A reader suggested that my writing was losing focus… scattered… or whatever I don’t really remember cause unsolicited feedback never registers, I never benefit, and I am better off not knowing how wrong I’ve written or how reading me might be more pleasurable otherwise. I rarely ask people what they think because I believe polling is dangerous. Write now, in this moment, I am and have been for a month or so merely identifying shrapnel. It is okay if what I have doesn’t necessarily belong together. Many writers spend time forcefully filtering subjects and content to blend and become one savory piece, please try next time to read in those pieces what doesn’t belong together regardless the ways they might like to write it so, seamlessly. I like my readers feeling things I don’t, reading things between that I didn’t write, because this is reading and being in the now which is shared among GRINDR, Whatsapp, FB, the sub-groups and network-strangers infinitely within thereafter. The following hopes to marriage the then with the now, when I might have been called focused with now a loss of that focus… and how these bits of shrapnel are together regardless of belonging that way…
I recently sat through a terrible lecture on really bad, topical and didactic art dealing with the question of Islam in Europe… one of the professors insisted that the art does its doing regardless the artist’s intention, so when a white German dude artist sculpts a statue of a woman nude except the headscarf his positioning remains outside the question, as the piece, with its own agency, magically becomes an invitation for Muslim women to enjoy what nudism means in Europe. (The presenter of course does not consider nudism in its cultural connection to Nazism and its love of exhibiting the white body, nor in this specific context of art, the fact that Guerilla Girls posed many strategically avoided since questions of female nudes in museums circa 1985.) The other professor who scaffolds herself with the declaration that she uses empirical approaches—assuming maybe she owns unquestionable and correctly interpreted data—in very unimaginative agreement concluded that the uncovering of the body, done so on behalf of the unnamed caricature of a subject who is remarkable only for the headscarf, was a means to cultivate hybridity. Yes, my dear reader, academics still read the cultures of the world in tealeaves now labeled statistics promptly cleaned up by the vacuum of Europe, who has no interest in this business of change. There were a mountain of other problems in this lecture but its recording has yet to surface online for me to get my culture vulture on… and then the CDU and Merkel announced that the burqa is the problem of now… some passive aggressive lashing out at immigrants, refugees and guest workers–or Germans falsely recognized as such… but only those who are women, and only among them only those who see the burqa as a necessary expression of their faith. Funny how feminism lends itself to attacking women in the name of all women, and freedom finds itself in the business of arguing against the freedom of others: Terminology turns tricks.
Merkel’s plea to make everyone ‘the same’ under German law by limiting the faith expressions of women who are Muslim buttresses itself with the truly Satanic idea of National law overriding religious freedom. Somehow the scarf is inappropriate and prevents her from communicating with the many Muslim women she encounters??? The pseudo-empirical data loosely quoted in the Guardian says that Merkel and the CDU are having trouble communicating with all of 100 women here in Germany and some visiting tourists but Merkel speaks from a position that sounds much greater than this on behalf of people who suddenly feel outnumbered… for no legitimate reason. Feelings were always post-fact. Post-fact is not a new position. We’ve known irrational fears… observed with blind eyes intentionally… identified against others for no other reason than feeling together in doing so… Numbers and feeling, belonging and the violence it inspires when believing that the Nation is a more natural force than god, a force over god. But here, this is a moot point because NATIONALISM IS THE RELIGION OF EUROPE. So let us reconsider the words here, the order, because first isn’t the veil an act of speech? Culturally Germans cannot be held accountable for non-verbal communication regardless how direct and obvious, nuance is always lost in the cascade of this culture’s verbal diarrhea where men don’t stop talking until they’ve made their point at least 4 times and by then the women and others have done the work already.
