Tuesday, April 24, 2012

THE BEATEN GENERATION: The Dick Principle (Chapter 12)























by Dick & Poli Tico 

NOTES: There is a forest of factors influencing sexuality and one needs professional guidance to find one's way instead of relying on delusional politicians and propagandists. I am very interested on the cases which could be saved & we need to help them instead of sacrificing them to the delusion that they deserved the misery of the "malignant" cases (malignant meaning untreatable). Phobias could be defense mechanisms to unwanted stimuli and gays will always be unwanted stimuli to many, including to most gays themselves. Despite pretentious politics, phobias won't disappear, so it's more cost-efficient for humanity to save the "benign" ones instead of treating everybody else as hopeless stats and just wish intellectually dishonest politics will be good enough for everybody. In short, basic fairness. Sexual conversion is just a sub-plot in the novel, I chose the sexual and psychological profile of Tony (which was vaguely based on Juan, a friend of mine) for the conversion itself. Mine took longer to manage but we need an easily-treatable case to fit the time frame of the novel narrative. We don't need a case requiring years of treatment, as usually expected with gays with baseline zero attraction to females, or the plot will drag waiting for the hero (Tony) to fall in love with our heroine so I picked a 95% homosexual instead of a total one (Juan declared himself 95% homosexual and claimed conversion after 6 months).That means anybody could have different profiles, with varying degrees of deficit, each requiring its own set of relevant interventions. Professional guidance is still advised. Suffice to say, many have benefited from sexual conversion. Including this author. 
Disclaimers: In the novel, the sexual conversion was held in Beverly Hills but that was just a literary decision because the plot unfolded in the LA area. The therapy sessions were literary, not literal, recreations of actual events culled from testimonies of converts, mostly me and my friends. I don't distinguish between secular and religious-based treatments, but for practicality, the latter have a wide support group which could fortify one's motivations so should be considered as option even to agnostics (Greg is on his fourth therapist in 5 years). 

Now, we begin the first love story between a woman and a sexually converted man in the history of literature. While the murder and decline continue around them, that is. We'll also start revealing more of the psyche of Herbert Caldwell which will rev up the motors of the thriller narrative going forward.


Chapter 12: Love Out Of Thin Air 

 "I just couldn't live the gay lifestyle, it's too hard to live. I'm very competitive, and with two guys having the same kind of thoughts, it'll always be too hard for me. With a woman, there are different kinds of challenges, women came from a different place. Your interactions with women are always going to be surprising and different, whereas with a guy, it's one-on-one. It was just too hard, I tried it." 
Jack Wrangler, the first gay porn superstar, who ultimately married a woman, Margaret Whiting, and remained married until his death

 "Je ne suis pas le bruit et la fureur , je ne suis que la petite voix de la raison."
Eva Jolly, French presidential candidate, Greens ( the first clause she borrowed from a quote from the Extreme Left French presidential candidate, Jean-Luc Melenchon)

 "Hoy no estoy en las condiciones de dar buenas noticias a los espanoles, but lo estare en el futuro" 
Mariano Rajoy, Prime Minister, Spain

 (Zo snel mogelijk verkiezingen)...'Het landsbelang staat nu voorop' 
Diederik Samsom, Dutch politician, PvdA



 January 21, 2012, Morning, Anywhere, USA 

There was a breaking news at 10 AM Pacific Time. No staid Fox anchorman this time around. He was explaining why the naked "conjoined" American military officers had to be airlifted to Beijing from Sanya when he suddenly covered his mouth with his right palm, bunched his shoulders as if desperately trying to reign in an unwieldy outburst of emotion, then, immediately, tears appeared in his eyes. He was not crying though. He was trying to control the biggest guffaw of his life.

