Excitement

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  I answer that, As the Apostle says (Eph. 5:13), “all that is made manifest is light,” because, to wit, just as the manifestation of the material sight takes place through material light, so too the manifestation of intellectual sight takes place through intellectual light. Accordingly manifestation must be proportionate to the light by means of which it takes place, even as an effect is proportionate to its cause. Since then prophecy pertains to a knowledge that surpasses natural reason, as stated above [3660](A[1]), it follows that prophecy requires an intellectual light surpassing the light of natural reason. Hence the saying of Micah 7:8: “When I sit in darkness, the Lord is my light.” Now light may be in a subject in two ways: first, by way of an abiding form, as material light is in the sun, and in fire; secondly, by way of a passion, or passing impression, as light is in the air. Now the prophetic light is not in the prophet’s intellect by way of an abiding form, else a prophet would always be able to prophesy, which is clearly false. For Gregory says (Hom. i super Ezech.): “Sometimes the spirit of prophecy is lacking to the prophet, nor is it always within the call of his mind, yet so that in its absence he knows that its presence is due to a gift.” Hence Eliseus said of the Sunamite woman (4 Kings 4:27): “Her soul is in anguish, and the Lord hath hid it from me, and hath not told me.” The reason for this is that the intellectual light that is in a subject by way of an abiding and complete form, perfects the intellect chiefly to the effect of knowing the principle of the things manifested by that light; thus by the light of the active intellect the intellect knows chiefly the first principles of all things known naturally. Now the principle of things pertaining to supernatural knowledge, which are manifested by prophecy, is God Himself, Whom the prophets do not see in His essence, although He is seen by the blessed in heaven, in whom this light is by way of an abiding and complete form, according to Ps. 35:10, “In Thy light we shall see light.”

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Here he had unquestionably a logical advantage over the Pelagians, who retained the traditional usage of infant baptism, but divested it of its proper import, made it signify a mere ennobling of a nature already good, and, to be consistent, should have limited baptism to adults for the forgiveness of actual sins. The Pelagians, however, were justly offended by the revolting inference of the damnation of unbaptized infants, which is nowhere taught in the Holy Scriptures, and is repugnant to every unperverted religious instinct. Pelagius inclined to assign to unbaptized infants a middle state of half-blessedness, between the kingdom of heaven appointed to the baptized and the hell of the ungodly; though on this point he is not positive.1825 He evidently makes salvation depend, not so much upon the Christian redemption, as upon the natural moral character of individuals. Hence also baptism had no such importance in his view as in that of his antagonist. Augustine, on the authority of Matt. xxv. 34, 46, and other Scriptures, justly denies a neutral middle state, and meets the difficulty by supposing different degrees of blessedness and damnation (which, in fact, must be admitted), corresponding to the different degrees of holiness and wickedness. But, constrained by the idea of original sin, and by the supposed necessity of baptism to salvation, he does not shrink from consigning unbaptized children to damnation itself,1826 though he softens to the utmost this frightful dogma, and reduces the damnation to the minimum of punishment or the privation of blessedness.1827 He might have avoided the difficulty, without prejudice to his premises, by his doctrine of the election of grace, or by assuming an extraordinary application of the merits of Christ in death or in Hades. But the Catholic doctrine of the necessity of outward baptism to regeneration and entrance into the kingdom of God, forbade him a more liberal view respecting the endless destiny of that half of the human race which die in childhood. We may recall, however, the noteworthy fact, that the third canon of the North-African council at Carthage in 418, which condemns the opinion that unbaptized children are saved, is in many manuscripts wanting, and is therefore of doubtful authenticity. The sternness of the Augustinian system here gave way before the greater power of Christian love. Even Augustine, De civitate Dei, speaking of the example of Melchisedec, ventures the conjecture, that God may have also among the heathen an elect people, true Israelites according to the spirit, whom He draws to Himself through the secret power of His spirit. Why, we may ask, is not this thought applicable above all to children, to whom we know the Saviour Himself, in a very special sense (and without reference to baptism) ascribes a right to the kingdom of heaven?

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  2332. But that one of the elements should be infinite and the rest finite is impossible; because in the case of a compound contraries must somehow be equalized in order that the compound may be preserved in being, for otherwise that contrary which exceeds the others will destroy them. But if one contrary is infinite and the rest finite, no equality will be established, since there is no proportion between the infinite and the finite. A compound, then, could not exist, for the infinite element would destroy the others. 2333. And since someone might say that a body which is finite in quantity has greater power, and that equality is achieved in this way (for example, if someone were to say that in a cornpound air is infinite and fire finite), he therefore adds that, even if we suppose that the active power of one body which is assumed to be infinite falls short of the active power of any one of the others, because these are assumed to be finite, the finite element will be destroyed by the infinite one; for a finite body must have a finite power, and then finite fire will have a finite power. Hence, if from infinite air a portion of air equal to the fire is taken out, its power will be less than that of the whole infinite air, but proportioned to the power of fire. Let us suppose, then, that the power of fire is a hundred times greater than that of air. Hence, if we take away a hundredfold of air from infinite air it will be equal to fire in power; and thus the whole infinite air will have a greater infinite power than fire and will destroy it. It is impossible, then, that one element of a compound should be infinite and the rest finite. 2334. Similarly, it is impossible that all should be infinite, because a body is what is extended in every dimension. But the infinite is what is infinite in dimension. Hence an infinite body must have an infinite dimension in every direction. But two bodies cannot be in the same place. Therefore two infinite bodies cannot be combined into one. 2335. Nor can the infinite (997). Second, he proves that the infinite cannot be a simple body. There cannot be a simple body apart from the elements, from which all of them are generated, as some claimed air to be, because each thing is dissolved into the elements of which it is composed. But we see that compounds are dissolved only into the four elements; and therefore there cannot be a simple body apart from the four elements.

