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12.05.01 12:30 a.m.

Truly My Satan thou art a Dunce
And dost not know the Garment from the Man
Every Harlot was a Virgin once
Nor canst thou ever change Kate into Nan


 -William Blake  




This Entry Features: More life. The god of marriage being rent asunder. Plucked angels. Definition. Sobbing. Records skipping.

Dimensions Continued
In addition to my wants of late, I want to live in a different world. I want September eleventh to have never occurred. Not for the noble reasons other espouse, though I am not against them. But I am being wholly selfish here. I am damned tired of living in this jingoistic, paranoid, freedom-depriving country. Men and women are attacked verbally and physically for exercising their right to free speech, merely because they are saying we should not be retaliating militarily. Let's for a moment put aside whether or not it is appropriate for the United States to be blowing the holy fuck (I choose my words carefully, I do) out of "enemy" targets. The United States should be protecting our rights, else they are the enemy. Emily jokingly suggests holding a coup because the Constitution grants citizens the right to do so against tyrannical government. When I hear that J. Edgar Ashcroft has a sudden interest in bugging private citizens' telephone and e-mail, I feel tyranny's iron glove creeping closer. To paraphrase Franklin, anyone asking you to give up some freedom for safety will grant you neither.
I want to resume living is a calm world where my biggest concern it passing all of my classes. I do not want to look at tall structures or large public events as terrorist targets. I much preferred when only conspiracy freaks worried about such things. This is not a suitable world.

But Madonna *Is* A Whore
This evening, I received a rather frenzied call from Miss Sarah. Instantly, she sounded very different. However, I attributed it to an altered state of mind or an illicit substance. Often, these are immensely safe bets. However, such was not the case tonight.
In less than thirty seconds, she revealed twice that she had had "The Sex." I find the addition of a definite article prior to the word "sex" verbally annoying. Let's see what the dictionary has to tell us:

the
def.art.

    1. Used before singular or plural nouns and noun phrases that denote particular, specified persons or things: the baby; the dress I wore.
    2. Used before a noun, and generally stressed, to emphasize one of a group or type as the most outstanding or prominent: considered Lake Shore Drive to be the neighborhood to live in these days.
    3. Used to indicate uniqueness: the Prince of Wales; the moon.
    4. Used before nouns that designate natural phenomena or points of the compass: the weather; a wind from the south.
    5. Used as the equivalent of a possessive adjective before names of some parts of the body: grab him by the neck; an infection of the hand.
    6. Used before a noun specifying a field of endeavor: the law; the film industry; the stage.
    7. Used before a proper name, as of a monument or ship: the Alamo; the Titanic.
    8. Used before the plural form of a numeral denoting a specific decade of a century or of a life span: rural life in the Thirties.
  1. Used before a singular noun indicating that the noun is generic: The wolf is an endangered species.
    1. Used before an adjective extending it to signify a class and giving it the function of a noun: the rich; the dead; the homeless.
    2. Used before an absolute adjective: the best we can offer.
  2. Used before a present participle, signifying the action in the abstract: the weaving of rugs.
  3. Used before a noun with the force of per: cherries at $1.50 the box.

[Middle English, from Old English the, alteration (influenced by th-, oblique case stem of demonstrative pron.), of se, masculine demonstrative pron.; see so- in Indo-European Roots.]

