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Love in the Time of Terrorism
September 24, 2001
In the past two weeks, since the world changed, I've learned a lot about Afghanistan, about civil liberties, about what an ignorant person I've been all my lucky life and about how my next-door neighbors really feel about Arabs. This is also the first time in my (completely un-college-educated) life I've approached something so visceral from such a distance — learning from the computer and television screen rather than from what goes into and goes on around my body. It felt lonely. "Unilateral," "overt force," "evil" — what do these things mean, really? But the interaction between two people's bodies, the meaning of that is right there in the action. We're all ghosts, and these bodies are like our pads of paper or our bullhorns.
So, in an attempt to understand what this new war has meant to people's lives, in this country and others, I thought someone should ask them about the sex they've been having since that first airplane crashed into the World Trade Center. I was surprised (and maybe a little jealous) at
what some of them reported — the solace found and the big, unique orgasms. As for me, I felt physically useless and uninterested in sex for ten days straight.
Erik Swanson
Maine
I broke up with my girlfriend. This tragedy made me realize what a self-centered jerk she is. The Globe had an article on post-traumatic stress disorder. It said that a common response when we feel threatened is to create enemies. It makes me think I'm wrong, I should love her and
understand her. Realize that nobody's perfect. I'm not perfect. The first day, it was worry, protect, hold. We had sex almost the whole time. But when I got the call about Ann Marie's death it all changed. Clearly, my girlfriend considered this death a hassle. On Thursday night I went to her house, partly because she has cable, partly because I needed to be close with someone. I was utterly exhausted. I would react negatively to something on the news and she would respond with "What
do you expect?" Well, Ms. know-it-all, nobody expected this. She was getting
ready to go out to the bar, and expected me to accompany her. The next day I had to go to
Ann Marie's funeral. I was so angry at her I couldn't see. I want to burn every one of those American flags.
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©2001
Lisa Carver and Nerve.com, Inc.
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Commentarium (23 Comments)
Lisa your eyes look brown in that pic of you!
Lisa Carver is a national treasure. We should have FBI agents protecting her. Lisa- I want to fly your flag. She always makes me feel interested in life even if I'm not in the mood.
The photos obscure the writing.
totally inappropriate. You people suck....have some respect
IS: Have you ever had someone die who you were taking care of? Well this is that, on a different scale. How one communicates physically with the body close to theirs in the days following (or doesn't) says a lot about what they're feeling that they will probably never be able to SAY exactly. I think "appropriate" is a superfluous word at this point. As Winston Churchill said about theater, restaurants, and other amusements (when an aide suggested closing them to save money during the war): "My god man, what do you think we're fighting for?"
um...IS, YOU suck. go donate blood or something useful like that. I, for one was really actually comforted to hear people's physical, sexual, reactions to what happened. My body has been all whacked out and weird. It was nice to know that I'm not just a freak and that other people's bodies were reacting strangely too. Lisa, as well as lots of people in the public eye, have the difficult task of continuing with their jobs, as do most of us, but for them it is MORE difficult because of people like IS who don't have anything better to do but pick apart Lisa's attempts at making sense of this situation. Offering people a look into how others are feeling about what happened is NOT inappropriate. It is beautiful. get over yourself IS. kisses for lisa.
Are we changing the picture every day?
oh i just read what i wrote and it appears as though i "did it to myself" RIGHT after the attack. that isn't true. i don't remember when it was...that night? the next day and night etc...i'm by far a prude but that did NOT get me off or anything. ugh. now i feel kind of sick. i think i'm the only person who lost their virginity last, really got into sex for years and now it doesn't do a thing for me unless i'm IN love." we can fuck forever" but love is something else. did i just ruin it? good!
This is the most pathetic, pitiful boring excuse for a column ever. Please, please, please, Nerve editors; haven't we had enough misery since Sept. 11? Send Lisa into retirement where she belongs. She has been failing the reader for just too long now.
NM you curmudgeonly poor excuse for a failed writer yourself. enough of your blather, get back to focusing on your miserable job which you despise in the city where you belong.
