The ‘bone’ of contention

I have been meditating a lot lately.

I feel better, actually — at ease at the moment, with a few new emotions and thoughts spurring out along the way. Meg and Dia Frampton, and at times Noah and the Whale, are my constant companions in my soliloquies. I have quite a lot of time to get to know my persona more and why I am the way I am toward myself and everything around me.

Grounded for the week — by design and not by default — I was in one of those dreamy states when my attention was caught by this playful tune:

Deborah was a Catholic girl,
she held out to the bitter end.
Carla was a different type,
she’s the one who put it in.
Mary was a black girl,
and I was afraid of a girl like that.
Susan painted pictures sitting down
like the Buddha sat.

Reno was a nameless girl
a geographic memory.
Cathy was a Jesus-freak,
she liked that kind of misery.
Vicky had this special way
of turning sex into a song.
Kamala who couldn’t sing,
kept the beat and kept it strong.

Xylla was an archetype,
the Voodoo Queen, the Queen of Wrath.
Joan thought men were second best
to masturbating in the bath.
Sherri was a feminist,
she really had that gift of gab.
Kathleen’s point of view was this:
take whatever you can grab.

Seattle was another girl
who left her mark upon the map.
Karen liked to tie me up,
and left me hanging by a strap.
Jeannie had this nightclub walk
that made grown men feel underage.
Mary Ellen who had a son
said “I must go,” but finally stayed.

Gloria the last taboo
was shattered by her tongue one night.
Mimi brought the taboo back
and held it up before the light.
Marilyn who knew no shame,
was never ever satisfied.
Julie came and went so fast,
she didn’t even say good-bye.

Well Rhonda had a house in Venice,
lived on brown rice and cocaine.
Patty had a house in Houston,
shot cough syrup in her veins.
Linda thought her life was empty,
filled it up with alcohol.
Katherine was much too pretty,
she didn’t do that shit at all.

Uh-uh. Not Katherine.

Pauline thought that love was simple,
turn it on and turn it off.
Jean-Marie was complicated,
like some French film maker’s plot.
Gina was the perfect lady,
always kept her stockings straight.
Jackie was a rich punk-rocker,
silver spoon and a paper plate.

Sarah was a modern dancer,
lean pristine transparency.
Janet wrote bad poetry
in a crazy kind of urgency.
Tanya Turkish liked to fuck
while wearing leather biker boots.
Brenda’s strange obsession
was for certain vegetables and fruit.

Roweena was an artist’s daughter,
the deeper image shook her up.
Dee-dee’s mother left her father,
took his money and his truck.
Debbie-Rae had no such problems,
perfect Norman Rockwell home.
Nina sixteen had a baby,
left her parents lived alone.
Bobbie joined a new-wave band,
and changed her name to Bobbie-sox.
Eloise who played guitar,
sang songs about boys and cocks.
Terri didn’t give a shit,
was just a nihilist.
Ronnie was much more my style,
she wrote songs just like this.
Jezebel went forty days
drinking nothing but Perrier.
Dinah drove her Chevrolet
into the San Francisco bay.
Judy came from Ohio,
she’s a Scientologist.
Amiranta here’s a kiss,
I chose you to end this list.

Listening in rapt silence to every line of 88 Lines About 44 Women by The Nails, I can’t resist the temptation to reflect on my own philandering ways. While in the song the ‘Bohemian lover’ has already found someone to ‘end his list’, here I am still wishing that I have already found mine.

You see, as a man, I toil to accept the fact that men and women are equally sexual, and that monogamy is the logical and sensible state of existence.

Most times, however, I find myself uber phallic-centered, and realize that men crave, consider, cajole and hunt sex. The funny thing is that many women love it. Men, given the proverbial chance, would do everything in his power to be the sheik of his very own harem, equipped with virginal grape feeders and a full-time oral sex goddess at his disposal. Women want their soul mate.

This, I accept is a bone (pardon the pun) of contention between many sex — Ok, Ok! — RELATIONSHIP scholars. A debate amongst bar hoppers and an issue popularized in such shows as Sex and the City.

