HOT WET HOLIDAY SEX
December 22, 2010 – 7:25 pm
To our prehistoric human ancestors, Winter Holiday Sex was an ecstatic communal coming together, celebrating the erotic fecundity of life in the dead of winter; red hot hope, desire and joy to the world in a season of cold blue despair. While the world shakes and trembles, Dr Suzy Block recommends you have great holiday sex to chase the blues away. Re-create not procreate.
‘Tis the holiday season, so here’s wishing you one that’s merry and bright, with not too much in the way of holiday blues, but lots of good cheer, good works and great sex to chase those blues away. This is not as unholy as you might think.
In ancient pagan times - before anyone had conjured up the likes of Christmas, Chanukah, Ramadan, Kwanzaa, Bodhi Day, Eid al-Adha (Muslim Winter Feast of the Sacrifice), Yalda (Persian Winter festival), Pancha Ganapati (the Hindu version), holiday sales, on-line shopping or faith-based mega-malls; before they had even invented the Wal-Mart - people throughout the world celebrated the cold, dark period surrounding the Winter Solstice with great festivals of fire to chase away the cold, light to chase away the darkness, revelation to chase away the lies and fun to chase away the blues.
And SEX - lots of sex. To honor the icy season, our polytheistic forebearers would feast and fornicate for days of nonstop bacchanalian orgies that would make Jenna Jameson pee in her g-string. Over 2,000 years before Christianity, Mesopotamia’s Winter Carnaval featured mummers-style parades with floats carrying glorious scenes of Sex among the Gods.
The Greek Winter Festival honored another populist Son of God with a human mother, who worked miracles, was associated with wine, and was miraculously resurrected after death; His name was Dionysus. The Roman Saturnalia, presided over by Old Father Time (a kind of Santa Claus with balls, chortling “Ho, ho, ho Saturnalia!”), included the first X’mas Carols which were truly X-rated, as the carolers would sing in the nude.
To honor the icy season, our polytheistic forebearers would feast and fornicate for days of nonstop bacchanalian orgies that would make Jenna Jameson pee in her g-string.
Winter Solstice or “Sun Birthday” was - and is - when the sun, after being at its lowest, is “born again,” as the days begin to get longer. To our prehistoric human ancestors, as described in SexatDawn, Winter Holiday Sex was more than just a personal pleasure or a cool way to keep warm. It was an ecstatic communal coming together, celebrating the erotic fecundity of life in the dead of winter; red hot hope, desire and joy to the world in a season of cold blue despair.
WIKILEAKY ‘RAPE’, WAR CRIMES AND YUCKERBERG
Fast forward to this winter, which many of us are finding to be a super-sized season of cold blue despair - and I don’t mean the weather. I mean, just look at us noble Americanos; having been cheerleaded into Perma-War by a Chickenhawk Pussy named Bush and a Dickless Dickhead named Dick, we are now under a new Commander-in-Chief who gave us all this hope but (so far) not much change.
Besides endless talks with Taliban chieftain impersonators (a growing career sector in Kandahar), giving bankers a break by plunging Americans further into debt, and welcoming the Tea Party’s “medieval idiot’s crusade” with open arms, we have the embarrassing holiday season spectacle of the U.S. government attempting to lead embassies and companies around the world in yet another massive assault.
This time the goal isn’t to take down Osama, Saddam or even Tony Soprano, but, rather, Wikileaks publisher and “lightning rod” Julian Assange - dubbed “the Che Guevara of information warfare” by Counterpunch’s Maximillian C. Forte - over what appears to be a broken condom, two aggressive blonde groupies and a mixed up dish of Swedish meatheads. The shoddy sheepskin has captured the world’s attention and not in a positive way for Sweden or the U.S., because, really, what are we extraditing over here… a Wikileaky rubber? International media is filled with a multitude of strong opinions as to just how leaky a condom has to be before the Swedes can call the consensual sex that accompanied it a “rape.”
At least, as of this writing, Assange, now an international icon and political sex symbol, is “free,” - if you consider house arrest to be free - on bail. But the Swedish prosecution still looms as the U.S. Justice Department proceeds with plans to prosecute Assange under the Espionage Act of 1917 (never used before against a publisher).
