Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Prelude to a gagged kiss 2
“Messianic.” This is one of the words used to describe the age we live in post-911. It’s a word to describe the United States in how it relates to the rest of the world. We’ll save you from the evils of Islam, communism or whatever else that isn’t amenable to unbridled capitalism. Swap in terms like utilitarianism or humanism if you like. They are all modes of how we engage the world. It’s all about control, the taking or surrendering of. The election of President Obama was said to represent a change from this paradigm. He was going to save us from all of this. There’s irony here. We need a savior to save us from saviors? No matter what your politics may be, someone is convinced they need to save you from some ill. Post-911, we were told we were now living in the post-postmodern era. We were being saved from a worldview that suggested we might try to find some solace or joy in the process rather than in a solution that relies on the same failed methods and runs us in circles. My worldview isn’t cynical. My worldview pretty much says “let’s play.” From a faith-based perspective, it would be the equivalent of “make a joyful noise.” Do what thou will and enjoy it, because life is too damned short to be bound to societal prescriptions. The political is personal, and if a little pony play will set you free, have at it.
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
I have little taglines I like to use on web sites like Model Mayhem, Facebook, and MySpace. “I can’t be good. They won’t let me.” “Gags for pretty gals.” “I tie your girlfriends up. They like it!” Being cheeky is where it’s at for me. I take myself seriously sometimes. I take the creative process seriously. I want to capture a moment in time with my art that is memorable, no matter what my editorial vision is. If I’m slapping tape on your mouth or am fitting it with a ball gag or tying you up in knots, how serious do you want me to be? I’ll be serious enough to gauge what your limits are and if kink is something you are remotely interested in. I’ll be serious enough to pay strict attention to your safety. But damn it, this should be fun, or why are we doing it? Being an adult is overrated, and I do prescribe to the Freudian convention that all art is play, a return to childhood. It’s just that our games are a lot more elaborate. Where does this put me in respect to everyone else in society? Mainstream folk get on their soapboxes and contextually abuse the DSM to marginalize those who play at BDSM. If we’re not mentally defective, we’re perverts with a capital “P”. One philosophical persuasion will say the one while one will say the other. There’s your “audacity of hope.” There is none. Make your life a surrealistic expression. Create a world of your own and go there.
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