TWO LOVES OF THE SUFI POET ʿIRĀQĪ

jedson   13 June 2019

Fascinating entry. I love the cobbler’s story. The Sultan was not concerned about Iraqi’s attraction to the boy—probably saw this as natural. But apparently he does not want Iraqi to consummate the relationship. This very much reminds me of Socrates insistence that beholding a beautiful boy is a path to heaven but consummation impedes spiritual progress. Curious. The relationship between sexual attraction and spiritual progress remains somewhat enigmatic to me.

A SURVEY OF EIGHTEEN NEW YORK BOY PROSTITUTES, 1968

Mr. Smith   Wednesday, 10 April 2019

To say the little boys who most fear sodomy are the ones who really deep down want sodomy is the most irresponsible dangerous statement I have ever read or heard on this subject. How the fuck can he know that, and this man an academic, shame on him. I have no doubt in my mind, as this book really got around, that because an academic report said this, some men would have taken this as a green light to administer to some lovely lad, physical pain and total humiliation the like of which even his cautious fears could never imagine.

PEDERASTY IN ANCIENT CRETE

Daemonic Rise   Saturday, 25 November 2017

Aristotle said:

The legislator...endeavoured, that his community might not be too populous, to lessen the connection with women, by introducing the love of boys.

I always find it hard to keep a straight face when I read this. I imagine the scene, a sombre gathering of the elders of Crete:

Elder 1: We're not a big island, gentlemen, we simply must find a way to limit our population.
Elder 2: Well, how about we start having sex with boys instead of women?

After a lengthy pause:

Elder 1: Would it help, do you think?
Elder 2: Well it couldn't hurt.

But there's another article on this fine site that shows this curious aspect of pederasty playing out in an individual adult male: An American Initiated in War-Time Naples. George C., a man with no prior discernible attraction to boys, finds himself in a situation where he gives it a mildly curious go, and before long becomes an ardent boy-lover, finding a range of emotional experiences hitherto invisible. Once pederasty is introduced, to individual or society, like the cane toad into Australia it seems devilishly hard to eradicate.

And an interesting parallel exists today. Over the last six or seven years there's been a sudden surge in the number of young folk (3-18yo) seeking professional transgender advice. The only plausible reason for this is institutional encouragement, although what the social engineering aims are, I wouldn't like to speculate.

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Rod Fleming   Thursday, 04 October 2018

You wrote: “And an interesting parallel exists today. Over the last six or seven years there's been a sudden surge in the number of young folk (3-18yo) seeking professional transgender advice. The only plausible reason for this is institutional encouragement.”

Although there is a kernel of truth here, you are oversimplifying. There are two recognised stimuli for transition, homosexual (early onset gender dysphoria in the DSM-V+ and non-homosexual. These can appear in males and females. In males the latter is caused by autogynephilia, 'a man's arousal at the thought or image of himself as a woman'.

There has certainly been an explosion of referrals to gender clinics. The Portman and Tavistock in the UK reports an increase in annual referrals from 97 in 2010 to over 2500 last year. But most of these are in females and a majority of those are non-homosexual. So some care is needed with these stats. Something is going on, but exactly what is not quite clear.

Amongst the male referrals, however, there are significant numbers with homosexual Gender Dysphoria. In males these are highly feminine, sexually receptive, and only attracted to older, masculine men. Almost exclusively, they transition in adolescence, after years of strong cross-gender behaviour. The use of various hormone treatments effectively stops these individuals from masculinising. They are always homosexual and as they grow up they typically pursue sexual and romantic relationships with older men. (The Bruce Jenner type is the Western non-HS form. They are heterosexual, ie attracted to females.)

In the West especially, though also elsewhere, the only way left for a homosexual boy who wants a man (rather than another gay) as a partner, is to become a woman. The opportunities that Quentin Crisp enjoyed have long since been shut down by the new bluestocking feminist Puritans. These young males absolutely know that if they want a man, they have to become a girl. They also know that by doing so they become immune from attack, because they are transsexual and that is a protected category under modern Identity Politics. If their men friends pursued them as boys, there would be hell to pay; but as pretty girls, they - and their partners - are protected, albeit reluctantly.

At the same time, the HRT and surgery they pursue will preserve their neoteny, their prettiness, long into adulthood. In effect, these individuals - whether by design or not - prolong the beauty they have as adolescent boys to an age where their sexual partners will not be arrested for being with them. Human sexuality has always been much stronger than society, and this might well be another instance of that.

It does seem as if this is something that the bluestocking feminists and their accommodationist gay allies have been blindsided by, although they are now refocusing their attack.

EGYPT IN BOYS FOR SALE

Don Shortall   Saturday, 18 August 2018

Fascinating. As a young Engineer cadet I went through the Suez Canal and and Port Said where the small “bum boats” came alongside the anchored ship. They literally had every kind of electrical radio/record player/cassette player and so on for sale in these small "bum boats".

It was a fascinating experience. The item was passed up the side of the ship by a light rope and after examination on-board, if satisfactory, the cash was wrapped around the same light rope and passed back down to the man on the boat, who always had a young boy, maybe a nephew, to help him.