Well, yes, it is a definite person or thing. It is some lad named Tom who was mentioned only in passing once or twice. Meaning 1a taken care of. It evidently was rather prominent to Sarah, as this was her first time. And second time. Meaning 1b put to bed, as it were. While they did it twice, I suppose it implies a degree of uniqueness. Meaning 1c crossed off the exceptions list. Sex is a natural function. Meaning 1d sent to the land of wind and ghosts. Sarah seemed pretty darned possessive of Tom's parts of the body. 1e is not appendecular. Certainly partaking of carnal pleasures is a field of endeavor. 1f enjoyed. 1g I cannot put on a pedestal. It doesn't seem to fit. In addition, I am very much doubting it lasted very long. Certainly not epochal enough to warrant 1h. 2 seems to fit, in that sex is generic, especially sex with someone one is not actually in love with. In addition, the example of endangered wolves is too precious to pass up. Sex is not a class, nor does class have much to do with this story. 3a is untouchable. 3b? I'm thinking it was not exactly the best one can offer. 4 perhaps is the most telling. An abstract action may be the best description I have heard of sex in years. 5 makes me think of cats purring, which draws the obvious synonymical reference.
So, perhaps her use is appropriate. It is still verbally annoying. As such, I will ask you to mentally inflict "sex" with this definite article every time I use it in this part of the entry.
So, as I have begun to state above, on the twenty-seventh on November, thereabout, Miss Sarah deigned to give her body and much vied after maidenhead to a man by the name of Tom. From her telling, she knew forever such would go down (do pardon my phrasing) blah blah blah prophesy-cakes. We do not believe her, as she would have maintained a month ago that the privilege would certainly belong to Jake or Ben. However, a silver-white eagle flew off of a sign and disappeared, coupled with Tom's mother making vague allusions to an attraction. Damned well could have come inscribed in stone, sent from on high. Sex needed to be had.
So, sex was had. It was excruciatingly painful and likely unnecessarily bloody, but it was had. Sarah said it was the closest she has ever come to god in all possible meanings. I stated that is there was this level of unpleasantness, it likely meant that her body was not ready and that she didn't really want to do this just yet; she was rushing. She brushed that off, stating that her mind did even if her body did not.
She stated numerous times that she now wanted (I'm sorry, the statement loses some objectification if I do not do this myself) The Sex frequently. She did not want to make love. We spoke for a good hour and forty-five minutes before she ever chose to use this term, as fact I pointed out to her. She stated, matter-of-factly, that this was because she had not made love, she had sex. She preached to me that I do not know what it is like to just have sex without loving someone, and told me how great it was. That I was missing something. This is one of those philosophies that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up when I hear someone I erstwhile respect sharing it.
Despite the adolescent fervor with which she now comports herself, in all seriousness, to be a sex machine, she retains her self-awareness. Her saving graces, as it were.
She has an addictive personality. She is the sort that dies very young and very tragically because there is no way that she will ever become old. She has experimented and enjoyed every sort of drug at least once, but retains this sort of control. Still, she is as addicted to life and aspects of it as I am. No, scratch that, she is far worse. So the introduction of this pleasurable activity that not only feels splendid, but grants her coquettish control over boys (sex has been this girl's tool since she got over her awkward phase), has led her to become a nymphomaniac, at least temporarily.
She bitched (for that is the only proper word) that Tom had went off and she wanted to bed him again. He is having issues because he broke up with his girlfriend of a year and a half only two short weeks ago. I asked Sarah if she knew she was rebound sex. She acknowledged that this was indeed a part of it, which surprised me. Anyway, she bitched that she could have sex with any boy she wanted to but the boy she wanted to have sex with was brooding. I reminded her that she wouldn't want to have sex with him if he was not the time to lament and brood over this; that she enjoyed corrupting him and causing him this strife as much as she enjoyed the act itself.
Another factor that leads to my having pause toward the whole situation is that Sarah bragged to be that this completed a cycle. Jake had taken the chastity of Tom's girlfriend when they were both 15, presumably before Tom knew this girl. So, as Tom had now obliterated Sarah's virginity, Sarah was with Jake. No, really, it makes sense to her. I'm not saying I get it. It should be mentioned that Tom's ex and Jake were both informed of Sarah's change in sexual status.
Sarah is, more or less, plotting her future conquests. I don't believe I am on the list, in case you were curious. I don't quite think I would like if I were. Sarah said that she would likely stop once she got to Ben, and then wed him. I teased that she was frightening me, as she once bemoaned my joking asking for her hand.
What, perhaps, bothers me most about Sarah's actions is that she behaved the most arrogantly in my presence that I have ever experienced. She saw herself as this beautiful witch who could shape her reality to suit her. But she seems disconnected with the humility and humanity she once had. She forgets that she was once the unpopular, overweight girl that I alone loved and tried to kiss. That I wanted to hear sing only to me when everyone else was screaming for her to sing Top 20 Jewel songs. She neglects the history of her soul, in my opinion. I worry, and maybe hope for her sake, that she will get some sort of comeuppance because of her arrogance.
I do not want my Sarah to be a slut, I confess. I want her to have incredible experiences and drink deep the cup of life. But I have the hardest time believing she will be best served with empty sexual encounters.
See, I do have a sense of morality.