Of the women I know, a nice ass is a very special asset for a guy. But let’s face it, 99 out of 100 women will mention beautiful eyes and a cute smile in their description of men. Most men won’t. Show me a man who will say, “She had such a delightful tilt to her neck” and “I was so seduced by the one-sided smile she makes”, like that very adorable star in Transformers. In truth, I would say that — but I’m the 1 of the 100. I have a mother, a stepmother, step sisters and a daughter. I am a feminist, at times, effeminate.

Most men however, will just not describe women that way. They check out to see if she has a nice jumpable booty, and breasts that they can suck on from now until the cows come in, and a ‘cat’ that tastes like a lush fruit plucked directly from its source.

We are indeed from different planets, perhaps cosmos. Men are from suck-my-big-dipper-bitch planet and women are from yes-massage-me-right-there-yahoo-right-there.

However, there exists a blip of a minority of women in our society who would leap into the bed of every man who sexually intrigued them. I know this as a fact, as I have chanced on some of them, convincing me to believe that some women are indeed sexual. Recent reports support my inference, revealing that many women even think more often about sex than men; but I also accept the fact that women have different needs than men within the sexual context — a man will plant his seed anywhere while a woman will spoon.

To validate my statements, ask a lady friend what she fantasize about. I’ve done this, and after interviewing a couple of women from various crevices of our society, it seems that women most often fantasize about the classic Harlequinian dream of being swept off their feet on the beaches of Bermuda, by a faceless man. No doubt, bed acrobatics and some serious tongue action or a menagé a trois make a showing in those fantasies -– but sexual activity IS NOT the key component. Romance is. Love is. The fantasy is one in which women want to be physically satisfied but very often WITHIN a relationship, or a safe haven draped with beauty, such as rose petals. Romance is Queen.

Men? Stick him in a garage with his mechanic buddies, smoking and swearing like sailors, and he’d still manage to ‘stick’ a woman day or night. The ambiance is insignificant. Consummation is number one. Romance seldom enters the picture.

If I were to dream about sweeping a woman off the beaches of Bermuda, the story would go as: I swoop down and lasciviously take her in my arms and carry her off to my cottage. As we come through the front door, I hungrily tear off her bikini, lay her down on my duvet, and enter her orally, vaginally and any other way, which Penthouse, Hustler and Masters & Johnson has taught me. I don’t believe I have ever fantasized about snuggling and cuddling.

Men breathe carnal desires, and if physically able, would fuck all day — in staff meetings, at the dinner table, in the backseat of his 1979 Lancer. Women? They contemplate something more holistic and personal -– sweet butterfly kisses and feather touches, and a warm strong hand massaging the balls of their revered feet — hahahaha! I know you were expecting a different set of ‘balls’. Kiss me, hold me, massage me and make love to me. This is the female sexual mission statement. Take me to ‘heaven’, again and again, and then spoon me. That is the sexual story line of the female novel.

The man-woman dynamics is and has always been different and was likely structured by God Himself, or the Big Bang theory and its roving evolutionary strategy, to ensure that the species, as dysfunctional and bizarre as it is, will perpetuate itself.

Light kisses on ear lobes will not ensure that humankind, as we know it will hop, skip and jump well into the future. Quite the opposite. Romance and a sexual affinity for one women and/or one man, will squelch our survival and slowly decimate our existence on this earth. Monogamy has never worked and quite likely will not be in vogue as we move toward a more global world.

Sociologists everywhere, psychologists, and the clergy, spew off tirades about our inability to love correctly — to commit and to be loyal. Speeches and articles on the prolific beauty of ‘loving one man’ or ‘one woman’ constantly besiege us. The Bible reiterates that a man is a half a person, if not married and that women would rather marry a humpback than be alone.

Bullshit. Remember, many couples are getting divorced — or in the Philippines, just ‘go their separate ways’– these days. We crave, both men and women, for diversity and creativity, and are entirely aware of the many different levels of sexual creativity, which can only come out to play when we go outside our personal box and hurl ourselves into the playground of worldly options.

Failed marriages, or broken relationships, will continue as it is or even sky-rocket even more so because the men of our species continue to crave for sexual emancipation and endeavor to plant their seeds everywhere. It is primordial. Natural. It is inherent to existence and perpetuation of the species — survival.

