I love art, I love artists too, these lovely creatures who paint and sculpt and write and sing of worlds within around and beyond us. I pour over art books, to me its as warm as lying on a beach letting the sun soak me in its brilliance.
I once read of Michelangelo’s Moses, the artist finished the work and was so happy that it was perfect that he surprised himself, that joy turned to anger and he slapped the sculpture across the face and demanded angrily, “Why won’t you speak to me!” The artist was devout, he believed that God had made man from clay and having rendered such a perfect form from marble he was arrogant enough to believe that he could engender the real Moses.
This is of course beyond the power of man, to ‘make’ a life from something that has no life, no potential for life but that is what we do over and over. In our art we make fanciful pictures, we make stories of the unreal and in film we give them motion. All fine and good for entertainment, not to be taken literally but we do sometimes.
This is the problem I have with porn, I’m a sex worker and even to me porn is laughably unrealistic, men with freakishly big tools, doing painfully difficult things to over engineered women in unrealistic situations for the sake of a lonely souls viewing. To some extent that’s my bread and butter, but the reality of the situation soon dawns on all. Fantasy melts away and life returns to the physical. I become more real to them and oddly then more attractive.
Of course this isn’t always the case and more than I care to recall men fall for the act and believe I am something I am not to the point of obsession. Truth is though, that’s life not just my seedy part of it. Stalkers, psychos, romantics and the simply misguided abound.
A friend an I where speaking recently about a mutual friend that she has given up on and I have to admit I am at my wits end with. He is a fan of fantasy and he sees life, women and himself in those terms. He sees himself as heroic and woman in the two dimensional world of heroines or victims. And for this he is constantly lost to the world, he barricades himself in his ivory tower, passing no end of judgement on others and sees himself as righteous for doing so.
You can’t explain or reason with him, because he is right and everyone else is a fool, or worse evil. When she tired to befriend him, and let me say of her she is a confident beautiful girl he insulted her and dared to call it blunt honesty. Where its always good to be honest there is a difference between honest and pain bad manners. He is no catch, from his own admission, but his idea woman is so unrealistically the product of fantasy that he will never ever find a woman who will live up to it.
For this crime to reality and himself this boy will never know what it is to be loved, love or to be a man.
I see this more and more in the world manifest in other ways, mostly with men I might add, I’m not sure if it’s tv, movies, porn or video games that are brainwashing boys and men but they are becoming deluded. Reality is what is outside your door, not the posters on your wall, the magazines you read, the whores in porn, the scenarios in movies or the sprites from a game.
Argue with me if you want to, google for something to counter this but I am right here and good luck in proving otherwise. Moderation boys, moderation.