In digressing even further from my initial subject of writing—shrapnel—simultaneously absolving myself of any real exhaustive critique of European academic inquiry—more shrapnel—perhaps I would enjoy crashing my canoe into the melting glacier of an emotional Feminism… now re-membering of porn as a tool for domination: I might like to mediate on what it is exactly that German men do… or what they imagine themselves doing… via my extensive research on the question of German porn, specifically porn that identifies itself as German, not merely in language but actively in name. The most prevalent contemporary German branded porn produced right here in Berlin is probably German Goo Girls. I first noted the company for its frequent crossover into gay porn for some fairly regular and gratuitous Bromance. Porn is increasingly becoming a homosocial space in which men meet each other regarding what they wish to do to women. A woman becomes the means for us to rub our dicks together. But first the women: The company produces exactly its name… over and over and over again and again: The face of a woman glazed, like a donut. However, the girls featured in German Goo Girls videos are in fact often not German… but rather frequently Eastern European. These videos are durational performances of sometimes gangbangs, but mostly just circle jerks around the featured woman, who may or may not be German. Because these videos are long, and like German conversation very redundant, I skip around and forget to jerk off, the end is always the same a lot of German Goo applied to the face of a woman, who may or may not be German. So the national identity stamp of German on the company’s name and brand modifies the source of cum, not necessarily the liberated woman receiving it. There are variations to this end: sometimes the men jerk off (in obscenely close proximity) together into funnel that the woman holds in her mouth to catch every juicy drop, sometimes there is pee, sometimes a second cum hungry woman (though usually just one is the receptacle), sometimes the men gather around a bowl deposit their German seeds and then dump the bowl of unified semen over their shared erotic prop which is actually the face of a woman, though that face becomes cumpletely obscured by the collective ejaculate… A reader here should notice the veiled face of a Muslim now a liberty under National question might also bring to the surface other German liberties and their communicative premise: What can you say with a load of cum in your mouth? Does that cum speak for you? Matter as words? Is the woman unveiled so that German men might only better imagine the way their cum droppings smother the contours of her face?
The identity stamp “German” on this varietal of porn… far from niche… in fact rapidly becoming normal… is available to anyone willing to click 18+ and therefore in our post-national encountering of each other online bored horny borg boys grow up thinking Germans are sick motherfuckers. Before, not long ago at all, porn used to be somebody’s dad’s stash in a garage or basement… My porn studies began with my father’s huge porn collection. Huge. While most dads maybe had Playboy or Hustler, my dad was in the swing scene… with a stack of swinger magazines that feature very little pornographic imagery compared to the volumes text in personal advertisements. My 8 year old brain couldn’t really comprehend which ads my father might have responded to… which he fixated on… cause there would be SM or bisexual/cuckhold ads alongside the simple standard of wifeswapping. The exposure of youth to porn is no longer via somebody’s pervy dad and the limitations of his storage. Where there was once a human connection to who owns the porn, who’s erotic that content satisfies, instead porn online is a now explicitly solitary in acquisition and experience and I believe few persons are willing to tread into the conversations that matter regarding this rapid change in how we teach sex to children so passively. The production of self-conscious or affirmative porn just doesn’t make a dent in the arsenal loaded by our silence. Porn in amateur POV contexts becomes more and more a study in identity erotics: Gay American men who fetishize sexual contact with heterosexual service men will often feature Confederate flags or Wanted Dead or Alive OSAMA BIN LADEN posters in the background of negotiating the joys of sucking str8 cock while enjoying together white supremacy or unending war which makes our cocks both gay and str8 cum together… a random click on Xhamster will bring you to German sex tourism in Africa (Yes, there is no specific national modifier for the idea of Africa when Germans are on safari)… Greeks hidden-cam recording Thai prostitutes… Red Windows is a rather repellent tourist advertising apparatus for Amsterdam where they offer to pay for the prostitutes of visiting tourists in exchange for recording the encounter… they offer to do the haggling… find the specific type of fetish object for this vacation. They often smoke weed in addition to shopping for girls (again not specifically Dutch women of course, just simply a realm of exchange made available by the Dutch). The Dutch host of these videos (which are remarkably void of actual pornographic imagery but rather saturated with the process of acquiring a girl for money here in Amsterdam, where the weed is great, so cum!) is so uncharming, though to his credit he is somehow aware of his soullessness… selling women admittedly instead of some Western brand of freedom, at least we see the monetary exchange within these ad hoc terms of employment.
Legislating equality never works. One might think Christians would first argue against porn, instead of a scarf that expresses modesty? I use porn here as a means to observe the private-public realm of German culture. In a country that insists religious expressions of faith must remain exclusively in the private—with the exception of pseudo-Christian expressions of course—we must try to enter the private life and imaginary of strangers. Porntubes show us the number of views and likes… the comments of viewers… I might be bullshit bold enough to declare this approach empirical. Porn has always been a mechanism of support and redistribution of identity. This is obvious because it will always be in name, or named otherwise. It is straight white male until it’s called gay… anal… interracial… Oma… Asian. That which is not designed for the straight white male gaze will be titled otherwise so as to not pollute the gaze or offend the sensitivities of this, the most delicate identity among us. The production of individually tailored erotic renders Nationality an important erotic background for the “everyday man” which is now a vast difference from Radley Metzger’s assertion that the ultimate erotic film might only take place on the stage of international affluence… that his erotic journeys best avoided the details of how characters made their money while fucking. Erotic for 1970s Metzger depended on a suspension of the economic, for which all viewers might easily fantasize along with a character living in blind affluence (think here maybe Sex & the City versus Jeanne Dielman, where women talk about being successful though the work featured is only the working toward sex that maybe becomes true love with money… while Akerman’s subject works endlessly, saying almost nothing, particularly void of any fixation on love). Now, however there is a psychic slippage of the self on screen, whereas before one watched to see an imaginary ideal played out, here we have wankers hoping to see themselves… see themselves doing… what? Scarcity, the feeling of it, has folks scrambling to be on screen… culturally documented… or immortalized… but for whom?
