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Friday, March 30, 2007
Zola’s Top Ten Virgin Questions
- Will
it hurt?
- How long does it take?
- What time of day gives peak performance?
- How will I know when it’s
over?
- Will I look different afterwards?
- Will my parents and friends be able
to tell?
- Does it have to be done
in a bed?
- Is it like learning to
swim, having to coordinate arms and legs, and coming up to breath? If so, how long will it take before I can do it right?
- How important is my partner to the
event?
- Is it true, once you start
you can’t ever stop?
And, what all curious
minds want to know: How many positions are there really?
Coming
next week:
Zola's 10 Unbelievable Lovemaking Facts
Thursday, March 29, 2007
The Sixties - The Truth about War Men Don't Want People to Know! Being a youth or college
student is usually the best and worst of times. Tests, exams, homework and dates. Music and staying up late, talking for hours
about life, death and everything in between. Working part-time, buying jeans, going to the Laundromat to clean clothes….
In youth, emotions are the core around which self-identity twists, and the primary emotions of love and hate dominate. My youth was scarred by Vietnam as today’s
youth is being crippled by the war in Iraq. American media tallies only the American dead, ignoring the
Iraqi dead. During Vietnam, talk of body bag counts was restricted to the military, not the media. I want to scream at the
TV: Where are the pictures, the biographies, the stories of the hundreds of thousands of Iraqi dead? The Iraqi students, the
fathers, the grandfathers, the mothers and wives? Where are their stories? A mere 3,000+ Americans dead, while an entire country lives without electricity, schools, shops,
food, safety. A mere 3,000+ Americans
dead while an entire developed country and culture is warred back to the Stone Age. Trillions of dollars benefit the rich who profit from this war, while blood
stains a new generation of volunteer soldiers, now both men and women. Why does every generation need to learn that war is hell? The hot hormones of 18 year old boys yearn
for adventure, with war being the biggest adventure on the planet. The most sickening and secret aspect of male reality I learned from a lover who was shot in the head
and left for dead in a rice paddy in Vietnam. He returned to the States, and used his killing knowledge for his new career.
“I kill for a living. That’s what I was trained to do, that’s what I do now.” He was also my best
sexual partner in bed because, as I write in THE GUITAR PLAYER & THE LADY KILLER, he knew the secret of making
love and life itself. He was the one who told
me that taking another person’s life was a thousand times more thrilling than any orgasm humanly possible. Think about it. That is why, IMHO, men
allow themselves to go to war. The excitement of the hunt, the thrill of all one’s biochemicals on constant dead-or-alive
alert, to be rewarded with the most thrilling experience humanly possible: taking the life of another person.
Peace
& Love,
Zola
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Welcome the 60s Sexual RevolutionThe Sixties
were hell. And heaven. When young people asked me about the Sixties when I taught college in the USA, I immediately talked
about how Vietnam ruined our lives, and that given the choice: Vietnam, death, murder, killing or being killed or
LSD, marihuana, music and altered states of consciousness – which would they choose?
Shock registered in their faces, “Nobody ever said it was like that…”
Romancing
the Sixties & Seventies, or Romancing the Sexual Revolution, is a horrendous distortion of the truth, IMHO.
Back in ‘69, when a roommate told me
that American soldiers, kids my own age, threw Vietnamese out from flying helicopters….. I was shocked. It was too
barbaric to be true. It was as if I were German and first heard about the concentration camps.
It was impossible to ignore the War on a college campus. Student deferments,
once only open to the middle-class, became more available to the lower class because of President Johnson’s War on Poverty.
The middle-class who supported the status-quo found themselves in heated discussions with the lower-class who had never benefited
from the System. They had been exploited. Their friends were in South Vietnam. Black Americans too poor to get II-S deferments
were dying in the front lines at unbelievably distorted rates compared to Whites in Vietnam. Unlike many of today’s
party colleges, the University of Illinois at Urbana was a hotbed of intellectualism, argument, rebellion, questioning and
protest. And yes, drugs too.
After the Tet Offense, and with the increase of troops, getting out of the War became more difficult. The
Draft Lottery transformed everyone’s birthday to their death-day or freedom. Escape options such as exile to Canada
or declaring one’s self homosexual were endlessly discussed. Word that declaring one’s self homosexual would show
up on every job application quickly nullified that option.
Now, on TV a politician is “Defending the War.” A former Hanoi Hilton resident. Talk about
insanity….
See what I mean? When I
talk about my youth, and the Sixties and Seventies, immediately Vietnam headlines appear.
The dressings of my youth were war, an Asian war where the cries of the hundreds
of thousands of victims penetrated the air I inhaled and polluted the air I exhaled. Sex, Drugs ‘n Rock ‘n Roll
were merely the accessories.
Peace & Love,
Zola
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