Sex


Well, it’s because, probably right now, my roommate, who I am falling is love with, is probably fucking his abusive ex, who makes him in return abusive.

I was fucking him two and then 5 nights ago. He is great in bed. I am also falling in love with him. Damn all those bipolar Aries.

And guess what.? Because I am in the pre-ovulation stage of my menstrual cycle, I really just don’t care. I want her dead and I maybe want to be with him and they are fucking in a close-by room. But, well, I finally don’t care! Rock On!

(true true true - you should’ve been there! with me being and feeling all detached and uninterested.)

I am really not looking for a long term relationship for this two week period of time, ya know.?

Dasein’s there, being always necessarily corporeal, exists with the ontical accidents including sex and its ancillary gendered inscriptions. The sheltering of truth in Dasein houses histories that precede us. Just as there is no presuppositionless thought, there is no body absolved of a history larger than itself; “a body resonates a world and history that are not only of that body.”[1] In each body there lay histories traced in the lines, scars, movements and resistances making every retrieval of the ‘having-been’ necessarily concern bodies. Historie and Geschichte deal not with concepts but the body’s meaning and possibility. In Heideggerian resoluteness, Dasein comes back and hands down factical possibilities and hands down in terms of a heritage possibilities at once inherited and chosen. The possibilities handed down, enigmatically; to oneself in resoluteness is done so with Dasein’s death and bodily finitude in sight. The there-being of history and future is located in bodies, and bodies’ temporality within the ecstatico-temporal horizon is such that the past, present, and future are located in the flesh. Bodies’ forms, dictated by radical fluidity, plasticity, and interpretation are inroads towards futures alleviated from patriarchal and colonizing systems of history.

Heidegger states that the interpretative structure of the hermeneutical circle excludes historiological efforts “a priori from the domain of rigorous knowledge.”[2] He writes of the historian, in this case implicitly operating from a patriarchal framework in search of objective truth value to a singular monolithic historical narrative, “it would admittedly be more ideal if the [hermeneutic] circle could be avoided and if there remained the hope of creating some time a historiology which would be as independent of the observer as our knowledge of Nature is supposed to be.”[3] Rather than a removed independent Subject, there exists a shared dependency where Dasein creates its context and vice versa. This occurs through the hermeneutical situation of Dasein having already a fore-having (Vorhabe), fore-sight (Vorsicht), and fore-conception (Vorgriff). The asking of a question in of itself determines context and furthermore; Dasein’s existential being defines itself in its activities and conversely creates the world it acts in.                Meaning in Heideggerian terms, takes its structure from the ‘fore-having-sight-conception’ triad and is an existentiale belonging only to Dasein. The corporeal considerations of feminisms face new questions of bodies through advancements of technologies giving new meaning to Dasein, the ground of which is an Abgrund, or abyss, giving the sense [Sinn] of Dasein an inexhaustible field of truth, and possibility. The conclusion drawn here is that equipmental structure, the artifacts that exist with Dasein and are currently becoming better integrated into cognitive, physical, sexual use are influential in the forms of questioning undertaken by feminists. As deconstructive efforts from feminists and elsewhere have brought new histories and futures, this process has necessarily been involved with technoscientific developments. Mariana Ortega writes that although we are socio-cultural beings, dependent upon the traditions, histories, and norms of our shared-world, “we are capable of re-interpreting our existences as well as these norms and practices.”[4] Furthermore, the re-interpretation of histories is centered in temporal bodies and as issues of corporeality further discourse opposing patriarchal and colonizing systems, technologies’ integrations into bodies benefit and strengthen this. Alongside of the questions that technology raises for the sexed and gendered body, body technologies are illustrative of Dasein’s re-tracing inscriptive scars of the past. So too do they damage histories and traditions reliant on categories as the interpretative platform of bodies prove to be as malleable and pliant as the histories they re-own in an authentic heritage.



