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Eros Rising

From out of the desert it came: a virtual world named Sin. For two millennia, the world was enthralled by the priesthoods of this demonizing world. But a new day has dawned with the reemergence of Eros, the Pagan God of Love. An eyeblink ago, when the Baby Boomers were young, the Age of Aquarius announced the dawn of this new day. But it had a little setback, as the church and its patriarchs struck back. Eros Rising is here to help freedom lovers everywhere reclaim their human rights.

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Friday, May 06, 2005

This is the Age of the Dawn of Aquarius

Welcome to my webnest. The theme here is sexual. It will not be pornographic, only occasionally explicit, but intensely social--political, if you will. And philosophical. Yes, especially philosophical. Underpinning all social and political theory is philosophy, the mother of all disciplines. But what underpins our thinking on sex? A small amount of half-baked psychology and a huge foundation of over-ripe theology. True, psychology is a spinoff of philosophy, and some might therefore think that to view sex through that prism--especially as polished by Sigmund Freud--is philosophy enough. I disagree. The disciplines that have broken free of philosophy, like psychology, have all left speculation behind and embarked on paths of certainty, even when--as is often the case--that certainty proves ultimately unwarranted. What is needed now to rescue sex from the most recent upsurge in demonization coming at it from religionists of all stripes is some healthy "speculation." In other words, some philosophy. Some sexual philosophy. And that is the purpose of this blog.

My name is Dorian Grayson, and I spend a lot of time thinking about sex. Well, yes that too (i.e. doing it). But I mean thinking about sex, as opposed to fantasizing about it. Thinking about sex might be something you do après-sex, in the same way you might have a cigarette après-sex. (A lot of us do both!) But recently I've started thinking about sex at the damnedest times. Like, for example, when I'm watching a politician spout about values. I would like to make a radical suggestion: People who enjoy sex, either as a life style (i.e. your average college freshman), or in a "balanced" way (your average viagra user), should "get political" about it. I know. I know. "Is nothing sacred?" you ask. Well, once sex was sacred--sort of. Like back in the days of John F Kennedy, when world leaders were permitted to have all the consensual sex they desired, without being harassed by the press, let along impeached. To a certain degree, a decent degree, your sexual business was your own business back then. But then the anti-sex types arose from their slumber, like some great hairy hibernating beast, reached for their bibles, and started dragging sex back into the media and the halls of congress. By the time President Clinton was impeached in 1998, sex had been totally politicized by America's radical right. So sudden and out of the blue was this assault upon one of our most cherished private rights, that liberty-loving lovers are still in a state of confoundment as to how to respond.

So my suggestion is this: Gird your loins, grab your spears, and face the challenge like the virile men and women that you are. Hurl back into the face of these sexual demonizers their claims of moral supremacy. Ask yourself: Why is America ceding its moral high ground to its home-grown Taliban? Why are we allowing spiritual medievalism to seize the reigns of power here in the land of the free. And what is it that we are spilling blood and fortune to export to the medieval middle east--our own brand of medievalism? I say to the sexually free: take up the challenge, define morality on your own terms (which are bound to be far superior to the Johnny-One-Note morality of our Taliban: NoSex, NoSex, NoSex.) Ask yourself: why should the denial of sex, undoubtedly one of God's (or Nature's) greatest gifts to humankind, be the foundation of morality? This, my friends, is pure medievalism, and in our day and age is has become--to use their own favorite word--pure evil.

Back in the Sixties there was something called the Sexual Revolution. All of a sudden, almost overnight, it was as if an asteroid had hit planet Earth--an asteroid loaded with testosterone, the hormone of desire for men and women alike. Suddenly people were discovering that desire was not evil, that is was as natural as crunchy granola. The Seventies, in turn, were a celebration of this new found freedom. Then (conveniently for the forces of sexual oppression) along came AIDS, and the party was over, so to speak. Well, it was never really over. It just moved underground. People cannot suppress something as natural as their sexuality. We can't suppress it now, just as the people of the middle ages didn't suppress theirs (read Boccaccio's Decameron). All that really happens when the sexual demonizers are in charge is that "they are in charge." They demonize, while we make love. Sounds harmless, but it isn't. When Clinton was impeached, an ordeal that consumed an entire year of America's political energy and social vitality, the country had to drop the ball on all manner of vital issues, like anti-terrorism initiatives that an administration under constant fire simply could not deal with. Medieval morality will continue to take its toll on America, if the forces of reason and true morality do not fight back, and fight back hard.

