American Samizdat

Sunday, December 31, 2006. *
Everyone has been on my ass about Global Orgasm Day, this December 22nd.

"Harrumph," I say - and no, that's not the sound of my climactic approach. Before I even clicked on the G.O. link and listened to the new age strums of the global orgasm guitar, I was already turned off.

How could I be such a curmudgeon? After all, I do want to "stop the war," and any moment dedicated to orgiastic pleasure and whirled peas can hardly be criticized.

It comes down to this: If I had a shred of evidence that my orgasm would force an immediate American withdrawal from Iraq, I'd be beating off furiously now.

The thing is, I'm more of a monkey-wrench masturbator. I'm one of those people who believe you have to throw your body on the cogs of the machine:

"There's a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can't take part, you can't even passively take part, and you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you've got to make it stop! And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it, that unless you're free, the machine will be prevented from working at all!"

Listening to Mario Savio's speech still gets me more choked up than any arguments from the global-O organizers.

I'm an atheist; that may be the culprit. When the power of prayer, even lustful, is called upon - to "change the energy fields - " I get a little tense. I want to do something that has a chance of working, that goes beyond a media stunt. But rather than be a complete Scrooge about it - because I do appreciate the intent, after all— I always hope the prayer/orgasm marathon will at least be public, and defiant.

I could so get into the Global Jill-Off if it was combined with a work stoppage. I'd like it, if on December 22nd, everyone called into the office and said, "I'm not coming in today - I'm wanking for peace instead." Booyah!

I seek something that disturbs, something a little rude. Even if you didn't want to go to jail, get fired - or, in the most common scenario, have everyone stare at you - there are still other risks one could take that chip away at the cement block of the military industrial complex. Like...
posted by Trevor Blake at 9:40 AM
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