The Rebellious Imperatives of the Self

It’s incredible. You wake up in the morning determined to go and write a blog about a specific and important issue and suddenly you find yourself opening the newspaper and discovering an article that directs you in a completely different direction.

Such was the case today. There was me ready to blog about some really important things happening in our world, and I came across this piece, written by Christopher Turner on the life and works of one Willhelm Reich.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/jul/08/wilhelm-reich-free-love-orgasmatron

It’s not a short article either, and once more, may we thank the Guardian newspaper for bothering to produce such a thing. As one comment states, this article raises more questions than answers. But isn’t that precisely what journalism these days should be doing? It is not just about presenting facts. It is about stretching one’s mind, considering philosophies of past, present and future and, in the case as well as others, about how we can- as individuals and as a collective, look at the core values and purposes of society.

And where better to start on such a task as to look at sex.

Sex is so important that we have almost made it into something destructive due to our inability to actually come to terms with its real significance in life. Because essentially, we know it is significant and we know it is good for us. In realising this I think we are sometimes terrified of the enormity of it, and maybe society has shied away from the overwhelming power of sex because in its very nature it is possibly the most powerful thing in the world.

At the point when there is a dawning of sexual liberation, those in power get shit scared because subliminally or overtly, they know that nothing is more powerful than sex and they are terrified of the autonomy that positive and embracing sex may provide. This leads to suppression of sex and sexuality that in turn creates the sort of havoc that those in power actually rather like because it is something that they can control.

Actually, as a sex writer (she says somewhat grandly about herself) these sorts of articles are manna from heaven because it sends me off into all sorts of interconnected thoughts about what sex actually is, and the politics of sex is fascinating. Yet, we have hardly scratched the surface to see what effect sex and the suppression of sex has on our society. We spend plenty of time discussion the sexualisation of society but do very little to look at the more positive approach of sexual politics being the ultimate liberation of the people.

This is probably too complicated to try and tackle in one small blog so I shall probably return to it throughout my writing, but I am genuinely intrigued by the enormity of this subject and how little we have moved forward since Willhelm Reich’s work and the sexual revolution of the 1960s which could appear like a tea party once the real Age of Aquarius is upon us.

And in order to embrace the dawning of the new world, sex and its significance has to be at the forefront, just as Reich had stated in the middle part of the last century.

I don’t even know where to start with this one but I am just going to go with the flow and see what happens.

Once upon a time when we were just losing the hair off our Neanderthal backs, humans probably had a lot of sex. They probably had sex as naturally as they stalked off into the countryside to catch food for their hungry bellies. They probably had sex as naturally as needing to sleep. And according to research, they probably had sex with lots of different people; as a natural form of communicating when language was yet fully formed. These people, our ancestors, were highly unlikely to be monogamous.

Then along came a few little problems. One man wanted to feel more secure. One woman wanted to feel less hungry, so small units were formed to create the sort of stability that people desired. If a man killed a wildebeest, the woman might think she was going to be better fed by him than the man who was still hunting squirrels. So she would provide more sexual communication with this mate than the other. Eventually wealth from buying and selling became the norm and the first sight of capitalism was born with the added extra of possession and therefore possessiveness. Families emerged and so too did the monogamous form of living that we still apparently adhere to and aspire to today.

Sex itself became a bargaining tool. Added to this there was the old Darwinian issue of the survival of the fittest. The humans became somewhat choosy in their mating and sex became the means to greater success, greater riches and allegedly better offspring.

As time progressed and the viability of family units was seen as the only way to live life, sex became associated with intimacy (and economy) rather than its most natural instinctual form of physical expression.

Once this society was established, what happened to sex?

It became imprisoned in the socio-economic stability and soon it was finding itself hidden in secrecy along with the bodies that were now covered from view. With such intimacy and possessiveness, sex changed and was no longer the natural act that you could freely do with anyone you happened to fancy. And with that suppression came all sorts of other problems because ultimately man and woman could not lose that natural instinct. Ultimately, there was almost a natural disorder in chaining sex down and associating it directly with that possession and ownership.

Please note, I know I am being somewhat simplistic here but bear with me.

Jump along some centuries, and humans suddenly found themselves in a situation where sex was only supposed to happen between two people in a loving relationship. Its physical necessity was restricted. Once coupledom had been created, the thought of one’s partner being sexually intimate with another was abhorrent, and yet infidelities continued and will always continue until we realise the power of sex and its place in the natural order of things.

And then we conditioned ourselves to this way of thinking. Furthermore, possibly because as a society and individuals within we were constantly reminded about our duty to perform coupledom, we decided that sex was naughty and rude and shouldn’t be discussed. And why was this? Because anything else, any other decision would have opened a Pandora’s Box and absolute anarchy may prevail. If we were sexually liberated to have sex as and when we chose, the economic stability of society could come tumbling down purely because we had created this unnatural environment for living along with the destructive emotions that were at the heart of maintaining this madness of unnatural life.

