I am having an affair.

It is already a incredibly passionate affair. We speak every night. We long to hear each other’s voice in the morning. We lose sleep over the littlest comments that keep us awake all night wondering what the future will hold or merely what more tonight could be holding in each other’s thoughts. The time between talk is excruciating.

I am having an affair with a fantasy not quite come true. My eyes have been blindfolded and I cannot see even beyond my own nose. My hands are bound and cannot reach out to touch, to explore, or even to grok a fuller understanding of where I am.

And it’s tying me up in knots.

One of the single most frustrating things to me is the inability to be actually fulfilled in a relationship. The general expectations I hold for a relationship are enormously simple. But I am a passion addict. What I want out of life is deeper than merely a spasm and a wet spot in the middle of the sheets. And so very few people can rise above their shallow human natures to understand this without incredible wordy explanations that cannot and never will be able to explain fully what this means in rational, concrete terms.

But some people are really just okay with the spasm and mistake it for passion, commitment, and even love.

I’ve been guilty of the same thing, once upon a time.

One of the things that I’ve bemoaned is that I’ve lived a full live from one extreme to the other. Much of the novelty of fantasy is worn off for me. On top of a personality that finds repetition to be boring and sleep inducing—and an aversion to drunk people coming on to me (unless I’m drunk too and that’s a very rare event indeed!)—most things that other people get into I yawn: been there, done that, thanks for the memories, let’s move on shall we…

That said, though, most of my fantasies are purely cerebral in nature. The vicarious nature of most of them is enough inhibition not to act them out in reality anyway. Not for anything weird or illegal, but merely because to share any of them with someone takes an act of trust that I haven’t found in anyone in over a decade. I do not trust that my partner(s) will be as understanding, supportive, encouraging, willing, and conducive of/to/for/with/etc my fantasies as I have with theirs. Because I lack the emotional security to express myself, I just don’t. That alone causes enough problems before even embarking on the topic of healthy physical relationships. For me, fantasies are not the acting out of kinks. I’m sure there is an element therein, but it’s not the actual content or act of the kink that makes the fantasy. Fantasy is about trust.

And I just don’t trust anyone with my fantasies because I don’t trust anyone, anymore, with my inner nature. Every time I do try to trust someone, they go out and take my thoughts and feelings to someone else and share them there rather than back with me. I probably won’t trust anyone ever again either for the simple reason that the repetitive nature of these betrayals has seared from me any desire to give over trust to anyone. What’s the point when they are just going to run off again and take those thoughts, feelings, fantasies, and desires to someone else and ignore the source of them in the first place? What kind of relationship would that be anyway?

It’s not that I don’t have more fantasies. I just don’t trust that they are either interesting or important enough to anyone outside my own head to share anymore. I’m just not willing to watch (or not) my fantasies played out through other people as they have been for over a decade.

Knots. Knots are about trust as well. It’s one thing to talk about one’s knots in public, on a blog, or with a therapist. It’s another to actually trust someone with your knots. But this may be why most of the problems I see in relationships all over the place deal with knots. Some are so willing to trust their bodies to someone else, even strangers, but they are not willing to trust their knots to anyone at all.

Oh. Look. It’s Hump Day already! The week is half over and I’ve accomplished so very little already this week.

I spent most of last night (and it continues off and on this morning in waves) in a massive panic attack even when the Xanex wasn’t helping. It was self-inflicted in some ways when I came to a sudden realization of a particular fact. It was very difficult to handle and I panicked instead of rationally thinking it through. As is becoming a standard response (that I’m not quite used to and still makes me quite agitated—to be polite about it), the one person that I really wanted to talk to abandoned me yet again. There is this level of frustration that I have with all this. I know. I know. I’m the one “doing it to myself.” But when you have someone that would rather sit on the fencepost and call it foreplay rather than actually go one way or the other over the fence, what happens is a conflicted and mixed bag of signals that is produced. If one was to read one set of emails, one would think that this whole process could have our family back together—though still in therapy, I can assure you—within the next 8-12 months[1]. Other emails would have one believe that this whole thing is merely a “favor” and there are no goals in place that are mutually agreed upon. I just don’t see the point of any of this if the latter is the “truth” of the matter here.

