Literature soothes when little else will. The complexities of life exist in all eras, in all our souls and bodies. Great love, be it romantic or platonic or familial, is as desired for as oxygen is necessary to breathe. Some walk through life without the desire to summit a mountain, or dive to the depths of the ocean preferring instead to have safety. Other take the risks, in business or in adventurism or in love. They fuel the desire of others, and bathe in its waters.
Individual liberty requires privacy, not only modesty or comity. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s Roman Elegies are a wonder. The passage below, from Bid Me Not be Silent, is exquisitely crafted. Citing the unspoken arrangement between two people to craft that privacy, a safe place, a warm comfort in the storm of every day life, Goethe evokes the importance of building an “Ours” on whatever terms or in whatever circumstance. Beauty is in silence as much as it is anything.
Bid me be silent, bid me not speak, Secrecy is a duty to me: I could reveal my heart complete, But Fate doesn’t wish it to be.
In due season, the sun’s bright path Drives the night away, the light must shine: The hard stone opens its breast at last And yields Earth water from hidden mines.
Every man seeks rest in a dear friend’s arms, Where the heart can express its inner pain: But my lips are sealed by secret charms, And none but a god can part them again.
Electing a Life on the Run exists in the fiber of a politico’s very soul. The hunt for the elusive, the mysterious, magical combination that unlocks keys to the front door of 1600 Pennsylvania resembles the Grail adventures our ancestors undertook.
Hillary Clinton seeks redemption. Only she is very late to the presidential party. The rest of the country has moved on, just like Michael Moore ordered. The Clinton era ended with a little blue dress. She was not the one wearing it. Her ticket to the big game is about playing the role of victim, of the lost and hurt little woman. After a certain age, one must possess the strength of character to be self-sustaining. Self-determining. And self pleasure – whether that involves intellectual or physical pursuits is not our business.
Other candidates have different narratives that drive their campaigns. The consultants and reporters and volunteers and candidates share hundreds of hours inside this private world, a place where the stakes are of global importance. Freedom is on the table. Policy discussions and decisions about military intervention or nuclear proliferation MATTER. The influences surrounding a candidate and his, or her, campaign have a significant impact on the American people. The players know this. Politics is seductive. Addictive.
In Tantra… there are rituals and moments of reflection. Pauses in the erotic process where sensuality and tension combine. There is a precise appreciation for the masculine – shiva – the feminine – shakti – and the state of transcendent bliss once a union between the two occurs. The art of kundalini yoga provides a great basis for understanding the raw appeal of the political life -as a candidate, consultant, or journalist. The hunter always finds his prey. The prey may narrowly escape but the hunter knows the prey will falter – giving the hunter a win. The hunted – a loss.
And then the feast. The lush feast… whether a hunter, or lovers whose hunger turns to carnal desire and ultimately, knowledge. Admit it, politicos: sex is always better after a win and many sleepless nights.
The approach to submission (or a loss) is a matter of heated debate. Some women greet the liberated woman with disdain. Saddled with an antiquated “gotta be married” attitude – they can not fathom why a woman has not asked them for permission to be free. They resent her youth, her self-possession and winning approach. Her self control. Her position as CEO of a company she created, or as the face of a personal brand. Her stature as a single individual. Her ability to acquire sensual and sexual satisfaction in a straightforward way. One need not burn her bra, or be promiscuous, to be liberated sexually. A fetish for Italian and French lingerie, brilliant men, dream jobs, and Sunday afternoons to ourselves is a testament to the success of our Western culture. From Oprah to Madonna and Tyra Banks, women have declared their independence.
Honestly, Bill Clinton as a husband? Maybe for a hot weekend but facilitate his success, at the expense of her own – every day – for more than 30 years??? I don’t think so. No one needs a ring or another last name that badly. The beauty of being younger is not youth itself – instead, it is shedding the baggage of those who came before us.
The “I don’t need a man” mantra should not be confused with not wanting one… it simply means, a man is a luxury to appreciate. Nurture. Shower with affection. Pleasure. Take delight in. Sharing a moment, or a lifetime, is about Choice. Isn’t that the keyword for the women who came before???
2008 is here. America is choosing her lover. Preferably a formidable and brilliant leader. Politicos and journalists to your places, the hunt is underway. And on Super Tuesday, a feast of pleasure – and election results – will commence. Delicious.
Some people appear in our life with no warning and are beautiful accidents. Their profound effect is unweighted. Free of attachments and obligation. In politics, our boundaries are as sturdy as the Great Wall and as changeable as the sands of Tunisia when a storm comes.