Suppressing sex in this way and demonising it meant that we could pretend it was a bad thing even though we all knew and indeed practiced within coupledom (!) sexual acts that we knew were beneficial to our souls, our minds, our bodies.

It is like an ultimate irony.

We created this society. We were the ones who put sex in the wrong place.
Now here is something that is possibly a little contentious but needs to be considered. We bang on and on about the sexualisation of society these days and we laud any attempts by people to continue in their prudish manner but isn’t it possible that the sexualisation of society is an subliminal attempt to get back to basics, to return sex to its status as one of the main instinctual actions in life; flight, fight, fuck – along with sleep, eat, drink?

And yet we still cannot see it.

Please be assured, I am not advocating inappropriate sexualisation here but as I have said before, why do capitalists use sexual imagery to sell their products? Because it helps to sell whatever they are trying to burden us with. And why does it help to sell them? Because we are essentially sexual beings who have learned to suppress their sexuality and given an opportunity to associate a certain car, for instance, with a sexy blond draped across it, gives us a little pleasure and therefore we buy the product. Because we ARE sexual.

Too simple I know, but again, bear with me.

Let’s look briefly at the porn industry. It is so popular because people want to look at wonderful bodies. The may be getting the best sex that they have experienced in their lives but this does not prevent them wanting to look at others. Why? Because we are sexual beings. It is our instinctive nature to want to explore sex. The savvies in this industry know this, just as Reich and Kinsey had known before them. WE ARE SEXUAL BEINGS.

The whole suppression of sexuality has made an entire industry; the biggest on the internet if you look at certain figures. And still, with all this mass of evidence, we cannot admit to being sexual people for fear of being called a freak or a pervert just because we like sex.

The politicians scream about the appalling industry of porn without realising that it is the development of society and the suppression of the natural way that has caused this industry to profit so effectively.

Looking now at relationships and we are seriously fucked, without a single cock going anywhere near a juicy pussy. This unnatural order has been embedded for so many years that even those of us who are slightly more enlightened than most still have this gut-wrenching feeling as soon as we know or think that our ‘partner’ has slept with or had sex with another person because we have come to be conditioned to think that sex and intimacy and partnership and love are all safely and carefully enmeshed together, and this feels threatening to us, to our intimacy and sex and partnership etcetera. We are well and truly fucked unless we can break free from this, and the societal politics of sex is doing nothing to help us.

I know. I am there right at this moment in time. And I hate it, and I hate being there.

Sex should be about the physical joy of communicating amorous feelings. It should not be about all the other things, though there is clearly an issue here because it should be about all of these things as well (apart from the possessiveness) as sex is far, far more wonderful when it happens with somebody that you adore and care for.

And therefore, it should be perfectly normal to have sex with people that you like and for it not to be an issue for the other important people in your life. This is as it should be and yet we are so conditioned into the existing economy and politics of sex that we are driven to all manner of destructive emotions in trying to contain the uncontainable, if the natural order of things are to be assumed.

There is every possibility that Willhelm Reich was just a madman and that his Orgone theory was totally insane, but I cannot dismiss him as such. We know, we all know what good sex does for us. We know how we feel, how free and liberated we feel when sex and the relationship with the one that you are having sex with is bloody wonderful, so how would society benefit from finally casting aside all that imposed conditioning about sex and we looked at it in its truest form of the instinctual act as the dominant force?

Sexualisation and the politics of it somehow seem to work in favour of the politicians and the powers in society. It diverts thought from the real issue of sexual empowerment and freedom. If we are all caught up in the inappropriateness of sex, we don’t have to consider the inappropriateness of sexual confinement and we don’t have to concern ourselves with the empowering nature of sex that could possibly change society to the point where those in power have less influence.

Reich’s Orgone theory is one thing. I happen to think that there is something in the power of this omnipresent force. Whether it could be captured in a wood and tin box is another matter but there is certainly a force about sexuality that has to be to the good of all people if only there were less hang ups about the act of sex itself.

However, we should not dismiss the essence of Reich’s work as the mad rantings of an insane and quirky man. What he was trying to do was address the whole issue of sexual politics and make people realise that if we are ever to be free we need to have an enormous cultural, spiritual, moral, political and social shift in our views on sex.

There could be a million mini-revolutions with power returning to the hands of the people, but if we still maintain the constraints associated with monogamous sexual activity, then no manner of political and economic freedom will make us truly free. As Reich says, we need to overthrow sexual repression and we cannot possibly have the freedom that so many of us desire until we have done so.