For the record: I’m tired of this shit and want my family back. The stupid people games that are being foisted on me here are so unnecessary, destructive, immature and juvenile, and way beyond any reasonable human patience[2]. If it wasn’t for my deep feelings that aren’t going away just because I needed some rope in my life, this wouldn’t even be an issue.

So my panic attack went on until about 3:45am. I paced my living room, tried to sit at my computer and read or write or stare at naughty pictures. Nothing was even interesting in the least. I was literally listening to a fist fight going on in my head over whether or not I was just a basic idiot in love or a major idiot who wasn’t taking the most obvious clues and actually doing something about it that would make me feel better by destroying about four or five different people’s lives[3].

In the end, the basic idiot voice won and I’m right back where I started. (A) I love her. (B) I’m still mad as hell over some behaviors and actions and attitudes. (C) I want to work this out, first, for her and me, and, second, for our family including Jinx and Lori (and Ian too in the really big picture). (D) I’m probably just being massively used here and strung along for little more than her cruel thrills that I just don’t understand. (E) I love her and that’s really all that matters to me in the end.

School

I guess I’ll get this back out in the open now, but I had intended on dropping out of school just a couple weeks back. I never got around to it, so I’m pleased to say that my grades are not horrible, I’m passing all my classes, and I seem to have fucked up over the weekend and turned in nearly all of this week’s homework over the weekend thinking that it was last week’s homework. Given that I’d already one last week’s homework, I thought it was just the stuff that I’d been too busy to finish and I turned it all in at the last minute. So this week is quite light and open (though I am doing some of next week’s homework this week now). But even so, I’m massively distracted and finding it difficult to focus. Before when this happened, I had someone there that could take me away for a bit, distract me (milkshakes, book buying, whatever), and then set me back on my course with a renewed focus. That’s gone. And that person just has absolutely no clue how much they brought to my life and yet can claim such lies about what our relationship was not when there were so many things that it was on a daily basis that we both took for granted.

Money

Money is going to be quite tight over the next two weeks. Since I have picked up all of our former two-paycheck debts and bills with my single paycheck, I’ve found that I am budgeting things quite well, thankyouveryfuckingmuch. However, given that my paycheck is not forgiving when I have to take time off—like last Friday to take Jinx to the doctor—then it is going to hurt. Also given that my rent was due on Saturday and even though I made arrangements (or so I thought) because of our special circumstances, I got the “late notice” today and my late fees are going to inhibit me from paying several bills that just cannot wait. I’m not quite sure what I’m going to do yet with those. But it would also appear that we may be out our weekly food provisions on certain things because there just won’t be the money there for it.

Now, that said: I don’t know this for sure. I’m still feeling a bit panicky in the head (and quite tired) this morning, so it might just be my paranoia kicking in. I’ll have to just wait and see. I had already adjusted my paycheck to cover everything I could think of. Since the “loan” that I’m now paying “alone” (hahaha! I love alliterations!) is reducing in leaps and bounds now, hopefully that will be gone soon and that money will go back toward the family rather than company parties, gambling trips, and coffee time with family.

But, in any case, I can’t even get the out of date registration on my car done and if I get a ticket then it’ll cost me five times the amount it would if I could just get it done. But with everything that I was dumped with and not a single ounce of responsibility being taken for anything (without being prompted, that is, and I’m not a babysitter—or conscience—for a grown adult), I don’t have any extra money. I don’t even have money in sight for Christmas for Jinx[4]. And, I’m sure, that if she does actually come up with a counselor (which it looks like that is going to be yet another promise she doesn’t keep) that I’ll be expected to cough up something for it while she makes an enormous amount of money more than I do and has less bills going out now (and is a female so her “others” can pay for her to “go to company parties” or whatever they’re calling it now) and has absolutely no responsibility to anyone at all.

Bitterness

I’m having a bitter day, ya think? I even hate my job today. But not because my job sucks, but just because I can. (Isn’t that the stupidest excuse ever heard for anything?) I think this is just one of those days where I hate everything about life itself. And I can probably just blame that on lack of sleep, abandonment yet again by my “best friend,” lack of food, too much coffee, and a general apathy that continues to settle in making life very difficult to get excited about right now. I am capable of setting very realistic and reasonable goals, but I can’t get someone else—who they require in order to function—to actually get her tongue to work in my direction. Seems to work just fine for anyone else but me and that’s very frustrating to me. None of this is difficult or hard or out of the bounds of reasonable. It’s just, apparently, “complicated” by her lack of desire to tell the truth to anyone else or put an end to her activities to focus on what is important. Rather than work toward peace and harmony and resolution, she just keeps working to intentionally make me even more angry about this whole mess. I don’t really understand that logic. It’s not rocket science. It’s a conversation about tea that keeps being responded to with comments about milk. Totally infuriating.

