All true porn enthusiasts will know that this depraved scene is the infamous "money shot" with which a great many short pieces of adult cinema are triumpantly concluded. The practice of terminating a sexual encounter with a "face blast" has puzzled many observers.
a) Does it signify some twisted Freudian proof of masculine potency?
b) Are men really this eager to see a woman degraded (losing face)?
These interpretations are so common as to be nearly disproved by that very fact. They are far from clever and decidedly unkind in their appraisal.
c) Is the Money Shot just a peripheral effect of digital-electric technology... based on the idea that in the video universe there is no reality except that which a camera captures?
Let's try to understand more deeply by considering the layout of the phantasmic scene --
The delightful Heather Brooke, vivacious and focused, is on her knees before her husband Jim. Zealously, she works the primeval hydraulics of his swollen cock. Her face is bright and expectant. The eyes and mouth both gape open in a semblance of pure appetition. Tongue extended in space and time... reaching for the immanent eruption of electrified bio-material. Poised in delight.
A grunt.
The the mouth is the ostensible target of the splatter pattern but inevitably only a tiny amount of jizz arrives in that warm cavern of flesh.
There is an undeniable mediumistic component -- since video demands to SEE rather than merely assume. Grunting & imagination do not suffice. And doubtless there is also a terrific pleasure in playful degredation. Those old power cables of sexual fantasy run along the border between Obscenity and Sensuality. An intoxicating edge with the power to erotically transfigure disgust & embarassment into epiphanies of spiritual adoration. Theories about the reification of misogny do not better at grasping this phenomenon than does the inert notion that the Money Shot "proves that women only want men for their seed." These half-baked ideologies have tended to examine the Money Shot in isolation.
If we open ourselves to the historical context of pornography we quickly discover that face-blasting did not arise all on its own. It has emerged during the digital-electric age of this genre and it has come along with -- saliva. The obvious usage of spittle as sexual lubrication or even as provocative communication has risen to prominence in tandem with the Money Shot. Men and Women now freely exchange gobs of saliva into each other's faces, onto sexual organs and into ever conceivable orifice. Likewise the "golden shower" (in which people urinate on each other) has become widely known. Although these practices have always existed, their explicit presence in the mainstream of erotic technologies does not go back many decades.
Our new question is "Why do people now take such pleasure in the chaotic splatter of biological fluids?"
The idea that a person "loses face" during the Money Shot gives us a clue -- ooze is rising to prominence over and against the socio-visual form of the personality. Both the reception and transmission of varieties of love-goo require us to temporarily suspend our normal social boundaries. We are not merely inconvenienced by fluids but also humiliated by them. Wine is spilled on a shirt. Urine stains the crotch of our trousers. Slime gets on our fingers. Children are scolded for sitting down in puddles. In the degree to which these harmless events are perceived subliminally as injuries we maintain a defensive shield against them.
In the act of exchanging biological fluids we violate these defenses, affirming a new biological stance over and against the preservation of our inherited social roles. Pleasure takes three forms -- the joy of violation, the relinquishing of stress through deactivation of resistances and the simple tactile joys of slime on skin.
Sexual spitting and "harcore face-blasting" take the side of the Nietzchean Dionysius against Apollo. Primal liquid reality is affirmed contrary to the carefully defined forms of the visual-conceptual world. It is a Blakean proclamation of innocent sensory experience rebelling against the bonds established in ordinary, daily wariness of other bodies.
The electric era is biological, ambient, post-linear... an archaic revival of satyrs and nymphs whose totaly bodily experience defines the decadent habits of pre-electronic civlization. The visual distinction between two human bodies is blurred in a starburst of mucus strands running from mouth to cock to face to asshole. This polymorphous perversity is an emergent characteristic of the virtual environments of cyberspace which empower bodies over boundaries -- for good and ill -- and join us in streaming mutual ooze.
Why not? We can always clean up afterwards...
PS -
Heather and Friends is not a new cartoon series for young children. Not yet, anyway. This short adult film shows Heather orchestrating a four-woman fellatio for her husband Jim.
Four women! Let's not hysterical. The fact that this represents a variation of male fantasy to which female bodies conform themselves is yet a neutral fact. Let us see how this was done in order to learn what was actually going on.
In fact, the Viewer cannot help but observe this as more religious than pornographic. It was the rhythms of pagan fertility rites:
High Priestess Heather has selected three other women of a similiar age, with similiar hair, with similar makeup who will engage in the same activity simultaneously. Thus it is structurally arranged to promote the experience of blurring identity. The normal form of Heather become diversified, spread through bodies of the other priestesses.
The rules of the ritual are (a) adore the cock as if delicious (b) obey the high priestess.
We see Heather watching and instructing, encouraging -- moving the ritual object around the circle and quietly urging the performers into the correct Dionysian spirit. Except for the very end, it is only Heather who looks up at Jim/Camera. Thus she is symbolically set apart as the high priestess which is not only ceremonially savvy but represents the emotional bond of the couple being placed above the indulgences of the activity. The very layout of the event privileges Heather and is a curiously touching nod toward the sanctity of domestic life.
Looking down, god-like, over Jim's arcanely tattooed belly, we observe the Sanctified Woman rising beyond her mere body by dissolving it in others. She both teaches them the Way that she embodies & lifts above them into her eternally special relation with the God, the Man, the Flesh and the Witnessing Mind.
other blogs:
cultural-aquarium.blogspot.com
planetarycathedral.blogspot.com
buffstriding.blogspot.com
iconasosastacles.gaia.com/blog
jamesbay.org/index.php/secretworlds
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