Getting back to my own situation, it is all very well living a polyamorous existence but it is never just about two people and about their theories and expectations. It is not just me that is conditioned. Others are too. And there is a strong possibility that if one person has sex with another person or sleeps with another person, then assumptions as to the nature of the friendship or relationship ensue. It should not be that way but that is how we are conditioned; into thinking that the giving of oneself sexually is the ultimate act of togetherness or communication or intimacy when in actual fact it is nothing of the kind.

I actually do aspire to a polyamorous existence for all but until that happens, it feels as though the pockets of it in society cannot operate effectively because not everyone within fully appreciates the politics of sex or the extent to which they have been conditioned, even subliminally to see sex as some sort of commitment.

People are fascinated with sex for a reason, for a multitude of reasons. It is a fascinating subject and not just merely for the physical and emotional aspects.

Sex is life-giving and I really think that there is some Orwellian force going on here.

If we open our eyes we know that the natural high of sex could be the most liberating force that has ever existed, and quite frankly, I reckon that the powers that be are utterly terrified of the prospect of such liberation that would put the political revolutions of the previous century into insignificance.

Reich knew this which is probably why, with my conspiracy theory hat on, that they spent so much money in prosecuting and imprisoning him.

I wonder whether we really are on the verge of a brave new order which readdresses the true nature of sex. I wonder if, one day, the likes of Willhelm Reich and his appreciative followers will be seen as the greatest thinkers, politicians and philosophers of our time for having the foresight to see the suppression of sex for what it really is and the power of sex for what it really could be.

The Importance of Smell amongst other things

Beauty is apparently in the eye of the beholder, according to the most famous phrase but apparently sex is in the nose of the lover, according to the Sex Researchers Part Two. The programme was looking at ways to improve our sexual performance and they looked at whether sex could be improved by using your head – techniques etcetera, by taking little blue pills or by thinking about sex, using the most sexual organ of the body – the brain.

Well, clearly as with most things, it is a mixture of all of these things.

Sex is complicated. It is not a single entity. It is not about one single thing. It is not even about two or even three things, which is why I have struggled recently with the old polyamory. Sex is not just about sticking a cock in a cunt. It is about much, much more.
Of course, there are times when it can be just that but I don’t think anyone who wants to experience sex in a positive way can possibly say it is just that. Not only that, whilst some people might even see a fuck as just a simple form of friendship, others interpret this as a commitment, especially if it is a regular event, whereas in actual fact it could be nothing of the sort. Or indeed it may be. Who knows – that is the point because as I said, sex is complicated and because its complexities are rarely discussed between people having sex together, these sorts of issues are never tackled and assumptions one way or the other are made.

Nobody should assume that their view about sex and about engaging in sexual activity is the same as another person’s.

So yes, if sex was just about a physical act, it could be addressed and improved by whole-hearted research and reading of the Karma Sutra, for instance or the “Joy of Sex” and I am sure that there could be some extremely enjoyable sexual experiences in this recreational sort of togetherness.

Not for me though, not now at any rate.

But sex is SO much about the mind, not only in the actual act of copulation but the before, the after and the complications and delights of the emotions that come with this integral part of our lives.

There is no way that you can possibly detach sex from the mind, not if you are going to experience the very best of sex, not if you are going to embrace the true brilliance of the sexual experience.

But it is not just about the physical and the mental. It is not just about positive emotions; there are negative ones too. It is not just about the senses. It is about the feelings, the sensuality, the divine as well.

It is not just about one thing.

Today, I was going to write about the senses involved in sex but I have already done that.

http://zenpuss.blogspot.com/2009/03/sense-of-sex.html

Do have a re-read or a read if you are new to all of this.

However, I would like to spend a little time reiterating the importance of that sense of smell.

“Lovely, I have the smell of lavender on one hand and pussy on the other” said my lover yesterday. What a perfect delight for the first Saturday in July, walking down the street sniffing the true delights of nature. I get a real kick out of the fact that there are times when he will not wash his hands after they have been up my cunt, and I am talking whole hands here. I get a naughty little kick at the prospect of him going into a shop and someone getting a whiff of my cunt as he passes by. I rather like the idea of him shaking hands with people that he meets with my pussy juices lingering on his fingers who have so recently walked their way all the way to the opening of my uterus.
Lovely!

But the smell! Why is it so important and why is it that people do not embrace the smell of sexuality more?

The other day, I had had another profuse eruption of pussy juices all over the kitchen floor. Pushing my panties aside, I straddled a chair with my arse faced towards my lover, who lent over and finger fucked me to my personal fountain. We delighted with our eyes at what was pouring out of me, we revelled in the amazing sense of touch as our body parts connected with rampant and needed sex. We heard one another’s moans of delight and occasional words of encouragement and affection, and as we withdrew from one another, as I pulled my panties back into place, we sniffed the air and realised that the entire room was filled with the glorious smell of sex.