His lady companion, who was sure she had more control over her poise than any man, took over with a stern, almost haughty expression."Sargeant Ben Rhodes is no longer called by the same name. He was actually glad that his pre-gangrenous sex organ had to be amputated. It turned out his dream has always been to become a woman so a team of Chinese sex change specialists gladly offered their services to show what the Chinese government called "extreme Chinese magnanimity". Waltzing Benilda, as the 6'4" serviceman now wants to be called, is undergoing hormonal therapy in a secret location in Beijing before the actual surgical operation at a still undetermined time. There is still no word if Commander Albert Hageman would also want to become a woman. He was reported in a Chinese daily, however, to have been seen enthusiastically trying on the stilleto heels that were allegedly sent by Chinese well-wishers ..." Suddenly she stopped, stared silently at the camera as if collecting her wits for a few seconds. Then she blinked her eyes and her vaunted poise just crumbled, a burst of tears suddenly dripped down copiously, scouring her make-up foundation on its path downwards, taking down with it her lower left false eyelash which became stuck at the level of her left naso-labial fold, giving her a miniature one-sided Hitler moustache.

 The half-Hitler moustache trembled as bitter words spewed out of her mouth. "My God, are these the people defending us? What if there had been an actual war at that time?" The relentless tear flow then pulled down the right lower false eyelash which promptly got stuck at the right naso-labial fold. As if pre-arranged. She had now a complete Hitler moustache.

At this point, her companion could no longer contain himself, and like a balloon finally bursting after being inflated to breaking point, he exploded a thunderous storm of howling guffaws, jumping and flailing at the same time to the beat of his cathartic laughing frenzy. It was a surreal scene: the teary hysterically laughing anchorman and the teary hysterically crying anchorwoman (with a cute moustache). Fortunately, only a trickle saw them because of the sudden American aversion to newswatching. Snapshot viewership rating in the US: 0.005%

 In Tahiti, the actress Margarita Beaumont was seething with rage while watching cable TV. Damn the soldier, it was so easy to cut his organ while she could only dream of growing one. How could she ever fully satisfy Aikiko? They said she had the most wonderful eyes and body- the most beautiful actress-, but she lacked the one crucial thing. She was tired of the old strap-on dildo, she wanted to reach orgasm inside Aikiko.

The stump of her dead husband should be cremated as soon as possible. He probably died happy with his true love anyway. Her face was already numb forcing a smile at all those offering their condolences since words reached the hotel in Papeete. She was sure, even in Tahiti, they all knew what the two actors were up to when they were bombed and she could see the schmucks laughing at her beneath their falsely grieving facades. Well, they can laugh all they like, I have Aikiko anyway and no way would I let anyone get near us with a bomb! It was not a big challenge acting out a dignified grieving widow publicly, she had done that in two films, but she eventually decided to just lock herself in front of the TV inside her room until it was time to go to the airport. She was mourning for a different reason. All she wanted was to return to the former island of Marlon Brando outside Papeete where she left Aikiko.

She was mourning for the lost orgasms with the true love of her life.



 January 21, 2010, 7 AM, Cedars- Sinai, Los Angeles

 ... Love, what is love? Why did I have to offer my love for you? Why was your life more important than mine? Why was it sweeter for me to die than losing you?.. Love... A mere neurotransmitter phenomenon, a scientist claimed... Why did the Dopamines and Norepinephrines in my brain determined life won't be worth living without you? They rather I died than them be deprived of the opportunity to secrete with the glorious stimulation provided by your presence? Was I so miserable to live with without you that they lost all sense of self-preservation at the prospect of losing you? ... Suicidal revolution of lovestruck neurotransmitters in my brain?... Or was it my heart? Was it tired of beating if not only for you?...

 Those thoughts were galloping in the mind of Tina almost all at once, as if reflected by a deranged projector, when she embraced Tony and felt the bullet in her back. But she just smiled at him, just wanting to see his face, perhaps for the last time, just wanting to be sure that he was alive, whispering "I love you, I love you", as she slumped down into his arms.

That was about three hours ago.

He never thought. How could anybody offer her life to somebody she loved? He couldn't begin to imagine the depth of love Tina must have been nurturing for him all along. For him. He did not know.

Tony looked at the calm face of Tina who was sleeping peacefully on her high-backed hospital bed, breathing raspily against the low hum of the respirators.

 I love you?

 It should be easy to say those words, shouldn't it? He just received a supreme sacrifice that he felt unsure whether deserved by his directionless existence. Perhaps it did? Perhaps it should?

Where do I begin...? 

It's been barely an hour since Tina was led out of the operating room. Fortunately, the bullet just punctured a back muscle & shattered a small part of the large intestine. No fatal intestinal bleeding, but the major problem will be possible infection later on as a result of the scattered fecal matter in the peritoneum. Nothing that the latest-generation antibiotics couldn't take care off, the surgeons assured him.

