EC 503

Upon Whom the Ends

of the Ages Have Come…

^{a fantasy for an apocalypse}

© Ludis Cuckold (2015)

12 Talk of the Town

One day, after weeding her garden, Daisy joined a “women only” get-together. These were occasions inherited from Soviet days when women let their hair down, share in a ‘cider’, or other drink, and discuss whatever is on their minds and they wish to bring into the open.

These get-togethers usually happen in late afternoons or early evenings at someone’s apartment. When Daisy went to such meeting, she met a young woman whose name was Samantha. As they talked, Daisy discovered Samantha to her liking, and after listening to her story, which was that she worked as a prostitute in the Latvijan capital city of Riga, Daisy concluded that she could entrust Samantha with her own story. The reason Samantha had come to the meeting was because her boyfriend* was of the community, and she had a son by him. Their child attended the local kindergarten.

*Though the story in the Western media for the most part tells of pimps raping some unfortunate girl they find alone at a bus station, say, in London or Paris, and then exploit her as their slave by pimping her to all and sundry, the reverse of the coin is that many whores keep boyfriends who are stay-at-homes and take care of their happenstance children.

Unfortunately, Daisy had misjudged Samantha. The secrets of her life were soon heard about the community.  Everyone knew how Stefan stroked Daisy. Having forgotten the role star studded mittens had played as conduits for the tradition of petting, which once had been accepted as normal and kept many unwanted children from being born to a life they could not possibly want, Daisy was instantly turned into a slut. It did not matter that her mother had been a witness to the occasion and had done or said nothing* to stop it.

*I am not suggesting that Daisy’s mother had any memory of the tradition of petting in place of penetrative sex by means of sexual organs. In defense of lost traditions and events, however, there is good evidence that Latvijans were turned into Lutherans rather than Herrnhuters in spite of the fact that it was the latter who turned them into a self-conscious Commons. The betragal of the Herrhuter effort was due to the repressive measures of the Lutheran clergy, which was pimping on behalf of secular authorities. This continues to be true due to the near total absence of interest and knowledge the Latvian nation shows with regard to its origins. The disinterest is especially noteworthy among Latvians who have become members of the so-called intelligentsia. The latter hardly ever mention the role that violence, repression, and social stigma has played in turning out uninformed teachers and timid scholars. One recent example is an article in the Russian internet outlet known as Russian Times (RT), which featured a story about a southern Siberian city beginning to produce cannebis chocolate bars. It is a mystery (rhetorically speaking) why such chocolate bars were not first produced by a Latvian candy company. After all, the Latvian peasantry had long produced a product known as ‘cannebis butter’, a black oily paste, much like peanut butter, made of ground cannabis seeds.* Wouldn’t you know—the company is no longer owned by Latvians, but by Danes, a clique of Scandinavians known for their repressive Lutheran inspired catholic morals, their violence advocating NATO commander, and along with Swedes for their champagne socialist-fascist ideology.

*The story of the role of cannabis as a medicinal plant in Latvija goes unknown, because there is no material that has been solicited or collected about its uses, among which one would discover use to cure sick domestic animals. I only heard of this practice when in the U.S., when a Latvia woman, who was familiar with the practices of the Latvian farmers, told me of her mother letting sick calves into the cannabis patch, which—we are now insistently told—was grown solely to produce rope fiber. Another story tells of hens laying more eggs when let forage among the stalks of cannabis for seeds. Needless to say, one wonders about the role cannabis butter played in keeping Latvians proper healthy.

One story led to another, embellishments occurred, and soon everyone knew that Daisy was not shy to twerk boys even if she shared the bed with her girlfriends. In short, to be in bed with Daisy was an invitation, what with clusterpetting on Midsummer Eve Love Fests* long forgotten, for boys to join in a teenage clusterfuck.

*While (pending further research) it is not a foregone conclusion, it is possible that ‘Midsummer Johns Fests’, likely originating with the Latvian Cathars in the Jersika kingdom, were turned into love fests by the Herrnhuters, who wished to put an end to sexual cannibalism become common practice after the Great Northern War the Swedes had pressed upon Russia.

Perhaps there is a relationship between the thingification Daisy had suffered at the hands of her stepfather and Samantha’s humiliation at the cock’s end of who knows how many men. Given that petting, once upon a time encouraged for religious reasons*, was becoming a forgotten tradition, one may conclude that Daisy and Samantha had been thingified by strangers (not to mention anti-sexual moral codes), and were traumatized, and—having survived the experience—were titillated and over-sexualized by it. As survivors of this dehumanization process both young women felt, perhaps not surprisingly, somehow empowered, because the force of habit brought them some sort of control over the situation.

*Petting for religious reasons—the Western materialist view sees the sole purpose of sexual pleasure as nature’s way of encouraging human beings to mate in order to procreate. It is hard to find an anthropologist or archeologist who is not a believer in the ‘fertility cult’ as the only cause of ancient celebrations. However, another, now long forgotten function of sexual pleasure was percieved as a God given instrument that reminds that ours is not the only mansion in the universe. In effect, a sexual orgasm is the electricity that transmits a human soul or essence from this body to the next. We still see this perspective in ancient Egyptian mythology that deals with sex, as well as Islam that promises its warriors pleasure in the next world.

The community listened to the story told about Daisy with wide open ears, and let saliva curdling gossip pass from one mouth to another until there was hardly anyone who had not heard it.

