Listening to Details of The War by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
Do you wanna know what one of the greatest benefits to being an actor is?
Sucking. Just totally bombing. Going into a room and absolutely embarrassing the shit out of yourself. Taking all you got, parading it in front of people, and having them humiliate you. It’s because it’s ART. And there is such a confluence of factors informing every aspect of the endeavor. What you ate that morning, if you look like a casting directors high school sweetheart, the size of your nose. A million little things. Of course, these things can inform other employment opportunities, but not nearly to the extent that they do in acting.
I had to tell a room full of New Jersey college students yesterday what it was like to be a “working” actor. HA! Imagine that. I got to call myself a working actor. I’m not lying, but it still feels like a sham. I wish I could have flashed them forward 8 hours from my class and shown them bartending for a room full of unhappy douchebags. And told them what I have to do for my “Art.” they could have given a fuck. I think that we forget, after leaving school, that we allow ourselves to specialized every aspect of our lives. Our career, our friends, our apartments, our interactions. Especially in New York City. We have to create such an insular world as a defense against the things that could threaten to tear us down. So we surrounded ourselves with like-minded people with like-minded interests. I am not accusing anyone of small-mindedness. It’s just the way it is. Back in school everything is so general that it gets as boring as shit. Like Western Civ sophomore year in High School. I had to learn how minstrels spread the vernacular and what the Tennis Court Pact was about or some shit. What the fuck is that? How did I not commit suicide. Girls I guess. Fuck, I was a horny little dude.
Oh, before I forget, I just want to add that my friend Chastity told me that bartending isn’t a job. Well, it’s better than nothing, eh Chastity?
I mean I was a really horny little dude. I had a camp counselor call me Hormone Boy for a while. He would yell it out like a super-hero title “Hooooooorrrrmoooooone Booooooy.” I always got a kick out of that. There were just years and years of inexplicable boners. They arose at every occasion. I don’t think that women experience this like we do. Maybe in their early thirties, but definitely as acutely and as powerfully as we do from 13 to 18. God. It was bad. Not bad bad. But bad good. You know?
So what happens as we get older? Do we just sort of lose interest? Do all of our libidos slowly flag to the point of weakness? Is all pussy the same? Well........yes.
I mean - I gotta be honest. Now before we go getting out of control, let me qualify that statement. The sex act can be elevated by many different things. Like, for instance, new pussy. I suppose I should stop using that word, huh. Okay “P.” We’ll call it “P.” So this ability to elevate “P” to new levels is multi-formed. There are the lovers, fetishists, perverts, there are people that hold out, there are the solipsists (masturbators), the multi-partner incapable of love folks (I think we all know a couple of those).
What I am interested in discussing are the lovers and the people incapable of experiencing loves. I got this friend, let’s call her “M.” No - it’s not you Maggie. She has had sex with a lot of people. A lot. She had sex with me. I put it that way b/c I definitely was not in control of the situation. Well....not entirely true. You see, I knew that “M” wanted to get it on and as a single man I am more than willing to be accommodating. Here’s the deal -when it time to do the deed, this larger than life, blustery, loud, boisterous lioness turned into this quiet little kitten. I found this remarkably sweet and endearing. “M” had gone from Mastodon to Mouse. And no - that wasn’t a commentary on her weight. She had a perfectly nice body. Since that time she has continually bedded many different men on multiple occasions and I have gone to get tested for STDs. I’m clean, thanks for asking. Maybe the fact that she is, in reality, this delicate person searching for comfort is directly tied to the fact that she has a machine gun approach to sex. She is unable to show vulnerability in real life so she has to seduce men to allow herself to expose her true self. She has an inability to remain faithful as well. Did I mention that? It should be noted that we never dated. I knew very well what it was I was getting into (pun intended) and was wary of any long-term commitment. We have spoken of it since. “M” says “I am a cheater. I say “You never cheated on me.” She says “You weren’t around long enough.”

So now let’s jump to the other side. The person willing to be absolutely vulnerable over and over again. Well call this guy....er....person “B” for arguments sake. Let’s say that “B” realizes that it takes him approximately twice as long to get over somebody as it did for the period of their dating. We’ll say that he is continually willing to be open and vulnerable in real life - offer emotions, support, strength, love, but when it comes to the sack itself can be something of a technician. Not to say that he isn’t emotionally involved, but that he sees the experience as the means by which he could make the other person happy. Not necessarily being greedy enough to take what he needs at that moment. Do you see what I am saying? “M” pents all that shit up for so long that when she becomes intimate it is a very hungry consuming experience. When “B” gets into a sex situation he wants to make sure the other person feels good enough that he doesn’t always think of himself. There should be a balance, right? In it’s purest form, the ideal, the Karma Sutravesty of it all, a relationship should be a symbiotic relationship. I’ve only had that happen a couple of times and “B” says the same about his experiences. But that is what makes love love. If we fell in love everyday what would be the point.
I think that we have to make an examination of who we are and what we allow ourselves to show other people and then ask ourselves if we are ready to unburden ourselves. Who we are when we are around that person is the person we want to be. We should love someone that shows us what it means to love ourselves. Because, let’s face it, all of us deal with a fair amount of self-loathing. And if you don’t then You’re Warren Beatty or some shit. Don’t think that doubt disappears with success. If anything it just becomes more acute. A partner should remind us why we are capable of being loved.
That being said, I wish “B” the best on his soul journey. Should he find that special partner that elicits a connection beyond his technical ability to inspire orgasm in his partners then he would have truly found someone worth hanging onto.
As for myself, I think I am going to turn over a new leaf. I think I might have to embark on a short journey of misogyny. I don’t hate women outright. But i have recently developed a strange dislike for their behavior. I treasure my female friends but as for the clumsy dance of courtship, I am not a big fan of women’s ways. Maybe this whole depth-seeking approach has yielded no fruit b/c I’ve allowed myself to become the thing that men and women disdain equally : a whiny little bitch.
So, from that perspective I think it may be important to simply emptily objectify women in as 1-dimensional a way as possible. Use them for sex. Wake up in the morning and go home. Maybe Chastity was right. Maybe it isn’t worth the hurt.