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March 18, 2005
re-crossing the cimarron
A friend of mine was reading some of my old posts, and came across this comment I added to my post about pornography entitled A Cimarron Story:
Some of us [men] choose to exalt the metaphysical side of our sexuality, romanticizing the chivalrous poet. But this amazing poet does not exist in any pure form, nor should he. The ones who come closest to being pure poets are often fat, with greasy hair and dirty socks. Furthermore, they excel as poets because they are well practiced at living inside their minds; but they are not complete persons. Ironically, the habit of pornography is quite compatible with a poetic aesthetic sense of sex.
The problem with pornography is not that it connects men to the earth; quite the opposite. There is an old colloquialism: "I wish I were half the man my dog thinks I am." I would add this: "There is no dog more loyal to a man than his own mind." For in his mind, a man may be, consistently and without effort, the paragon of his own ideal. He can be urbane, charismatic, devilishly handsome and hilariously funny. And there is no fitter queen for such an hermetic Camelot than the porn star. She acknowledges her liege-lord in unambiguous terms, reaffirming the transcendence of his exemplary attributes.
It's idolatry, of course. But I have come to believe, contrary to what I'd assumed for years, that it is not the idolatry of woman worship. A man addicted to pornography is a man worshipping a golden image of himself. It's a first rate idol as idols go, for unlike a statue of stone this idol may speak with great charm, wooing a woman with a few well-crafted sentences.
This is where the metaphorical or literal dirty socks and greasy hair enter the picture. A man enthralled with an imagined image of himself cannot long divide his fealty between his inner Camelot and the real world. He must ultimately forsake one and live in the other. If he would be free, if he would be whole, if he would be truly heroic in the Real World, he must cut down the sacred groves which shade his fantasies. He must topple that golden icon of himself, dash it in pieces, grind the pieces into powder and burn the powder into ashes. He must, in short, come to himself.
Thus may begin a journey out of his comfort zone, out of the realm of his own sovereignty, into the Outer World over which he has very limited control. Here he discovers his own courage will be barely adequate if at all. Here he is ravaged from within by self doubt, and encompassed without by a host of accusers. Here his foot may stumble, or may land in his mouth. Here he is clumsy, rough and heedless around women. He is painfully thoughtless, tactless, bumbling, stuttering, awkward and agonizingly shy. But if he endures, the rewards are great.
For it is here, in the Outer World that a man, if he is persistent, humble, brave and cheerful, may lay the foundation for a new Camelot, a real kingdom in the real world. Whether he has a queen or not does not alter the validity of his dominion. For rather than charming only himself, he may now comfort many others. Now he may sortie to defend the helpless instead of strutting upon the wall of his own impregnable pride. Now he may screw up his courage against desperate odds and march against terrible foes instead of insipidly crooning out his exploits by the hearth of his insular heart like a fool with a harp. Now he may be, in some glimmering, faint but arrestingly recognizable way, the Ideal of a Man.
Posted by joel at March 18, 2005 12:37 AM
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Comments
Welcome back from your quest, Sir Gawain.
Posted by: Dabu Heebly at March 18, 2005 01:55 PM
Aw shucks. I like men like you. Would you mind being a little more specific for me what that shift in thought entails? I'm trying to get a clear mental picture of what I'm looking for in a man.
Posted by: k_sra at March 20, 2005 06:23 PM
Ok, K, I'll just say what I've said to other single, female friends: Look for a man who extends kindness to those who cannot possibly help him in return. He should be kind to you, of course. But most men can pull that off for a while. Look for the one who does good without regard to recognition. Look for the one who holds the door for ugly people. He'll know you when you see him.
Posted by: joel at March 22, 2005 07:56 AM
Ouw. Did that make it sound like He'd know you because you're ugly? I mean, you're not ugly. ----Owow-- Look for the man who doesn't put his foot in his mouth. I shouldn't comment in the morning before having some coffee.
Posted by: Joel at March 22, 2005 09:42 AM
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