But alas, it is Anti-Hump Day for me. This week has built up steam to today, and it’s all downhill from here. Right? I have enough tension and stress to kill anyone else in my shoes[5]. But I have no place, no one, no thing at all through which to facilitate release of that tension. I have more homework. And quite frankly the only thing I really want to do is lay in bed with someone, have the knots rubbed out of my back (maybe probably even reciprocate), and cuddle over several good movies with delivered Chinese food. And should anything more come of it, fine. If not, fine. Whatever. But that won’t happen either. I guess I just have standards at the moment that I’ve always had and I’m disappointed to see how low some people go when they have dumped me in their shitpile all because their favorite ball-gag or a piece of rope was more important than commitment and love. Bitter. Yes. And the continued antagonism of my standards and goals and commitment is making it worse rather than pushing me away. The tension levels[6] really are about to break me.

So much for Hump Day. I can’t even get my leg humped by a dog.

innervox

1. And that’s being very, very overly generous since most reasonable couple’s therapy takes 6 months or less to get a couple back on the same page. But we both do have leases in different apartment complexes—which should have been a clue, I guess, that she was never serious about anything she said to me. But I’m the idiot in love, remember? [↩]
2. There’s already circumstantial (i.e., implied, loose, unconfirmed, etc, etc) evidence that she’s already, literally, moved on to a new (previous?) relationship that is taking priority and won’t let her actually work out her family because … well … she’s already moved on to someone else. But there’s nothing firm and I’m too focused on her and me working things out that I just don’t care about them. That hellstorm is coming with or without our reconciliation and I feel no pity for them. [↩]
3. And, no, for the record, she is not one of those people—I am, above all things, a man of my word: aside the fact that I have already proclaimed publicly and will continue to proclaim publicly this irrational but sincere and foolhardy love for this woman beyond all reasonable expectations in return. [↩]
4. Though I think we may be going out of town for that holiday anyway so it may be a moot issue if so. [↩]
5. And as things are going so far mentally and emotionally, I’ll probably not be long here anyway but no-one will care and the only person I want to notice just won’t anyway. It’s such a helpless, lonely, and totally dehumanizing feeling like this. [↩]
6. …and the huge emotional ADHD/bipolar swings brought on by what appears to be intentional attempts to push me from one extreme to the other just to watch me bounce off walls. [↩]

Who in their right mind hands out candy called “Big Blow” to children?

Or, more to the point, where can I get mine? Any volunteers?

Sooner or later you have to talk about it. I mean, it’s not a real blog unless you make some comment about sex, your sex life, your lack of one. But I don’t actually have one. I mean, not really.

What I have discovered—after nearly 14 years with in the vicinity of the same person, various adventures in polyamory, a couple quick ducks behind a gender identity or three, and a general taste for just about anything that’s been done that didn’t involve shit, animals, children, or near death experiences—is that the only way to truly I can get laid (this late in the age game) is either to grovel into disgusting roles in which I would rather suck a rat’s dick before performing or to be downright perverted. Notice that there is no mention of gender here. It doesn’t matter. Either gender is just as revolting in this regard. And just because there are some in my immediate sphere of influence who are okay with groveling and submitting to acts of degradation before strangers is no reason that I have to either partake of such a lifestyle or find it anything but utterly disgusting that any human being would want (much less actually seek out opportunity) to be treated less than human. I can only think of the self-esteem issues involved in someone who would ask to be treated in such a manner.

It is often said that there is a fine line between pleasure and pain. I will certainly agree with that. But what most don’t actually understand is that there is a similarity precisely because they are two sides of the same coin that is to be pocketed rather than played. Once you have mastered one or both, there is no reason to grovel before either ever again. Does this mean that one will never feel pleasure or experience pain? Of course not. But the control they have over human nature is broken and lays wasted on those who are truly masters of themselves.

Once that border is reached, then, and only then, is true passion found between two individuals of equal measure, equal strength, and equal spirit.

