Friday, July 30, 2010

Feminine Propaganda -2-

A woman is an experiment in propaganda. A testament to the powers of the status quo and the outreach of the established authorities. A woman is a walking fashion statement, cluttered with dress codes and made complicated by man's distrust of his brother man. On the curves of her body a man had written his revolutionary manifestos, under the glare of another man's disapproval. A woman's body had always been the subject of contention, of competing agendas and scrambling lobbies. A never ending conflict between those who want to liberate and those who intend to perpetuate. Perhaps it's no coincidence that man's brutality in war and crisis is always inflected upon women. From the revolting crimes of mass rape to the hum of factories where silent women worked for minimal wage. The soldier and the slave driver had both conspired to promulgate their homicidal rage. The soft underbelly of society had always seemed, to them, like the righteous recipient of their depraved plans. Psychopathic goons, yet untouchable with their absurd theology and sinister politics.

A woman is an experiment in propaganda. A salacious, contagious and outrageous propaganda. The kind of rhetoric that makes you wish for a career in poetry. Poetry of love and massive agony. Of stalled dreams and premature visual fantasies. What is an alphabet without the conniving power of feminine vowels and letters aggrieved by unfulfilled desires? What is a language worth without the documented cries of passions and the registered sighs of orgasm? What a colorless, tasteless literature it is that doesn't speak of silent longing and secret affairs? What a culture it is that doesn't justify your urges, but seeks to criminalize your schemes and taint your person with guilt instead? How can a civilization be modeled away from the charms of its women and the subsequent awe of man? How can an economy survive without guaranteeing the affordability of sensual dreams and the equal distribution of tangible pleasures?

A woman is an experiment in propaganda. A coded and barely fathomable propaganda. Marked by the volatility of promise and the scarcity of clear discourse. Distinguished by the tentativeness of its slogans and the ostensible foolishness of its subscribers. A propaganda that provides vitality to your creative faculties, only to turn around and question the sanity of your motives. A propaganda that is wary of attention and welcoming of indifference. A puzzle that culminates in a tangle of bed sheets and the scandalous groans of gratification. A mission deemed impossible until the night of ceremonial inauguration, of validated aspirations and proven adequateness.

A woman is an experiment in propaganda. A body of tried and tested respite from prosaic concerns. A lovely reminder of the futility of idleness. Of the significance of release and the neatness of biology. Of people's endeavor to create and procreate. Of a world in constant need to get laid.

P.S. This is a sequel to Feminine Propaganda -1-


Fattymaa said...

One word shall say it all


soreal said...

a sequel to Feminine Propaganda -1- , or a re-consideration?
i think its the later....
and this time, i agree.

Dave said...

Nicely said...