I’ll always remember those occasions, which I experienced many times.

The expression always used to describe those small wooden crafts was "bum boats" and I sometimes wondered where that expression came from. It was, for me, an unusual way to describe them.

Any thoughts or ideas from anyone, who might help as to where it came from?

Thanks in advance
Don

KANDAHAR JOURNAL; SHH, IT'S AN OPEN SECRET: WARLORDS AND PEDOPHILIA

ANON   Wednesday, 28 February 2018

The acquaintance of one of my friends served in the U.S. forces stationed in Afghanistan a few years ago. The soldier's letters home told of officers admonishing their men to be wary of Afghani boys who'd approach them for relationships, of the accepted tradition of boys vying with each other for relationships with masculine authority figures—from tribal chieftains to Americans in uniform. He reported the astonishment on the faces of his buddies who, merely walking around a city's center or marketplace, would feel a small hand not reaching into his pocket but taking his hand with a beaming smile and wanting to be seen holding hands with a soldier. One of his platoon's gay confidants was outed as the result of a single tryst—because the boy bragged to his friends about "his" soldier's prowess, with the result that when he went out those boys mobbed him, seeking his favors.

HARMODIOS AND ARISTOGEITON (514 BC)

Daemonic Rise   Friday, 29 December 2017

Harmodios and Aristogeiton weren't tyrannicides and could fairly be charged with causing a beneficial tyranny to turn nasty. The later popular will to mythologise them must have been due to reasons other than their historical role.

The true hero of Athenian democracy, worthy of a commemorative statue, is Cleisthenes. He invented and implemented a democratic system that the Greeks desperately needed but couldn't stop fighting long enough to realise they wanted. Harmodios and Aristogeiton gave history nothing more than a reckless dice-throw in a dangerous game of Who's-Up-Who-And-Who's-Paying-The-Rent.

But it was Harmodios and Aristogeiton who were chosen to represent the democratic ideal. This committed man-boy couple represented the freedom and daring, the pedagogic Greek love, and the barely restrained hubris, that was to drive the astonishing creativity of the Classical era. They also linked an urbanised people with the arete of the earlier fiercely martial and pederastic Dorian tribes. The very idea of a free-standing statue was born of archaic Greek idolisation of the boy. Classical Greeks mythologised themselves in a dizzying feedback loop of inspiration and achievement.

Shift this tyrant-slaying scene a few hundred miles east, and Harmodios and Aristogeiton wouldn't even rate a footnote. Instead we'd have today a few clunky Cleisthenic tablets telling us when to vote and how many hairs to split in the process. Amen to the Greeks, I say.

A Review of Teardrops on My Drum by Jack Robinson

Jack   Friday, 22 December 2017

I thought this book was a ripper. The prose style so beautifully expressed the essence of Jackie, the ever-smiling headlong rush of his homoerotically-charged boyhood. One mystery I kept pondering as I read it, though, was why the hell did he call it Teardrops on My Drum? It seemed plain wrong. This plodding, self-indulgent sentiment had no place in Jackie's brisk, upbeat adventures. The answer doesn't come until the very end or, even more concretely, until the beginning of the second installment, Jack and Jamie Go to War.

Jackie's life in Teardrops was a work of self-willed magic. Like a lark ascending, he fled his outcast state, his barren, worthless home, and took flight upon the homoerotic thermals of the masculine world around him. Peter Pan's advice on achieving flight is, "You just think wonderful lovely thoughts, and they lift you up in the air." Jackie, an earthy, real-world scouse, achieves the same effect through smelling nice smells. One of Jackie's earliest memories is of the stink of the middens, "ten foot brick wells for the throwing of muck into." Soon after, his mother, after betraying him by selling his precious books, is cursed as a "Dirty old smelly cow! Fuckin' stinkin' bastard!" Later he explains why he never kisses his mother: "She stinks! I mean she really smells!" Mother, traditionally hearth and home, is here a midden, a pit of refuse to be escaped at any cost. Set alongside this is Jackie's first childhood friend, Tommy Lawless, who is described as a beautiful boy who "always smelled as if he'd just stepped from the bath-tub...how nice and fragrant he smelled." And over the next dozen years, Jack's entire wildly adventurous life becomes a case of following his nose, with obsessively repeated references to the fresh, sweet, sexy fragrance of beautiful boys. When he first meets some American lads, his first impression is, "A smell of masculine deodorants and fresh linen, the clean scent of Americans, fragrant bodies, a new bouquet for the English nose to savour."

Throwing himself into the wide, sexy blue yonder, movement, constant frenetic fly-away movement is Jackie's most basic survival skill. Home would have killed him otherwise, both bodily and spiritually. I think it explains why he so abruptly left Eddie. Not once, but twice. At eleven, Eddie provided Jackie with the adult protection and loving home he'd never had. But at a moment of crisis for the boy, he leaves. After his mother pawns the fine clothes Eddie had given him, he says he felt too ashamed to see Eddie again. It makes no sense. Eddie would have been fully understanding and sympathetic -- and Jackie knew that. He had to leave because at that moment he needed Eddie too much. This was the beating heart of the home that Jackie had necessarily rejected. So he left, built himself up by his own bootstraps, and only then could return and become Eddie's boy. Until the need for movement again whirled him away. On to the boy-barracks where the homoerotic thermals surged into veritable thunderstorms of purple passion.