• From The Divine Comedy (1950)

  Note that according to the conception prevalent in the Middle Ages, Enoch and Elijah, who were also taken up bodily from the earth, were not in heaven, but in the Earthly Paradise. Perhaps the present passage may be taken as indirect evidence that Dante too accepted the tradition

• From Erotic Astrology: The Sex Secrets of Your Horoscope Revealed (2009)

  Aquarius with Virgo: Temperamentally you’re very different, but on a mental level you’re both cerebral and analytical. Virgo delights in efficiency and order and may find the water bearer’s chaotic approach to life somewhat unnerving. Even so, a match between you two can result in a happy union if you’re able to confront your problems in a rational manner. Aquarius with Libra: Each of you is extremely friendly and sociable, while remaining somewhat detached emotionally. Libra is focused on partnership and dislikes spending time alone, while Aquarius is independent and needs some space. However, you two can resolve most of your differences by talking them through. Aquarius with Scorpio: Scorpio is the most controlling sign, and Aquarius is the least controllable. Whereas the scorpion is super emotional, the water bearer is cool-headed and logical. Yet Aquarius finds Scorpio’s compelling magnetism alluring, and the sexy scorpion is often fascinated by the quirky water bearer’s freewheeling Bohemianism. Aquarius with Sagittarius: Although the fiery archer may not understand the water bearer’s remoteness, the intense mental connection between you usually makes up for any lack of emotional intimacy. Your shared curiosity and adventurous spirits extend to the bedroom, where the lovemaking is sure to be imaginative, uninhibited, and full of fun. Aquarius with Capricorn: Both the goat and the water bearer are physically responsive, yet emotionally cool. Aquarius is a rebel; Capricorn is conventional. Still, a curious fascination can arise between you. Aquarius cherishes independence and may prefer friendship to commitment, but the goat can be persuasive. Aquarius with Aquarius: Sexually, you two are well matched. Although not as passionate as some, as lovers you’re inventive and open-minded. You know how to stimulate each other mentally and physically and, while your emotional temperatures may be a bit cooler than those of other couples, the bond of loyalty between you is stronger than most. Aquarius with Pisces: It can be difficult for you two to satisfy each other’s needs. Pisces demands attention and proof of love, when all Aquarius wants is to be left alone. Sexually, the sensuous fish projects an air of mystery that fascinates the water bearer, but the spell can be easily broken if your intimate moments turn into an emotional tug of war. Sun in Pisces

• From The Mating Mind: How Sexual Choice Shaped the Evolution of Human Nature (2000)

  12. Our ancestors as moderately polygynous: see Baker & Bellis (1995), Barkow (1989), Betzig (1986, 1997), Buss (1994, 1999), Daly & Wilson (1983, 1988), Ellis & Symons (1990), Hrdy (1999), Symonds (1979), Wrangham & Peterson (1996). 13. Sex differences in body size: Martin et al. (1994), Rogers & Mukherjee (1992). 14. Polygyny in hunter-gatherers: Betzig et al. (1988), Brown (1991), Chagnon (1983), Gregor (1985), Hill & Hurtado (1996), Shostak (1981). 15. Harems and Moulay Ismail: Betzig (1986); on Roman polygyny: Betzig (1992); for a critique of such examples, see Einon (1998). 16. Rise of monogamy in European Christian cultures: MacDonald (1995). 17. Polygyny among American presidents: Betzig & Weber (1993). 18. Unpredictability of sexual selection: Iwasa & Pomiankowski (1995). 19. Diversity of bowerbird nests: Borgia (1986); diversity of primates: Rowe (1996). 20. Our computer simulations on runaway: Miller (1994b), Miller & Todd (1993, 1995), Todd & Miller (1991, 1993, 1997b); for a general introduction to genetic algorithms: Mitchell (1998), see also Ziman (2000). 21. Speed and pattern of human brain evolution: Aiello & Dean (1990), Allman (1999), Jerison (1973); sexual selection and brain evolution: Falk (1997), Jacobs (1996). 22. Brain evolution happened in several bursts: Stanyon et al. (1993). Brain evolution in bursts is consistent with the “punctuated equilibrium” model proposed by Gould and Eldredge (1977), but their model assumed that the bursts would be driven by external environmental changes rather than by chance shifts in the endogenous mating preferences of a population. 23. The intensity of sexual competition appears to predict brain size in primates: Toshiyuki Sawaguchi found evidence of a 65 percent correlation between relative neocortex size and a sexual dimorphism index across 19 genera of monkeys and apes: Sawaguchi (1997). 24. Male brains are about 8 percent larger than female; the difference is not explained by differences in stature or body mass: Ankney (1992), Falk et al. (1999), Pakkenberg & Gundersen (1997). 25. Some sex differences in particular psychological adaptations: Halpern (1992). 26. No sex difference in general intelligence: Jensen (1998, pp. 536–542). 27. Arthur Jensen quote “The sex difference in psychometric g …”: Jensen (1998, p. 540). 28. No sex difference in scores on Raven’s Standard Progressive Matrices: Court (1983). 29. More male geniuses and idiots: Feingold (1992), Lubinski & Benbow (1992); on reasons for male risk-seeking in behavior and brain development see Daly & Wilson (1983). 30. Greater male variability in IQ not a reflection of greater variability in general intelligence: Feingold (1994), Jensen (1998, pp. 537, 541). 31. Evidence of greater male cultural output: Miller (1999b). 32. More data on age profiles of culture production: Simonton (1988). 33. Evolutionary views on sex differences in culture production and social status: Browne (1998), Goldberg (1993), feminist views on sex differences in culture production: Battersby (1989), Haraway (1989), Paglia (1990), Sommers (1994); on the possibility of an evolutionary feminism: Buss & Malamuth (1996), Fisher (1982, 1992, 1999), Gowaty (1997), Hrdy (1997, 1999), Lancaster (1991), Parish (1993), Smuts (1995).

