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October 16, 2001
Patrick
Cockburn
The
Battle of Mazar-i-Sharif
John
Troyer
Return
to Normal?
Moji Agha
A
Jihad Against Ignorance
October
15, 2001
Tariq
Ali
Alternatives
to War
John
Pilger
War
American Style
Umberto
Eco
The
Roots of Conflict
Marwan
Bishara
Clash
of Civilizations? Hardly
Patrick
Cockburn
Modern
War in
A Medieval Village
October
13, 2001
Carl
Estabrook
Letters
to Editors
Molly
Secours
War:
The Procter and Gamble Perspective
Alexander
Cockburn
War
Can't Save the Economy
October
12, 2001
Imran
Khan
Try
Them in Court
Vijay
Prashad
War
in a Passive Voice
Patrick
Cockburn
Bombing
the Taliban
October
11, 2001
David
Vest
Bob
Dylan and 9/11
Amb.
Edward Peck
Bush
War Plan "Dumb"
Hani
Shukrallah
West
Is As West Does
Patrick
Cockburn
Looming
Humanitarian Crisis
October
10, 2001
Cockburn/St.
Clair
The
Empire Strikes Back
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Ridge Long Groomed
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Cheney's Job
Those CIA Killing
Bids
Never Stopped
The Not-So-Great
Mayor Giuliani
Crop Duster
Ban
Will Save Lives
Madeleine Albright's
Deadly Legacy
How the Bin
Laden Women
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A CounterPunch
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A Word About
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A Pocket Guide to
Environmental Bad Guys
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October 16,
2001
Sex Not
Bombs
By Dr.
Susan Block
It's been a month since America was attacked,
and though most of the ashes have gone to dust, for the most
part, the terror has not. If anything, it has increased and multiplied
into a complex network of fears, phobias, anxieties, questions.
Who did this to us? When will they strike again? Where will they
strike again? How will they strike again? What kind of people
would do this? Who's behind it? Who knows about it? Who's paying
for it? Who's willing to die for it? What aren't we being told
about them? And why oh why, do they hate us so?
And what about us? What do we do now?
How do we protect ourselves, defend ourselves, avenge ourselves,
heal ourselves? Just how much of our freedom will we exchange
for the illusion that we are keeping the terror at bay? How many
more people will we imprison? How many rights will we give up?
And how the hell do we fight back? How do we fight the terror?
These are the questions we see in the media, mainstream and underground,
not to mention the anxious eyes and bitten lips of everyone we
know.
But there's another question that always
nags at my horny heart whenever something important happens,
and the current disaster is no exception: What does SEX have
to do with it? Oh, scoff if you will, but sex has a lot to do
with it, and I'm not talking about sex scandals a la Gary Condit
(Gary who?); I'm talking about sex as the essence of life, the
supreme motivator, the greatest good and the evil impulse, the
dirtiest alleyway and the holiest temple, the Bonobo Way versus
acting like a Baboon.
What does sex have to do with America
attacked? What does sex have to do with a young man in the prime
of his life who believes that his wife-if he can afford one,
or four-should be shut up in a tent, uneducated, unseen? Who
thinks that if he expends his righteously raging libido in a
terrible violent, homicidal-suicidal act in the name of a macho
male God, that he will be rewarded in heaven with a harem of
beautiful virgins, there to serve his every desire in an erotic
eternal paradise? What does sex have to do our being attacked?
What does sex have to do with having our two tallest phallic
works of architecture-our biggest dicks (the biggest in the world?)--blown
up before our early morning eyes on international TV, over and
over again, wounding us where it really hurts, using our own
planes like the castrator's boxcutter to slice into our soaring
symbols of virile trade, forcing a ghastly, fiery sort of ejaculation,
a gush of smoke, body parts and pain, a volcanic eruption of
awful beauty (beauty has no morals), a castration, a degradation,
a humiliation beyond death. Though the deaths of the more than
6000 are painful enough, this international, multi-billion-fold
humiliation is a bitter salt on our wounds, the humbling of America,
the lone superpower, Master of the World, the Man.
We are all men in America, all strong
compared to the poor of the world, and we have all had our big
dicks cut off. Suddenly. Without warning (well, we didn't feel
warned). And it hurts. Real bad. And we cry, oh how we cry. And
we pray, oh how we pray. And we're scared, oh so scared. And
we talk stupid when we're scared. We're a bunch of raving castrati.
Our leaders talk about crusades and ridding the world of evil.