Then, at the conclusion of Teardrops, the unstoppable lark came a cropper -- right at the very gates of heaven. At fourteen, Jackie's relationship with the sixteen-year-old Chesty was ideal. In the boy-army world, dedicated to athletic and martial excellence, Chesty was both comrade-in-arms and protector and mentor. Sex, love, honour, courage: all were perfectly synchronised in a relationship worthy of the title Greek Love. So when Chesty was suddenly shipped off to a new posting, Jackie plummeted into the muckiestmidden of them all, the midden of the broken heart, with all the emotional squalor that entails.

But this was no place to end the story. This was a dramatic mid-point, not a climax. Ending it here, however, allowed the author to remove the big black emotional blob, to petrify it and place it on the front cover, let it glare out at the public like a riddling sphinx, brooding on its nasty secret but leaving the story proper unsullied.

This is confirmed in the first paragraph of the first chapter of Jack & Jamie. Announcing that he's left the army, fifteen-year-old Jack says that there are "No regrets. No teardrops on my drum. I could cry another day." Brilliant! Jack is an inspiration in his open-hearted ability to love and be loved, so his sure-handed use of emotional suppression, of knowing when to hold 'em -- today a much disparaged tool in a man's arsenal -- is something to be admired. Early in life, Jackie had every right to drown an orchestra in tears, but the music he created in their stead will, I'm sure, give his eternity a much sweeter fragrance.

CATANIA IN SICILY, 1959

Daemonic Rise   Sunday, 03 December 2017

A devastating final quote from Andersson which fortunately makes one important mistake. Turning The Boy into a grey, sterile child-thing is a cultural mummification -- there's no change to the essential, genetically determined boy underlying it. There's no process of natural selection at work here, as there is in the classic moth example cited by Andersson.

The selection process in favour of The Boy was at work long before man could even struggle to put it into words, let alone demonise it. A few more millennia of witchy panic isn't going to alter ancient fundamentals. Today's child-things generally attain reproductive success once they make the bumbling lurch to man-child. The genetic truth, like a Da Vinci Code, is being whispered faithfully down the generations - Davidson's boys are still alive in their Blakean coffins. So cut out the Nietzschean overkill, Karl! Somewhere down the track an Angel will sort this nonsense out.

DID THE GREEKS PEDICATE THEIR LOVED BOYS?

Daemonic Rise   Wednesday, 22 November 2017

It just fails the pub test, this no-pedication argument. It's very hard to imagine these passionate, curious, life-loving Greeks agreeing to hold back from full body-and-soul union -- and then there's the men's wishes to consider! Odysseus was their archetype—to the very ends of the known universe and beyond! No truth un-tested or un-savoured. No, we can safely mark that one down as settled.

The standing of fellatio is intriguing, though. I take it there's no grounds for conjecture on its actual practice? I guess, coming from a strongly masculine warrior culture, man fellating boy might mess with their psyche somewhat, be too much a dereliction of a man's role as protector and mentor. Then again, sex thrives on subverting our daylight personae—could the satyr depictions be a way of expressing that which was but couldn't be publicly acknowledged? I actually hope they did shun the oral arts—the Greeks have no more right than anyone else to be perfect.

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Edmund Marlowe   Wednesday, 22 November 2017

Anything may of course have gone on in private between Greek men and boys, but there is no positive evidence for fellatio. Some must have tried it out, and this must have been generally known, otherwise neither the depictions of satyrs doing it nor the defamatory accusations of men doing it would have made much sense, would they? All I think that can be inferred from the literary and artistic evidence is that fellatio was generally disapproved of, which is not at all true of pedication.

THE ORTON DIARIES

Daemonic Rise   Tuesday, 21 November 2017

And Kenneth rose up against Joe, and slew him, but Joe's hot blood still cries out from a parched ground, like a prick up the bum...

Damn your eyes, Kenneth Halliwell! -- you always were too queer to be trusted.

Any fool can fuck a boy, but if you want proof Joe was no gay Johnny who on occasion o'erflowed the measure, look no further than this diary extract:

"I have fucked the arses off aging queens quite easily, but found a beautiful young boy often too difficult to come, because I loved him too much."

No, not middle-class guilt, but a touch of the Platonic shivers, the Aschenbachian delirium. Only a boy-lover knows that particular soul-slaying score—an aria way above the sensory range of your average lumpen goat-lover.

With most of the swashbuckling pederasts around here, I envy them and want to be them (twice). But with Joe, I make an exception. With Joe, I want to travel back in time and be his boy. What a blast! What a catch for a kid trundling through dreary suburbia like a wax-work wannabe.

Sure, you'd probably never quite snag him, and he'd break your heart, but you'd never forget him, and his incorrigibly boyish smile would brighten your dotage better than any line of dancing daffodils.