• From Sex in the Sea: Our Intimate Connection with Kinky Crustaceans, Sex-Changing Fish, Romantic Lobsters, and Other Salty Erotica of the Deep (2016)

  Like the dry, vacant roads of the Old West, long stretches of sandy floor spread as endless plains fading into a pale horizon. Stirred by unseen currents, sand plumes rise like dust devils, swirling. A tangle of seaweed tumbles by. You can almost hear the far-off, forlorn whistle, harbinger of the showdown. Slowly, you begin to climb the side of a sand ripple, as steep as a mountain before you. And there, at the crest, your senses begin to tingle. On the horizon, from the faded blue distance, your opponent emerges. Descending the hill of sand, you confirm that this indeed is a worthy adversary. The distance between you narrows and you prepare for the assault. Rising up vertically, like the face of a wave, your head crests forward and you reveal your weapon. Forged by nature alone, this battle will not be fought with steel or iron, but with a male’s most prized possession, his most precious appendage: his penis. [image "arrow.ai" file=image_rsrc35T.jpg] [image "arrow.ai" file=image_rsrc35U.jpg] Spaghetti Westerns would look mighty different if cast with flatworms rather than cowboys. In the marvelous marine realm, there is no substitute for what Mother Nature has bequeathed. Two challengers simply rear up and clash their mighty man-swords to assert dominance and, with any luck, successfully stab their opponent. Unlike human duels to the death, however, the objective of this battle is not to kill. To the contrary, it is a fight to spark life. Nature’s most dexterous of fencing matches takes place between two animals each as flat as a pancake, each one bent on inseminating the other. They are penis-fencing hermaphroditic flatworms, found in shallow tropical waters such as the reefs off Australia. For most of their lives they move slowly, gliding gracefully over the seafloor, undulating ripples along their outer edge propelling them forward. But when opportunity strikes, so does the flatworm. In an impressive display of athleticism, these mostly two-dimensional creatures rise up like king cobras. Balanced on their rear halves, they peel up off the sand floor, exposing a clear white double-headed penis appropriately termed a stylet. They sway back and forth, two wrestlers before the grab, looking for the opening. Without bones, they flex and bend at extraordinary angles, as fluid as their environment, limited only by their marginal length. Many strikes will miss, or be aborted at the last minute as one flatworm ducks and dives to avoid being stabbed. Their thin bodies ruffle, flexing with exertion, coiling and striking, curling and bending, flattening and gliding into a new position. These worms match agility with endurance, engaging in battles that can last up to an hour, with both combatants likely suffering stab wounds by the end. It is a rather violent mating strategy for species that technically have all the parts they need to perform a much gentler self-fertilization, so why go through such an ordeal?

• From Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years (2009)

  1 Greece and Rome (c. 1000 BCE–100 CE) GREEK BEGINNINGS Why begin in Greece and not in a stable in Bethlehem of Judaea? Because in the beginning was the Word. The Evangelist John’s Gospel narrative of Jesus the Christ has no Christmas stable; it opens with a chant or hymn in which ‘Word’ is a Greek word, logos. The Word, says John, was God, and became human flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.1 This logos means far more than simply ‘word’: logos is the story itself. Logos echoes with significances which give voice to the restlessness and tension embodied in the Christian message. It means not so much a single particle of speech, but the whole act of speech, or the thought behind the speech, and from there its meanings spill outwards into conversation, narrative, musing, meaning, reason, report, rumour, even pretence. John goes on to name this logos as a man who makes known his Father God: his name is Jesus Christ. So there we read a second Greek word: Christ. To the very ordinary Jewish name of this man, Joshua/Yeshua (which has also ended up in a Greek form, ‘Jesus’), his followers added ‘Christos’ as a second name, after he had been executed on a cross.2 It is notable that they felt it necessary to make this Greek translation of a Hebrew word, ‘Messiah’, or ‘Anointed One’, when they sought to describe the special, foreordained character of their Joshua. In life, the carpenter’s son who died on the Cross would certainly have known Greek-speakers well, but they were the folks in the town down the road from his own Jewish hometown of Nazareth: other people, not his people. The name ‘Christ’ underlines the importance of Greek culture from the earliest days of Christianity, as Christians struggled to find out what their message was and how the message should be proclaimed. So the words ‘logos’ and ‘Christos’ tell us what a tangle of Greek and Jewish ideas and memories underlies the construction of Christianity. How, then, did Greeks become so involved in the story of a man who was named after the Jewish folk hero Joshua and whom many saw as fulfilling a Jewish tradition of ‘Anointed One’, saviour of the Jewish people? We must