[1] Vallega-Neu, Daniela. The Bodily Dimension in Thinking (Albany: State University of    New York Press. 2005), 95.

[2] Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time trans. John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson (New York: Harper and Row. 1962), 194.

[3] Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time trans. John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson (New York: Harper and Row. 1962), 194.

[4] Ortega, Mariana. “New Mestizas, World Travelers, and Dasein: Phenomenology and theMulti-Voiced, Multi Cultural Self” Hypatia, Summer2001, Vol. 16 Issue 3, p1,  29p; (AN 5431928), 8.

 

According to Dasein’s essence laying in its existence, embodiment is saved from the limitations by which an individual is delivered over to their specific Being. Beginning division two of Being and Time is an examination into the characterization of Dasein as delivered over to its own Being that resultantly has two concurrent consequences. Firstly, the Being-what-it-is [Was-sein] of Dasein, its essence is only its “to be” [Zu-sein], its potentiality. In short, Dasein is not a “what” as if a entity such as a table and comprised of ontic categories and determinations, but is composed of “how” it is; which is possibility. Heidegger states that Dasein is distinct from other beings in that Dasein’s characteristics lie not in that it ‘looks’ a certain way and open to the objective categorization of the present-at-hand, but is in each case only one possible way for it to be and given to possibility to not be so. This is in contrast to the phenomenology of embodiment as asserted by Merleau-Ponty where body specifics are non-contingent to the extent that he says “a handless or sexless man is as inconceivable as one without the power of thought…everything in man is a necessity”[1] down to the finger opposing thumb. While in Heidegger, embodiment may be non-contingent, but the body is bounded only by possibility. David Cerbone writes that Heidegger leaves open the possibility for Dasein to be embodied in radically different ways so that in vast diversity and possibility each Dasein exists as though a species unto itself.[2] This is related to the second consequence of Dasein being delivered over to its own Being in that Dasein can not be spoken ontologically as an instance of a genus. This is the primordial existentiale of Jemeinigkeit, where Dasein has in each case only ‘mineness’. This means that Dasein is spoken of as ‘I’ and ‘you’ but not however as ‘we’.

            Equiprimordial to one’s mineness [Jemeinigkeit] is one’s befindlichkeit, or situatedness. In Being and Time’s thirty first paragraph befindlichkeit, translated by Macquarrie-Robinson as ‘state of mind’, is likewise stated by Heidegger to be equiprimordial with understanding. Undertanding and situatedness as worlded place them in the sphere not of explanation but interpretation. As humankind has uniquely language as the clearing of Being, Dasein is unique among entities. Heidegger examines Ek-sistent Dasein and animal existence in Fundamental Concepts of Metaphysics where he concludes that animals are captivated and ‘encircled by a disinhibiting ring’ where animal capacities disallow them to be worlded in the way humans are. Dasein’s embodiment is most properly interpreted through its possibilities and within its historical situation, not as a present-at-hand abstraction. “The fact that physiology and physiological chemistry can scientifically investigate man as an organism is no proof that in this “organic” thing, that is, in the body scientifically explained, the essence of man consists.”[3] As the body is open to interpretation, David Cerbone writes that an interpretation of the body must mace bodily performances in a broader existential structure where Dasein is in every case what it can be, in its actions, interpretations and meanings. Rather than the capacities of the animal organism as elucidated by Heidegger, Cerbone offers the body as an open system of capabilities whereby one’s embodied concern is of a ontological nature other than mere behavior. The interpreted body is an intentional, meaningful body and is a thrown and projecting project of possibilities and placed in a hermeneutical circle of processing interpretation. Dasein as an embodied sheltering of equally truth and untruth is at once meaningful and unessential. The nature of interpretation, the language that bears it, and the shared ethical co-world [Mitsein] naturally have implications towards the divisions of gender and Dasein’s Being.