Filling an entire room with the smell of sex is actually terribly exciting, even if you have to get rid of it relatively quickly to ensure the comfort of others who are sharing the house. I mean, it could be a little off-putting to march into a kitchen in order to get a drink and walk in on the most arousing and obvious of smells, particularly if you are not getting any too regularly!

But we do not embrace this part of sex very often, and yet according to the Sex Researchers, it genuinely is such an important part of the whole experience, right from “choosing a mate” through the sense of smell rather than the eye of the beholder.

There is an essence out there on the Internet called Vulva.

http://www.vulva-original.com/vulva-perfume.htm

I really, really want this product. I really want it for me and for my lover. I like the idea of us sharing a sniff as we watch porn together; a sort of scratch and sniff experience.

It was Jonathan Ross on his television programme who first made me aware of this product. Do check out the link. The women advertising the perfume are extremely horny and erotic. So at 25 euros I think it is a mere snip for the enjoyment that you could get from such a product.

I am pretty confident that this Vulva could be sold as the most arousing smelling potion. In fact, perhaps people ought to consider using it instead of smelling salts should a person faint. I am confident that this delightful smell, that we so frequently shy away from, would bring them back to consciousness.

But what I would really like to do is create a way of collecting my own pussy juices in a bottle so that my lover could have a bottle by his bed to top up my panties that he has amassed with the essence of me. I wonder how long you can keep pussy juices before their smell changes into something slightly more putrid. I think it is time that we put this idea to the test, especially as I rather like the idea of him sitting next to my cunt collecting my cum as I spray these juices out of me into a little glass bottle. Yes, that has rather got me going, especially as I can just imagine the extent of his arousal as he is doing it.

Smell is important and we really should not try and mask the fact that we are sexual beings. I frequently drive home from my lovers smelling the essence of him on my hand. It really does do amazing things for me, and I love the fact that we can share this sense without any inhibitions, without any concerns and with a hell of a lot of togetherness in a shared admittance as to how important the smell of sex really is.

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Just a couple of other things that I would like to comment on today.

Firstly, Willhelm Reich was referred to in the Sex Researchers programme. The poor man was dismissed as a complete lunatic due to his sexual experimentation and somewhat quirky views. However, he had some innovative and interesting ideas on human sexuality and he was determined to support all people in their sexual journeys. This has to be commendable on any level.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilhelm_Reich

One of his more famous inventions was the Orgone Accumulator that he felt could be used to treat illness. Essentially what Freud called the libido Reich took a step further and believed that it was an energy, an orgone, that could be captured and put to good use. He could see through his research how valuable and vital sex was to peoples’ wellbeing and he thought that if he could somehow capture this energy, he could contain it and then use it to good effect.

Thus the orgone accumulator was borne.

“In 1940, Wilhelm Reich constructed the first device to accumulate orgone energy: a six-sided box constructed of alternating layers of organic materials (to attract the energy) and metallic materials (to radiate the energy toward the center of the box). Patients would sit inside the accumulator and absorb orgone energy through their skin and lungs. The accumulator had a healthy effect on blood and body tissue by improving the flow of life-energy and by releasing energy-blocks.”

1940. What the hell happens if Reich was correct? What if he had stumbled across the most incredible of inventions? Because nobody seems to have done a damn thing about it since.

Earlier I was talking about smell and how we do not embrace the delights of smells and how a little spot of Vulva could be used to bring some life back into someone who faints. What if this orgone does exist and we are not using this potent energy in our lives?
For those of us who have sex regularly, you know how you feel afterwards. You know that there is an immensely powerful energy that completely overwhelms you. Why hasn’t that been studied? Why hasn’t it been considered? Why haven’t people thought about the potential healing powers of such an energy? It could save the NHS billions if you put depressed patients on a course of Orgone treatement rather than Prozac. I know which one I would prefer, though having said that, I’ll stick to getting a more direct source of orgone energy, straight into my cunt and the air around me as I slumber from my cum.

Whilst watching the programme, it made me remember the children’s film “Monster’s Inc.” where initially these monsters scared the living daylights out of children across the world as the “fear” energy was captured in a specific machine. This was then converted into energy to run the city. Once they realised the errors of their ways, the monsters discovered that laughter was a far greater source of energy and they changed their ways to gather laughter rather than fear.

I wonder if the originator of the story had ever read about Willhelm Reich’s Orgone Accumulator for whilst laughter is a wonderful life-giving thing, it pales into insignificance compared with the positive energy that comes from great sex.

I know that this is not entirely what Reich was saying and he did indeed think that Orgone energy was around us and beyond a mere sexual experience but it does make you wonder.