Though the reconstitution of an allegedly ‘free’ Latvia brought with it a New Age of consumer oriented (secularized) freedoms, this ‘’freedom’ remained politically correct. As such, it continued to repress the history and religious function of the Johns Festival by means of intimidation that helped the elites to maintain a reputation of uprightness, even as it maintained and kept them in power. Whether past trauma was that of a family member having been betrayed, arrested, and possibly shot by a fanaticism obsessed communist government, or raped by love-starved soldiers of many an army transiting the land, or closing one’s eyes to incestuous relationships, all was hid and buried by an ‘official’ Church in a catacomb decorated in the colors of blood, shit, and bees’ wax projecting scenes of sorrow. The destroyed Commons had learned to repress the truth about the practices of its demoralized environment as a soldier returned from the front and sick to the stomach keeps mum about life in the front lines. It knew how to run “ring around the rosy” (and not tell what the boy and girl in the middle must do to please the government).

As an expat* Latvian, as I heard some describe me, I listened to the locals explanation of Daisy’s guilt with some skepticism. Because in my teen years in America (early 1950s), ‘petting’ or ‘necking’ was a common practice, it was a practice that I was familiar with, had taken part in, and remain titillated by its unexplored possibilities, not to mention curiosity about its origins.

*Expat—an expatriate; one who has returned or transferred him-herself back to the home country from having once, for whatever reason, expatriated abroad. The return of the expat is a variation of the story about the ‘lost son’ the Latvian theatre and literary culture refuses to recognize.

Petting is amorous sexual contact and involves mutual sexual stimulation among young males and females of their sexual organs without putting same in direct contact with those of one’s partner. Because the practice originates with teens coming to sexual maturity, which is often accompanied by an intense interest in God and ‘religion’, petting ought not be interpreted as the dawn of sexual irresponsibility. However, during the second half of the 20^th century, petting became for ‘sissies’. Generally speaking, the sissies were youths still under the influence their parents, who were under the influence of traditions of another era. Petting lost its savor, because ‘liberated’ cannibalistic young men, led by rock musicians, who were crossbreeds of many influences, disseminated within and beyond the cacophonies that are modern cities, their need to assert and consume themselves by ‘going all the way’ (as the grownup secularists were doing). The steel guitar became a symbol for a male erection, while screaming boys and girls in the audience gave themselves to the exhibitionism by squealing for ever higher or intimate ejaculations of sound.

Another reason for replacing petting for sexual cannibalism as everyone’s norm was the domestication of war hysteria that followed WW2. With the conflict between communism and capitalism resulting in soldiers becoming a permanent presence in society, with up-dated weapons in a never ending parade on television screens, and the atom bomb threatening the extinction of humankind at any time, government and its military became a nest (a rome) of violence in everyone’s consciousness.

The presence of the military guaranteed that whoring (an exercise by which a male member stirs a whore’s vagina until ‘he’ ‘comes’, i.e., has an orgasm) became a ‘permanent’ source of income for poor women who wanted to be more than adjunct trolls in either a capitalist or a communist run factory. What had once been whorehouses in apartments and shacks in the countryside, which spread like pimples throughout society, became mega hotels and mega businesses for millionaires.

To take a mega perspective of sexual canibalism, the rapes by Vikings, which replaced the petting mittens knit by Baltic and Slavic women, reached its apex when millions of soldiers cannibalized millions of whores for flesh that became known as ‘cunt’.

A personal experience in the moral decay of community, abandonment of traditional values, and my own experience of it was offered when as a young Marine during the Korean War, I was on so-called R&R (Rest and Recuperation) in Kioto, the old capital of Japan. Along with a friend, I went to a hotel (brought there by a taxi driver) with a reputation for providing prostitutes to service men, and—myself still a virgin—from a line-up of about ten girls chose one of the youngest. The girl introduced herself as Maya.

‘Our girls’ turned us into tourists and became our guides. During the day, they took my friend and myself through Kioto and its Temple district. One of the more memorable visits was to the temple for aborted children, where Japanese women (prostitutes not excluded) displayed dolls, which represented the children they had lost due to abortion.

On about our third night together, I was surprised to hear Maya ask me if I would marry her. I was both surprised and shocked. An image of Maya’s loose vagina flashed through my mind. It made me wonder whether her vagina was loose, because of the many penises it had engaged or a recent abortion or miscarriage.

My answer was, like it or not, a cruel “no”.

It became immediately apparent that the answer was not welcome. Maya blurted out: “You are a stuck up!” and began to cry.

Suddenly realizing that Maya’s proposal, as well as her occupation, were acts of desperation, I too cried. Maya, as if understanding that she had awakened me to reality, then embraced me, and I embraced her. We both cried until sex brought us the relief it does so well.

Five years after she was first violated* by Stefan, Daisy gave birth to her first child. When her mother came to see her at the hospital, she greeted Daisy (so tells Daisy) by calling her a “whore”. Daisy told her that she was proud to be a mother and planned to have more children (I do not know whether she meant that the children would be fathered by Stefan or by the seed of some other Stud**).

*Unfortunately, the petting episode initiated by Stefan, described in the previous chapter, soon led to more than that.

**My opinion about what she meant was that she would give birth to more children to spite her mother, who she claimed had treated her most of her life as if she did not matter.

The community had no difficulty in concluding who the father of Daisy’s child was. Still, the community said nothing, and nothing was done. Everyone was near certain that in the course of time, the trauma (the thing) would be forgotten and papered over.