penis altercations

andy pink, tulane —

obscene to the wein to the muscled and lean —

there is a celebrated essay by the cultural anthropologist clifford geertz about the balinese cockfight, which is not quite as fun as you might hope but as a smart writer of “deep description,” as would be said, he manages to weave the tales of the better halves of hens into insight about bali-penis and their pecks and pecs. it’s obviously normal to treat your live rooster like you might assert your own penis — especially boys in the locker room, though i doubt that the balinese had locker rooms at the time of the ethnography nor i would hazard do they even today as such a tribe has probably not finally grown up — but surely they had cocks and they had penises — and they had roosters and they had cocks — and so, as the several cultural anthropologists on this site can surely attest — men, according to professor geertz, treat their chickens like they treat their meats. young thin gay boys are sometimes referred to as “chickens” (though “twink” is more in the offing these days) — but i sometimes wonder whether a hawk of “chicken” to a twink is not props to the balinese (or perhaps to geertz). i have yet to meet a twink who knows of clifford geertz (or has a take on later “new ethnography”) — and worse, i suppose i would find such a young, hung, and full of cum blond less attractive if he had something to say about the death throes of an ever boring academic discipline.

obviously “penis” is a much more obscene word than either “dick” or “cock,” but i can’t figure out why that is, except perhaps that folks tend to say penis less frequently than prick. i find “prick” especially offensive (esp if uncut), i really try not to use that word. when i was a young buck in hensville, mass i used to say “dick” a lot but somehow i transitioned to “cock” and never really looked back until a few years ago when i decided to boldly go graphic in my classes — which required me to reign in my chicken and assert 7th grade health class. it’s such a thrill even today, years later, to say “penis” in class, the students often say “dick” (“cock” seems to not be very popular with children today) — but everyone knows that the greatest rush in the classroom is when i innocently utter “penis.” in some ways, starting wellbutrin 3 months ago has made me more horny but mostly textually; i jerk off less these days (seems such a hassle, waste of time, etc) — i just look and fancy and imagine being the smartest and funniest one in the room with a group of 18-26 boys and then there i am, in my classes, with about 15% having access to my sense of humor but 100% knowing that i am the smartest person they have yet to meet (though i will eventually be superseded). no one in their lives — not even their several boyfriends — will be able to utter the word “penis” with such talent and innocence — to make erotic pedagogy, this is my task and virtue.

can we move this over to text?

it is now about 5:00PM local time (it is true: i am on the east coast); i am now considering a lone wander into my local first night festivities. i imagine my local new yorkers will look at me and think: how could this boy be alone? it will make them wonder about my character, my socio-economic background, my health, my values, my politics, perhaps armpits and breath — i may even ruin a few new years from afar as these anonymous folks begin to meander beyond my individuality toward the greater sociality that has viciously rejected me — of late — making me lonely and frigid on a night. the other possibility is of a fellow phillyster who will jam his tongue down my throat as the testicle drops in manhattan. this will be a relief but will also require my first dental adventure of the new year to be flossing. i shall never look back.

i have decided to be in favor of the keystone (“transcanada”) pipeline for no other reason than that i plan to buy a used car in the new year. it is such a calming feeling to give up and still plow on. perhaps i will move to a farm; even my step-father would agree that i am million year old carbon. doesn’t the earth seem like the last of our concerns? it strikes me that environmentalists come from privileged backgrounds. i’ve never met a black environmentalist. i realize that it has become hack to say, but i should iterate in response to the clock: the apocalypse has already happened. in a way, we are all black environmentalists now.

i have finally been granted first nations status.

i will try to be in bed by 7:30 and ready and awake by 3:00 to prepare for the gym at 7:00. the gym bums will look at me, why would such a lithe young buck join a gym when it was obvious to the mourner on first night who jammed his tongue down this innocent’s throat — it’s obvious: “we have prayed for this man long enough — it is time for results” —

i found a gray ("silver") hair on my neck.

i vow to fuck a student this semester. preferably in a bathroom. it will make such a splendid entry! perhaps i will then finally come out with my full name, my true location, and my real collegiate employer! and a proper profile avatar. and then my auxiliary email address (craigslist only). and then my ex-boyfriend’s phone number. as i once said yesterday or the other day: “you either try to be andy warhol or you’re just another dickhead at the department meeting — and then you do both.” it’s the kind of thing the first miss yahoo serious might have said if she didn’t regret a divorce that she herself had initiated. i hate it when the wife doesn’t think about the kids.

i’d like to add a link to one of my favorite cock worship sites but i fear that it might be redirected — perhaps to astra z’s homepage. i wonder if they have in-house web management.

happy new year to those off their meds,

ap