I’ve never found that apparently. Every time I think I have, it turns out to be an intentional lie to bamboozle me for reasons I don’t grok. I’ll never understand. And I guess, in the end, I’ll never trust anyone enough to figure it out.

Part One

I can not fathom living in a civilization or time period where teaching a man how to drink and eat is a crowning achievement.

I’m not sure that this story illustrates anything of a crowning achievement insofar as the civilization or culture is concerned. The Sumerians were highly advanced on many fronts from technology to religion to language to medicine. I think what we are seeing in this story is an illustration of certain culture codes rather than any actual achievement of civilization itself.

I understand he was only half-man, but in modern times you would need to know more than how to drink wine and eat bread to sit at the head table.

However, for highly ritualized societies, eating bread and drinking wine are symbols almost more than they are a source of sustenance. This ritual practice continues today in many places including most Christian establishments.

I also can not understand a period of time where a woman’s advances could literally change the fabric of a man’s being. I’m not so naïve to believe a woman’s sexual advances have never influenced a man’s way of life, but I am bewildered by just how much of an effect the harlot had on Enkidu.

I think a lot of importance is being placed on the act itself rather than the meaning of the act. The text comes back to say, “And now the wild creatures had all fled away; Enkidu was grown weak, for wisdom was in him, and the thoughts of a man were in his heart” (14-15; emphasis mine). Compare this to the myth of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden: God said, “Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil” (Gen 3.22 KJV; emphasis mine). It has a direct relation to the harlot’s words to Enkidu when she says, “You are wise . . . and now you have become like a god” (15; emphasis mine).

All of this is after Adam and Eve have eaten the fruit and their “eyes . . . were opened, and they knew that they were naked” (Gen 3.7 KJV). But this tree wasn’t any normal tree. It was “a tree to be desired to make one wise” (Gen 3.6 KJV; emphasis mine). Wisdom was the result of the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Wisdom was the result of Enkidu’s eyes being opened and no more an animal (therefore shunned by the animals of the field) just as the eyes of Adam and Eve were opened and they were no longer a set of animals in the garden (therefore shunned, or cast out, from the garden). This wisdom did more than merely cultivate some kind of civilized behavior but symbolized a transition from animal to man or from man to god depending on which layer of meaning is more important to one’s point.

So I think this isn’t so much a case of how much effect the harlot had on Enkidu, specifically speaking, as much as it is the enactment of this transition from ignorance to understanding or wisdom. For this, the motif of wisdom and/or knowledge coming from a woman and passed down to a man is very common through religious literature.

The non-goddess women of the day were a notch below the average 11-year-old boy on the food-chain-of-societal importance; so it is perplexing how not only a woman, but a harlot can be so influential in even a HALF-man’s life.

I’m not sure this is accurate. In many places throughout Mesopotamia, while certainly not equal to men, women could—to name a couple of things—buy and sell good, attend to matters of contacts and law, run a business of their own, be given administrative authority in some areas, read and write, and gain a divorce. Some of the early city-states even had goddesses as their primary patrons showing the primacy of the feminine over at least religious life if not daily practical life.

The harlot issue has been discussed elsewhere on the discussion board, but this isn’t a case of merely a common prostitute having an unusual influence over a man, but a specific induction into manhood or some kind of cultural norm. This is not uncommon for such societies or their times. The temple of Ishtar was highly influential in those days and the priestesses of any class were held in higher respect by both genders. The harlot raised Enkidu up into society from the primitive and uncivilized state in which he lived. In that one act, she showed her superiority to him on several levels. However, once her role had been performed and her teaching accomplished, she resumed her place as a normal woman to a normal man—again, not uncommon for that time period—and “followed behind” Enkidu as he entered Uruk (16).

It’s a very different worldview that I don’t think translates very well into the norms that we accept today and most especially those we accept within the confines of U.S. culture.

Responding to MJ Rose

Part Two

I found myself researching the meaning of the word “harlot” back in those days which led me to a more specific term which was “temple priestess”.