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Nicolas Cop, the son of a distinguished royal physician (William Cop of Basel), and a friend of Calvin, was elected Rector of the University, Oct. 10, 1533, and delivered the usual inaugural oration on All Saint’s Day, Nov. 1, before a large assembly in the Church of the Mathurins.427 This oration, at the request of the new Rector, had been prepared by Calvin. It was a plea for a reformation on the basis of the New Testament, and a bold attack on the scholastic theologians of the day, who were represented as a set of sophists, ignorant of the Gospel. "They teach nothing," says Calvin, "of faith, nothing of the love of God, nothing of the remission of sins, nothing of grace, nothing of justification; or if they do so, they pervert and undermine it all by their laws and sophistries. I beg you, who are here present, not to tolerate any longer these heresies and abuses."428 The Sorbonne and the Parliament regarded this academic oration as a manifesto of war upon the Catholic Church, and condemned it to the flames. Cop was warned and fled to his relatives in Basel.429 Calvin, the real author of the mischief, is said to have descended from a window by means of sheets, and escaped from Paris in the garb of a vine-dresser with a hoe upon his shoulder. His rooms were searched and his books and papers were seized by the police.430 § 75. Persecution of the Protestants in Paris. 1534. Beza in Vita Calv., vol. XXI. 124.—Jean Crespin: Livre des Martyrs, Genève, 1570.—The report of the Bourgeois de Paris.—Gerdesius, IV. Mon. 11. Henry, I. 74; II. 333.—Dyer, I. 29.—Polenz, I. 282.—Kampschulte, I. 243.—"Bulletin de la Soc. de l’hist. du Prot. franç.," X. 34; XI. 253. This storm might have blown over without doing much harm. But in the following year the reaction was greatly strengthened by the famous placards, which gave it the name of "the year of placards." An over-zealous, fanatical Protestant by the name of Feret, a servant of the king’s apothecary, placarded a tract "on the horrible, great, intolerable abuses of the popish mass," throughout Paris and even at the door of the royal chamber at Fontainebleau, where the king was then residing, in the night of Oct. 18, 1534. In this placard the mass is described as a blasphemous denial of the one and all-sufficient sacrifice of Christ; while the pope, with all his brood (toute sa vermine) of cardinals, bishops, priests, and monks, are denounced as hypocrites and servants of Antichrist.431 All moderate Protestants deplored this untimely outburst of radicalism. It retarded and almost ruined the prospects of the Reformation in France. The best cause may be undone by being overdone. The king was highly and justly incensed, and ordered the imprisonment of all suspected persons. The prisons were soon filled.

• From The Mating Mind: How Sexual Choice Shaped the Evolution of Human Nature (2000)

  Another possible answer to the speed quandary is to forget about fossil brains, and focus on human mental abilities. We do not know when language, art, and creativity evolved. Perhaps they all evolved together when modern Homo sapiens emerged about 100,000 years ago. Some archeologists even think that these capacities all evolved in a single burst 35,000 years ago, in an event they call the “Upper Paleolithic revolution.” Such rapid evolution might reflect a single runaway process operating over a few thousand generations in a single population, transforming a large-brained but unintelligent hominid into an intelligent, talkative human. The earlier brain-size bursts may have occurred for some other reason. Perhaps the key transition to the human mind was a brain reorganization rather than a simple brain size increase. The reorganization may not be evident in the record of fossil skulls, but may be more psychologically significant than earlier size increases. It may have been driven by a burst of runaway sexual selection relatively late in human evolution. However, this theory fails to explain why brain size increased in all those bursts before our species evolved. It seems to me that the multi-burst trend toward larger brains should be explained rather than ignored. Pure runaway cannot explain it, because runaway does not have any intrinsic bias toward larger ornament size, higher ornament cost, or greater ornament complexity. The problem with runaway is not just its rocket-like speed. Its more fundamental problem is its neutrality, which makes it weak at explaining multi-step trends that last millions of years. The next chapter examines another sexual selection process that is much better at driving sustained progress in one direction. Runaway Produces Large Sex DifferencesAnother problem with the runaway brain theory is that runaway is supposed to produce large sex differences in whatever trait is under sexual selection. Peacock tails are much larger than peahen tails. If the human brain tripled in size because of runaway sexual selection, we might expect that increase to be confined to males. Men would have three-pound brains, and women would still have one-pound brains like other apes. This has not happened. Male human brains average 1,440 grams, while female brains average 1,250 grams. If one measures brain size relative to body size, the sex difference in human brain size shrinks to 100 grams. This 8 percent difference is larger than would be predicted by a sex-blind theory like E. O. Wilson’s cultural feedback loop, or the Machiavellian intelligence hypothesis. But it is much smaller than the runaway brain theory would predict.