[1] Merleau-Ponty, Maurice. Phenomenology of Perception trans. C. Smith (New York: Routledge. 1962), 170

[2] Cerbone, David R. “Heidegger and Dasein’s ‘Bodily Nature’: What is the Hidden Problematic?” International Journal of Philosophical Studies, Jul2000, VOl. 8 Issue 2, p209-230, 22p; DOI: 10.1080/09672550050084018; (AN 4220610), 214

 

[3] Heidegger, Martin. “Letter on Humanism” Basic Writings David Farrell Krell. Ed. (New York: Harper Collins. 1993) (New York: Harper Collins. 1993), 228

Hey! Crazy running into you. Wow. You look great. Uh, by the way, I was wondering if I could get that dildo back from you. Yeah, the Prussian blue one. No, its not a big deal, its just that if you could get that back to me, that’d be great. No rush.

Yeah. It was Prussian blue. You know: the dildo I put inside you. Last week? I think it was Tuesday of last week. Yeah. I mean don’t bother yourself to, you know, like, look for it right now or anything. Its just if I could get it back that’d be real cool.

Do I know where it could be? No really I don’t. Uh, the last time I saw it, it was located inside you, but that was like Tuesday of last week, so…. Well, if you do find it, if you could maybe give me a call and I could come pick it up. That doesn’t work for you? You’d rather just mail it to me? Uh, that’s cool. Sure.

Gosh, this is really embarrassing to say this, but… just to let you know: I didn’t intentionally forget it so that I’d have another reason to see you again. No! Nothing of the sort. I know that trick, sure-the ol’ “I forgot my jacket at your place can I come get it sometime?” thing. Sure! It works great as a booty call justification. But that is NOT the case presently. No! I just need that dildo back. Sometime. Not a biggie. Anyway, uh, good to see you. I’ll uh, yeah. Uh, see you around! Okay. Bye.

Ryan McGivern

heart-to-heart.jpgI’m falling out of love with myself. The ’spark’ has definitely faded. And I won’t hesitate to admit that it is correlated to my weight gain. Last night, I turned myself down for sex.
I said I was ‘kinda tired’ and just rolled over. Boy, this break up with really hurt my family. My mother had expected so much for me. I am in the process of making a time travelling DeLorien that I’ll crank up to 88 mph and go back to 1988 to warn my 10 year old self not to fall in love with me.

“No matter how luxurious the hair, or knowing the touch!” I’ll scream.
“And don’t be taken in by your GoldenEye playing prowess, either!”

My 10 year old self will react with incredulity, awe, and lust. Afterall, I was a lonely 10 year old and let’s face it: I’ve still got some pretty dangerous curves. This break up will be hard on myself. I know it. I’ve always taken rejection harshly. It’s not that I don’t love myself. I’m just not in love with myself.

Does that make sense?

Sigh. Maybe I’ll have sex with myself once more: just for old time’s sake.

Ryan McGivern
www.myspace.com/mckibbon

musings 2musingsSo did you see Ted last night @ that kegger on 15th Ave? Hott!!! We were gonna kiss but he had serious garlic-breath, so I just sucked him off instead. (I know you’ll think I’m a slut, but that’s no worse than being a tease, I figure! Girl, please!)

So what did you do w/Russel? All the way this time, or you still stuck on 2nd base? You’re not gonna be 17 forever - you need to get laid before you get out of Garfield, and if you can score one of these college dipshits, that’s the way to go; if I’d known that I never would have fucked Kevin in the 9th grade. You know we were together for a year, fucking every weekend, before either of us knew “Doggy-Style” wasn’t anal! Whatever, it opened me up for being with Jared, you know what I’m sayin?

O.K., I need to go read this Jane Austen shit about prejudice or whatever. Let’s go to the movies, maybe see “You Got Served”? Call me!

-D.

Valentine’s Day is already around the corner! Gulp! I still haven’t even taken down my Halloween decorations. Boy, how time does fly.

heartIt seems like only yesterday that I burned out my credit cards on Christmas presents and my husband went to prison.  David has been locked up for thirteen Valentine’s Days now and in that time I’ve learned some real helpful ways to make the most of the two hour Valentine Day conjugal visit the State of California gives us.