The Sixties was only a glimmer of what was to come--of humankind's true liberation--and the forces of oppression and control needed time to reconnoiter and strategize. This they have done, thanks to the group of "philosopher kings" that have come to be known as the neocons. (Neo-conservatives who rationalize their anti-democratic behavior with one of Plato's most egregious notions--that a small handful of "philosophers" should wield all power in an ideal state.) Though mostly a secular, worldly gang, the neocons have been brilliant at rallying the forces of ignorance and fear to the side of their real political agenda, which is to transform America from the world's bastion of freedom into its absolute ruler, to create a world empire even greater than that of the Romans, to create in effect a New Rome. The faggot that is being thrown on the fire in order to achieve this end is sexual freedom. It worked for the Church, which inherited the power of Rome thru adroit demonization of sex, so why shouldn't it work for the neocons?

As always, it takes time for groups of people to see what is happening and react. But it never fails. True freedom is contagious and unstoppable. And true freedom most certainly includes sexual freedom. This was first realized in the Sixties, which were hailed as The Age of the Dawn of Aquarius. I say no. That was a false start. The real age of Aquarius is just about to begin.

This is a new blog. Please bear with me as I navigate the learning curve. Comments are not only welcome, but vital to the mission of Eros Rising.


Anonymous cmbarons said...

New Author, C. M. Barons, hails release of First Novel: In the Midst Of

Title- In the Midst Of
Author- C. M. Barons
Format- trade paperback
Size- 274 pgs
Publisher- New Age World Publishing
ISBN- 978-1-59405-098-5/1594050988
Genre- Fiction, Adult
Publication date- April 2008
Price- $16.95 USD

“Reality,” he once told me, “is the invention of memory.” The enigma of Daniel Hollis: he survived childhood huddled in an imaginary world; his adolescence, sleepwalking. After two decades of abstinence, he was hungry. No point going back; nothing substantive remained. He had fortified a deception. There was only illusion.

Sticker price on a 1975 Corvette was $6,550. A bag of Columbian: $30. In the Midst Of features a barefaced ensemble of true-to-age characters. Brian connects with an offbeat mentor cum older brother named Hollis in a lopsided relationship. Hollis moves on, but Brian will not let go. He clings to a myth perpetuated by dependency and self-denial. The 1970s was an era of global hang-time; the 60s pendulum had swung as far as the silent majority would allow. Poised to back swing, the repercussions were unclear. The shock value of the previous decade had been commercialized. Like pre-faded jeans: off-the-rack and ready-to-wear. “How’s your love life?” “Try it... You’ll like it!” ...Couldn’t raise the eyebrows of the Tidy-Bowl man. The nation was in transition, post Watergate-pre AIDS. The war was over, and Disco was an urban anomaly. Americans shimmied into hip-huggers, submitted to analysis and shucked inhibitions. Suburban cool: Naugahyde living room set, Tiki-lit backyard and coveting the neighbor’s spouse. ...Cocaine for your groove and a doobie to unwind. What distinguishes In the Midst Of? Barons’ characters are not trite icons typically enlisted to resemble the 70s. Brian, et al, leap beyond stereotypes; video verite, spurred by downright, gut-metered dialogue. The backdrop is unaffected, a Kodacolor © snapshot- definitive 70s. The era pretends to be a character, à la Grand Central Terminal, too epic for the label: train station. Brian and his friends’ lives play out, guided by elements more onerous than the clockworks of society and politics. They are ensconced on a college campus. Co-ed dorms, uni-sex fashion; lines obscured by casual, experimental encounters. Edge-lurking has always been fashionable. Hollis dangles by his fingertips. Beneath his public facade lies a disturbing void. His multiple secrets are protected by an ambiguity that passes for cool. His inner sanctum is Brian’s obsession; a fixation that yields a mirror with a chilling reflection. Hollis is the aim- as clear as the bull’s eye emblazoned on any Zen-archer’s target.

“That’s not my parlance; for lack of better term, yes, I have one.” He led me into the hall, digging in his pocket for a key ring. I wasn’t eager; I’d rather postpone disassembly of the person I thought I knew.
He removed his shoes, importing I do likewise. “I keep it locked because the floor is white. …Don’t want dirt tracked in.” The lights came on; it was exactly as Angie described it.

Related Links

author’s website
publisher’s website

11:55 PM  

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