• From Action (2014)

  • Spit? Swallow? Get it all over thine face? What you do when a person is coming depends on your taste in both literal and figurative senses. De gustibus non est disputatem, and neither is how you choose to receive come. A secret: Lots of dudes privately love their own semen, as delivered mouth-to-mouth. There’s always exploring that option! Where to Position Yourself Penetrative sex, whether you’re having it vaginally or anally, can be approached from many different angles. You can be creative here without pretzeling yourself and your partner into an overly ambitious, tantric-ass tangle! It might sound boring, but I like positions that allow me to see as much of my person’s body as possible—especially the ones I don’t get to when they’re clothed—which sometimes means missionary. Any way you can fit your body with your person’s, or with a toy that they’re using, is right as long as you like it. Try combinations of face-to-face, face-to-floor, face-against-a-mirror, et alia, of which you can conceive, and you’ll know where to position yourself forever after. AN INTRODUCTION TO ASS [image file=image_782.jpg] Anal stimulation is in a class of its own, pleasure-wise, regardless of your gender or sexuality. It’s up to you whether you find this “gross” or not, but I’m disinclined to write off something so matchlessly hot as “ew totally disgusting.” You use every other appendage or orifice mentioned here for more than one function, and hands, if there were some argument to be made about which are least hygienic, take the cake. But I’m not the kind to raise those points in reality. If you’re freaked out by anything anal, please try to suspend your anxiety for a moment and consider the following: Taking something near or in your ass feels good like no other sexual contact—it’s entirely its own brand of rad. The amount of next-day accolades I’ve received from a person who was trying anything anal-related for the first time could fill a modest trophy case with obscene-looking statuettes. The reward of easing into this bit by bit far outweighs the non-risk of feeling dirty. Look: I can’t handle bathroom jokes because I find them excessive, and I love to eat ass.

• From The Ultimate Guide to Orgasm for Women: How to Become Orgasmic for a Lifetime (2011)

  Elizabeth learned to masturbate when she was six while waiting for a teacher to take her to the toilet. Because she was desperate to have a pee, she was crossing her legs tightly and found that it felt really good. From then on she touched herself regularly, and two years later she had her first orgasm from stroking her clitoris. Donna was reading in bed at the age of eight or nine, with the sheets bunched up between her legs, rubbing on them without even realizing it, when she had what she called “a nice, fun experience.” For a while she was fascinated and played around with it a lot, though she says she never masturbated regularly. Another woman wrote that she had an affair with her pillow; she used to stuff it down the bed between her legs, lie on her side, and wiggle it. She was often worried that her parents would find it and want to know why it was there. Two women said their first orgasms came through being licked by the family dog. Another told me she was around nine when she first came by rubbing herself through satiny undies. And another wrote of coming while being touched by a boy she was playing with, when they were both six years old. A Child’s View of Sex Many children don’t know what sex is, or they have been told that sex involves two people, so it is quite possible for a child to touch herself without having any idea that she’s being sexual. From early childhood I masturbated regularly, though I had no idea what I was doing, no idea it had anything to do with “sex.” I would rub around and around on my clitoral shaft, just above my clitoris (not that I knew what that was either), and it didn’t even feel very pleasurable until all of a sudden the feeling “caught”—those were the words I thought of at the time. Those seconds of pleasure were, I realized as an adult, baby orgasms. They’re just experimenting with their bodies, finding out what it’s like being alive. If they’re not specifically warned not to touch themselves “down there,” they’re unlikely to have any moral judgments attached to it; even if they are told that it’s taboo, they may think of it in the same way as they think of defecating, or walking around naked: everybody does it, you just mustn’t do it in public. Many girls don’t realize that masturbation is about sex until they are a lot older, because the fumbling attempts of teenage boys to “get in their pants” feel very different from the nice feelings they have been giving themselves. Victoria, who later came to enjoy sex with men, says that in her early teens: I never associated what the boys wanted from me with what I did to myself. I didn’t like the feel of their hands on my body, and I hated the way they kissed me.

• From The Erotic Mind (1995)

  My boyfriend took me home after I watched him play in his band. Earlier that evening we were messing around so we were still pretty jazzed. We parked in my parents’ driveway. The backseat was filled with his band equipment so he crawled over the stick shift and sat on top of me. He undid my bra and my pants as I reached inside his pants. We kissed and touched until we couldn’t stand it anymore. We switched places so I was on top. My pants were all the way off and his were around his ankles. With my legs sprawled apart, I sat on top of him so his penis could reach deep inside of me. There we were, bobbing up and down, kissing passionately and looking over our shoulders in case someone came outside to greet us—it was all very exciting. It was daring to make love with my parents inside. They hated my boyfriend because they thought he was trying to seduce me! It only took a few moments for both of us to come, calm down, and put our clothes back on. We laughed and kissed as he walked me to the door and said good night, both of us looking quite smug. You can see how the push-pull of inhibition versus titillation can be a high-stakes juggling act. These two are courting disaster and having a terrific time. Fewer adults are forced into such classic predicaments, but the thrill of naughtiness is ageless and timeless. Thirty-seven percent of The Group’s peak encounters contain similar references to the excitement and risks of violating prohibitions. They often use words such as “raunchy,” “sleazy,” or “trashy” to highlight the forbidden quality of their behaviors. For grown-ups, two situations are most likely to activate the naughtiness factor: (1) a risk of getting caught or discovered and (2) an attraction to disapproved partners. BEYOND PRIVACYA common feature of adolescent sexuality is the quest to find a corner of private space hidden from the watchful eyes of disapproving adults. Once we become adults, most of us choose to have the vast majority of our sexual encounters in private. Nonetheless, the adolescent struggle for autonomy and privacy sets the stage for adults to be aroused by the thrill of sneaking, hiding, or risking discovery. This is why even married partners can get an extra charge from making out in the car. They’re not really afraid of being caught or punished, but the ambiance of naughtiness increases the erotic tension—not so much, however, that it gets in the way. Hillary, a fifty-year-old fashion designer, wife, and mother, describes the dilemma posed by a family vacation and the sparks that resulted. Much to their dismay, she and her husband had rented a too-small cottage in which it was impossible for them to get away from the kids. “We were forced into celibacy,” she lamented. After four days of frustration she and her husband finally took a walk alone in a park:

• From Chasing Beauty

  Fifteen“Dazzling”1889Tonight is the night! The Fancy Ball night!” exclaimed Ellen Wayles Coolidge, teenage niece to Jack’s sister Julia Gardner Coolidge, in a letter dated April 26, 1889. Boston society had been agog for months about the upcoming ball. Also called the Artists’ Festival, it was being sponsored by the Art Students’ Association (now called the Copley Society of Art) and hosted by Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts, then located in the highly decorated Gothic revival building on the rim of Copley Square. The “social atmosphere” had been “full of a delightful mystery,” reported the Saturday Evening Gazette, because “Bohemia and Back Bay were to meet on common ground” for one spectacular evening of dress-up. Varying parts of Boston society—from the arts and from business and patrons such as Isabella—intermingled for the good cause of raising funds for the association. A neighbor described in great detail all the different costumes she anticipated seeing that night: a Pyrenees peasant, a Joan of Arc, a Portia from Shakespeare. She shared that Mrs. Gardner had encouraged a Miss Cabot to dress as “La Primavera by Botticelli” and gushed: “I imagine Mrs. Brimmer and Mrs. Gardner as too dazzling to behold.” Festivals like this one were popular in Europe, with townspeople donning historical costumes to bring beloved paintings to life in day-long parades through city streets. The evening at the Museum of Fine Arts had taken months to plan. Outfits had to be submitted for review to a committee of artists to check for historical accuracy. Wearing Grandmother’s embroidered shawl would not do. Ten members of the Boston Symphony Orchestra were hired to play the evening’s music, from Hungarian Dances by Brahms and the overture to The Merry Wives of Windsor by Otto Nicolai to Spanish Dances by Moszkowski. The musicians were to stay hidden from view, so music would seem to float spontaneously through rooms hung with “fine, old tapestries.” When the night came, gale-force winds and lashing rain delayed the 8 P.M. start time, as attendees struggled to disembark from shiny black carriages lined up like a brigade on either side of the street. An elaborate arch of laurel spanned the museum’s main staircase. Entryways were filled with towering palm trees. Pages dressed in Elizabethan costume stood at attention in the doorways. Inside the main gallery, fourteen patronesses wearing gowns in the style of sixteenth-century Venice sat arrayed on an elevated dais—like “a living picture” by Paolo Veronese, according to one attendee. Isabella was among them, along with her friend the artist Sarah Wyman Whitman; Octavie Apthorp, who with her husband, William Foster Apthorp, hosted Sunday evening musical soirees at their Louisburg Square home; Frances Lang, wife of the pianist and conductor B. J. Lang; and the imperious Marianna Brimmer, who together with her husband, the long-time president of the Museum of Fine Arts, Martin Brimmer, were hosts of the evening and arbiters of much of Boston’s high society.

• From Etched in Sand (2013)

  Every day during my breaks, I scan the classifieds for a job I feel passionately about. Unfortunately, the only openings at places even remotely dealing with public policy are for typists. Of all the courses I took in high school and college, not one was for typing. No matter how I calculate it, there’s no possible way I can learn how to type eighty words per minute—with a stopwatch and no mistakes—all by myself. Still, I take the train to the interviews in Manhattan, a place that’s romancing me more with every ninety-minute ride on the Long Island Rail Road. After a few failed interviews, I figure out a way to pass the typing test: Because I’m allowed to practice on the same script and the same typewriter I’ll be using for the test, I take my time to type the script with no mistakes . . . then I place it under my typewriter. Then I roll in a blank sheet of paper, and after the timekeeper starts her watch and leaves the room, I switch out the practice paper with the perfect script. Finally, I get a second interview for a typist position at the New York Junior League, a prestigious organization for young women that works on nonprofit causes. It’s perfect . I show up for the interview in a dark suit and white blouse with dark, low shoes—conservative and easy to foot around Manhattan. I enter the fine-carpeted cherry lobby, ready to dazzle my future boss with information on the statewide policy issues I worked on during my internship at the Senate and my solid letters of recommendation. But when they ask me to take a typing test under the watch of a timekeeper, I know how this will end. I type a total of thirty-two words in one minute, with twelve mistakes. Then I thank them, grab my bag, and bow my head to quickly leave. In August I’m called to interview for a position as an advocate for the Eastern Paralyzed Veterans Association. They are located in Jackson Heights, Queens, in the shining new offices that have been converted from the old Bulova watch factory. I take the Long Island Rail Road to the Woodside station, where a shuttle equipped for wheelchairs picks me up and drops me off in front of the EPVA’s office. Smelling the fresh construction, the prospect of entering this bright building morning after morning adds excitement to my steps heading toward the EPVA’s lobby. There I’m greeted by my potential bosses—all quadriplegic or paraplegic men in wheelchairs who were disabled during their service in the Vietnam and Korean wars. During the interview they tell me they need to fill an entry-level position with someone who can advocate on their behalf on the local and state levels. “We need someone who won’t have a problem making trips to Albany and traveling across Long Island on our behalf,” one explains.

