…But I Love James Bond
“The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche
When I saw this quote, my loins immediately tightened up, you know…in the best way. I felt that deep, sexual call to “arms” that has become such a part of my relationship with myself and with women. I love that feeling. I love the thoughts I create around that feeling. I’ve loved the actions I’ve taken (when they’ve been successful) as a result of those thoughts that come from that feeling. I love James Bond!
And I think that might be part of the problem. Part of my problem. Maybe part of the bigger “problem” of this man/woman thing. I love James Bond and I think I might not be alone.
I can feel it in the deepest parts of my sexual being that objectification is what I want. It’s what my sex wants and because I’ve felt this way for so long, it’s become what I want. I’ve made it good and I think that’s a problem and I’m not sure exactly how to address it, so I’m bringing it up.
James Bond, the ultimate male. Dominating and taking what he wants and killing what’s in opposition to him and looking great doing it. Just those two choices, dominate or kill.
But here’s the thing guys…I think we’re ok. If you look at what we know of human history in relation to the very personal effect that we and the ones we love are alive today, it’s possible to see how domination and killing is not just a part of our psyche but how 1,000 years ago (or whenever) it came to be and was necessary. And for the female minded reading this, please, don’t condemn the man who recognizes and accepts history. I can just hear someone thinking “oh my god, it’s been 5,000 years of male domination and killing, Times Up!”.
What’s important to me is to flesh out this contradiction in myself, so deeply rooted and deeply supported by both sexes, that it’s remained partially and intentionally buried. I’ve just been pin-balling around in this crazy culture of ours, whirling my head, neon flashing, beautiful breasts, pizza and beer, success, achievement, righteousness, love, killing…oh my god, so much to choose from. So distracted and so in love with my distraction.
So the point of this post, as always, is that it’s a point. It’s a point for me that I have this vision of the “True Man” inside me and that it’s based, partly, mostly, on Nietzsche’s quote and Jame’s Bond’s persona. And that this vision, this driver inside me doesn’t serve who I want to be. It doesn’t serve the father in me, it doesn’t serve the partner or the friend, and most of all it doesn’t serve the warrior in me.
Someone said something so interesting and pertinent the other day, I will never forget it. They said “what…what do you think? We should be good at this? We should be good at communicating, good at working together, good at being friends with each other?”. He said this in the context of describing and talking about male and female relationships and was referencing that for all intents and purposes we are infants on the spectrum of human development and communication when you look at how long humans have inhabited the planet VS how long we’ve actually had language VS how long we’ve decided to intermingle VS how long we’ve begun to discuss human rights. It’s kind of funny that we think we know how people should behave or think we have the answer or that there even is an answer to be had.
For me it’s a process, and mostly a process of elimination and discovery, of taking things away, of sweeping away the dust, of excavating the artifacts that lie beneath my feet to study them and discover what is garbage and what is gold. There is nothing for me in the noise of today’s cultural neon product, other than a strong example of what I don’t want the world to be like.
James Bond can be buried, let the sands of time cover him and allow him to be built upon, to something greater, more powerful, caring and compassionate. Let’s allow James Bond to be the foundation for the 21st century man because he is. No shame. And no desire to return from whence we came.
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