"I feared she would die," Patricia had swollen eyes beside him at the foot of Tina's hospital bed. It was Patricia who Tony called first thing after Tina was wheeled into the emergency room. Patricia could only curse her luck: since her mother died two days ago, she just had to cry non-stop. She stopped thinking about her face anymore. She could feel something also gave way on the right side. Something flapped now on both sides when she talked. Too bad there were too many cute doctors in the hospital. "Wife of a surgeon" would be a nice addition to her bragging rights. She must have her face fixed pronto. Perhaps she will just have to invent some illness so she will be confined here next time. She vaguely wondered how to engineer an inflammed appendix.

 "It's not yet her time." Tony remained staring at the peaceful face of Tina. Patricia wondered if he was afraid of what he might see if he glanced at her.

 "She's a strong woman," a particularly ghastly woman spoke from a chair by the window. She was introduced to her as Stella something, the head of the NGO where Tina worked. Patricia almost balked shaking her hand, she thought Stella looked like a nanny from Serbia or one of those parts.

"Why did he have to shoot her?" Patricia asked the first thing that came into her mind just to distract herself from the bleak apparition that was Stella.

 Tony thought it best to remain silent. The whole story will remain a secret forever. The bodyguard of Malcolm Frederick immediately shot down the killer, dead. It was one of the bodyguards of Helmut Schiller. Helmut Schiller wanted him dead. Why? And why there? Why didn't they wait for him to reach a deserted part of the highway? The presence of distinguished guests who could be witnesses did not discourage the perpetrators. Who were those people? 

He suspected Helmut did not want him to get far taking with him the old man's secret. Well, at least, Helmut Schiller died with an intact heterosexual reputation. When the police went to conduct their investigation, he was found dead in his private office with a self-inflicted gunshot to the mouth.

 The newspapers found it odd that that was exactly the same way that actor Rod Thompson had killed himself. One reporter even noted to his editor "just like Adolf Hitler had killed himself".

One thing Tony was sure of, he did not want to die old and fearful like Helmut Schiller. Was it because he suddenly felt his self-worth after having been the object of what he thought was a "supreme sacrifice"? Did he even love himself in the first place? Did he even know what love was all about? Was he worth loving after all? Was he even capable? If somebody could, why couldn't he? Oceans of questions. He felt drowned.

No way! 

 He suddenly remembered Philip.

There must be a way! 



January 21, 2012, 9 AM, Los Angeles 

Herbert Caldwell II was whistling in the dark. Lately, he liked doing his deep reflections early in the morning in his home office, the lights turned off, the curtains drawn, softly whistling.

 It was a boyhood habit. His father once reprimanded him that whistling in the dark meant he was "clueless". He refrained from doing it again but it reappeared just a couple of years ago. Still, he was certain he was not regressing into the more comfortable childhood phase of his life. Everything was in order in his affairs. He was not certain with the outside world though.

 It was almost comical, Herbert laughed silently. It was 2012, the world should be a happier and more progressive place than when it was ruled by "superstition" and supposedly "backward" people a few decades ago. But whatdyaknow, he chuckled. All the indicators seemed to show otherwise. The world was declining instead! 

 Sixty years after the end of the Second World War, and the end of the Western eugenicists' dream of a better world ensured by artificially selected supermen, everything now seemed to him in slow motion. The post-war years saw the rejection of Human Eugenics as a practical science with the championing of individual human rights becoming the cornerstone of Western civilization. Was the debate finished? He thought the human eugenicists might have been too arrogant in their objectives but he wondered if it was wise that the world would go directly to the opposite extreme. Could it still continue to progress despite the dilution of the system by the "weak" as feared by the eugenicists? Was the current decline an indicator of something dragging down on the system? How much was part of poor Post-War political calculations propping up impractical dogmatic assumptions?

 It amused him to entertain those thoughts. His family's foundation established the Human Rights Protection Monitor during the Cold War to work in the frontlines for the fight for Human Rights. Critics assailed it as tax shelter masquerading as patriotism. But America was assured of the moral ascendancy in that great fight. In any fight, for that matter. An eternal deodorant, his father loved to say. He inherited the chairmanship of the foundation but he did not yet divulge to anyone what was really playing in his mind.

