Echo

Currently in my CD rotation:

Holy mind fuck. One of the best documentaries I’ve ever seen. I’ve been wanting to see this since August after a psych professor recommended it. It’s amazing and tragic and frustrating. The filmmakers do a really great job of showing many perspectives and not influencing the audience through the filmmaking, so that even at movie’s end, you have no idea what happened or who to believe. But does it matter? It’s not for me to judge. All I know is that many lives were torn apart by the accusations, and it’s impossible not to feel immense compassion, particularly for Jesse. And even if the things that they were charged with didn’t happen, there was definitely dysfunction in that family’s life and some highly inappropriate and devastating behavior. There were also definitely many grievous actions and judgments that went on within the investigation. Complete witchhunt mentality, which was frightening in itself. The home videos capture some incredibly naked moments. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND renting this on DVD and watching all of the extras. They’re almost better than the movie. This movie…seriously…it’ll be on my mind for a while.

In the past few months I’ve been drawn to the issue of sexually inappropriate behavior within families and the psychological aftermath these things have on children after they become adults, particularly between a parent and a child.

I really want to take an opportunity here to talk about something I’m very serious about. There are many things that go on behind closed doors that people never talk about, because they are afraid, because they are ashamed, because they feel a sense of duty to their aggressors despite being victimized or because they are in denial and/or have no memory of the incident (s). In particular and quite unfortunately, sexual abuse, to its varying degrees, is not uncommon.

I read an eye-opening article a few months ago…

The Pyschological Impact of Sexual Abuse: Content Analysis of Interviews with Male Survivors (David Lisak, Journal of Traumatic Stress, Vol. 7, No. 4, 1994)

When I found this article, I was particularly interested in male victims with female perpetrators, since this is a very taboo subject and few men are willing to come forward due to fears of the social stigmas; I feel that so much work has been done from other perspectives, that it is very important that men victimized by women also have understanding and an outlet. This article was extremely powerful and heart-wrenching, especially when I read the quotes from survivors. I hope, to those who read the following, that this article will promote more understanding, and to those who have experienced forms of abuse, that they know that life does not have to be such a dark struggle, and that many things that are carried inside are things that do not need to be carried. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, a light that matches the light that resiliently burns deep within you, and which you deserve to be embraced by. Together, we need to break this cycle of hurt.

The stats (24 cases):

Age of onset: avg. 7.6 years old(range of 4-16)
Perpetrators: 7 mothers, 1 father, 5 siblings, 3 aunts, 2 uncles, 1 priest, 1 scout leader, 3 neighbors, 6 strangers (some were abused by more than one perpetrator). 53.8% were abused by intrafamilial perpetrators
-family environment often characterized by disruption and/or violence:

42.3% came from families of divorce, separation or parental death.
46.2% were physically abused
34.6% witnessed violence between their parents
50% had at least one alcoholic or drug abusing parent
80.8% have history of substance abuse themselves
50% actively thought about suicide
23% attempted suicide
69.2% have received psychological treatment
31% have victimized others at some point in their lives (this includes sexual abuse of children, rape of adult women, battery of female intimate partners, sadistic physical assaults on adult men)

Some interesting themes described in the article which pervade male survivors’ experiences and lives:

Anger
Anger emerged in the men’s autobiographies in many different forms. They talked about the experience of feeling overwhelmed with rage, of being afraid of their anger, of suppressing it and of discovering its existence…For some [the anger] seemed to conflict with their view of themselves, to make them see themselves in a less favorable light. Others expressed their fear of their violent fantasies or of losing control over their anger.

[SUBJECT]:If they knew what I thought, they wouldn’t let me in society. No way. There’s an incredible amount of violence and stuff that runs through my mind. And I’m really scared of it.

The fear of this anger, or confusion about how and when to express it appropriately, caused some men to actively suppress it. However, control and suppression of anger does not always work and some of the men described what several of them termed, “snapping.”

