Purpose and Rape: Why does Jay Bauman fantasize about being raped
My review of Redlettermedia's review of "Censor" (2021)
Purpose and Rape
Catharsis is the name of the game, because catharsis rather than "wish fulfilment"/actively getting what you want (id-satisfaction, animal desire-satisfaction. literal dopamine, eating, chewing, cumming, etc.) is the moment in which you transcend the id, AND the superego. You transcend pleasure and Judgement. Catharsis, by it’s very nature is coming into connection with, touching the universe of Morality, Objective Good and Evil, Value.
Catharsis isn't about feeling good or bad, it is not about "satisfaction", it is not about getting off and it is not about Cumming. "Rape fantasies" are about powerlessness, and the moment of catharsis is a moment of failure - a failure to defend yourself, a physical failure to prevent the transgression. It’s not so much about the pennors in vaginny - this is a formality. The moment of helplessness, of when you give up, and stop struggling - this is the moment of “pleasure”. This is the moment of catharsis.
Fantasising about *failure* is not about Cumming - it is about catharsis. The fantasy in a rape fantasy is not about being overpowered and dominated - the fantasy is deserving it.
It is about having your feelings of inferiority contextualised in relation to Morality. For this moment to be real - to have this sense of failure at all - this necessitates certain premises. This moment-of-failure, by experiencing it as such, proves the existence of morality. In much the same way as I say the existence of music proves God. It presupposes and necessitates it, and by re-enacting it, as in the case of the “fantasy”, you affirm your belief in it.
That is all to say, rape fantasies are not about being dominated by a big strong fascist, gritting your teeth and being perpetually overcome. it is fantasising about deserving punishment for preestablished sense of guilt, which is not given a healthy room to breathe or outlet, because you don’t have access to a intellectual framework of morality in any aspect of your life, because you live in late modernity, which is nihilistic materialism all the way down. And so the only place left to explore your moral impulse, is in “sexual fantasy”, because it is the only place you feel safe enough to do so. and of course, due to the nature of masturbation, doing so makes it all absurd and unconstructive and indulgent, perpetually self-reinforcing.
The fascist beating you isn’t what turns you on - him being a fascist is arbitrary. In the fantasy-image, he is a leather clad fascist only because something so ridiculous and extreme and otherworldly and cartoonish is required to contain the objet petit-a, the unattainable object of desire. What turns you on is getting what you deserve, and it turns you on because you have fetishized your own nihilism, because a dead world without meaning and purpose Scares You.
So what I’m saying is, please be aware that women crave justice and the mercy of Christ as much as the next guy. Please be considerate of such things. Things are not as the appear. They are in terrible pain and it is your quest, should you choose to accept it, to save them.
The problem of post-modernism and the post modern turn in interpretation is a sleight of hand. It is done by assuming a universality to all judgements from a particular judgement, namely: the inaccessibility of Woman. A Nietzsche classic, “suppose truth is a woman” - this is exactly what was done, and overdone - not just truth, but all things. It is impossible to say something true and accurate "about" women - you can only, at best, by accident, say something honest about your relationship to women.
It is a classic problem in language philosophy; the question “How do I love thee?” (let me count the ways). You count and count, but no one particular expression is satisfactory; it cannot be fully expressed in language. My desire is to express the ultimate particularity, ultimate uniqueness: I love her, because she is the perfectly unique woman that I love. She is perfectly different. But my words themselves, which I attempt to use to express this are already general, already generalisations. “She is beautiful” - if you are in love, this is not enough, to express what you desire. She is always-already more than the terms you wish you express what she is.
That is: You Cannot Express a Specific Using Only General Terms, and furthermore, WOOPS Turns Out That All Language Is General Terms, Fuck. We Are Fucked.
It is the relationship and this kerfuffle that has been universalised and applied to all acts of interpretation in the post-modern turn. A deliberate over-mystification of the non-mystical, in an attempt to turn the world into a woman by force. And the reader with it. The audience, the text and the reader, all turned into Woman.
It's the classic sleight of hand trick: knowledge of woman is inaccessible - ah, so we just turn all other knowledge of all other subjects into the same thing, make all knowledge inaccessible, make all other relationships equal to this relationship, in an effort to - *step closer* to woman, to “know” woman. To circumvent the issue and break the rules. To win on a technicality.
On a technical, practical level the movie is a deconstruction of the deconstruction of horror movies. a deconstruction of the girl power witch midsommar bullshit of recent years. woo. round and round we go. On it’s own terms, on terms of being a movie, it fails. It’s absolutely mediocre in every aspect. It couldn’t be more of a 5/10 if it tried. It has absolutely nothing to say about women, about horror movies, about exploitation of women in the real world, in the industry, or in fiction. This is because it was written and directed by a woman. You’re welcome. miss. sweetie. lick your fingers for me. spit in my mouth. Prano Bailey-Bond please email me at bookreport@yandex.com with a picture of your spit and I will print it out and put it in my mouth.
It has absolutely nothing to say about women - it only has something to say about the author’s relationship to women. And that bit is sort of interesting.
it is refreshingly psychosexually honest I unironically applaud Prano Bailey-Bond for this
Hard to put into words how brilliant this is