Reflections on the Passing of Fidel Castro

Hola mi Gente,
I woke up late this morning (I’m struggling to get up) to discover that Fidel Castro passed away at the ripe old age of 90. My newsfeeds and social media platforms are rife with anti-Castro propaganda. Let’s be clear here, the only reason the corporate media demonizes Castro is not because of his alleged human rights violations, but because he stood up to US imperialism and lived to talk about it. If the US was so concerned with human rights, it would not be enslaving and murdering innocent people here and across the globe.

I have two things to say. One: Are the Cuban people better off today than they were before the revolution? I think the facts (i.e., healthcare, literacy, life expectancy, autonomy, etc.) clearly show they are. Secondly, yeah, Fidel Castro was so evil he offered to send doctors and medical supplies to help victims of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, while George W. Bush, who declined his offer, watched poor black people die from the safety of an airplane.

That last one was me being facetious, yeah. Along with Castro’s passing, there will be the usual “debates” on socialism and communism (most US citizens don’t know the difference). Along with those discussions will come the inevitable expression/ belief that capitalism is not only superior, but an inevitable feature of the human condition. Fidel and I disagree… 

Capitalism and Rape

Greed is good.
-- Gordon Gekko, Wall Street

Nobody in the world, nobody in history, has ever gotten their freedom by appealing to the moral sense of the people who were oppressing them.
― Assata Shakur, Assata: An Autobiography 

[Note: A blind adherence to the virtues of “free markets” is symptomatic to neoliberal thought. Below, in an essay I adapted several years ago, I try to uncover the faulty reasoning behind the dogma.]

Consider the following:

Rape is a basic and necessary expression of human nature. Sexual assaults have been present in every society since the dawn of time. It is the natural drive of man to reproduce, to compete successfully for advantage in the marketplace of life and evolution. In fact, it is this innate compulsion to reproduce that motivates man to do anything productive and worthwhile in the first place.

It is this competitive drive that motivates man to aspire to greatness. Can you imagine men striving for greatness were they not motivated by their drive to reproduce by any means? Of course not, because the drive to reproduce is at the very core of mankind’s fundamental nature. As long as we disregard childish “God” superstitions and recognize that a man is ultimately responsible only to and for himself, we therefore recognize that any measures that attempt to suppress this natural and intrinsic drive to reproduce by any means are inherently wrong.

To suppress sexual assaults is the perverse anti-human dream of the superstitious rabble. In fact, no human society has successfully eliminated rape, despite innumerable measures designed to curb sexual assaults. If man were only truly free to pursue this integral part of his nature we would walk as the masters of the Earth that we are.

Anyone with a relatively functioning forebrain will see that this is a painfully faulty and dangerous chain of reasoning. Just because the drive to reproduce is inherent in humans, it doesn’t follow that sexual assault and rape stem from that drive and are a part of human nature. Furthermore, that every society has been beset by sexual assault and none has successfully eliminated rape, doesn’t necessarily mean that sexual assault and rape are things that should be encouraged, or that there wouldn’t be disastrous and apocalyptic consequences were people given carte blanche to rape.

Now, reread the above but this time replace every occurrence of the words “sexual assault” with the words “free markets,” and replace every occurrence of the word “rape” with “capitalism,” and every occurrence of the word “reproduce” with “acquire wealth.” It is now word-for-word the position of economic neoliberal types such as Clinton, Trump, and Obama. You will find this same line of thought in rationales against universal healthcare, for example, and free postsecondary education.

Well, boys and girls: what have we learned? First, my aim here is not merely to equate capitalism with rape (not a bad area to explore in future writings). Rather, my goal is to point out fallacious reasoning. Certain things might be inherently part of human nature or cannot be completely eliminated, but that isn’t a sufficient condition for a logically cohesive argument that should be encouraged. If you want to argue that they should be encouraged, you must give other reasons.

The other reason for this is the unthinking and reactionary response of “socialism doesn’t work,” which displays an ignorance of the enormous and diverse body of economic and ethical thought outside of the current U.S. political and moral paradigm.