And unless you were raised in the boondocks, you will notice that the women of today are also becoming far more provocative in their style and sexual disposition. Mainstream media show this to be true, even to the extent that younger generations have subconsciously and without responsibility begun to idolize Lolita* once again. What appear to be 14 year olds are now shown in ads and billboards strewn with little but lace and sheer silk. Even though romance continues to be a key need of women, that too, is evolving and represents a changing need.

We are returning to our roots — our basic instincts. Men need to sow their seeds and women become coquettish. Sexually aggressive sex is in. Clark Gable-type gentlemen are out; Jude Law-ish Alfies are in.

Three years ago, I wrote this:

When I was 16, I got a girlfriend, but there was no passion. So I decided I needed a passionate girl with a zest for life.

In college, I dated a passionate gal, but she was too emotional. Everything was an emergency, she was a drama queen, cried all the time and threatened suicide. So I decided I needed a girl with stability.

When I was 23, I found a very stable girl but she was boring. She was totally predictable and never got excited about anything. Life became so dull that I decided I needed a girl with some excitement.

When I was 25, I found an exciting woman, but I couldn’t keep up with her. She rushed from one party to another, never settling on anything. She did mad, impetuous things and flirted with everyone she met. She made me miserable as often as happy. She was great fun initially and very energetic, but directionless. So I decided to find a woman with some ambition.

When I turned 32, I found a smart ambitious lady with her feet planted firmly on the ground so I moved in with her. She was so ambitious that she dumped me and took everything I owned.

I am older now and all I’m looking for is a WOMAN! PERIOD!

In conclusion, I admit that much of what I wrote here is hyperbole and meant to shock. But I did that for a reason. We, as a society, are changing so dramatically and establishing different norms, so often that it becomes difficult to say what is normal. We therefore need to think about the changes, and how they are affecting us and will continue to do so. I’m surprised now when I meet a kid and his/her parents are married. What does that mean? We have become a single conscious society. Or at least I have.

My guess is that we tried monogamy for a number of centuries and it failed. So let’s try something else, what most of the world is doing anyway, what we all scoff at — tri-ogamy, if there is such a word. Let’s marry en masse.

Let’s extend our families so that cousins are brothers and neighbors are lovers. Isn’t that where our psyche is taking us anyway?

* Lolita is a nickname for Delores. It is also a term used to describe a prepubescent or adolescent girl who is attractive and sexually responsive. She lusts after older men, and is lusted by them in return. The term originates from the Vladimir Nabokov novel ”Lolita” which told the tale of the love affair between middle-aged Humbert and his 12-year-old stepdaughter Lolita. It became a popular term in the 90’s when the teenaged Amy Fisher who shot the wife of her older lover Joey Buttafauco, was called ”The Long Island Lolita”. The term was also used a lot during the controversy surrounding the 90’s remake of the 1962 film version of Lolita directed by the late Stanley Kubrick. The film which starred Jeremy Irons and was directed by Adrian Lyne, had trouble finding backers due to the controversial subject matter. 14-year-old Dominique Swain played the title character, and the fact that a child actress was playing an underaged character involved with sex with adults fueled the controversy. Lolita is also used as a euphemism for child erotica, child porn, or barely legal adult porn.

About Seeing with Brahmin eyes
My sense of humor can be keen, sarcastic, silly or corny -- sometimes all at once. I enjoy meeting new people with no preconceived ideas about what or what is not possible. You get much more out of life by being open minded and willing. I'm an easy going, good-natured person who loves life and loves people. I'm both optimistic and realistic and pretty objective when it comes to assessing situations, events, etc. In general I am a very positive person and you'll usually find we with a smile on my face.

8 Responses to The ‘bone’ of contention

  1. a. baldemor says:

    “Jean-Marie was complicated, like some French film maker’s plot.”
    A half would complete her, they said, so she fell in love with men
    But she and they had too much in common, pretending was a burden
    So she went after women, and the worst and best of them she got.

    • brahmineyes says:

      Hahahaha! Nice one Sis! hmmm… “So she went after women, and the worst and best of them she got.”… should I follow suit? bwahahahahaha!

  2. anon says:

    I think I just had sex with you just by reading this, I enjoyed it 🙂

  3. anon says:

    lol! no! its a I-no-longer-use email addy-unless-for-random-commenting stuff 😛
    I am an Atheist 🙂

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