Betrayal
A subject’s sense of having had their trust or faith in someone violated by this person, either directly or by the person’s perceived actions or thoughts or feelings…Most frequently, men expressed these feelings toward a parent, and most often because the parent failed to protect them from the abuse.

Fear
Men described fear pervading their lives, during the abuse, in the childhood aftermath of the abuse, and throughout the rest of their lives into adulthood. They described fear which could be a dull, ever present reality, or a dizzying experience of abject terror.

[SUBJECT]: I remember the first night I spent in there I screamed just to get out of there. Because that’s where I had been molested. Though I didn’t know that’s why I was screaming. I was just terrified of the room.

[SUBJECT]: I started having panic attacks and I was afraid to have anybody in the house and I was afraid to go out and socialize with people.

[SUBJECT]: And I was afraid I was going insane.

Some men recalled a specific fear which gripped them in the aftermath of the abuse, the fear that they would be “discovered,” that the secret they harbored would be revealed:

[SUBJECT]: And I would be petrified, utterly petrified that somebody might find out about me.

Helplessness
One of the most crucial aspects of the experience of abuse is a fundamental loss of control: over one’s physical being, one’s sense of self, one’s sense of agency and self-efficacy, and one’s fate. The profound helplessness inherent in this loss of control was one of the most deeply felt, yet also difficult to articulate aspects of the abuse experience for these men.

[S]: It’s like my reoccuring dreams like I can’t run. I always have dreams of the same thing. If I’m running, I can’t move my legs and my arms. And somebody is coming down on top of me and I can’t get up. And I’ll wake up and jump out of my bed.

[S]: The world was evil, it’s coming to get you, and you could do almost nothing to defend from it.

[S]: I just had to put up with it. That’s the way she was. They were her rules. If she said I have to kiss her, I have to kiss her. If she says I have to hug her, I have to hug her. It was like I kept trying to fill her cup and it just kept running out. And she’s standing there screaming “fill it, fill it, fill it!”

Particularly for men who were abused by adult women, the helplessness characterized their sexual encounters with women:

[S]: The defeat that I felt with my mother comes back often. I find it in my sexual relationships. A lot of times I allow people to be invasive because I’m used to it. And I’ve had a hard time
setting up boundaries. I’ve had a hard time believing that my boundaries wer worthwhile, that they were worth keeping. I guess I often felt like I was the property of somebody else. And that anybody could just do whatever they wanted. And that I didn’t have a right to have feelings about it.

[S]: All the scenes in college where the girls would seduce me, and I’d just kind of let them do whatever they want to do. Or I would do for them whatever they wanted me to do. And then just get out.

Another common expression of helplessness emerged in men’s need for control, in their descriptions of emotional consequences of feeling out of control, in ways they compensated for the underlying feeling of helplessness:

[S]: I’m not going to be that vulnerable. And I know that’s all part of the control thing I have.

[S]: And sometimes if I lose the slightest control, I think I’m going to die inside, I really do. I feel like I’m going to lose it, I’m going to die.

For a minority of men, the need to feel in control drove them to victimize other people:

[S]: The joy of seeing other people hurt, maybe not hurt…I guess it’s hard to describe. Feeling that I was in control of dominating somebody. I had control over them and they were below me.

[S]: So I always felt somewhat powerless in sex for awhile, except with the younger kids, where I felt in control.

Isolation and Alienation
One of the most destructive legacies of childhood abuse is the stigma which attaches itself to the child, separating him from his peers, robbing him of his sense of belongingness, and seeding the potential for a lifelong struggle with alienation from other people. This sense of differentness, almost always linked to a deeply ingrained feeling of inferiority, interferes with the survivor’s ability to seek and accept intimacy with others, sometimes resulting in a history of problematic relationships and chronic isolation:

[S]: But we had talked about intimacy and pain. And how I equate intimacy with pain. The people that I was intimate with from childhood, I went through incredibly painful experiences. Who would want to get intimate with someone….BAsically if you get that intimate someone could kill you, if you make one false move.