Likely Plucking the Feathers of the Only Angel I Know
Today, Emily sobbed on me, at first only admitting that she was stressed over her test and her mother telling her that she had better not gain any weight. Real supportive, M's mom. Finally, Emily got to the root of what was bothering her: my prior entry.
She half-sighed out that she worried that I was going to leave her, that I did not love her, and so on. I assured her that I would tell her as much, if I did not want to be with her. I am an honest lad, as I hope one can see from my journal. There was a lot to it, that I don't feel a need to relate to you. I felt incredibly guilty for not being the ideal I aspire to, and cried a bit myself.
She also stated that she was furiously jealous of Kate (more likely she meant Katie, but you know what she means) for having had this passionate relationship with me. I reminded Emily that Katie and I were fighting almost as much as we were kissing, that my prior relationship was fraught with many problems (albeit different ones), that it was far from ideal. I remember days with Katie that I honestly thought that I would rather die than be in the amount of pain she gave me.
Emily stated that she knew these things, but still wanted me to feel like that toward her. Days ago, she said something similar to me, and I told her that it had taken me quite a long time to feel the way I did for Katie, this consuming love. When we began dating, I thought Katie was to be nothing more than a rebound crush. I thought she was dating other men. I thought she was far more sexually experienced than I was. She, evidently, thought I would just be some silly boy she used as a fling and forget about. Neither one of us remembered to leave the other and we became as entwined, as would explain my post-Katean condition. That didn't mean she and I didn't fight furiously. That my entire chest sometimes burned because I could not release the needles and vitriol that accumulated within. That I was happy or whole.
Much as I meant this to soothe Emily, and though she promised me that she understood this and was just happy to be with me, it does not seem that this has occurred. I worry that I am painting Emily into the corner I occupied in my relationship with Kate and cannot forgive myself if this is so.
For the record, I do love her. For the record, I do not currently have any intention of leaving her. For the record, I have no intention of marrying anyone right now. For the record, I have no interest, romantic or sexual, in anyone other than Emily right now.
For the record, I still feel slimy, yet arid, inside.



Soon in Xenology: I hang out with Zack and Melissa. Perhaps not at the same time. I see the inside of Sarah's apartment and hope that she is the girl I grew to love. I have a birthday. The semester ends. I visit the city. I muse on occupational responsibility. Perhaps a riff on cults.



last watched: a bag that said, "the most beautiful thing I have ever seen" blow in the background.
reading: Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates Tom Robbins
listening: my mother sleeping
wanting: that damned computer to be in my room already.
interesting thought: people die for the abstract and from it.
moment of zen: having scalding hot soup poured on me and reacting calmly and politely.
someday I must: realize that old crushes are rarely crushing.

Thomm Quackenbush is an author and teacher in the Hudson Valley. Double Dragon publishes four novels in his Night's Dream series (We Shadows, Danse Macabre, and Artificial Gods, and Flies to Wanton Boys). He has sold jewelry in Victorian England, confused children as a mad scientist, filed away more books than anyone has ever read, and tried to inspire the learning disabled and gifted. He is capable of crossing one eye, raising one eyebrow, and once accidentally groped a ghost. When not writing, he can be found biking, hiking the Adirondacks, grazing on snacks at art openings, and keeping a straight face when listening to people tell him they are in touch with 164 species of interstellar beings. He likes when you comment.



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