Here’s to the next generation of sex researchers and let us hope that some bright spark will be able to take his work to the next level.

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And finally, I had the most incredibly erotic dream last night that I thought I might share with my readers. I have no idea where it came from but there I was this morning with a very vivid image in my mind.

For some reason, I was in a sort of dance studio or it could have been a gymnasium. This man was standing next to me asking me to see the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

A female gymnast then came into the room. She wasn’t a particularly stunning looking woman but she obviously had a perfectly beautiful body and unlike real gymnasts she had a decent handful of tit.

She was wearing a tight fitting leotard with a loose skirting in a very subtle peachy pink, with a silky sash. She walked into the room, stood in front of the mats and slid herself down into the most perfect of splits. She stayed there, motionless, holding her position as I gazed in amazement. It was indeed beautiful.

No wait, said my companion, carry on watching.

As he said this, the woman twisted herself around to face us, and did the splits full frontal on rather than in profile. It was then that I realised her leotard was crotchless and I was faced for a split second with the most perfect pussy you could ever have seen; so sweet, so creamy pink, so utterly beautiful.

And then as quickly as she had manoeuvred into that position, she raised her legs and got into the most incredible position where her face was still toward us but she twisted her legs around, forcing her bum right up to reveal her pussy once more; all perfectly formed, like an unfurling rose, tender, untouched and just utterly, utterly beautiful.

It was almost as if her cunt was smiling at us. She said nothing, just performed and showed us this beautiful pussy.

There was no juice running out of it. There was little hair around it. It was such a delicate colour and you could see every perfect fold.

And yet neither of us moved towards her. We simply sat there in complete silence and utter delight at the genuine and natural beauty of this sight.

Truly erotic.

I wonder what sort of orgone energy was coming out of the two voyeurs in my dream, and I wonder what energy was engulfing me as I awoke from this dream. Was I suddenly surrounded my orgone energy? It certainly felt so.

Sexual Snippets in June

Oh and I nearly forgot what I was supposed to be writing about! I said that I would lose myself in my passion for writing.

This piece is going to be a short list of sexual snippets.

1.       Libby Brooks article in the Guardian in the response to the sexualisation report.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/global/2011/jun/09/playboy-bunnies-poor-kids?INTCMP=SRCH

Finally, finally someone has spoken about the fact that nobody seems to have asked children about this sexualisation issue. Finally someone has mentioned that we need to actually ask ourselves what “sexualisation” means. Finally someone has considered that we still haven’t actually defined “sexual deviance”. Finally someone has stated the all too obvious fact that children are not necessarily concerned about matters of sexualisation if they haven’t got food in their mouths or clothes on their back, Playboy bunny logo or not. Finally someone has stated that with such a polarised and iniquitous society we should probably consider more pressing issues with resolutions that could really make a difference to the wellbeing of our young.
Sadly, there is still a lack of voice regarding the fact that if we talk to children and young people rather than burying our anachronistic heads in the sand, then we might, just might, prevent another generation of children making the same mistakes of ignoring their sexuality and pretending that it doesn’t exist.

2.       The new series of freebies from the Guardian – this one being on the World of Music.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2011/jun/11/frank-sinatra-pop-star

I love these types of series but I am amazed at what they miss out as much as what they choose. The chosen genres are rock, hop-hop and R&B (why together?), indie, dance, world, folk and jazz. Anyway that is aside. The very first piece in the paper was about a night when Frank Sinatra sang in New York, documented by the photographer Weegee Fellig (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weegee)

http://www.alamo.edu/sac/honors/main/papers02/Image11.jpg

He was capturing the first mass frenzy from teenage girls hyped up to such an extent that they were nearly passing out at the mere sight of old Blue Eyes (Was he ever Young Blue Eyes?)

So here is the extract from the paper that interested me.

For Weegee, this was another example of the human extremities that he documented with his instinct for the climatic moments in New York life: what he didn't mention was the fact that, after each performance, the Paramount was drenched in urine.

“Drenched in urine” eh? Was my lover’s bed drenched in urine this week when I exploded with the full force of a woman desperate to release her passion?
Here is yet another example of us all missing the bleeding obvious. Yes, there were probably a thousand or so pairs of wet knickers in the Paramount Theatre that night, and yes, there could have been a stench of a woman’s ejections seeping into a dusty carpet that could easily have been mistaken for urine. But did anybody get down there with some sort of test to prove that it was urine rather than something else.

If they had bothered to do so, perhaps they might have ascertained that this was female ejaculation which can happen with or without orgasm but is so much the better with the latter. When a girl is excited, she doesn’t piss herself. She releases excitement juices. They look, feel and erm, taste different.

If they had bothered to do this, perhaps, 67 years later, I would still not be checking the sheets to see if I had pissed myself and I would be more at ease with my delightfully excited gushes of arousal.