 Suddenly, the low beeping of his private cellphone ripped his thoughts.

 "Her surgery was successful." It was Stella. She called early morning to inform him about what had happened to Tina.

 "So things are heating up, I can see."

 "The dead bodies are piling up. Everybody gay seems to be falling everywhere."

 "You saw any connection?"

 "Only three were murdered. Richard Gluck, Arthur Dandridge and Charles Murphy. The rest killed themselves."

 "You have theories?"

 "I do, Mr. Campbell. I'll give you the details when we meet for dinner tonight. I have important meetings for today. We have to bring cover to the efforts in 011 and 012."

Herbert knew those codes. Middle East, always these days.

 "You knew who's next in the line of fire?"

 Stella seemed to hesitate a moment. Then in a clear voice, she said: "As a matter of fact, I do!"



 January 21, 2012, 3 PM, Beverly Hills


 Subject: Antonio Calderon Jr. 
Initial Interview 

S: Sexual attraction to males 
O: Fairly nourished, fairly developed male with no feminine features or gestures 
A: Status Pre-Sexuality Conversion Therapy 
P: For possible Therapy

 "What's your motivation? Transforming one's sexual orientation is not like changing one's clothes. It can be done but if you don't have the right reason for it, you'll be wasting your time."

 "I finally decided I want to be a normal man... a normal heterosexual man."

 "You've always been sexually attracted to men?"

 "I never was sexually attracted to gay men. In fact, merely suspecting a guy could be gay makes me lose interest. I don't enjoy looking at unfamiliar nude models in the web or anywhere else because I puke if they turned out to be gay. I am only attracted to what I knew were real straight men."

 "Gay men also have penises..."

"Knockoffs. They repel me."

 "A matter of taste?"

 "Terminologies. I never was turned on by a penis not connected to a real straight man. I may see it but it might as well be a piece of meat in a butcher counter. You could say my hormones then were in a state of suspended animation. I always felt nausea whenever I learned later on that it belonged to a gay man."

 "Can you pinpoint when that nausea first got associated with a gay man?"

 "I'm not sure. I was handsome as a kid. Gays have always tried to seduce me since I was twelve and they always gave me the creeps."

 "How did you feel when you first noticed you got attracted to real men?"

 "It didn't give me sleepless nights. I was highly sexed and I could still have sex with a girl though there was no strong sexual attraction so I never dwelt on my attraction to straight men. My lack of sexual attraction to gay men and my disgust in just imagining sex with them probably convinced me I was not gay like them."

 "A gay man is not a real man to you?"

 "No!"

"You consider gays a separate sex then, a third gender?"

Silence.

Then: "Come to think of it now, yes."

 "You were attracted to real men but you couldn't have sex with a gay man but you could if you wanted to with girls even though there was no strong sexual attraction, am I right?"

 "Yes."

"You considered yourself bisexual then?"

 "It was a convenient label. But when it comes right down to it, I had negligible attraction to women. But just give me a hard-on and I'll have sex with them anytime. Despite my sexual behavior though, I considered myself homosexual 95% most of the time because my sexual attraction was stronger on men even during those times. With girls, it was more like masturbation. But strangely, I couldn't see myself in a romantic relationship with a man. I might as well punch him after I had an orgasm. It was purely sexual."

"Do you believe society has been unconsciously shaping your behavior and perception?"

 "If it did, it was for the better. I could have been worse off whispering sweet nothings to another man."

"Why so?"

 "I just felt like it. Thinking otherwise won't appeal either anyway. I am a contrarian by nature. If society disapproved it, I have no qualms doing it. I never came out not because I feared rejection from my family but I primarily didn't want to be identified and expected to socialize with gays. I only felt the need for a beard around them. I am a very private person anyway. I felt my sexuality is my own business."

 "You don't identify with queens?"

 "Why should I?"

"They're beneath you?"

 "Aren't they?"

 "They aren't equal to you?"

 "Are we in a pretentious tete a tete of the bored bourgeosie here?"

 "You don't feel the need to impress me with intellectual bullshit?"

 "Why should I?"

 "People need the intellectual bullshit so we could pretend we are equal."