International media is filled with a multitude of strong opinions as to just how leaky a condom has to be before the Swedes can call the consensual sex that accompanied it a “rape.”
Meanwhile, the Wikileaks keep squirting classified diplomatic cables into the cyberpond, as America doggie-paddles through the same old bloody quagmire of occupations that benefit no one but our big, bloated Military Industrial Complex about which our ancestors, most famously President Dwight D. Eisenhower, had tried to warn us long before Wikileaks started trickling reports on war crimes.
And through it all, our chins above the quagmire, what is the most common carol we are all expected to sing? Buy, buy, buy more bling! That’s why Time chose the yucky mug of Facebook’s fascist-in-chief Mark Zuckerberg over the overwhelmingly clear popular choice of Assange for its Person of the Year: Because Facebook does to users what Wikileaks does to corrupt governments and corporations, and is therefore much more big business-friendly.
And buying stuff is what Time, Facebook and all the rest of your corporate overseers feel that you do best, especially around this magical time of year. Maybe you lost your job, or you were robbed by your banker of your house and your savings, but you’ve got to scrounge up some cheddar for the holidaze, or you aren’t going to be celebrating like you should. All the souped-up smiling, shopping, singing contemporary “carolers” relentlessly assail you from your TV, your computer (including your friendly Facebook page), and your phone, mocking your meager funding, family or holiday spirit with their songs of gleeful avarice.
So goes our winter of despair… giving us all the more reason to come together to beat those holiday blues - and the whole damn dehumanizing, desexualizing system of perma-war and profit - by literally beating our drums and our buns and our jingle balls, shaking up the toxic status quo, conjuring up the red-hot powers of pleasure, love, creativity, science, the BonoboWay, truth, warmth and sex over the forces of coldness, censorship, secrecy, unrelenting consumerism and war. This is just what we attempt to do at our Winter Solstice XXXmas-Saturnalian Saturday nights climaxing on ErosDay and (in your own orgiastic way, of course), maybe you should too.
This is why most organized religions and authoritarian regimes try to confine sex to procreation-because recreation leads to revolution. Because sex is knowledge; it was Eve’s first bite of that deliciously forbidden apple; it is the key that unlocks the door to the small precious truth behind the thick walls of Big Lies.
Hopefully, Assange will get to enjoy a bit of hot holiday sex during his Yuletide sojourn at Ellingham Hall. The 650-acre estate in Suffolk, England owned by Wikileaks supporter and former British Army officer Vaughan Smith, will probably be staked out by female admirers eager to make leaky condom love with him, as well as CIA agents eager to push his ass through a window (the trick is telling them apart). Stake-outs aside, the presence of a very hot blonde gazing adoringly up at Assange upon his momentous release from jail gives his supporters hope he’ll have a very merry XXXmas, despite (or perhaps because of) the ankle bracelet.
The ancients believed that holiday sex encouraged crops to grow and productivity to increase - far less of a stretch than belief in virgin mothers, zombie gods and voodoo economics. Though America’s once-vaunted national productivity has long gone overseas, mostly to China, there’s still hope for personal productivity.
A little holiday sex sure can heat things up in that department, melting winter’s despair, releasing frustrations, igniting personal revolutions and stirring up change between the ears as well as between the legs. This is why most organized religions and authoritarian regimes try to confine sex to procreation - because recreation leads to revolution. Because sex is knowledge; it was Eve’s first bite of that deliciously forbidden apple; it is the key that unlocks the door to the small precious truth behind the thick walls of Big Lies.
In other words, sexuality leaks, in more ways than one. Friends of Bradley Manning, the U.S. Army private charged with leaking most of the documents released through Wikileaks, agree that Manning felt isolated and inclined to rebel against his military overseers, at least in part due to the difficulties of being forced to conceal his homosexual orientation under the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy.
Note: Dr. Susan Block is an internationally renowned LA sex therapist and author of The 10 Commandments of Pleasure, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. Commit Bloggamy with her at http://drsusanblock.com/blog/ Follow her on Twitter @DrSuzy. Email comments to her at [email protected] Do not look for her on the Facebook Farm. The above article was posted at CounterPunch.