3.       The Slut Walk

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/jun/11/london-slutwalk?INTCMP=SRCH

Due to unforeseen circumstances, I was unable and a little unwilling to go to the SlutWalk today in London. The unwillingness was not out of a lack of support for the event. Far from it. I really wanted to go but I just didn’t feel in the mood after the personal events of this week.

I want that word “slut” and others re-thought. I want to be positively slutty with my positive cunt all moist and ready for some serious fucking. I want the words to positively show my female sexuality rather than be used in derogatory terms. And of course, I want the general notion of women being able to wear what they want, expressing their sexuality without fear of unwanted sexual abuse to be made very clear to all concerned, and that in wearing such clothes we may well be flaunting our sexuality, we may even be asking for an excited glance but it is we that choose whether we want to fuck.

I hope it was well-supported despite its date change. I hope that women were looked at by passer’s by in a delighted way and I hope too that such passer’s by realised that it was fine for a woman to express herself sexually in this way without it being an open invitation to touch or more.

I am looking forward to scouring the Sunday newspapers tomorrow for photographs and articles to see what the awaiting world made of this event.

Apologies, readers, for not having first-hand experience but sometimes even sexual awareness has to make way for the needs of others.

4.       And carefully amalgamating previous points is another article by Suzanne Moore

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/jun/11/capitalism-sexualisation-children?INTCMP=SRCH

She is taking on the mantle established by Libby Brooks earlier in the week regarding the fact that sexualisation is not a concern when there are thousands without food and shelter. However, she goes on a slightly different stance and it is worth a read.

Understandably, she blames capitalism not necessarily sexualisation for depriving our children of their childhood. It is a vile and insipid money-making that is the real issue behind the selling of obscenely inappropriate clothes for young girls, and these capitalist bastards don’t give a damn about how horrendous it is to see a little girl dressed up in this way.

Yet once again, there are pieces of understanding that are missing.

Take this comment.

The display of naked breasts on the middle shelf thanks to Lad Mags is not nice. Don't worry – such mags are in decline anyway, and nothing in this report will challenge Page 3 or indeed the peculiar "sexualisation" of those poor Middleton sisters with their breasts, bottoms and legs now permanently on display as they lay back and think of England. Or Wales. Wherever.

Come on Suzanne! The reason Lads Mags are in decline is because any one who fancies a quick eyeful can do it at the touch of a button. The internet is full of images, moving ones too, that go well beyond the average lad mags coverage (or lack of it!). As for the Middletons – they’re just posh birds who can afford to have trim bottoms!

However, she does redeem herself later in the article with the point that ... “The viewing of porn, we are told, for instance, is addictive. What model of addiction are we using here?”

Exactly so. What are we measuring here? Has anyone actually looked into the relationship between porn and inappropriate sexual behaviour for those who merely have a healthy interest in sex? Let’s not go there right now, for I know there are plenty of reports that do link deviant behaviour with pornography but maybe the deviance was there already in such people and it not the porn that is the main provocation.

She concludes, “What is needed then is not some weird repression of sexuality or of young people, but of a rapacious capitalism that commodifies every desire and yes, will sell sex to children.”

And she too acknowledges that we shouldn’t brandish a word such as sexualisation around when we have done nothing to actually qualify, quantify or identify what this word actually means.

I also loved her comment about her daughter, her ten year old who was concerned about the word “Slut” admonishing her mother for using the word in relation to the aforementioned demonstration/walk/celebration. But at the same time, this young girl is asking what “fisting” is. And even the great liberal Ms Moore couldn’t bring herself to tell her. The child has heard it. She wants an explanation and if she doesn’t get it from her mother, she will find it elsewhere, because she can!

5.       I need a fuck. I need a hug. I need a passionate kiss and a Satori sleep.

No link for that one – just thought I’d mention it!

6.       Exciting news from Channel Four.

http://www.channel4.com/programmes/the-sex-researchers/episode-guide/series-1/episode-1

This is hopefully a preview to what Zenpuss is going to be talking about later on in the week. I am SO excited about this programme. According to the Guide in today’s paper, the first programme is going to be all about the female orgasm. I can hardly contain myself and think I might have a thorough good going over myself to prepare me for the main even on Channel 4 at 10pm on Thursday. I hope to goodness it is going to be worth the wait. I hope to goodness that I................... we’ll leave that one for now.