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization… 

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The Friday Sex Blog [Happiness Sex]

Hola! Everybody...

OK! Normally, I ignore most of what evolutionary psychology has to say because they are utter pan-adaptationists. Some have even used this proclivity to “rationalize” rape and other seriously fucked up behaviors. However, I couldn’t let this one go... 

Seminal Antidepressant

 Or: Why Swallowers are Happier

Most of my female readers are probably familiar with the McClintock effect, also known as the “dormitory effect.” It’s the discovery of the phenomenon wherein the menstrual cycles of women living in close quarters tend to synchronize. This phenomenon has been observed in women living together. It has been found in roommates, close friends, and most strongly between mothers and daughters. It has also been noted in mice, hamsters, and rats. It  has been suggested that ovulation (the process of releasing an egg from the ovary) is socially regulated and this leads to what is called menstrual synchronicity. In other words, women who live together will have their periods at the same time (there's even a FB page dedicated to this effect).

A couple of researchers developed an interest in the psychological properties of semen as a result in their exploration of menstrual synchrony. Gordon Gallup and Rebecca Burch, evolutionary psychologists from the State University of New York, had stumbled onto data showing that, unlike heterosexually active women residing together, sexually involved lesbians failed to show evidence of the “McClintock effect.” Since olfactory signals (called pheromones) are known to mediate menstrual synchrony, the authors found this peculiar.

They wanted to know what it was about heterosexual females that promoted menstrual synchrony, or conversely what is it about lesbians that prevented menstrual synchrony. It occurred to them that one feature that distinguishes heterosexual women from lesbians is the presence or absence of semen in the female reproductive tract. Lesbians have semen-free sex.

Gallup and Burch hypothesized that chemicals in human semen affect female biology in such a way that women who have condomless sex literally start to smell different from those women who do not -- or at least, their bodies emit the pheromones that neurologically imprint menstrual cycles among cohabitating women. Gallup and Burch quickly discovered that although much was known about basic semen chemistry, virtually nothing was known about how these chemicals might influence female biology, behavior, and psychology.

It has been known for a very long time that the vagina is an ideal route for drug delivery. An impressive vascular network surrounds the vagina: arteries, blood vessels, and lymphatic vessels abound, and -- unlike some other routes of drug administration -- chemicals that are absorbed through the vaginal walls have an almost direct line to the body’s circulatory system. Taking this into consideration, Gallup and Burch surmised that, as with any artificially derived chemical substance, semen might also have certain chemical properties that affect female biology.

Bear in mind that although they are often erroneously mistaken in everyday language, “semen” is not the same thing as “sperm.” In fact, only about 1 to 5 percent of the average human ejaculate consists of sperm cells. The rest of the ejaculate is referred to as “seminal plasma.” So in discussing the chemical composition of semen, it is the plasma itself, not the spermatozoa, that is at issue. 

It turns out that, in fact, that semen has a very complicated chemical profile, containing over 50 different compounds (including hormones, neurotransmitters, endorphins, and immunosupressants) each with a special function and occurring in different concentrations within the seminal plasma. The most conspicuous of these compounds is the bundle of mood-enhancing chemicals in semen. There is much good in my jism, it seems. These include, but are by no means limited to, cortisol (known to increase affection), estrone (which elevates mood), prolactin (a natural antidepressant), oxytocin (also known as the “love chemical” which elevates mood), thyrotropin-releasing hormone (another antidepressant), melatonin (a sleep-inducing agent) and even serotonin (perhaps the most well-known antidepressant neurotransmitter).

Given the composition of semen, and this is just a small sample of the mind-altering drugs found in human semen, Gallup and Burch, along with psychologist Steven Platek, hypothesized that women having unprotected sex should be less depressed than suitable control participants. To investigate whether semen has antidepressant effects, the authors rounded up 293 college females from the SUNY-Albany campus, who agreed to fill out an anonymous, written questionnaire about various aspects of their sexual behavior. Recent sexual activity without condoms was used as an indirect measure of seminal plasma circulating in the woman’s body. Each participant also completed the Beck Depression Inventory, a commonly used clinical measure of depressive symptoms.

