>the map of this trip is written in my smile lines
>it was raining niagara falls this morning in københavn, so as i strolled into the city centre wearing my oh-so-retarded vinyl poncho, i sang, ” mr sun, mr golden sun, shine your light on me…” a little ditty we were taught in kindergarten to sing during rainstorms.
by the time i reached the city centre, the waterfall had stopped and the clouds turned white. blue skies, peekaboo sun.
i finished another velveeta bus tour (am i getting predictable guys? what’s my next move? the map of this trip is written in my smile lines).
visited a City Museum that just so happened to be free on fridays. man do these people love their Hans Christian Anderson and their Søren Kirkegaard. you would think no one talented has since emerged from these streets. they disseminated even intimiate details about these boys – down to the fact that Anderson died a virgin. they talked about his raging sexual urges, the women and men he fell in love with, and even his guilt after masturbating.
i never want to read The Little Mermaid again.
grabbed an egg-and-tomato sandwich for 20 kroner. i’m assuming that’s like a dollar. still trying to navigate the fricken kroners, can’t they just use euros? today i withdrew 300 kroner, and which may or may not be 75 bucks.
then it was onto the Museum Erotica, which had an amazing section on the roles, significance, importance, and sanctity or ancient goddesses and high priestesses of mesopotamia, persia, india, and europe.
it spoke about how females were regarded with the utmost respect and were regarded as next to the divine. we bleed without pain. our womb carries life. our menstrual blood is healing and earth-fructifying. virginity was seen as something to lose in a sacred ritual, and was not a woman’s greatest dowry. high priestesses entered the temple and didn’t leave until they’d made love, either with a man or a hand-held phallus.
sex was considered the essence of humanity, a ritual that was both public, private, and heralded.
this was 10,000-3,000 BCE, and they were fricken smarter than we are now with our microchips and stephen harpers.
there was also something there about ritual castrations, the thinking being that men would become women and could bear children. such fascinating stuff (turns out ‘fascinate’ comes from the latin ‘fascinum,’ which means penis.)
i had no idea billie holiday, the greatest love crooner of all, had such a hard life — rape, prostitution, drugs, abuse. her voice in ‘the very thought of you‘ doesn’t even convey a hint of her pain.
like all sex museums i’ve visited, people tried to pretend they weren’t aroused by all the cunts and assholes surrounding them, but you know they were. they kept moving quickly past the porno-TVs, the dildo-exhibits, the explicit daguerrotypes.
their eyes gave them away.
as did mine.
last year i was in beirut, lebanon. visiting the place my ancestors called home.
now that beautiful, friendly, and historically-rich city has been plunged back into war.
even their international airport, the very airport i flew in and out of, and met many people, has now had the shit bombed out of it.
i want people to think, really think, about their prejudices, and to relate them back to their home. to the place to rest their feet. to a place to call theirs.
i am thinking of all the friends i met in beirut, and i hope they will one day soon be able to dance in the streets of hamra as they did with me.
i hope for their safety, above all else.
k’teer hairak, my friends. see you soon.