Its important that you ladies out there know that there’s much more to a conjugal visit than just the requisite sex act. Plan on having that ’sex’ stuff out of the way in the first  three minutes. The rest of the time you’ll be focusing on lying about the status of the money that’s supposedly still buried in the backyard, who you’ve been seeing on the side, and how many children you’ve had in the previous year by his friend RazorDog.

I’ve found that all this lying and skirting around issues can be tiring, so drink a lot of coffee before going in.  Remember ladies, you’re not just seeing your husband in jail on Valentine’s Day. You’re seeing all the cute guards too. This will be a good time to pick up  some numbers if you’re on your game so dress up! I know personally that if you play your cards right with the guards at San Quentin’s ‘high risk offenders’ area, you’re in for a real treat.

Don’t forget to compliment your husband’s new scarifications and tattoos. These not only designate his status in cell block 28’s gang, but they represent the slow chiseling away of his soul by the System.

Have a great time this February 14th, and may your smuggling go well!

voteThere’s nothing more fun than a nice, old fashioned anonymous sexual encounter. Except for voting, that is.

I love the way I can step into a curtained off booth and do it so hot and fast without any thought and feelings of responsibility! And when I step out of the voting booth, I love the dirty feeling it gives me to see the unknowing but suspecting people milling around! Weeeeeee!!!!

I love it. It’s a rush.

Barack Obama doesn’t know me. And I sure as hell don’t know him. All I know is that he’s about ‘change’. Change for what, or change from what, I’m not sure-but who cares?! I’m high, horny, and votey!

People will tell me its dangerous. “You’ve got to be careful, Ryan. You never know who’s out there.” Lemme tell you: I’ve had anonymous sex with people that Bob Allen would turn down, and I’ve voted for two different Bushes on three separate occasions. I’ve seen it all, and I just don’t give a damn anymore! Weeeeee!

Are you running for a mid-level governmental job? Ohmygawd, that’s hot. Maybe I could vote for you right here right now!!

What I love best about anonymous sex and voting is the absence of consequences. Sure, I’ve been knifed while going to ’second base’ in a Wahoo’s Fish Taco bathroom, and currently live in a country who arbitrarily invades third world countries on a whim, but that’s negligible in comparison to the rush I get by acting capriciously.

So, Mitt Romney: You’ve got my “vote” so long as you-

  1. Don’t talk
  2. Don’t look me in the face
  3. Give it to me rough
  4. Never try to find me at this bar again

Ryan McGivern

Bob Allen: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bob_Allen
Mitt Romney: http://www.mittromney.com/homepage

boyI was in kindergarten when I first learned about sex. My teacher, Mrs. Rudolph, an older lady who smelled like the Walgreens cosmetics department and wore only pink sweatsuits, fell asleep one day during nap time. Her slobbering face schmushed against her desk and she snored like a female Chinese baby being smothered to death. All my classmates were also asleep, but I peed my pants so I went to wake Mrs. Rudolph. I noticed she was reading something before she passed out, so I pried it from under her greasy double chin. It was a Hustler magazine. I quickly retreated to the cubby closet and got some fresh underwear from the “Clean Underwear For Paul” bin and stashed the magazine in my Alvin and the Chimpmunks backpack.

After naptime, Mrs. Rudolph sat us all in a circle and demanded to know where her “personal reading material” was. She said if someone didn’t speak up, she’d tear out all of our tongues, pin them to our jackets for us to take home to our parents. I didn’t bulge. I had found meaning in life and no empty threat could ever take that away from me. Over the next years, I waved this leverage like a German flag all over old Mrs. Rudolph, blackmailing her into being my sexual mentor. In fourth grade she showed me how to french kiss, which was difficult having only the stub of a tongue after her ad-lib removal of it. It was in seventh grade that she directed me in my ‘home economics’ class to sew a “tongue quilt”. She joked that while there were many with gilded tongues, I would be the first with a quilted tongue. Whenever she would make that joke, I would make a howling noise because I couldn’t properly laugh tongueless.

