bodies. Why?  Watching Caitlyn’s videos got me thinking seriously about how I want to be disposed of.  Yes, this is going to sound a lot like “what I want to be when I grow up,” but instead is, “what I want to be after I die.” So, after I donate as many organs as possible, I want to donate my body to “science,” and after they’re done with me, there’s a sort of “green” chemical liquification sort of alternative to cremation they’re doing in England, and then I want my remains sent out to space.  Yes, space, as in outer space!  For a few small thousands, they will fly a few ounces of your cremated remains on a rocket into space.  I MUST do this.  Check out this amazing company Celestis.  They really ham it up – each launch has it’s own “mission” name, like “The New Frontier Flight,” and they call the dead, “The Participants.”  There are several options, an orbital flight, a return flight, a deep space flight, and even a final resting place on the moon!  If I can’t get there while I’m alive, I might as well get there when I’m dead.  Lots of famous people have done it, Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry, his wife, actress Majel Barrett,  a few Star Trek actors and astronauts, and lots of ordinary people ride alongside them.

I can’t help but think about the ramifications of sending human remains into space.  I know that ashes have no remaining DNA.  But I can’t help but think of this Star Trek TNG episode “The Chase,” where the crew of the Enterprise is in a race with other alien species to solve a genetic puzzle.  Some sort of algorithm was imprinted in the DNA of many species of aliens, a result of a very advanced species who were alone in the galaxy who scattered their DNA among many planets.  I’d like to imagine my DNA bringing life to other planets.  See this moving video clip:

So I ended up writing a lot.  So what.  I hope you enjoyed the videos.

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Georges Brassens

I’ve not been able to write, and I’m still so stressed, I don’t really know how I manage to stay upright (most of the time).  But as I’ve been getting some adamant requests for more posts, I’ve decided to share some easy favorites of mine.  Videos, links, juicy awesome things to laugh and revel over.  Enjoy this video.  Yes, it’s in French, but the translation is below (it’s line by line so you can follow along), and it came from this truly unique Brassens in translation website.  The singer is the unbelievably beautiful and somewhat talented Carla Bruni, former model, now the first lady of France.  All you really need to know is that this song is by the legendary Georges Brassens, it’s considered so lewd it was banned (and is still banned) from the radio, and the verb “bander” means “to have or to get an erection.”  If you know any French at all, do not use this word in conversation.  It’s very vulgar.  Of course, it also means “to bandage,” so, you know, unless you’re a nurse or something, be careful.

Fernande
Une manie de vieux garçon,
Strange habit of an old bachelor
Moi, j’ai pris l’habitude
I have got into the way
D’agrémenter ma solitude
Of spicing up my loneliness
Aux accents de cette chanson:
With the accents of this song

Quand je pense à Fernande
When I think of Fernande
Je bande, je bande,
It’s so hard, It’s so hard,
Quand j’ pense à Félicie
When I think of Félicie
Je bande aussi,
It’s hard as well,
Quand j’ pense à Léonore,
When I think of Léonora
Mon Dieu, je bande encore
Good Lord, it’s hard once more
Mais quand j’ pense à Lulu,
But when I think of Lulu
Là, je ne bande plus.
There, it is hard no more
La bandaison, papa,
An erection papa,
Ça n’ se commande pas.
Decides things for itself.

C’est cette mâle ritournelle,
It is this popular male refrain
Cette antienne virile,
This long-time virile chant
Qui retentit dans la guérite
Which rings out from the sentry box
De la vaillante sentinelle:
Of the valiant guard on sentry duty

Quand je pense à Fernande
When I think of Fernande
Je bande, je bande,
It’s so hard, It’s so hard,
Quand j’ pense à Félicie
When I think of Félicie
Je bande aussi,
It’s hard as well,
Quand j’ pense à Léonore,
When I think of Léonora
Mon Dieu, je bande encore
Good Lord, it’s hard once more
Mais quand j’ pense à Lulu,
But when I think of Lulu
Là, je ne bande plus.
There, it is hard no more
La bandaison, papa,
An erection papa,
Ça n’ se commande pas.
Decides things for itself.

Afin de tromper son cafard,
In order to beat his boredom
De voir la vie moins terne,
To see his life less gloomily
Tout en veillant sur sa lanterne,
While tending to his lamp
Chante ainsi le gardien de phare:
The lighthousekeeper sings out like this.

Quand je pense à Fernande
When I think of Fernande
Je bande, je bande,
It’s so hard, It’s so hard,
Quand j’ pense à Félicie
When I think of Félicie
Je bande aussi,
It’s hard as well,
Quand j’ pense à Léonore,
When I think of Léonora
Mon Dieu, je bande encore
Good Lord, it’s hard once more
Mais quand j’ pense à Lulu,
But when I think of Lulu
Là, je ne bande plus.
There, it is hard no more
La bandaison, papa,
An erection papa,
Ça n’ se commande pas.
Decides things for itself.