The grace and gratefulness in our approach to real love, whether a public relationship or a private liaison, preserves those early moments. Expectant moments, where passion is unrestrained.
Some women yearn for the safety of Stepford, others are chilled to the prospects of love and passion – taking comfort in restraining their lovers or husbands instead, others yearn but are not fearless.
A few of us, we wait for Gyges. Our apparent suspension of disbelief is but one of the extraordinary gestures made in the pursuit of being caught by a worthy and bold love.
When a choice must be made, let it be for L. O. V. E. Let it be expectant, let every kiss linger, may the very tastes be sweet, and every sensation breathe life into the future.
I’m just a girl. Butterflies and ladybugs are everywhere today… high thread-count sheets, a nice quiet morning, and hot water with lemon in my favorite cup. Everything is good. Great even.
It is beautiful to be certain.
America needs to fall in love. With our future. And with our past, however complicated and tough that may be. We arrived at this moment in history because we have always believed free thought is a force of nature that transforms the world around it – for the better. We have learned over time to forgive the failures and mistakes of previous generations by taking current technology and forging it with our wide-open capacity for love and unbridled humanity. Are we exhausted? Perhaps… but everyone performs best under pressure.
More than two hundred years as a Republic, young by European standards, our beacon of freedom still burns brilliantly into the night – and nightmare – that is omnipresent in the lives of the world’s children and women and men displaced or destroyed by war, famine, and chaos. WE simply must remember who we are – and be responsible with our Republic, our elections, and our global image. Our ideals are still strong.
And we can’t let domestic political squabbles get in the way of fortifying our Republic. And each other. To the anti-immigration crowd… learn another language. Explore it. You would be amazed what lies beyond the unknown… friends and food and love just waiting, with open arms to accept you in. Such experiences enrich the American life, our American story… they do nothing to diminish our existence.
To the anti-War folks… I recommend reading Judea Pearl’s piece The Death of Relativism in The Guardian. All violence is not equal. We must have red lines – moral relativism is like a prison. Giving permission to our enemies to pursue us beyond the red lines of justice, humanity, and decency is unwise. Espousing tolerance while preaching hate of the president or the troops does not give you the moral high ground. Taking security off the political table – because it is a matter of life and death would build a long political bridge for cooler breezes to blow, and cooler heads to prevail.
2008 is an opportunity to be inspired. To fall back in love with our nation. Our principles. Our common values. Expand our understanding of the world around us. Interact with real voters via the boundless “new media.” Just do it. Of course it ain’t easy… but if France has started this new century with a new outlook, as evidenced by their overwhelming support of President Nicolas Sarkozy, shouldn’t we do the same? After all… they understood our need to be free from the very beginning… remember?
And no, readers, I am not wearing rose-colored glasses today… just making a point that life/democracy doesn’t have to be painful. I am noting that sometimes the path clears itself when we least expect it. And when love comes knocking, open the door. Or get on a plane. Whatever it takes. Making the most of our opportunities as free people is a good thing. It is what separates us from all other forces.
There is little so delightful, and so lovely as that moment of surrender. In politics, the lives of the powerful are described in sound bites, quick lies made up by enemies or adversaries, and those afflicted with the polluted judgment of true believerism. Hollywood celebrities see grotesque distortions of their personal choices in grainy photographs in supermarket tabloids.
The average man or woman, however disconnected from power or the red carpet – never really escapes either. Everyone has been a victim of gossip, whether they know it or not. The trick in the 21st Century – is to embrace the reality – without going “Reality TV.”
Mystery and romance seem as if they are distant cousins, almost forgotten in the din of cell phones and BlackBerrys and the beep and whir and the pleasant voice emanating from our new GPS guidance systems… but both still exist. So long as we carve out time for silence, a place where the quiet longing creeps in and fills our senses… the forgotten lover, the new lover, the cyber affair… the almost private connection to another… the person who finds the switch. Hits the switch. And unlocks ecstasy.
— Media Lizzy
“There fore, the person who is unable to write letters and notes never becomes a dangerous seducer.” — Soren Kierkegaard
Trust is crucial. Setting the terms for a relationship of any nature requires some level of understanding, even when there is an absence of commitment. Desire is not so easily satiated as it once was.
The urgency, the need for connection presents itself when an affair – of the heart or of sexual expedience – is in its infancy. Every moment, pregnant with anticipation, grows ever more distant in American pop culture. Satisfying the hunger for human connection, acknowledgment in an honest way has become a footnote. Americans have drifted away from mystery and romance, settling for synthetic fame and shrink-wrapped, brown-paper-bag sex.
