Thursday, June 14, 2007

Aunty Christ loves all god's creatures, just not in that way

Lots of craziness going on outside my apartment this morning. Kitty-corner to my yellow apartment building, a man standing outside of a different yellow apartment building is pounding strips of wood, set on top of a plastic garbage can, with a hammer, while a woman closely examines other strips of wood on the grass next to him. Two identically dressed people, both potato-shaped (russet potatoes, mind you—lumpy and oblong), wearing oversized T-shirts, stretch pants, and oversized fanny packs, gape at the house for sale down the street from me, through its eight-foot-high chain-link fence. One is clearly a man, as he has lost most of his hair, leaving only a white fringe around his ears and neck. His companion (a foot shorter, gray buzz cut) is of indeterminate gender, and stops gaping at the house for sale long enough to give Goofus and Gallant a good stare. Goofus looks likely to confuse the couple’s jerky, arrhythmic steps with the movement of a far more interesting animal: a bear, perhaps, or a cow. He strains at the leash, and I fear he will bark, causing me to say what I always say in these moments: “That’s a person, buddy.” Ha ha! As if there could be any doubt in anyone’s tiny mind!

The house for sale is still being worked on daily by contractors. Clearly the owner is hoping an infusion of earnest money will allow him to finish this project, which has gone on for at least the seven months I’ve lived here. The house has been gutted, and it’s still on stilts from when the foundation was repaired, and the exterior has been stripped but not yet repainted. The owner is crazy to try to sell it now, but he is—trying to sell it, that is—and his contractor is crazy. He arrives as the couple lurches away from the house, trying to keep his barking pit bull in his white rapist’s van, yelling nonsense phrases—“That’s a happening forestry kit in the party room!” or “Good to forget the Saturday pants that other time!” I’ve never seen him completely lose control of the barking pit bull, but I’ve considered that a crazy guy is perhaps not the best person to be in charge of a potentially dangerous animal. But what would I do? Call animal control? Call crazy guy control?

I resent the thug dawgs their bodily functions, which wake me before 8 every morning and drag me out of the house at inconvenient times. But one of the true joys of dog ownership, for me, has been the requisite walk down the street multiple times a day. Most of my favorite memories, in fact, come out of things I was forced to do.

Not that walking down the street this morning was a really great memory or nothing, but you know what I mean.

Hey, speaking of great things to do with your pets, you know what else is a great thing to do with your pets? Have sex with them. For purposes of the ongoing Untimely Movie Review portion of this blog, I should mention that I saw Zoo several weeks ago, and it was pretty jaw-droppingly beautiful and equally jaw-droppingly, um, odd. I’ve been interested in bestiality for a while now, by which I most certainly do not mean that I’ve been interested in pursuing it as a lifestyle of my own, thank you, but I find it weird and kind of crazy and kind of funny. Several years ago, when I was invited to write a play for the local theatre, I made one of the main characters a hotel detective who falls for a woman who keeps talking about how she was crowned Jerry Falwell Little Lamb of God 1983—that is, when she’s not dropping hints about how she likes having sex with horses, using biblical quotes to support this activity. When my computer crashed a few years later, I lost the script, which is quite a loss for future directors hoping to stage a festival of badly attempted imitations of Joe Orton’s works.

I think that was all inspired by this site, which may or may not be for realsies, but sure is complete and detailed. And furries—I think that was around the time I first heard about furries. Which isn’t the same as bestiality, I know, but frankly I’m not sure which is more disturbing—being sexually attracted to animals, or being turned on by putting on a big fuzzy outfit and boning some other dork who is turned on by putting on a big fuzzy outfit and boning some dork.

Hey—I think I dated that orange thing!

The weirdest thing about Zoo is the elephant in the room that no one wants to talk about (but everyone wants to have sex with! Hell-o! Am I right?), which is that, as cute and adorable as animals can be, and as much as people are prone to interpret an animal’s actions as based in human emotion (“The way that horse looks at me, I just know he understands me”), and as much as other people suck sometimes, and are boring and silly and hurtful, if you’re having sex with a horse, that still means that you like having horse penis (Have you seen one? Those things are enormous!) thrust repeatedly inside you by an animal that weighs, probably, six times as much as you. But no. The zoos interviewed in the movie kept to the party line, repeating that it was all about loving the animal and respecting the animal and the animal doesn’t want to talk about Britney Spears’ marriage or Lindsey Lohan’s hoohah, it just wants to love you.