• From My Life on the Road (2015)

  Now I was learning that the best way to help was to strengthen the movements that embody principles, so those movements could themselves generate support for the candidates who voted for those principles. More than any volunteer or staff member inside a candidate’s race—or any journalist or activist making points from outside—a movement can pioneer new issues and motivate voters. As Bella always knew, you didn’t just ask for support, you created support—from what Bella named “the gender gap.” Women of all groups were measurably more likely than their male counterparts to vote for equality, health, and education, and against violence as a way of solving conflict. It wasn’t about biology, but experience. —IN 1984 I SAW WHAT I wasn’t sure I ever would: a woman as the vice-presidential candidate on a major party ticket, not just a symbol but someone who had a chance of winning. Geraldine Ferraro was no older or more conflict-loving than I, yet she had survived political opposition and media attacks by campaigning from the bottom up. In fact, she would travel more miles around the country than her presidential running mate, Walter Mondale, and twice as many as their opponents, Ronald Reagan and George Bush, combined. I noticed that she was supported by everyday citizens who gathered in halls large and small. Even at the Democratic Convention in San Francisco, she traded an elite, high-level reception for a populist event organized by the NWPC, and stood on a huge stage surrounded by women elected leaders—a category that couldn’t have filled a small room a few years before. Parents put their little girls on their shoulders to see the future, and more than a few women were in tears. They weren’t witnessing one woman’s win, but what they, too, could become. And Ferraro would need their support. At every stop, Catholic officials condemned her for supporting family planning and legal abortion. I noticed they hadn’t attacked Senator Ted Kennedy, also a pro-choice Catholic, in the same way—as if tacitly admitting that it was strong, rebellious women who were the problem. Also reporters kept asking Ferraro if a woman could be “tough enough” to “push the button,” meaning declare a war, though they didn’t ask male candidates if they could be wise enough not to. Forests of newsprint were spent on her hair, though not on Reagan’s obviously dyed and sprayed pompadour. Barbara Bush told reporters that Ferraro was something that couldn’t be said on television but “rhymes with rich.” Most of all, Ferraro was accused of profiting from questionable real estate dealings by her husband, a charge that seemed partly attached to their Italian names. Such accusations subsided only after she spent hours answering questions until even reporters ran out of things to ask. At a campaign rally in Pennsylvania, I’d climbed onto a makeshift stage to stand at the side with other reporters, all of us awaiting Ferraro’s arrival. I was amazed to get cheers from this big and diverse audience.

• From The Spiritual Works of Leo Tolstoy (selected nonfiction) (2016)

  Long live France!' "In conformity with naval law, Admiral Avelán and the officers of his staff landed, in order to greet the local authorities. On the quay the Russian sailors were met by the chief marine staff of France and the superior officers of the port of Toulon. There ensued a universal friendly hand-shaking, accompanied by the boom of cannon and the ringing of bells. A band of marine music played the hymn 'God save the Tsar,' drowned by the thunderous shouts of the public, 'Long live the Tsar! Long live Russia!' These exclamations blended into one mighty sound, which drowned the music and the salvos from the guns. "Eye-witnesses declare that at this moment the enthusiasm of the innumerable mass of people reached its highest limits, and that it is impossible to express in words with what sensations the hearts of all those present were filled. Admiral Avelán, with bared head, and accompanied by Russian and French officers, directed his steps to the building of the Marine Office, where the French minister of marine was waiting for him. "In receiving the admiral, the minister said: 'Kronstadt and Toulon are two places which bear witness to the sympathy between the Russian and the French nations; you will everywhere be met as dear friends. The government and all of France welcome you upon your arrival and that of your companions, who represent a great and noble nation.' "The admiral replied that he was not able to express all his gratitude. 'The Russian squadron and all of Russia,' he said, 'will remember the reception you have given us.' "After a short conversation, the admiral, saying good-bye to the minister, a second time thanked him for the reception, and added, 'I do not want to part from you before pronouncing those words which are imprinted in all Russian hearts: "Long live France!"'" (Rural Messenger , 1893, No. 41.) Such was the meeting at Toulon. In Paris the meeting and the celebrations were more remarkable still. Here is the way the meeting in Paris was described in the newspapers: "All eyes were directed to the Boulevard des Italiens, whence the Russian sailors were to appear. Finally the boom of a whole hurricane of exclamations and applauses is heard in the distance. The boom grows stronger and more audible. The hurricane is apparently approaching. A mighty motion takes place on the square. Policemen rush forward to clear a path toward the Cercle Militaire, but this is by no means an easy task. There is an incredible crush and pressure in the crowd.... Finally the head of the procession appears in the square. At the same moment a deafening shout, 'Vive la Russie! Vive les Russes! ' rises over it. All bare their heads, the public, packed close in the windows, on the balconies, perched even on the roofs, wave handkerchiefs, flags, and hats, applaud madly, and from the windows of the upper stories throw clouds of small many-coloured cockades.