Absolutely. There are, however, three specific classes of “harlots” in the temple: ishtaritu were the priestesses dedicated specifically to Ishtar; qadishtu were the sacred prostitutes that were usually well-born, educated, and land-owning and generally were what we mostly think of when we see “temple prostitute” or “harlot” in the texts; harimtu were the semi-secular prostitutes that worked in the taverns but also “filled in” when the temple demand became too great for the qadishtu. Technically speaking, the harlot of Gilgamesh—whose name was Shamhat—was of the harimtu class of harlots. While certainly working for the temple of Ishtar, and according to the text taken from the temple itself, she was of the lower class of part-time temple priestesses which is most likely the reason why she was able to travel to Enkidu.

Interestingly enough, the qadishtu would morph into the word qadish (Heb. “to set apart”) and is related directly to the word qadosh (Heb. “holy” and “sacred”). In many Christian Bibles, however, the word is translated as “sodomite” and has very specific connotations with temple prostitutes of the male persuasion. There is some loose connections between this concept and the homosexual undertones between Gilgamesh and Enkidu. Having been brought through the rites of passage by the priestess, Enkidu would have been privileged with information of a specific nature whether spiritual or sexual.

I’m curious to know what would lead her to do so, as Temple Priestesses of the time were considered worthy of respect and honor, rather than some “whorelike” entity to be used in denigrating way.

If we examine the incident from the perspective of either a specific initiatory process or a rite of passage, i.e., of puberty, the participation of the harlot would be far from any kind of act of prostitution or any indication that these men were treating her as an object of anything less than a sacred connection to the divine. (The connection between sacred whoredom and common prostitution is unfortunate, to be sure.)

This seems rather amazing to me… as though saying that men are beasts or animals and have no control over themselves and no desire to have control…. and that it’s only by the taming/civilizing effects of women, that they can be allowed into the general public [...]

I would suggest that this is a very astute observation, but I also think there is quite a bit of truth to it that is ignored in our present time. In our age of women’s liberation and the blurring of gender roles, for everything that is gained in such liberties and freedoms, there is a loss that occurs when we overlook the masculine that is brute force guided into a sense of productive adventure by the feminine that is the voice of wisdom and intelligence. This has less to do with biological identity as it does with gender
identificati

on, but nonetheless holds true in those societies where the stratification of biology is less important than the more flexible perspective on gender.

Responding to Susan Claussen

The process of civilization begins with the transition from the natural to the custom. Enkidu starts out running with the animals, his own countenance as a wild animal. The description of Enkidu is quite straightforward: the trapper says to his father, “[Enkidu] ranges over the hills with wild beasts and eats grass” (14). Enkidu is the original wolf boy of Hesse, claimed by humans but captured through the “woman’s art” (ibid) to be turned into a man. Of interesting note, the trapper already knows that Enkidu is immortal or divine. The transition from animal to man is not one of merely the physical civilization of a wild human, but of bringing forth an understanding of this inherent divine nature of Enkidu. This could be a whole topic in itself which time and space prohibit here.

The harlot is brought from the temple of Ishtar. The cult of Ishtar was one of a sexual nature. Briefly, women were expected to provide services to men and there is some indication that much of the rites of puberty for both genders were a subject of the temple’s purpose. In some ways, this civilization process of Enkidu could be seen as the transition from child (the wild animal) to the adult (the civilized man). But also there are hints here of a similarity of transition from ignorance into wisdom. Much like the myth of the garden of Eden with Eve and the serpent, the harlot tells Enkidu after their six days and seven nights of sexual initiation that he had become more than a man saying, “You are wise, Enkidu, and now you have become like a god” (15). Compared with the serpent and its dialogue with Eve: “Ye shall not surely die: For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof [of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil], then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3.4-5 KJV).

This initiatory process, brought on by the loss of sexual innocence and bringing the wild boy into the realms of civilized man, is extremely important to the story as a whole. It is likely that Gilgamesh went through a similar process that merely is not recorded in this tale. It is not that different from our own times, however we wish to sugarcoat it, when we understand that many of our transitions from children to adults is a matter of the loss of sexual innocence more than any other indicator. Such transitions held more power and respect in the past than they do now, but our lack of understanding and respect for these transitions does not make them any less powerful in our psyche.