“Channel 4 are seasoned veterans at disguising lascivious content as sex ed, but this new three part series manages to keep the titillation/information ratio weighted narrowly in favour of the latter. The Sex Researchers opens with an episode on the female orgasm which has confounded scientific consensus for generations.(ZP -Back to what I said earlier about Frankie, peeing girls and the wet bedsheets) Victorian medical professionals were convinced that women were incapable of orgasm, leading to the populist belief that only men should enjoy sex. However, a  few bold, contrarian (ZP – always contrarian when it comes to female sexuality) figures conducting some rather risqué studies, were able to prove otherwise, leading to a more enlightened, understanding of female sexuality.”

http://zenpuss.blogspot.com/2008/05/hysteria-stress-and-knowing-your-body.html

http://zenpuss.blogspot.com/2010/11/hysterical-sexuality.html

See previous writing above to appreciate how excited I am.

AND Willhelm Reich is going to get an outing on national TV at long last.

Firsts: The Orgasms

“The pleasure of living and the pleasure of orgasm are identical. Extreme orgasm anxiety forms the basis of the general fear of life”.

Willhelm Reich

Men cum and that’s it for a while. Women can cum and cum with multiple delights.
A first orgasm is similar. A man can remember with infinite ease his first orgasm because it happens so resolutely, so obviously. A woman, on the other hand, might have a series of experiences that make up her first orgasm. In its multiplicity, please be aware, there is no dilution.

I offer nothing but a cliché.

Like the other children, I queued up in the corridor that led to the cold hall. Equipment was swung into position, groups were falsely made and whistles were blown to allow us to use the instrument that had been ascribed to us.
I waited patiently to get to the ropes, climbing rather too enthusiastically to the top and just staying there. I actually had rope burn between my thighs for the majority of my last year in primary school.
It was the most sensational feeling. I can distinctly remember feeling as though I was going to pee but the sensation was far more exciting than the mere act of pissing. It was a burning sensation that was free from pain and full of warmth that had no comparative; not then, not now.

I clung on for my life in the vain hope that this incredible sensation could last as long as possible. Once it had stopped I edged my way down the rope only to realise that I needed that sensation once more. Half way down the rope, I changed directions and clambered back up, holding the climatic position once more, feeling the girth of the rope between my thighs, waiting for the feeling to overwhelm me once more as though someone was pumping passion between my legs.

What is particularly interesting about all of this is the bizarre instinct that I shouldn’t actually mention this to anybody, that what I was feeling between my legs which was originating from that region but overwhelming and exciting my entire being, was something that I should not discuss with other people.
Where did that idea come from? Why did I automatically assume that I could not get down from the ropes and share this joyous experience with others? Nobody had directed me not to talk of such things. Or had they subconsciously slipped that into my psyche?

As it happened, I did tell someone. I told my best friend. We were inseparable. We shared everything. We had other friends but they were not significant. So I told my friend. I explained to her that she really ought to get up the ropes and feel that funny sensation if she clasped the rope tight between her legs.
The next week, she did it too and there we were, the two of us stuck at the top of a school hall rope, sharing our pleasurable orgasms, not saying anything, not laughing or talking, just sitting there as one would in view of a perfect vista that led your soul to another place.

At the time, I didn’t know anything at all about my nether regions. I knew that I peed from there but that was about it. I’m not sure whether I even knew that babies came out of there and I certainly didn’t know that something had to be out up there in order to make the babies.
What I also didn’t know was that, as a woman, I had this spot called the clitoris and it was the pressure upon this that was creating this warm, slightly burning sensation that was so damn appealing.

A few years ago, I had an argument with a school leader about the clitoris. We should not be telling girls that they have a clitoris, she said. If we told them about it, they would be down their knickers in a flash, feeling around for it and seeing whether they could get it to respond to their touches.
I wanted to tell her that I had discovered the joys of orgasms before I ever knew a clitoris existed, pointing out the knowledge of the biological existence of the thing would make no difference to an eleven year olds desire to explore. A girl could explore and could feel without the basic knowledge.

I rather approve of the fact that I experienced the orgasm before even having the knowledge.

Women’s orgasms are so different from men’s though and one assumes that the first orgasm is different too.

With boys and young men who have an orgasm for the first time, there is a distinct and definite acknowledgement of what has happened because you can physically see the white sticky stuff that is oozing out of your cock. Also, nowadays, through the most marginal improvements in sex education, boys know what is actually happening to their bodies. They are, in some cases, prepared for it. The slightly more enlightened sex educators actually mention masturbation. They certainly explain wet dreams and tell these young men about the production of sperm and the physical need to get rid of some of it in a perfectly natural way, either consciously through wanking or subconsciously through it seeping out in their sleep.

Young women do not have this. They do not have their orgasms explained because half the world seems to be under the impression that there is no such thing as a vaginal orgasm and they are non-too-happy about trying to explain the purpose of the clitoral climax as it appears to have no function in reproduction. Therefore, they cannot possibly explain either to young women. To illustrate this point, here is a quote that I discovered about vaginal orgasms.