[S]: Nobody cares, nobody loves me. And no matter how much people tried to care and love me, I always said nobody did, because I couldn’t feel it.

[S]: I didn’t have anybody to talk to. There was nobody I could confide in. Or nobody I thought I could confide in. Nobody I thought would be able to understand or do any good. And I thought just to reveal this secret to anybody would just kill me.

[S]: I didn’t feel like everyone else. I felt different. I was different. I was different because I had done this weird thing with [someone] and I don’t know what that’s about but I did it. And definitely no ordinary person would do that.

[S]: I remember clearly being on the playground and just not fitting in. I’ve heard a lot of people talk about being on the outside looking in. That was me.

[S]: I was alone. I was drifting. I would go from one social group to another, and just never stay anywhere enough time to develop any kind of deep relationship with anyone. I felt very isolated and alone.

Legitimacy
Many of the men struggled to acknowledge to themselves that they were in fact abused, and that the abuse had greatly affected them.

[S]: I feel like I’m just defective and a depressed person and that’s why I feel this way.

[S]: This is the voice that goes on in my head. It makes me think I made it up. And it’s subtle, because I know that I didn’t make up the abuse. I think I’m making the memory. I know that happened, but I think I’m making a mountain out of a mole hill, is what I tell myself.

Masculinity Issues

[S]: I worried a lot about the size of my manhood or whatever, the size of my penis. I did. I was always comparing. I’d ask my girlfriends. And then I felt like I was going to die when they told me no, you’re not the biggest man I’ve been with. You felt like a piece of dog shit.

[S]: I hate violence. I was always the wimp or the pussy to back down in school. I always shied away from violence. I even get nervous if people are yelling. Like somebody being mad at me for whatever reason. It’s all interrelated.

**********************************************************************************

The entire article can be found at:

Brian, sensing a plausibility issue within this story, stopped him and asked, “Michael, did the woman really say that?”

Michael went silent, quickly flipping through his mental files of the event.

“No,” he said, pausing, then adding quietly, “But she could have.”

Brian responded patiently, “But she didn’t.”

Michael contemplates.

“No,” he said. “But she could have.”

Brian: “But she didn’t.”

When someone dependent on porn experiences or witnesses something that has the emotional/spiritual passion to it, be that from watching a movie, glimpsing it between two strangers or within his or her own personal experience, it’ll probably make this person feel somewhat uncomfortable because there’s an emotional rawness to it that’s scary. There are various causes but the bottom line is that something hurts them when it comes to sex. When someone “needs” porn (in that, they are extremely uncomfortable with the idea of not having porn immediately available), it definitely denotes problems related to sex and sexual intimacy, but also indicates a defensive ploy to protect an emotional wound. Just as with drugs and alcohol, I really worry about people who use porn to detach their emotions from sex or realistic relations with the opposite sex. It makes it much more difficult to be able to relate to someone from the opposite sex in a realistic and satisfying way. People who use porn to numb themselves will find it very difficult to relate in a healthy fashion. Because they already have an emotional/psychological issue but have dealt with it in the worst possible fashion, they will only attract experiences or people that actually hurt them. They’re really shooting themselves in the foot. I would even bet money that if people did a psych survey, they would find that a high percentage of people who need control in their lives also watch porn or have issues with sex. For some reason, sex is problematic for the control freak.

Yes, the road, like countries and corporations and gay porn sites, is ruled by assholes. It seems like every day, something happens that makes you wish you had a gat in your glove compartment that you could pull out and wave around, if only in hopes of making an offensive driver wet himself just a tiny bit into his tan, suede, manually-adjustable seat. Just a tiny bit. Is that so wrong?

But let’s face an undeniable fact. We all do assholic things when we drive. No one is innocent. Hell, I bet if Jesus had a license and had to brave the streets of Los Angeles, he might be prone to, every now and then, accidentally cutting off an SUV-driving heathen or two while busting through two lanes of traffic to pull a screeching right into the Del Taco drive-thru. Who says it’s not possible?