Now, I think you know where I’m going with this, right? LOL 

The most significant findings from this 2002 study was that sexually active (non-condom-using) women also showed fewer depressive symptoms than did those who abstained from sex altogether. By contrast, sexually active women, even really promiscuous ones, who used condoms were just as depressed as those practicing total abstinence. In other words, it’s not just that women who are having sex are simply happier, but instead happiness appears to be a function of the ambient seminal fluid pulsing through one’s veins.

My ding dong, dear ladies, is a happiness drug dispenser! LOL I’m kidding! Let me add that similar studies looking into oral and anal sex (heterosexual and homosexual) resulted in similar findings. This lends credence to my assertion that “spitters are quitters.” Sorry, I just can’t help myself, the jokes write themselves here. LOL

So! What do we get from all this (aside from the realization that you can call me for some serotonin uptake)? Well, that in addition to suffering some muscle atrophy you might also experience some depressive episodes if you’re not getting your fair measure of semen. Don’t you just love it?!! Actually, the study is plagued by a number of methodological issues, but I had to grab onto it. LOL I also am not suggesting depression isn't a serious issue, I'm just having a little fun. One highly respected surgeon, however, lost his job for making similar jokes.

Well, that’s it for today, boys and girls! Remember: sex is good for you!

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization… 

References

Bering, J. (2010 September 22). An ode to the many evolved virtues of human semen. Scientific American, 31, 289-293. (here)

Gallup, G. G., Jr., Burch, R. L., & Platek, S. M. (2002). Does Semen Have Antidepressant Properties? Archives of Sexual Behavior, 31(3), 289-293. (here)

Awakenings

¡Hola mi Gente!

I usually post this around this time of year… it’s a Thanksgiving tradition of sorts on this blog. Sometimes, when I think this too self-indulgent, or clichéd (I am a walking cliché, it seems), someone will send me a message usually beginning like so: “I read your blog and I never comment… ” (LOL!) and it never fails, someone will tell me that reading the following helped them, or they shared it with someone they thought it could help. So… here goes.

* * *

Redemption Song

My life is my message

The cliché that life is stranger than fiction is true enough. I guess that is why they are clichés — they are true, if nothing else. And believe me: my life has been pretty much “strange.”

Thanksgiving Day has its own personal meaning for me, as I am certain it does for everyone. Actually, Thanksgiving Day has layers of meaning. First, there is the “we’re thankful that no one forced us to completely assimilate to their culture and then celebrate by stealing our land and killing our people,” meaning, and we should never forget that…

On another level, people of Puerto Rican descent have traditionally taken US holidays and used them as opportunities to express our own cultural identity. For example, Puerto Ricans will eschew the traditional holiday fare of turkey and potatoes and substitute lechon and pasteles, Puerto Rican culinary staples. If we do cook turkey, we cook it pavo-chon-style — a turkey prepared in a manner that makes it taste like lechon (pork suckling). Also, the holidays are always a chance to celebrate our music, our unique forms of dancing, and kinship ties. Therefore, Puerto Ricans subvert the mythical (actually genocidal) Thanksgiving and give it their own meaning. And as humans that’s what we do best, we create meaning.

Thanksgiving Day is also now primarily identified as a secular all-inclusive day of expressing appreciation for life and having gratitude for the things we need to live a happy and healthy life. As a Latino, the cultural values of extended family ties and Thanksgiving evoke childhood memories of large (and often hilariously insane) family get-togethers.

However, for me Thanksgiving holds its most significant meaning on a very personal level. You see, it was around this time twenty-three years ago that I experienced the first of a series of “spiritual awakenings” that would change my life. The exact date is November 26, 1990 and this significant date often happens to fall on or near Thanksgiving Day. A couple of weeks before that fateful day, on a cold, drizzly November day, I was so overcome with despair that I considered and attempted suicide. It is actually a little funny: As I climbed over the rail on the Brooklyn Bridge’s pedestrian walk (it’s not easy to jump off that damned bridge!), I was so skinny from malnutrition and years of substance abuse that a strong wind knocked me back to the pedestrian walkway on my ass. I saw this, not even being able to kill myself, as the ultimate failure which gives you an idea of my state of mind at the time.