There are physical indicators of this transition for Enkidu. The harlot first clothes him and leads him to the shepherds. The phrase used is that she “led him like a child” (16). In any transition, the newness of perspective with which that event brings can be approached with a new and different kind of innocence. Poetically speaking, this is “like a child.” Next Enkidu is taught how to eat like a civilized man. He was no more a wild animal obtaining his meals from the earth. They put bread and wine before him, both of these specific signs of the initiatory process in several different cultures. Salt is missing from the story for this point to be even more salient, but wine and oil are both shown here as part of the civilizing process. The wine he drank—this is what adults or, in this case, men do—and then he “anointed himself with oil” (ibid). He also grooms himself, it is noted. As a child, or a wild man, he had no reason to groom himself, but the point is made clearly and almost out of place that Enkidu, once he was all fixed up by the harlot, “appeared like a bridegroom” (ibid). Enkidu is now showing his true colors as a man. He has been through the process of initiation that takes him from an uncultured and uncivilized, yet innocent, child and moves him into the beginning of adulthood. However, what we see through all of these various rituals is that Enkidu is provided with the customs of civilized society. With more time and more space, again, this topic alone could fill a book.

Unfortunately, much of the richness of the early rites of transition for either gender have been lost to antiquity. Also, at least for the United States in a cultural sense, due to a lack of understanding of the importance of these transitions more brutal and pathological forms take their place, e.g., gangs in major urban centers (Cf. the shepherds teaching Enkidu to eat and be a man), teachers sleeping with students (Cf. the harlot of Ishtar initiating Enkidu from child to man through the “woman’s art”). While much could be said about Enkidu’s transition being one of trickery and self-preservation on the part of the trapper, there is an underlying theme that could be compared (or contrasted even) to parents working toward the freedom and maturity of their children. And, much like the curse and eventual blessing of Enkidu toward the harlot, our children will curse us for waking them up to the world outside only to realize that we may have given them to most precious gift of all: wisdom of experience.

(Assignment for WorldLit: Discussion Board 1. Note: This is merely over “Parts 1-3″ in the text.)

Gilgamesh is filled with interaction between the two main characters, Gilgamesh and Enkidu, and various women. There are two specific instances which are of interest in this story: Enkidu with the harlot beginning in Part 1 and concluding in Part 3 of the text and Gilgamesh and Ishtar at the beginning of Part 3. In the former, there is a theme of initiation and innocence lost. In the latter, the theme of jealousy and rage play a large role. Both stories are interesting in their portrayal of women in relation to men.

At the beginning of Part 1, Enkidu is awakened to his manhood by the “woman’s art” (14). The whole story of Enkidu and the harlot contains several references that could be directly connected to the creation story of the Christian Bible. Enkidu, for instance, lays with the harlot for “six days and seven nights” (ibid). But, more importantly to the story here is the connection of the creation story with that of the generative process that was a popular motif of the times. During the encounter with the harlot, there is a clear indication of an initiatory process that imparts wisdom to Enkidu. Not only does the wildness of Enkidu become tame as the animal nature is elevated to a new, more human, consciousness, but he is further imparted with a wisdom that makes him like unto a god. The harlot says to him, “‘You are wise, Enkidu, and now you have become like a god’” (15). Very much like the serpent in the garden of Eden with Eve, there is a statement of human sexuality opening up the door between that which is merely animal or unsophisticated in man and that which is god-like. It is a reproductive or generative myth that places the ability to make another in one’s own likeness on the same level as the creative process of a god.

However, examining the details of this initiation, we can see that Enkidu is transformed by this act through the feminine and becomes something more than merely human. The story has already established the near god-like qualities of Gilgamesh in Prologue of the text going so far as to say “two thirds they made him a god and one third man” (13). But here we see that Enkidu is elevated to the same stature as Gilgamesh through this initiation by the harlot.

It is interesting to note that the harlot came from the temple of Ishtar. The temple prostitutes, while certainly an unfortunate choice of words in our own times, were highly revered and sacred in their own right. They held a particular status among the ordinary people of the times. To the common man, these harlots or priestesses of Ishtar played a role as Ishtar. It was not something to be taken lightly or mocked in any way. This role of the harlot in the story of Enkidu is important because it shows that he was not brought out of his wild animal state merely through a sexual encounter, but through the specific and dedicated efforts of Ishtar’s servants or—one might suggest by proxy—of Ishtar herself.