Our politicians beat the drums of war, against whom, we're not
quite sure yet, but war is on the horizon. And this is a "different
war," yes, a war being fought by civilians taking planes,
going to work, taking the kids to school, buying stocks, having
sex, braving the terror. A different kind of war where the casualties
are civilians, and not just any civilians, but American civilians.
At least, we haven't bombed anybody...yet. In these weeks after
the public, painful slashing of our manhood, America has not
gone off half-cocked; indeed, we have shown admirable restraint...so
far. Of course, using medieval slurs and cowboy taunts to express
our efforts to combat world terrorism doesn't help us Wounded
Warriors get the international support we so desperately need
right now.
On the other hand, we've also got some
ravers on the other side, people trying to cauterize the wound
by saying America deserves this. Nobody deserves this. Then there
are the too-hip lefties romanticizing the Taliban, a bunch of
small-time fascist, woman-hating thugs. Having spent a month
in Afghanistan, I can personally say that I have long admired
the Afghan people, and anyway, they're just people. But I put
the Taliban ideology on the same level of the food chain as Jerry
Falwell who I'm now calling Jerry bin Foulwill, since he's clearly
shown us whose side he's on by saying that the attacks on America
were the will of God. Hey, with Gods like this, who needs Satan?
Like the outlandishly violent baboon,
Jerry's, the Taliban's and the warmonger's response to attack
is to attack back-even if you attack the wrong people--which
creates the need for another attack and so on. For years, America's
had this double-oceanic cushion that seemed to keep us mainland
civilians out of harm's way, so we could attack without being
attacked back. But those oceans are worthless now. The enemies
are among us. If we attack, we'll be attacked back from within.
Perhaps this "different kind of
war" needs to be fought in a different way. Not according
to the more typical military paradigm of the baboon, but according
to The Bonobo Way. Unlike baboons, common chimpanzees and humans,
bonobo chimps (who are 98% genetically similar to humans) don't
make war, and they've never been seen killing each other in the
wild or captivity (so far; we've only just recently discovered
them). They do fight, but they seem to resolve most disputes
by exchanging sex. Sexual pleasure reduces violent tension, mollifying
the less powerful as well as paying obeisance to the more powerful.
The Bonobo Way is to spread the wealth, sexually and otherwise.
Of course, sex is always a great healer,
a comfort, affirmation of life in the midst of death, a much-needed
release of tension, and a great way to share the wealth of pleasure.
In the midst of wartime or other disasters, people tend to crave
sex more than ever, partly because fear is a great aphrodisiac
(see Fear & Sex for more on that subject), and partly because
there's a primal instinct within us to procreate when we feel
our world might end, and that instinct remains even when we're
on birth control. As the bonobos might say if we could speak
each other's languages, when all seems hopeless, sex gives us
hope, helping us to make a positive human connection, however
fleeting, superficial or "sinful" some say it is.
Of course, we can't send a battalion
of beautiful, sexually compliant virgins over to mollify all
these desperately poor, horny and angry young terrorists so they
won't even think about killing themselves to get some heavenly
action (or could we?). But we can send good stuff, food, medicine
and other forms of aid to the people, especially now that our
warmongering has created a refugee crisis on all the Afghan borders.
We can replace our occupying forces with bags of grain and winter
boots. Personally, I'd like to send over a few boxes of vibrators
(batteries included) for those poor, shut-up Taliban women, but
I guess I should be more respectful of their taboos, just as
I want them to be respectful of my trade centers, not to mention
shopping centers.
We Americans can be raging castrati,
or we can show ourselves to be world leaders in greatness, generosity,
courage and wisdom. We can let all the caring countries of the
world, as well as all the jeering countries of the world, know
that yes, we're hurt (who wouldn't be?). And yes, we need your
support. And yes, we acknowledge that America is not the boss
of the world. No one is, not God, not Allah, not McDonald's,
not Mammon, not even Eros. It's a small, small world with a lot,
a lot of people, and we all have to try to get along. In a world
where the underdogs practice military aikido, skillfully using
one's opponent's strength and size against him, the biggest kids
on the block have to try the hardest to get along.
We can do this, at least we can try this,
and I continue to hold a candle in hope that we will. Though
my terror of the next attack--ours or theirs (what difference
does it make when attack follows attack?)-remains
Dr. Susan Block
is a sex educator, host of the Dr. Susan Block radio show, and
author of Being a Woman. Visit her website at: http://www.drsusanblock.com/
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