Thus, the lives of Goo Girls reveal that Germans prefer the veil applied by men at the willful submission of girls who in doing so demonstrate for many contemporary thinkers ‘empowerment’ regardless what happens in the minds and beds of the wankers watching blow after blow of loads and more loads of cum, regardless how sexual liberation might be played otherwise by a woman who doesn’t follow the exact same script every fucking time just like the woman before her. While a woman of Muslim faith willfully covers herself in a public sphere to perhaps rightfully protect herself from the erotic “cultural” German Goo fantasies of men wondering the streets alongside her. I turn yet again to ask: What of PUSSY RIOT or my much more beloved Guerrilla Girls both set precedent for obscuring the face within contemporary Feminist discourse? Will their obscured faces be outlawed as well? Like Putin, Merkel? Brutally jailed for political expressions in a Church? Or criminalized and controlled for faith expressions in a culture where diversity is merely a self-congratulatory punch line branding a public superior while they wank away in private to this elitist erotic swathed in a scenery of National identity and its masturbatory inheritance as producers of truth… freedom and the constantly renegotiable terms with which one might be granted a life out from underneath bombs.
Here, I am wildly grabbing hold of a single signifier labeled “German” reading it as a universal reflection of all Germans while dipping my toe into the pool of problematic mismatching it with other misogynies. Many people, when I speak of work or healthcare, critique over and over, saying that I speak only from an American perspective. I am not egoistic enough to believe that I will ever write in the universal, nor will I ever live long enough in Germany to satisfy the cultural mandates of integration… I wouldn’t even say it’s on my bucket list… because being German or integrating will always be judged subjectively with rotating variables, approved or denied at random by one who believes himself an authority to do so. I think I am often writing about Germany, I just think many aren’t good at recognizing themselves within a not so nuanced negative. I came here to observe the post-national project, which I firmly believe needs religious expression, for its power to unite over and within national borders simultaneously. Those whose single expression and experience of faith is mulled wine and an advent wreath will never understand an identity that feels itself a soul oozing itself outside the national, and even outside the body… perhaps also across many borders and yet all the while never feeling outside oneself or belonging or purpose because that’s the beauty of god who is to be found everywhere, in anyone, at any moment. God takes away the burden of perfection… for those in the cult of intellectualism (a godless people really) the idea or feeling of perfection is actually a plastic bag in which ideas are smothered… kept from getting wet… or recognized for their disposable components. The fledgling failure of belonging in times of terror is the belief that at any single individual might somehow come and erase the entirety all of us at once which is an impossible human feat. National identity is the McDonalds of identity politics because regardless your feeling of belonging, or the legitimacy of your passport… the presence of a Bulgarian grandmother or having been born in America while your parents worked as diplomats will present itself as a stage on which some real national usurps your legitimacy within whatever truly pathetic conversational strategy to argue dimensions of natural or culturally produced supremacy… We learn languages while not paying for school… We have gay marriage we are not a homophobic country… We tell the truth regardless how it makes you feel… We are not passive aggressive, like Americans… We don’t see race… there is only the human race…
Identity politics are a passive aggressive invocation, always. I am talking to you until suddenly I am defining myself against you, you and everything you are reduced to by the violent, perhaps characteristically European, assumption that my perspective of your culture is the end of our conversation. Your individual doesn’t withstand my enjoyment of generalization… the way that all others become one thing… while I am the one who is not. You are welcome here, on my terms, which reserve their right to change at any moment. Whimsy. Terms change just like that. This Nation calls itself Christian when answering the question of Islam… considers itself free to pander porn which has been banned in several countries, porn in which a woman’s face is obscured… by semen… a veil of semen administered by men… to be worn in a public-private… trafficked to the hyper-solitary sexual lives of those around the world suffering from high speed internet. National orientation is the first question of any encounter within this post-national trough of slop for pigs… Nationalism the only testament here, where it replaces god… determines as if scientifically belonging. While often merely a series of bold albeit cliche cultural assumptions directed to someone like me, the habit formed in reconstructing the interpersonal gravity between nationals is only the habit of refusing to encounter in favor of maintaining a quite dull self, one who is only a National… every bit of which is explained by this extremely unnatural–very violent–apparatus. The Nation is legalized violence… a series of terms reinterpreting it otherwise.