So while Enkidu was transformed from a base creature to human to a god, there was a certain responsibility imparted to him in that transformation. Part of that responsibility was to tame Gilgamesh. There are some sexual overtones to the story between Gilgamesh and Enkidu that provide hints of possible homosexual connection between the two men with the passive role given to Enkidu (15-16). [It could also be said this is merely one reading of this particular translation.] There is certainly a similarity between the friendship of these men and the later description of David and Jonathon in 1 Samuel 18:1. Regardless of this possibility, Enkidu is supposed to be an equal to Gilgamesh and this passive, companion mode of Enkidu could be seen as a direct result of the transformation and elevation of the man by the initiatory process of Ishtar’s sexual cult through the woman of the harlot.

Stealing a line from Spiderman: with great power comes great responsibility. This wisdom and humanity that is given to Enkidu was welcomed at first. But at the end of his life, Enkidu curses the harlot for giving him his humanity. He had to be reminded by a god that the woman had given him life, wisdom, and opportunity. In his understanding that life has both the pleasure and the pain, he recants his curse and blesses the woman (27).

After all is said and done, Enkidu seems to provide a certain amount of balance to the story. He understands that wisdom is both a blessing and a curse, that it requires a great deal more than merely running around catering to the lowest animal nature, and that his transformation was due to the balancing nature of the feminine.

Gilgamesh, on the other hand, seems to provide us with a caricature of power gone mad. We see from the first part of the story that Gilgamesh is a man in whom his passions have gone wild. In contrast to Enkidu who was a wild man on the outside, tamed by a woman’s art to the royalty on the inside, and initiated into the wisdom of the gods, Gilgamesh is royalty on the outside and wild on the inside. He still has a certain wisdom that could be compared to “street smarts” because he knows that he can build better walls and temples, all signs of the outward nature of Gilgamesh. But internally, Gilgamesh is full of turmoil and dreams.

It is interesting to examine Gilgamesh in this light. His dreams are interpreted for him, first, by his mother and then later by Enkidu. But these wild passions inside Gilgamesh cause trouble even among the gods (13). Until the creation of Enkidu, the only manner in which Gilgamesh viewed men was as second best or next in line to his own lusts and desires. In fact they are nameless in the story, not even worth enough to hold any kind of identity to Gilgamesh.

Gilgamesh never really learns the lesson either. In the end, it is his scorn of Ishtar that directly results in the death of Enkidu. In Part 3, we see a conversation between Ishtar and Gilgamesh. Ishtar sees the accomplishments of Gilgamesh and wants to shower him with all kinds of gifts. What she does not offer him, ironically enough, is a sense of adventure and manhood that is shared between Gilgamesh and Enkidu all through episode of the Forest Journey.

Gilgamesh rebukes Ishtar by insulting her very nature. When she complains to the gods that she has been insulted, the gods agree with Gilgamesh’s assessment of her, they also agree that she has been insulted in tone if not in manner. They provide her with the Bull of Heaven to avenge her honor (25). Up to this point, Gilgamesh has had the nameless women of his conquests and his mother. Now he is dealing with a woman—even if a goddess—on her own terms.

The story starts out with Ishtar’s very abundant offerings. And then the inevitable happens: “Gilgamesh opened his mouth” (24). The downfall of every man in dealing with a woman is that he inevitably opens his mouth and begins to speak when it would be much more effective just to keep quiet. From here things just go downhill quickly. The second step in any good argument of a relationship is that next inevitable event characterized in this story with, “Ishtar opened her mouth” (25). And the fight was on. The end result of this brawl is that Gilgamesh and Enkidu slaughter the Bull of Heaven and someone has to pay. Being the good friend that he is, Enkidu takes the fall and leaves Gilgamesh all torn up about it.

Throughout the text, both men come into their own through women in some form. Enkidu becomes a man, no more an animal, through the “woman’s art” of the harlot. Through Ishtar, directly or indirectly, Gilgamesh both gains and loses an equal. There is no doubt in reading this story that change was inevitable to both of these men. The lessons learned and the journeys taken were facilitated, hampered, and even destroyed through their interactions with the feminine.

(Assignment for WorldLit: Journal 2. Note: This is merely over “Parts 1-3″ in the text.)

So Jenn comes in after being out with Jinx “trick’r'treatin” and comes up to me with a silly little grin on her face.

“So, if there is more life in a single drop of semen than in a single drop of blood, why doesn’t Dracula suck dick instead?”

I just have nothing to say after that.

G’Night All! Happy Halloweenie! I mean, ugg … nevermind.