Posted on September 18, 2005 at 00:31:16.
Human beings are the trashbags...
By M Satai
Human beings are the trashbags of an alien species
M Satai
Let us be done with these already cast-down bodies: sweating, leaking, wheezing, farting, barking, oozing, filled with someone else’s toxic refuse. Let us be done with this 150lb bag of rotten flesh, hair, and bitter toenails. This body I fondle, or which fondles me, it’s like sticking my hand into wet biodegradable garbage. When I pull my fingers out: what is this stinking slime?
It is not just a metaphor to say that we are all dying. There is something diseased about the naked human body. Take a close look: you can’t help but regard it and imagine a more beautiful animal suffering the effects of a highly toxic form of chemotherapy. We are ashamed of our nakedness, when we come to recognize it as such, and rightly so. Perhaps earth was originally the analog of an alien cancer ward, or hospice, for the terminal patients of an advanced species. Mortality, it might be said, is just an alien medical euphemism for “terminal.” No one here, of course, is getting any better.
No more bald monkey sex, or, for that matter, hospital sex. Earth is an offworld hospice planet, or landfill, for another world’s trash, for the “human” species. Perhaps the term “human” means “trash” in some alien tongue.
Instead of procreation--a failed attempt, at best, to achieve the immortality denied us as a result of incurable disease—let us have cool, nonstop aerodynamic sex fantasy that travels at the speed of light. If you were to picture sex fantasies as prophylactic surgical instruments, you’d have a clue. That the “operation” we’re talking about involves a form of death, a method of euthanasia, is to be celebrated as ideal. At the very least, what we are talking about here is a “castration” that is not without its historical and religious antecedents, the dog-priests and transvestite castrati of various mother-cults, for example, as well as the hospital/factories of the Nazi doktors and their “inhuman” experimental subjects, but let’s be clear: we are in absolutely no way attempting to build “a better human being.”
To achieve even a dream of health, (because no true “health” and no cure is possible), to pass through all barriers, to escape, to attain pain-relief—we need a sexual act that is impossible and abstract and completely independent of both self and other. We need to fantasize ourselves beyond this planetary gulag of the sick and dying and this can be done by a radical dissociation of ourselves from those dying in the next bed, especially from those dying in our own bed. We are dissociated from them anyway. We orgasm as we die, alone.
We must innoculate ourselves against all notions of love . Or, perhaps, it is more accurate to say, we must refuse the useless innoculation of all theories of love. That “love,” so called, is a miracle cure is as facile and outmoded an idea as the idea that “god,” so-called, is a cure. Love, after all, is nothing more than the idea of god writ very small.
What we must do, at last, is accept our terminal condition. We must take to our bed as Christ took to the cross. We must cultivate a wicked solitude, but seek the supreme isolation within the wilderness of others. In other words, we live in the refuse heap; we dive right into the trash to heighten our disgust, which is our ecstasy. I spread your labia, or finger open your roseate asshole. We are all the same unnameable garbage inside.
Looking deeply into the trash bag of the other, I nauseate myself. Stench, too, is communion. I’m never more distant than when I can’t be any closer; I’m impentrable only when I penetrate. I’m never more disgusted with myself than when I’m indistinguishable from you. Are open fields upon which the countless dead lie, heaped and anonymous, rotting under a pitiless sun any different, when regarded from a certain distance, from an alien distance, than the same naked bodies engaged in orgy? Is what they produce ultimately of any significant difference?
Fertilizerhas many wombs, many mouths, many assholes.