Gone is the embrace of moments when men and women are at their most authentic. The spark of ignition between two lovers is now hidden behind clinical language. And fights over abstinence or sex education. Baby boomers, I suspect, are filled with shame -their sexual revolution has been revealed for it’s truth: anxious, eager and simple sex undertaken to spit in the face of their heroic predecessors and parents, the Greatest Generation. They view every generation before and after as competition.
Bloodthirsty for relevance, they fought Viet Nam with a “we can win wars too” attitude, only to learn – War is not some romantic place over the horizon where men fight, a few die, most return home and move along. Life leaves scars. War leaves them open for inspection.
Since their summer of love, a growing hatred of the alpha-male edged out virtually all other goals. Feminists like Patsy Ireland and Hillary Clinton chose convenient, ambitious men as husbands. Never mind the hypocrisy of seeking mainstream approval while pursuing an agenda where men and the institution of marriage are seriously degraded. Their agenda is not about expending the definition of marriage – as they would lead some to believe – instead, and more succinctly, it is about cuckolding and humiliating men.
Hillary Clinton’s embrace of her husband’s infidelity may be the most politically deviant act in recent memory. Teresa Heinz Kerry looked adoringly at John Kerry during the 2004 presidential contest but her words were more powerful than the images. She professed that her deceased first husband was the love of her life, her soul mate. Cuckolded, again.
No mortal man may compete with the ghost of a lover. And America spared John Kerry history’s judgement for trying. Kerry, and national Democrats, never noticed that Americans still hunger for a glimpse of tenderness in our Shining City on a Hill.
Generation X and Generation Y are fighting yet another global conflict, where blood is spilled and heroes do not return. They march forward with two lessons in their rear view mirror.
1) The greatest Generation returned home with iconic photographs of reuniting couples kissing as the ticker tape flew.
2)Baby Boomers are still struggling with the rage of Viet Nam – and their lust for being “better” than those who came before.
Today’s warriors are saddled with the burden of remaking America – in her own eyes – as the world watches. Our sexual identity as a people has been lost. The British are stiff but open. The Italians are known for their passion. Our political ally and rival, France, is possessed of sexual decadence, romance, tales of ardent lovers, and an abundant menu of sexual options.
The American psyche is saturated with manufactured reality, fame, and political debates. Domestic political issues run the table – all choices are run through a focus group. From “Obama Girl” to Paris Hilton to Perez Hilton, sexuality has become about the act itself – instead of how we arrive as a participant.
There’s no edge, no spinning wheel on which we prick our delicate fingers to become spellbound… we are surrounded by judgement. A spontaneous kiss or virtual love affair is condemned. Gay marriage is condemned. AIDS is a platform for fundraising. Anti-abortion education is annual march on Washington, and a platform for raising cash. Pro-abortion advocates add names to Emily’s List – to raise money. A Senator’s wife creates so unhealthy a distance that her husband takes a prostitute as lover A Congressman runs from the Capitol in shame, because of his homosexuality. A generation of our children believes oral sex and anal sex – are not “sex.” A former Majority Leader claims if only we hadn’t aborted 30 million babies – we wouldn’t need immigrants from Mexico.
The war on terror isn’t about Islam, because then we would have to talk about pedophilia and genital mutilation.
Talk about anything other than what is real. What is authentic to the American, or human experience.
Sex is perhaps the most natural form of communication between two people. Restoring feminine mystery to the equation, and restoring the respect for a real alpha-masculinity would begin to bridge the distance. Not everything needs to be decided today. The quiet moments of discovery can escape mention on the Senate floor. A stolen kiss or passionate embrace is not a matter for inclusion on a legislative agenda. Attraction is not a crime against humanity.
The act of surrender, of complete trust in another human being is a conscious choice – a beautiful accident of our higher reasoning. Entering into the space of a lover is like a step, then a plunge into total darkness, brings us one step closer to creating the sacred space between self and lover, where every kiss and touch lingers… the noise of war and terror and elections and deadlines and education and obligation just fall away… Americans must be reminded of the tenuous relationship with our maker – as our returning soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines are with every letter from home, every remembered caress…
This leap of faith is rewarding and private… it is where we find our freedom.
Below is my latest column at BlogCritics… complete with the naughty EU Commission’s sexy advertisement. Enjoy!