Après la prière du soir,
After evening prayers
Comme il est un peu triste,
As he is a little sad
Chante ainsi le séminariste
The trainee priest sings out like this
À genoux sur son reposoir:
Kneeling at his altar

Quand je pense à Fernande
When I think of Fernande
Je bande, je bande,
It’s so hard, It’s so hard,
Quand j’ pense à Félicie
When I think of Félicie
Je bande aussi,
It’s hard as well,
Quand j’ pense à Léonore,
When I think of Léonora
Mon Dieu, je bande encore
Good Lord, it’s hard once more
Mais quand j’ pense à Lulu,
But when I think of Lulu
Là, je ne bande plus.
There, it is hard no more
La bandaison, papa,
An erection papa,
Ça n’ se commande pas.
Decides things for itself.

À l’Étoile où j’étais venu
On the Place de l’Étoile where I had come to
Pour ranimer la flamme,
In order to revive the flame
J’entendis ému jusqu’aux larmes
I heard moved to tears
La voix du Soldat Inconnu:
The voice of the unknown soldier :

Quand je pense à Fernande
When I think of Fernande
Je bande, je bande,
It’s so hard, It’s so hard,
Quand j’ pense à Félicie
When I think of Félicie
Je bande aussi,
It’s hard as well,
Quand j’ pense à Léonore,
When I think of Léonora
Mon Dieu, je bande encore
Good Lord, it’s hard once more
Mais quand j’ pense à Lulu,
But when I think of Lulu
Là, je ne bande plus.
There, it is hard no more
La bandaison, papa,
An erection papa,
Ça n’ se commande pas.
Decides things for itself.

Et je vais mettre un point final
And I am going to bring to an end
À ce chant salutaire,
This salutary song
En suggérant aux solitaires
By suggesting to lonely people
D’en faire un hymne national.
To turn it into a national anthem

Quand je pense à Fernande
When I think of Fernande
Je bande, je bande,
It’s so hard, It’s so hard,
Quand j’ pense à Félicie
When I think of Félicie
Je bande aussi,
It’s hard as well,
Quand j’ pense à Léonore,
When I think of Léonora
Mon Dieu, je bande encore
Good Lord, it’s hard once more
Mais quand j’ pense à Lulu,
But when I think of Lulu
Là, je ne bande plus.
There, it is hard no more
La bandaison, papa,
An erection papa,
Ça n’ se commande pas.
Decides things for itself.

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Can men and women be friends, or does the sex thing always get in the way?  This topic has been on my mind of late.  A lot on my mind.  I have male friends.  For the first time in my life I realize that I actually have quite a few male friends.  With some we’ve dated and then become friends.  With others, we’re  just friends.  That said, I cannot say that these are the most angst-free relationships.  I know that on some level, way down deep (even suppressed/repressed) or just beneath the surface, one party or the other wants to have sex.  Or have some sort of “romantic” or emotional connection, as women probably more often view it.  If anything, this unspoken (or sometimes even spoken) desire dictates power dynamics.  The only exception I can think of is that where age difference plays a factor, where a parent-child dynamic can be created.

I try to convince myself that this isn’t true.  Certainly gay men and straight women have formed wonderful relationships — perhaps because there is no possibility of sex.  Then again, you sometimes see that “unrequited” situation forming when, even though she knows it’s impossible, the woman develops romantic feelings for the gay friend.  Same with straight men and gay women, I would think.

But I ask myself about gay people themselves – can a gay man be friends with another gay man without — wanting something?  Or lesbians with other lesbians?  Or a gay man with a with a straight man, or a gay woman with a straight woman.  Perhaps the only healthy friendships are straight women and straight women, straight men and straight men, and gay men with gay women.  No desire whatsoever.

Makes me sad, somehow.  Are we this petty?  Base?  Led through life by our loins?  I really value my relationships with my male friends.  I adore them.   Having friends who are very different from us enriches our lives, just like befriending people of other cultures.  Opens our eyes, broadens our perspective.  Our relationships are the threads that together make up the fabric by which we identify ourselves and approach the world.  The fewer the colors and textures, the simpler and duller the cloth.   The more colors, textures, materials, and the more threads themselves, the more elaborate, beautiful, and large the blanket becomes that enfolds us.

Is repression the way?  Is being open about our desire and agreeing to not act upon it the way?  Should it remain unsaid?  Is the unspoken norm an important factor by which we have kept our society running?

Is this even true?  Am I jaded?  Opinions?

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