My point is, it’s so easy to fall victim to road rage because driving is impersonal. We’re all in our cars, and have no idea who the other people around us are. They’re just machines to us. Big, poorly-directed, braking-too-early, not-running-yellows-when-they-should-be-freakin’-flooring-it machines. And it’s easy to hate a machine.

But imagine this…you’re driving in your car. Your day’s starting out dandy cuz your 18 year old college gymnast girlfriend who only wants sex with no strings attached, woke you up with a mindblowing hummer and you’re all rosy and glowing and your head’s buzzin’ from the quart of steaming coffee tucked between your legs. You’ve managed to hit every single green light on your way to work and the DJ at your favorite radio station has had a heart attack and collapsed with the door to his booth locked so you’re favorite song, REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” has been on repeat for the last twenty minutes. So you’re singing along in that high-pitch voice you get when you’re in a really good mood, thinking about rainbows and puppies and butterflies against blue skies, when SOME MUTHERFUCKER IN A SHITTY OLD VAN damn near takes off your bumper when he swerves into your lane. You’re SO FUCKING PISSED that you can’t even find the horn. Then your steaming thermos of coffee tips over and floods your crotch, napalming your pubes through your new white cargos. You hit the gas and swerve into the next lane intent on having some WORDS with this ma’fucker. AND YOU ARE GONNA HAVE SOME WORDS WITH THIS MA’FUCKER! As you pull up to the offending van, murder boiling in your veins, you realize to your chagrin that the driver is no other than Sister Bonita of St. Joseph’s who taught you music back when you were a wee tot and once donated a kidney to your beloved Auntie May when she was on her last legs. Sister Bonita, about 90 years old and just about swimming in her nun’s habit, is driving a van full of bug-eyed special ed kids who are waving at you happily and feverishly through the windows. Sister Bonita notices you staring, and offers a kind smile. So what are you gonna do, tough guy?

Right. Nothing. Probably smile back and feel a little bit embarrassed. Because when you realized that the car that offended you is another PERSON, possibly someone you like and respect, then it’s so much easier to be tolerant and forgiving and suppress that road rage.

1015 Santa Monica Building Memo
Date: January 30, 2004
From: 3am Wanderer
To: Hot English Guy Who’s At Least 10 Years Older Than Me

Dear Hot English Guy Who’s At Least 10 Years Older Than Me But Sometimes Rides The Elevator And Small Talks About Being Used To Colder Weather But Liking It Out Here And Has A Really Nice Smile And No Wedding Ring,

We ride the elevator together sometimes. And you always small talk about the weather. I’m the Asian girl who mumbles to herself. And compulsively presses every button.

I think you’re cute. In a, at-least-10-years-older-than-me kind of way, not in a I-want-to-go-out-and-go-through-all-the-tedious-first-date-formalities-before-taking-you-back-to-my-place-for-crazy-raunchy-sex-that-may-include-my-suggesting-that-we-turn-on-the-video-camera-in-the-corner-of-my-bedroom-but-that-i’ll-probably-just-turn-on-when-you’re-in-the-bathroom-and-then-lie-about-because-I-don’t-want-you-asking-for-a-copy-of-it kind of way.

I like to look at you. In a he’s-really-cute-in-an-at-least-10-years-older-than-me kind of way, not in a I-wonder-what-he’s-wearing-underneath-those-jeans-and-if-it’s-leopard-print-or-crotchless-and-how-hard-would-it-be-to-remove-that-undergarment-with-my-teeth-as-I-writhe-my-rear-end-to-Donna-Summer’s-Love-To-Love-You-Baby kind of way.