I walked away from that only to opt for a more torturous suicide: the daily act of chasing that White Lady, Heroin. Ensnared by my warped thinking, I had this fear that I would botch up my own suicide and merely succeed in paralyzing myself, damning myself to chase drugs from the disadvantage of a wheelchair. In fact, I remember another addict who was in a wheelchair. I decided I would make someone else put myself out of my misery.

And though I speak lightly today of that time, I was extremely miserable. I do not believe in a God in the traditional Christian/ Judeo sense – an anthropomorphic omnipotent super being. Yet back then I would pray each night that some Higher Power would find it in its mercy to take my life me my sleep. Still, every day I awoke to my pain and despair. I would always wake up sick and broke, but somehow manage to spend $300 by the end of the day, feeding a merciless heroin habit.

If you are wondering, in the end I fed my drug habit by ripping off drug-dealers, never a safe proposition. One day a victim of one of my swindles threatened me with a gun. I grabbed the gun by the barrel, put it to my forehead, and begged him to shoot. All I asked was that he made sure to kill me because, “You would be doing me a favor.”

This occured in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded New York City street. I remember a crowd forming and people screaming; but what I remember most was thinking that this was my way out. “Do it,” I yelled. He pulled the trigger and…

Nothing happened.

I don’t know if the gun jammed or if it wasn’t loaded, whatever the reason, the gun failed to discharge. My would-be assistant “suicider” freaked out, yanked the gun from my hands, and walked away, calling me crazy. I called at him, let him know he could get another chance. That’s how much I wanted to die…

I thought I could do nothing right.

That wasn’t the worst of it, my life continued to bottom out until November 26th, 1990 when I experienced an incident so traumatic it would change me and my world in an inexplicable way. Actually, most people would consider the events that transpired on that drizzly, dreary November day as a defeat. Very simply, after being released from prison for exactly fourteen days, I was re-arrested. It was also that last day of my active addiction — the last day I took a drug.

I didn’t know it then but it was the beginning of a new life: a life that today is far from perfect, that has suffering, illness, death, and many challenges, but also contains an invincible of joy at its core. This is part of the reason I do the work that I do. I know even the worst of us have the potential to liberate ourselves from our own self-made prisons. And let me be clear: we’re all “doing time” in some way, we all wear shackles. To a degree, we all enact patterns of behavior or carry the proverbial baggage.

No, I am not a religious person. My personal view is that religion is for people who are afraid of hell and spirituality is for those who have already been there. I simply try to be the best person I can be on a daily basis and oftentimes I fall short of the mark. However, my intentions are usually good and my direction somewhat orderly — I try to live a life centered on compassion for others, personal growth, and self-actualization.

On that day, twenty-three years ago, I had no way of knowing of the possibility of life as it has manifested itself today. There is joy in my life today. It’s a joy independent of any person, place, or thing. On the surface I can be sad, happy, angry, disappointed, disgusted — I can be experiencing any number of attachments — but at the center, at the very core of me, there is an invincible joy greater than any drug-induced high I have ever experienced. And believe me, coming from me, that’s saying a lot.

On that day, sitting there in the midst of total failure and utter humiliation, I came undone. And that was a good thing, because in experiencing complete obliteration I became open to something more than my small self. In emptying myself, I came to see that what I perceived as emptiness was in reality my innate potential as a human being.

I am genuinely grateful. This past year, as with all years, has been a challenging. I have experienced sadness, frustration, happiness, love, rejection (the full catastrophe!). I could easily surmise, if I were so disposed, that my life, that life itself, sucks. But that’s a coward’s lie. Life is a gift — probably the most precious of gifts. My life today is like a redemption song — a song of freedom. And at the very least there is nothing worse (or better) than that fateful day twenty-three years ago. Today I woke up and I am… here… and for that I am most grateful.

May you all have as much to be thankful for.

My name is Eddie and I am in recovery from civilization…