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"But there are people who enjoy seeing that sort of thing. Think
about the love scenes in movies, live sex shows in some of the
seedier areas, and so on. Doesn't the inhibition seem to have been
overcome, in their cases?"
I don't think so. I've encountered men who were into the sex show
thing and they didn't seem to be very nice people. They seemed to
have no connection with those they watched as human beings and
little capacity to form such connections with anyone. One thing
that was strikingly absent from their faces was any sign of joy.
It seemed to be more of a compulsion than anything else, like
someone I knew of who used to feel the need to carve into his own
arm with a pen knife. He wasn't having fun, he just couldn't stop.
I spoke before about free spiritness not being a thing to force.
I think that these people are trying to force it. They prejudge,
and decide that these things are going to be fun - and you can see
the anger and frustration that they seem to feel, as they don't
have it. The scorn they feel for those who provide these things
is almost a cliche.
Question: "A fine one you are to talk about this! I was talking with a few community members
and I heard about that campus movie night you went to. "Terminator" was showing, and there
you were watching Linda Hamilton do that love scene, your eyes glued to every curve. Who
are you to look down on the guys at Frenchy's?
I remember that scene, God bless Miss Hamilton's soul. She was very
beautiful and very naked, and I was very heterosexual. I was having a
good time watching the movie, oh horror of horrors.
I also remember some of the members of the radical feminist sister hood and their
self-serving and sexually desperate gallant male supporters
becoming quite indignant over the fact that I was checking out an
Anglo-Saxon woman that I wasn't sufficiently apologetic for being
openly heterosexual. I wasn't hooting and hollering at the screen. I
think that's in bad taste. I was, however, in a visibly good mood,
and some people tried to change that mood, turning livid when they
were discovering that they were having no success, growing even more
so when I suggested that getting back on their prozac might help
them with those tricky mood swings. Some will get angry on reading
this and others will think that I'm exaggerating for effect - how
quickly we forget! How quickly we forget the fashionably puritanical
joylessness of the 1990s, when mere girl watching was often referred
to as "visual assault", especially in Politically Correct settings
such as the Wiccan-dominated Neo-Pagan community.
No, there is no comparison. In the movies, you don't have someone
actually sitting there, practically in your lap. There is a bit of
disconnection from the event. The experience is qualitatively
different for performer and audience member alike, and so is the response.
That which is arousing is not the same thing as that which is porn,
in the worst sense of the word.
Yes, the audience is enjoying looking at the performers. But there is a
difference between the visual appreciation of a physical form
which is beautiful for one, and the desire to see someone degraded,
which is what I really think powers the porn industry. The fantasy,
just beneath the surface, that the one you see has been degraded or
humiliated by the audience seeing something that she would be mortified
by having them see. A reflection of the hostility that some of the
creeps in question that one will encounter seem to feel toward
those beautiful women "who think that they're too good for us", ie.
won't hop into bed with them - and all other women by association.
(The male analog of what drives the radfems, perhaps).
If one doubts this, go and talk to some of these men. Look at
what they find appealing, in what they're watching. Semen sprayed
into faces, bodies whipped - is it so hard to see the hostility?
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