“Some hundreds of the women in our study and many thousands of the patients of certain clinicians have been much disturbed by their failure to accomplish this biological impossibility”.

How appalling is that. Unsurprisingly, this quote is not given a name reference.

Of course, in this writing, I have made a fatal mistake in calling the female orgasm a “burning sensation”. It really is not quite like that. Cystitis is a burning sensation and yet there is the making of some similarity.
That sounds terrible! As though orgasms are painful. Believe me, they are not.
But evidently something physical happens to the pussy when stimulated. If you care to look, the pussy actually swells up and becomes engorged in exactly the same way a cock does. It creates a pressure and a tightness. The swelling is the beginning of the orgasm.
Cystitis is a swelling but a painful one. Orgasms are the opposite end of the swelling spectrum, giving immense pleasure and fulfilment.

The reason I am mentioning this is because that bruising sensation that you get when your cunt is beginning to swell is precisely the feeling that I remember when I was a young woman exploring my sexuality. In hindsight, I can see this as the development of my orgasmic life but it is only now, having experienced orgasms on a regular basis that I can return to this time in my life, through this writing and reflect on where my orgasms originated.
So although my first physical orgasm with assistance from a third party (i.e. the rope in the school hall) happened as described, in joyous female terms, there were seconds and thirds and fourths all moreorless at the same time, which I would like to explain now.

I knew that feeling then, of something between your legs making you feel very juicy and excited. I wanted to hold on to that feeling, knowing that it would dissipate within a relatively short time but I soon realised that I could get it back relatively quickly.
In some ways it is a little disappointing that my first orgasm is shared with an inanimate object but it is the truth.

However, there was much sharing at the same age that created other orgasmic sensations.
The first was looking at things that we felt we should not be looking at.

In the village, there was a lay by where the lorries turned into for a rest. Sometimes, they would spend the night there before setting off the following day to complete their delivery. In order to entertain themselves, they bought their magazines full of naked women who were showing their voluptuous tits, and they entertained some local girls too, judging by the discarded condoms found about the place.
The girls, neither the real ones nor the magazine variety, were not going to be shared with their wives or girlfriends so evidence of them had to be got rid of too. Hence, at the back of the lay by there was a mass of girly magazines and used johnnies.

My friend lived over the road from the lay be; a few houses down. When we were eleven, she took us over to the lay-by one day after school. Her older brother had shown her what was there, and she took delight in being the big girl who knew everything.
Tentatively we wandered over the road and walked around, oblivious to what we were about to be shown. Finally, we made our way to the ditch behind the off-road and this girl showed us this sexy secret.

I remember being shocked and a little intimidated by the supposed illegitimacy of the situation but at the same time utterly compelled to have a look. I’m not sure that I had ever seen real tits before. I certainly hadn’t seen pussy and I can distinctly remember seeing a brunette with a big hairy bush opening her legs for the world to see.
I was aroused. I obviously didn’t know at the time but looking back now I can see the immense pleasure that these photographs were giving me, and feeling quite guilty about wanting to see more.
I had that swollen feeling, as though I wanted to piss, yet it was more pleasurable than the feeling of a full bladder. There was a warmth and a sensual fullness that cannot really be described as there really is not anything comparable. Instinctively, I wanted to just press down on there, as though to hold that brilliant pressure there, forever.

I’m not sure whether the other girls felt it. There were about five of us and I do not know if they felt the same. There was giggles and laughter but I am not sure that they felt it the way I did. All I could think of was that feeling that I got with the ropes and how peculiar it was that looking at a picture of a naked woman had had such a similar effect.

This growing acknowledgement of sexuality continued as a friend who lived down my road insisted one day in sharing her moments of puberty with me.
We were talking about growing up and moving on, and for the life of me, I cannot remember how we got to the situation but soon, we were in her bathroom and she was showing me what was happening to her body. She had pubic hair, and quite a considerable amount of it being very dark herself.
I remember as she pulled down her panties and revealed this mass of darkness where I had nothing whatsoever even though I was slightly older than her. She then went on to show me her budding boobs as her nipples darkened and expanded.

All this innocent and perfectly usual behaviour was a complete turn on for me. Again, I was gloriously oblivious at the time but as the years have gone by, I can now attribute these remembered physical and emotional reactions to the personal knowledge of female orgasms I have now.

More orgasms came and went with pillows stuffed between my legs and surreptitious viewing in the PE changing room.

All of these orgasms happened before I got anywhere near someone from the opposite sex, before I had had any sort of penetrative sex but that does not take anything away from their importance and significance. In retrospect, had I looked at these incidents more carefully earlier on in life, I would have accepted and appreciated just how instinctively sexual I was, and would not have spent so many years in a sexual wilderness.

More sexual firsts to come.