Once you understand your personal rhythm,
you intuitively connect yourself with all the people who share a similar rhythm.
These people are womankind.
Which leads us to honoring the single most excoriated group of women in the world.
Not virgins.
Not mothers.
One more guess.
Whores
I am thankful to have been blessed with a fairly well-developed sense of entitlement
during the composition of every chapter in Cunt.
Except this one.
This one’s been difficult.
I’ve never been a Whore.
I’ve read and thought about and talked to
Whores. As a woman living in this society, I’m consistently reminded I am a potential Whore whenever a man is not escorting me, which is rather most of the time. None
of this, however, is the same as consciously experiencing Whoredom firsthand. If I were a truly resourceful and courageous individual, I would’ve learned how to be a Whore for subsistence
while I wrote this book. Alas, I am an impractical chickenshit in this regard.
Whores are a very important part of Cunt . Every time I’ve tried to explain why, though, I’ve met this insecurity inside myself.
It is a very cranky insecurity that says stuff like, “You don’t know what it’s like
to be a Whore, you dang fool. Can’t base no chapter on sneaky suspicions.”
But Whoredom is a massive part of our history and power as women. When fully instructed
in the art of sacred sexual power, Whores are the people who can teach us all the
stuff we grow up not learning about sexuality, our bodies and our innate sexual power.
Our cultural ignorance and intolerance of Whores keeps Whores from realizing the full
potential of Whoredom. It likewise robs women and men of Teachers who can help us
understand women’s sexual power.
Whores were a central part of religion, spirituality and everyday life in times when
the Goddess—a truly sexual being—was overtly worshipped. It took a lot of work, study, devotion and commitment
to become one of the Goddess’s sexual priestesses. People were free to visit the temples
of Whores, and did so to learn, to love, to open up physically, to heal.
I ruminated over this chapter for a long time, and prayed the Goddess would help me.
Like always, She came through. This time She manifested Herself in a woman named Carol
Queen, a writer, sex activist and Whore.
You won’t find Carol Queen in the acknowledgment section because I know people don’t
always read the praises in books, and I want everyone to know:
Carol Queen fucking rules.
Woman, you saved my ass and
I thank you
from the bottom of my heart.
Ms. Queen’s book, Real Live Nude Girl , published in 1997 by Cleis Press, casts resplendent light on the history of sacred
Whoredom. Carol Queen reveals that the depravity surrounding Whoredom is not based
on the fact that Whoredom exists, but rather, it is based on the perception of Whoredom’s existence.
My “ardent worshippers” and I have no temple today in which to perform a dance that
sometimes seems more profane than sacred. In a culture that does not worship the Goddess
any longer, these are degenerate times indeed, but not because a once-holy act is
still being negotiated in hotel suites, in massage parlors, on city streets. In fact,
if prostitution is ever eradicated, it will be a signal that Christianity’s murder
of Eros is complete, the Goddess’s rule completely overturned. Perhaps most prostitutes
today are unaware that their profession has a sacred history, and doubtless most clients
would define what they do with us as something other than worship. But I believe that
an echo of the old relationship, when he was the seeker and she was the Source, are
still present when money changes hands today. (Queen, 1997, 190)
It would be so wonderful to visit a Sacred Whore temple. Kick down some cash to mix with and undulate in the
ol’ Goddess’s love juices for a while.
Damn , I’m so seethingly jealous of those
you intuitively connect yourself with all the people who share a similar rhythm.
These people are womankind.
Which leads us to honoring the single most excoriated group of women in the world.
Not virgins.
Not mothers.
One more guess.
Whores
I am thankful to have been blessed with a fairly well-developed sense of entitlement
during the composition of every chapter in Cunt.
Except this one.
This one’s been difficult.
I’ve never been a Whore.
I’ve read and thought about and talked to
Whores. As a woman living in this society, I’m consistently reminded I am a potential Whore whenever a man is not escorting me, which is rather most of the time. None
of this, however, is the same as consciously experiencing Whoredom firsthand. If I were a truly resourceful and courageous individual, I would’ve learned how to be a Whore for subsistence
while I wrote this book. Alas, I am an impractical chickenshit in this regard.
Whores are a very important part of Cunt . Every time I’ve tried to explain why, though, I’ve met this insecurity inside myself.
It is a very cranky insecurity that says stuff like, “You don’t know what it’s like
to be a Whore, you dang fool. Can’t base no chapter on sneaky suspicions.”
But Whoredom is a massive part of our history and power as women. When fully instructed
in the art of sacred sexual power, Whores are the people who can teach us all the
stuff we grow up not learning about sexuality, our bodies and our innate sexual power.
Our cultural ignorance and intolerance of Whores keeps Whores from realizing the full
potential of Whoredom. It likewise robs women and men of Teachers who can help us
understand women’s sexual power.
Whores were a central part of religion, spirituality and everyday life in times when
the Goddess—a truly sexual being—was overtly worshipped. It took a lot of work, study, devotion and commitment
to become one of the Goddess’s sexual priestesses. People were free to visit the temples
of Whores, and did so to learn, to love, to open up physically, to heal.
I ruminated over this chapter for a long time, and prayed the Goddess would help me.
Like always, She came through. This time She manifested Herself in a woman named Carol
Queen, a writer, sex activist and Whore.
You won’t find Carol Queen in the acknowledgment section because I know people don’t
always read the praises in books, and I want everyone to know:
Carol Queen fucking rules.
Woman, you saved my ass and
I thank you
from the bottom of my heart.
Ms. Queen’s book, Real Live Nude Girl , published in 1997 by Cleis Press, casts resplendent light on the history of sacred
Whoredom. Carol Queen reveals that the depravity surrounding Whoredom is not based
on the fact that Whoredom exists, but rather, it is based on the perception of Whoredom’s existence.
My “ardent worshippers” and I have no temple today in which to perform a dance that
sometimes seems more profane than sacred. In a culture that does not worship the Goddess
any longer, these are degenerate times indeed, but not because a once-holy act is
still being negotiated in hotel suites, in massage parlors, on city streets. In fact,
if prostitution is ever eradicated, it will be a signal that Christianity’s murder
of Eros is complete, the Goddess’s rule completely overturned. Perhaps most prostitutes
today are unaware that their profession has a sacred history, and doubtless most clients
would define what they do with us as something other than worship. But I believe that
an echo of the old relationship, when he was the seeker and she was the Source, are
still present when money changes hands today. (Queen, 1997, 190)
It would be so wonderful to visit a Sacred Whore temple. Kick down some cash to mix with and undulate in the
ol’ Goddess’s love juices for a while.
Damn , I’m so seethingly jealous of those
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