Body Image Update

See the post or two below. Bodies are odd things, most human bodies, of whatever sex, being of comic misshapenness, my own foremost among these. I have praised female bodies in one of today's posts, and the praise is entirely genuine. I do, however, think that pornography as we conceive it proves the lie of my adoration and conviction. The truth is we adore only certain bodies, and some bodies identify powerful desires, giving us the need for touch and warmth, while others don't (ie mine). whether this is societal or genetic or cultural I have, literally, no idea. Pornography really struggles to provide comedy or irony, though it tries: hence I think it means something, really tries to be modern rather than post-modern, and latches onto very real perceptions and dreams. Possibly it is the techonological working out of Freudian dreams and even subconscious fantasies ( big tits? milf?). I do think there's a distinction to be made between pornography and fashion. The two, at times, seem to be working in opposing directions. Whatever the truth of it, I think there is a lot more to come (ho ho) from pornography, both as a leisure activity and as a major source of release, as well as an increasingly powerful driver of body image. I speak here only of heterosexual pornography, which seems to have few problems with bald, ugly or overweight male performers, provided they have the requisite equipment. Or stamina. Or whatever. It needs someone rather more specialised than myself properly to conjecture whether or not pornography sets trends or works from them. What, exactly, is the extent of its influence? Judging from the number of playboy pencil cases, diaries, and other accessories I have seen in school (owned, with a crushing degree of inevitability, by girls) it's reasonably extensive.

Anyhow, I wanted to mention that there are only two working bits of my body left. 1) My brain. In fact this is not working, and only seems to be because it is keeping my heart beating. It has not really worked since 1998, when it was in pretty sharp condition. 2) My arse. In fact this doesn't work well either, but I find more satisfaction in its movements and ideas.

One might also argue that my spleen is working. I couldn't possibly comment. Also my liver is probably doing a good job. I daren't ask it, however...

Did the Earth Move, Darling?

Yes, yes, alright. As a matter of fact I tried out this sexist gag on 3 female staff members today and I received: 2 blank looks, and 1 "actually no it didn't". So much for my attempts at flirting.

The earth _did_ move for me, owing to being somewhere not very far north of Reading (ie Caversham) and lying, alone* and asleep in bed. What happened was this. I was having a rubbish dream and I woke up with my bed shaking and my door rattling. As I am a twat, I assumed my bed was being shaken by a ghost and thought nothing more of it, while I was genuinely worried by the rattling of my door, as I _knew_ I had closed all my windows, which I rarely do because I like the fresh air.

Then I remembered that I did not like ghosts.

Then it stopped.

Then I looked at my clock: 12.57.

Then I thought it must of been an earthquake but it couldn't of been because no-one was awake even the ill 7 year old in the house and no alarms were going off, as I mistakenly assumed would happen in the aftermath of the world going wobbly.

Then** I thought the following, which is a disgrace to all rational creatures in all universes: I know for certain I have experienced something real and not a dream. And yet it was a damnfool thing and no other bugger has felt anything. All is silence and nothingness. I am mistaken. Ergo I am going to relegate the experience from "real" to "dream". This means that, still odd, the experience can be easily explained by reference to my defective psyche.

And thought nowt else until I heard Nicky Campbell's excitable screeching at circa 6.30am.

what a world, eh? Cah.


*= there is an equation for this, believe it or not. It is this. (TD)(being an arse) + (other people) = disregard/indifference. I cannot be bothered to reduce it further. It's too depressing.

**=Whatever. I'm using "then" deliberately, pointedly, even - ironically.