And as amusing as all that is, and as much as I, too, hate people, I must say that there’s a line that Aunty Christ has drawn when it comes to her sexual partners, and on the side of the line against which she refuses to rub her pink, swollen genital region (oh, go read the dolphin link, above) live not only animals, but most of humankind as well. So it’s nothing against you animals! Sorry. Go have sex elsewhere, please, animals!

The zoos also supported their behavior by saying that the horses wouldn’t become aroused and have sex with the humans if they didn’t want to have sex with the humans. This is no doubt true, but perhaps because the horses didn’t have the opportunity to have sex with other horses, and perhaps because the horses were attempting to establish dominance, and almost certainly because things, in general, like having sex with other things.

Why that is, however, remains uncertain to Aunty. Further research may be required.


David Rochester said...

"Equus" just didn't go far enough.

Aunty Christ said...

As someone who's enjoyed the fine Harry Potter films, I must say the most recent London production went a bit too far. But yes, as compared with the Mr. Hand video, it was a bit (ahem) lacking in certain elements.

Casual Observer said...

*** Content Warning ***
References to equine genitalia follow

Having cleaned the sheath of more than one gelding in my lifetime (read at your own risk if you’re curious), I can tell you that horses will often achieve a state of arousal, even when the purpose of the horse-to-human contact is purely hygienic and not necessarily pleasant for either party.

I do believe horses and other animals can develop “bonds” with their caretakers, but to go as far as saying horses “want” to have sex with humans is a stretch. You are much closer to the truth with your “things like having sex with other things” statement which I would boil down further into some animals are particularly receptive to physical contact with humans. Everyone has seen a dog or cat roll on its back begging for a good tummy rub, and you can put some horses into a near hypnotized state with a vigorous grooming, but I doubt the idea of getting lucky ever enters their mind.

It would be much more honest for the zoos to admit to themselves that fetishes are a uniquely human trait and that they are using the animals for the sake of their own sexual gratification. That’s not a judgment or a criticism, just a fact. If the animal tolerates the activity and doesn’t kick, bite, or otherwise try to escape, then it’s certainly possible they took some pleasure from it, but to say they wanted sex sounds more like rationalizing on the part of the humans, not some mystical communing with the beasts of the field.

Personally, I think it’s a convenient excuse for a cheap date. A bale of high quality hay and juicy carrot are a lot cheaper than a four course meal and a decent bottle of wine and you don’t have to dress up all fancy like at the barn.

Aunty Christ said...

Well, yes, erm, I suppose I overstated when I said there was "no doubt" the horses wanted to have sex with the humans. What I meant was, the way it's portrayed in the movie, it seems like the horses aren't forced or trained to mount the humans, they just go ahead and do it. Maybe that's accurately depicted, and maybe it isn't, but I'll agree with you that, whatever the reasoning, it's almost certainly not because the horse has a "human fetish" analogous to the humans' zoophilia.

I like the cheap date explanation! Hey, Rich Bachelor is out tonight ... "A bowl of venison, a bowl of water, and thou, my sweet Gallant. Whaddya say?"

Casual Observer said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Casual Observer said...

What I meant was, the way it's portrayed in the movie, it seems like the horses aren't forced or trained to mount the humans, they just go ahead and do it.

Ha-ha. Don’t worry, that’s actually what I thought you meant, and it doesn’t surprise me that a horse who has had sex with a human would willingly participate in a repeat performance. If you’ve ever seen a horse twitch like a crack addict at the prospect of getting a juicy apple once he knows how good they taste, you know the power of a conditioned response. I imagine similar forces are at work here.

That said, I would bet that the initial encounter with an animal is much more unpredictable and therefore much riskier to the human, but who am I to say the zoos shouldn’t do it? People have been riding horses for eons; maybe a little turnabout is fair play.

P.S. Alas, I have embarrassed myself with poor reading retention skills and amateur fact checking. Anyone know where I can hire a good editor?

Aunty Christ said...

That said, I would bet that the initial encounter with an animal is much more unpredictable and therefore much riskier to the human...

Frankly, I'm surprised anyone who has sex with a horse gets away with an intact colon.

As for your reading and fact-checking skills--looks fine to me. Then again, I'm a big dummy.