I notice that lately, you’ve been standing in the hall outside my window and chatting with coworkers. I would like to suggest that you do more of that. If it’s helpful, I’ll be happy to put some tape down to mark your spot in front of my window so you know exactly where to stand in order for me to get the best candid view of you without reconfiguring my work station or straining my neck. Please let me know.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Kind Regards,

i’ll tell you about a vision i had:

they came to take away the body
and everything in there was lush green
except for this one shadow that slashed across
the right side of the room
driving a wedge through everything it was
and everything it thought it could be
and no one ever reached out a hand to touch it
to verify if it was even really there

i’ve seen a lot of ghosts
(we all have, haven’t we?)

To warp the words of Howie D., “Lately I’ve been drinking, and lately I’ve been thinking of you.”

So let’s play the drunken dysfunctional what if game:

What if the rules had been broken a few more times and I hadn’t talked you into staying?
What if the dreams that we dreamed were just the hopes of two people waiting to self destruct?
What if everything you said was true and everything I said was true and it was easier to make lies from them than to believe the truth?
What if I had been the one to throw in the towel early and cut you off at the knees so you could feel my pain?
What if you hadn’t come home drunk that night and beaten my insides so badly that I begged you to finish the job?
What if everything you knew to be true was a lie, and I was actually the one fucking with you?

It’s been years since I’ve seen you but maybe it’s time for me to confront your ghost. Because I see your ghost in every man I meet. I tell you I’ve seen it all. I’ve seen the dark side and I’ve seen the light and you are neither. You have barely existed in this world that moves too fast for a little boy crying into his sleeve. I’ve tasted beatings from every man and woman I’ve met and nothing tastes sweeter than the ones I give myself. You are the speck hidden on the side of the roof hinged in just the wrong way broken black and daring the world to drop you into oblivion. You haven’t haunted anything except the sad little boy hiding in his daddy’s shadow and one day when something bigger than you takes over and you’re not so much drowning as forgetting to breathe, you’ll remember the one person who reached out a hand and realize that you really fucked up and there’s nothing left in the world that won’t turn against you.

OH MY GOD! LOOK AT THE LAST LINE OF THIS ARTICLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thar she blows! Dead whale explodes
(article from MSNBC http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/4096586/)

TAIPEI – Residents of Tainan learned a lesson in whale biology after the decomposing remains of a 60-ton sperm whale exploded on a busy street, showering nearby cars and shops with blood and organs and stopping traffic for hours.

The 56-foot-long whale had been on a truck headed for a necropsy by researchers, when gases from internal decay caused its entrails to explode in the southern city of Tainan.

Residents and shop owners wore masks while trying to clean up the spilt blood and entrails.

“What a stinking mess. This blood and other stuff that blew out on the road is disgusting, and the smell is really awful,” a BBC News report quoted one Tainan resident as saying. The sperm whale was being carried by truck through Tainan.

The whale had died on Jan. 17 after it beached itself on the southwestern coast of the island.

Researchers at the National Cheng Kung University in Tainan said enough of the whale remained to allow for an examination by marine biologists.

Once moved to a nearby nature preserve, the male specimen — the largest whale ever recorded in Taiwan — drew the attention of locals because of its large penis, measured at some five feet, the Taipei Times reported.

“More than 100 Tainan city residents, mostly men, have reportedly gone to see the corpse to ‘experience’ the size of its penis,” the newspaper reported.

Nickname: BitchGetOffMyPorch!

Age: 25

Birthday: 6/14

Occupation: Writer

# of Siblings: 1

Would You Give Them a Kidney? yes

Are You Friends With Your Parents? yes

Favorite Movie: Welcome to the Dollhouse

Favorite Actor/Actress: Kevin Spacey. I’ll watch anything he’s in. / Helen Hunt

Favorite Book: I Know This Much Is True (Wally Lamb), American Psycho (Bret Easton Ellis), Barrel Fever (David Sedaris), Only Love is Real (Brian Weiss)

Favorite Band/Singer: Since the Backstreet Boys are technically a “group,” I can’t decide. I listen to everything.