• From Holy Ghost Girl (2012)

  His eyes searched the floor as if looking for a path that would take him where the spirit would have him go.“God chose Moses. That’s why he didn’t let him drown. God had a plan for him and Moses didn’t want any part of it. He was running from God.”Running from God. That was it. That was his way in. “You can’t outrun God. When God chooses you, you’re chosen for life.”Brother Terrell stepped off the platform into the narrow space between the altar and the pews. “I said you’re chosen for life.” He moved relentlessly, back and forth, picking up speed and volume as he went.“You can take a wrong turn!”Encouragement came from the back of the congregation. “Yes. Amen, you can.”“You can get stuck in Egypt for years.” He broke into a run across the front of the church.The audience couldn’t resist. “Uh-huh. Come on now, Brother.”The deacons in the front row raised their eyebrows and chuckled. Maybe this boy really could preach. He stopped and squalled into the face of one of the church’s biggest supporters. “You may get stuck on a bench. You may feel like you’re wasting your life and your talent.”The deacon was taken aback, but his arms shot into the air when Brother Terrell clapped his hands on the man’s head. “Restore his zeal, Lord. Bring him back to that holy ground, that hallowed place where you first made yourself known to him. In the name of Jesus, amen.”Brother Terrell launched back into his sermon with the same volume and fervor as before. He headed down the center aisle of the church. “You may be about to give up. You may think that no one hears your cries, that no one cares. But I’m here to tell you that I AM, the Lord God Almighty, has heard your cry.”He reached the back of the church and started back toward the front. It was as if there were something inside him that would not let him stand still, would not let him shut up. Words and movement and sweat poured from him. His shirt was soaked. The Brylcreem failed and a slick hank of hair fell across his forehead. He ranted like a man possessed.“I AM has seen your affliction. I AM has felt your sorrow. I AM will deliver you, I said he will take you by the hand and lead you out of the land of bondage.” Each time he screamed the words “I am,” he threw himself forward at the waist until he was crouched at a ninetydegree angle to the floor, running up and down the aisle. Steady murmurs of “amen,” “hallelujah,” “thank you, Jesus,” and “yes, Lord, yes” ran under and around Brother Terrell’s words, a rowdy communion of sounds and syllables that blurred the boundaries between preacher and congregation.He reached the front of the church and fell to his knees.

• From Beyond Belief

  The first morning, we were driven by bus to the base after breakfast. The team was going to be assembling the new E-Meters in Building 36, Hubbard E-Meter Manufacturing, HEM. The place was buzzing, as we needed to get the machines ready for the May 9 launch date. Tons of staff were working there, even people from other posts who had come to help. We were divided into different sections along the line, so I was never in one section for more than a couple of weeks during the nearly year-long assignment during which time I got to work in every section. I started off hot-stamping the plastic E-Meter casings with dial numbers and letters, and ended up in QC, Quality Control, where my job was to catch any glitches in the finished product. There were only three of us in QC, and we had to plug the finished E-Meters into all sorts of machines and do tests at different settings. HEM had a certain quota to make, and we were getting closer each day, as May 9 approached. Every time an E-Meter passed through the QC department, we would ring a bell and everyone would cheer. Working in QC was sometimes exciting and sometimes nerve-racking. Throughout the day, senior executives would come through to inspect our work. There was a period of time when I was rejecting many E-Meters, so the execs brought in a technical guy to see if the problem was with my inspections or the meters. The tech expert concluded that the E-Meters were problem-free, so it must have been me. I stood my ground, insisting the meters were faulty based on the standard tests I had done. I even demonstrated the problem to several executives, and when it turned out that I was correct, I was praised for persevering. The E-Meter assembly project went on for a few months. Mom was often the inspector. She would give me a hug and check on me, then go on her way. I was impressed by how everyone seemed to love and respect her while also fearing her. In the Sea Org, this was called “Ethics Presence,” which was essentially a combination of fear and respect, both of which were considered necessary to get compliance. Because we were already accustomed to working long hours, it really was no sweat, and working at a desk was much easier than deck work at the Ranch. When we worked at HEM, we stayed there all day, only going home in the evening in time for dinner, followed by studies. I was still in charge of the Children until they went to bed.

• From Testo Junkie: Sex, Drugs, and Biopolitics in the Pharmacopornographic Era (2013)

  around among these anonymous bodies, all these mascu- linities and femininities (including one’s own) appear like caricatures that, thanks to a tacit convention, are seem- ingly unconscious of being so. There is no ontological dif- ference between these embodiments of gender and mine. All of them are performative products to which different frames of cultural intelligibility confer various degrees of legitimacy. The difference is found in the degree of self- reflection, of consciousness, of compulsion, of the perfor- mative dimension of these roles. Becoming a drag king is seeing through the matrix of gender, noticing that men and women are performative and somatic fictions, convinced of their natural reality. This vision of the world makes you laugh, blows a current of buoyant air under your feet, makes you float—political ecstasy. With time, from one workshop to another, my other drag king egos appear: Bruno (the name I gave myself when I was a kid to get into a boxing club with my father), Miguel, Alex. But it is Pedro Lemebel who gives me my drag king name, while I am organizing a workshop in Santiago, Chile, in 2004. Pedro Lemebel had organized a party at his house to welcome me. He received me wearing a long black dress and a strand of blue plastic beads around his neck; he was bare-chested on a winter day with a red turban on his head, à la Simone de Beauvoir. “I burned my head trying to rid it of boldness,” he said me. I had never seen anyone like him. He kissed me and told me, “Ya llegó la niña revolucionaria.” 42 I loved him from the first moment I saw him. “Lemebel 42. Translates to “Here comes the revolutionary kid.” 374 The micropolitics of Gender in the Pharmacopornographic era