Republican Senator from Louisiana, David Vitter, is one in a long line of politicians exposed for extramarital misconduct. Before the ink was dry on his political obituary, another was being written. Florida legislator Bob Allen (R) allegedly offered to perform oral sex on an undercover cop for the paltry sum of $20. The last public restroom flap was former New Jersey Governor Jim McGreevey, who revealed he frequented rest stops on the New Jersey Turnpike for sex with strangers. That was followed by news of an affair with a longtime male staffer and the declaration McGreevey was a “Gay American.” Presidents Kennedy and Clinton were notorious for their sexual naughtiness. Speaker Gingrich resigned. His replacement, Bob Livingston, never made it to the big chair. Gary Hart lost his bid for the presidency after a little monkey business. Former Senator Bob Packwood had a reputation for chasing the ladies around his desk. Mayors Gavin Newsom and Antonio Villaraigosa issued apologies for their infidelities. They are not unique among their colleagues in the political class.
The most remarkable fact: their wives coolly suggest the men alone are to blame. The countless divorces, the budding careers ending in a plane ticket home, and dumpster diving are now disturbingly commonplace.
Sexual misconduct, infidelity, and deviancy inside the Beltway is almost pedestrian. Democrat offenders are commended, even congratulated for being virile enough to have a sexual exploit. Their pro-abortion, cradle to grave socialist approach leaves great latitude. They are rewarded for cold, emotionless, convenient sex. Republicans are drawn and quartered for their hypocrisy. Their advocacy for abstinence draws the bullseye. Their adamant opposition to gay marriage, while being busted for soliciting gay sex turns on the klieg lights. Porn purveyor Larry Flynt finds pleasure in destroying these men, their marriages, and families.
Our society has evolved past the hushed tones where offers of sex and compromised careers were quietly negotiated away. Now, there are staffers, wives, and consultants attempting to decipher the telephone records of the DC Madam, Deborah Jeane Palfrey. No doubt opposition researchers are masturbating over the gold they will find. I keep thinking there must be more to the story. There must be something driving these men out of the arms of their wives and mistresses. And into the arms of call girls and hookers. Into the parking lots of highway rest stops. The isolation of being a politician, a very high profile consultant, or a religious figure like Ted Haggard seems to breed not just hypocrisy but a need for sexual experiences that equal the “high” of their professional success. It is unsurprising that men so driven and ambitious have a hunger for intense, sexual satisfaction. Prostitution is a business of supply and demand. Call me impolitic, but wives forsaking their marital duties should expect their husbands to seek new lovers. Punishing a man by withholding sexual congress has never won any hearts, minds, or votes. The wives should remember they were once passionate creatures with sexual needs and desires of their own. Those longings for release do not disappear; they are merely masked by pride.
Setting aside an hour or two, a few times a week, would prevent many of these bimbo eruptions. For any red-blooded man, or woman, to go without an orgasm day after day, is a recipe for disaster. Love between husband and wife does not evaporate in an instant, it melts away a little at a time. Scheduling is the bread and butter of public service. As a wife relinquishes her claim on her husband’s body, their sacred connection slips away. Intimacy, and the very body, should be considered territory worth protecting. Campaigns bring distance and demands for fundraising calls. And practicing speeches. Photo opportunities.
Instead of nodding politely, each wife should whisper secrets breathlessly into her husband’s ear, just as he takes the stage. Maintain the connection. Cede no ground to hungry political aides and advisers. Staff always needs just a few more minutes from the candidate. A few minutes turns into hours and passion is left amid the confetti, or in the arms of an eager young woman. Wives have as much responsibility to their political marriage as their husbands. The isolation of political figures begins with gatekeepers, and as gatekeepers take more and more territory, loneliness and paranoia set in.
Our counterparts in the European Union are certainly more liberal when it comes to sex, marriage, and sexuality. The European Union Commission released a 45-second advertisement, provocatively titled “Let’s Come Together” on EUTube. The ad features moments, spliced together from many European films, of sexual climax – where two consenting adults are at their most intimate, most vulnerable. Yes, it is officially sanctioned by the EU27 to promote European filmmaking. I believe they could have left off any mention of cinema and utilized the advertisement for promotion of the troubled EU Constitution. Let’s come together should be a refrain ringing out in every marital bed. I found the openness refreshing, especially as it emanated from an official governmental body.
With David Vitter in the moral cross hairs, I wonder if his wife had spent more time focused on mutual satisfaction than threatening the essence of his masculinity, where they would be. Vitter, like many of us, enjoyed the thrill of not being caught. Sex became his vice. Now that he is caught, there is no time for headaches. Political careers should not be thrust into the trash heap over sex. Whether it is sex or making love or something rough and indescribable, the act itself is natural. It is the most natural, most honest communication between two people.
Reckless sexual behaviors, however common, are not acts against the state. With round the clock news, the Blogosphere, and YouTube, it is time to re-evaluate our environment. We all live in glass houses now.