Years later I married Mrs. Rudolph. During our anniversaries, after I pass out on my annual Appletini binge, she removes another body part. These days I am limbless, facial feature-less and belly-buttonless. But I really do love her with all my heart, although she’ll probably take that next year.

People always told us we would never work out because of the age difference, her chronic vaginismis, and the fact that I was slowly becoming a tapeworm-like being consisting only of an esophagus and anus. But we’re still together after all these years. She is my lover, my friend, my kindergarten teacher, my mutilator, my next of kin, and the victim of my blackmail. But with all that binds us together, it’s still her sense of humor that I love the most.

JJ Stein and Ryan McGivern

The scene is a Holiday Inn hotel room. There are two full size beds in the room. The outline of two figures can be seen under the covers of the bed closest to the bathroom.

Michael: [sits upright, the covers slide off of his body revealing an overweight man with a mustache, disheveled dark hair, shirtless] I have such a headache.

TipTop: Well, color me surprised.

Michael: [snags a 1/3-full bottle of Jim Beam from under covers; takes a swig] Do you have any pot left?

TipTop: Well, you are certainly a delight. A ‘good morning’ would be nice. Or….or….
‘happy birthday, TipTop’….(sniffs as tears come)

Michael: Fuck you, Tip Top. Where’s the god-damned pot?

TipTop: [gets out of bed] I’ve got to be at the circus soon, so you’ll forgive me kind sir if I go make myself breakfast. Oh, and my first session with my therapist is tonight, so you’ll be on your own for dinner.

Michael: Now what am I supposed to do here all day alone? Does Holiday Inn have Skinemax? I sure could use some Real Sex … Hey, wait TipTop, don’t leave yet, I’m sorry I was cranky. I’m better now. I’ll tell you what, come home right after the circus, skip the therapist. Your brain is just fine. We’ll do Korean take out.

TipTop: Y’know, it’d be nice to be able to believe my lover and Rabbi, but I can’t.
You promise me Korean now, but I have the hunch it will be like the promise you made not to shave off my beard after slipping me date rape drugs.

Michael: That beard made you look like a woman. Hey look, Tip Top, I tied my dick in a knot!

TipTop: Michael. Listen to me. [Sits on corner of bed] You stole my heart at my bris. You stole it again on our honeymoon in Akron. But unless you can prove to me in the next 40 seconds that you love me, I’m going skip my therapist session and jump on a Greyhound.

Michael: [finishes the Jim Beam, smashes the bottle against a nightstand, stabs his hand repeatedly with the bottle remnants without making a sound; all that remains is a bloody stump]

TipTop: Good! You’re on the right track. 30 seconds left. . .

Michael: [sprays in blood, "I love you more than my fear of death", on the large ovular mirror above the dresser]

TipTop: Well, okay…that’s good too. You’re getting sooo close! My three chambered heart is pounding! Ten seconds to go!

Michael: TipTop, I got you a birthday present. [Michael gets down on one knee, reaches under the bed and snags a small red box]. TipTop McKenzie, I know we’ve been through thick and thin and, wait … how much time to I have?

TipTop: Five seconds.

Michael: Happy goddamn birthday, TipTop! Will you marry me?

TipTop: [opens the box; take out a massive diamond] Oh my Jesus! What the fuck, Michael? Where did you get this? It’s a blood diamond isn’t it? I mean, it’s covered in blood!

Michael: Don’t worry your pretty little ass about that. I love you Tip. Say yes?

TipTop: There comes a time in every circus midget’s life when he must decide between the right thing to do and the romantic thing to do. And my choice is…Yes!

JJ Stein and Ryan McGivern

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