 "As it is, I invent enough intellectual bullshit in my work. I need a break in real life."

 "You had girl friends even within the 95% time you were attracted to men?"

 "Always."

"How did you manage the sex?"

 "No need for Viagra. I developed a way of having erection with girls."

 "How so?"

 "It's all in the mind. It feels better pumping a girl's vagina than a man's behind anyway. So in effect, the only hitch was the excitation part. I could get excited focusing on myself and when I did have a hard on, I could enjoy sex with women."

 "All the time?"

 "I started having problems when I started taking in drugs and alcohol."

 "They interfered with your concentration? Or were they secondary to some deeper psychological problems?"

 "Probably both."

 "If you can still do it with a woman anyway, how come you consider yourself homosexual 95% most of the time?"

 "I could still reach orgasm masturbating though I'm not attracted to my hand."

 "So why do you still need to convert? You can function as it is. You may not get attracted full-time to a woman but you can have sex with her anytime. You can't get into an emotional relationship with a man anyway, so no need to fret about romantic relationships with him, you can just have sexual liaisons on the sly. Simple, isn't it?"

 "A friend... a former lover actually... who got converted called it a Zombie existence. Still walking but already dead."

 "Well, Frankenstein may not like being bypassed."

 "I felt it's time to deal with it once and for all. My friend told me it could be dealt with."

"Something earth-shaking happened, I assume?"

 Silence.

Then: "How should I put it? Somebody loved me so much I wanted her to deserve me?"

 "Ah... are we talking of love here?"

"I'm... not... so sure yet!"

 "I take it you've never fallen in love with a man before, right?"

"Never."

 "Not even with a woman?"

"Never."

 "You're 30. Are you sure you've not been repressing your feelings?"

"I don't know. I took things as they came and I reacted accordingly. I did not fear having sex with other men. There were only few men who could attract me sexually anyway. Though I saw them most of the day."

 "You hated yourself for having those feelings?"

 "Not really. I don't overthink things. I just told myself let's see how far it would go."

 "Your mind was doing the clamping on its own?"

 "Who can say?"

 "So why did you have to have sex with women at the times when you were attracted to men? Were you trying to prove something?"

 "Circumstance. They say I'm irresistible. They're everywhere offering themselves. It's different with a man. I am not just attracted to any man. He might be a gay man."

 Chuckles.

 "In Britain, there were 6% gays in 2005. In 2010, only 1% were left. It must be lonely being gay when so many were rushing back in."

 "I never had the slightest curiosity to check."

Laughter.

"There, the intricacies of sexuality for you. And society was always blamed."

 "I felt it was not crucial in my case."

The bespectacled man smiled.

 "A blessing very early in the game. Your case may just be the easiest to manage."

"Why is that so?"

 "You don't need much aversion therapy anymore. The defense mechanisms are built-in within you."

 "What do you mean?"

 "Well... How should I put it? I'm amazed your own body has high standards. But something is wedged within with which it is struggling against. Let's help it set itself free."



PROGRESS NOTES 

 Subject: Antonio Calderon Jr 

S: Sexual attraction to males 
O: Fairly nourished, fairly developed male with no feminine features or gestures 
A: Status Pre-Sexuality Conversion Therapy
 P: FOR THERAPY 



Next: Chapter 13-

Background Music 

This song by Russian pop star Stas Piekha is about separation while our novel at this point is all about building love out of nothing at all. Ironies of love & life. The Russian language has some of the most beautiful words in any language ("krasivaya" is Russian for "beautiful", for instance) and it ensures infinite textures to the deep feelings conveyed in a song. Russian is the last of the eight languages that I learned to speak fluently, just last year, but it has become one of my favorites. Reading Dostoeyevski and Sorokin in Russian was a wonder. Ironies of love & life, just like those tackled by the great Russian novels, have extraordinary layers of emotions when sung in Russian. A case in point is the song below. The title could be translated as "We broke up" but the literal translation is "We parted with you". Simple statement but right there you can see the beauty of the language: it's not just parting, we were one and now we must part... from you, BUT you will always be with me because I'm no longer the same ME after loving YOU!


Стас Пьеха - Мы расстались с тобой


Stas together with krasivaya Slava:

Стас Пьеха и Слава  - Я и Ты