Favorite Song: Oh, Eye of the Tiger, hands down. Best Make-Out Song. EVER. Or maybe, I Got You, Babe, by Sonny and Cher because they sound wasted. Seriously? I used to love Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover by Sophie B. Hawkins, until I found out that it’s a lesbian song. Okay, fine. I still do.

Favorite Drink: Mojitos or Absolut Kurant and Gingerale. Oh…maybe they’re not looking for an alcoholic drink. Shoot, now I sound like I have a problem. I love that C&C grape drink…it’s a Japanese grape soda pumped up with vitamin C.

Dream Car: A hot pink hovercraft

Places You Would Most Like to Travel: Seattle, China, Italy, Germany, Egypt, back in time

Luxury Item If You Were on Survivor: Toothbrush

Favorite Quote: I wrote you a long letter because I didn’t have time to write you a short one.

Favorite Word: what?

Least Favorite Word: moist

Favorite Cuss Word: punk-ass bitch

[extra credit] James Lipton should be…shot or castrated and shot? shot, castrated and then his big, fat head bronzed

Favorite Pick-Up Line: Sheeeit, baby, you so fine that if we was in prison, I’d totally make you my bitch.

How Many People Have You Kissed: I am the make-out queen.

How Many Of Those Were Conscious: Okay, none.

In High School, I was a… …um, girl?

If You Were Running From the Law–Mexico, Canada or The Backwoods of Arkansas? Man, they kill us slanty-eyed folks in Arkansas! I’m goin’ to Mexico. They’ve got cheap mango margaritas there…

Are You Hot? Yes.

I Mean, Are You Really Hot? Yes. Now get off my corner. I’m working.

On a Scale of 1 to 10 [with 1 being, “Holy crap man, it wasn’t even human!”], Exactly How Bad Was He/She the Sober Morning After? Man, you don’t even want to know. And this was every morning for two years.

If You Could Be Any Person of the Opposite Sex, Who Would You Be? The lucky guy who gets to marry me. Okay, Owen Wilson. He’s smart and sexy, he co-wrote Rushmore and Royal Tenenbaums (both incredible movies), he gets away with a funky nose, he can pull off leather pants…and he’s from Texas. But the first thing I would do is ditch the hos and declare my love for my brother, Luke. Second choice, Michael Jordan. That guy could get away with murder.

If You Could Meet Anyone in History, Who Would You Want to Meet? Carl Jung or Nikola Tesla.

If You Could Sleep With Anyone in History, Would Would That Be? Um…………………I don’t know. I’d like to cuddle with Jimmy Stewart.

If You Could Travel In Time, Where and Which Time Period Would You Go? 4th Grade, my elementary school. I’ve got some ass to kick. Or maybe to Germany in the 1800s before all that shit went down.

Do You Live in the Past, Present, or Future? Anything but the present.

Do You Believe in Love At First Sight? I believe in lust at first sight. But on rare occasions, that might grudgingly turn into love.

If You Had One Super-Power, What Would It Be? The ability to heal people.

If You Were Granted 3 Wishes, What Would They Be? [more wishes is not an acceptable answer] World Peace, Universal Happiness, and a huge rack.

Would You Rather Be Called Soulless or Gay? Gay, hands down

Human Beings–Inherently Good or Predisposed to Evil? Inherently good but it takes work to be and do good, and sometimes people take the easy way out.

What is Your Greatest Fear? That there’s nothing more beyond this mundane reality.

What Is Your Biggest Regret In Life Thus Far? graduating from college early.

Me: do you ever wish you had a girlfriend?
mshh234: no
Me: never?
Me: why not?
mshh234: no no
Me: why not?
mshh234: that is gay
mshh234: i don’t want a gay sister

and then it continued…

Me: wait, i said, do you ever wish YOU had a girlfriend?
Me: not if you wish I had a girlfriend
mshh234: yes
Me: why?
mshh234: someone to talk to & play with
Me: that would be good
Me: what kind of girls do you like?
mshh234: sehnse of humor girls and love to eat
Me: do you know anyone like that?
mshh234: yup
Me: who?
mshh234: you