Actually, no initials, I'm a therapist south of 14th. st. in the war zone in NYC. How about a little slack for those in the trenches. I couldn't love my job more. I am so grateful.
big whoop nm, we are all in the trenches. telling lisa to can it is uncalled for and rude. i guess you took the time out of your trench to be a critic and now you want sympathy? Pathetic.
oh yeah to elaborate, I live in Soho. Last time I checked that was further down than 14th. All my fish are dead & food rotten. But you don't see me begging to nerve editors to fire someone great! Jesus, shut the fuck up already!
My best gay friend in NYC said he was constantly horny and guys all over town were cruising and picking each other up. I'm glad someone is paying attention to this because neither of us has seen anything else about the phenomenon.
lol, Bill, I think since NYC started gay boys have been cruising like wildfire-- I can't even imagine a greater frequency than before the tragedy.
Jim
People...we all deal with the fact that we're alive and some aren't in different ways. My sister got off the subway at Canal just after the first plane hit, on her way to building 3. Thank God she was late. In Ohio, I stepped outside to the roar of an F-15 chasing the plane that turned over us somewhere and crashed in Pa. Five hundred miles apart, and hardly seperated at all, we all felt it very deeply. But sometimes, we just have to remain 'there' for each other. We have to put one foot in front of the other and let time...and some sense of 'normalcy' set in to do their jobs. That's why we still read Nerve. That's why we look for Lisa, among other things, just to hold onto. There are fears and holes in us all. They need to be filled. In something like this, most everything can seem trite and self-involved. Its not. Steady on. You too, Lisa. The bigger issues are beyond us to solve. Lisa deals with how we feel. Some of us love having her here her and hope in some small way, she needs us, too. Everyone posting on here is alive. So is my sister. Take a deep breath and embrace someone you love.
in a similar situation to an earlier post, i'd been dating someone for a week or so and was just waiting for an excuse to get with him. it was two days after the attack and i really, really wanted sex. we were making out on my bed and i said "i think under the circumstances we should have sex." he brought up grease II (let's do it for our country), and we laughed. only it was pretty lame sex--first time, very short. as much as i wanted an orgasm (which i didn't end up getting), i really just wanted to sleep with a person that night, instead of the cats. he left (!) citing work the next day, alternate side parking, whatever. i even tried to convince him not to leave, to no avail. he said, "is this bad that i'm leaving?" "yes, Einstein," I replied. there was a huge scary thunderstorm right after he left--thunderstorms never scare me, but this one was horrifying. that motherfucker wasn't good enough to rectify his poor performance that same night or the next morning, which he could've easily done. I guess if a plan is going to backfire, it backfire dramatically. cats rule.
The "fight or flight" syndrome prevents the normal eroticism through which most persons experience sex with each other. The emptiness in our hearts and the sense of loss we feel for others with whom we can empathize numbs us to the desperate need most of us have for a personal connection. Having someone with whom you are already close and familiar can restore a sense of reckoning that you each exist and can pour into each other the pain of loss that is gathered encircling the heart provided that person also feels the sense of loss significantly. It is a sharing of sorrow in an intimate manner that allows the release for both, and allows the fresh resolve of hope to displace the sorrow. This natural, sacred process is rarely within the realm of eroticism we normally encounter but is rooted in the hearts and souls of the individuals who both feel the loss and commit to each other to celebrate the life of each other in the need to verify the soul, recognizing its empathy and compassion, it's ability to feel another. It is a godly gift, is meant to be shared, and meant to be honored so that life itself becomes the focus of reality. Grief is the method the body has leave itself open to the vulnerability of life and one trusted to care for that life. All that is felt is the need for each other.
Dear Lisa:
Since my own writng has appeared in Glamour, Working Women, etc., hopefully you will give this compliment more credence.
What a brillant idea to ask nerve people how the New York Terrorist Attack had affected their sex lives. I am impressed and a little jealious you thought of it first. Sell it to a Women's Magazine and make some real cash. You are brillant. If you ever visit LA you have a cocktail and snack waiting for you, my treat, no strings. Oh the only thing missing was the Nerve addresses, of any folks in your article who have Nerve Personal ads.
You rock my dear. Feel free to say howdy to me at baniteowl@hotmail.com. Again good for you, you are a smart, writer. Best, Bruce P.S. I dropped out of college too!
Actually Emma of Em&Lo suggested it, but thanks!
You all have heard the stories of people getting married, or dropping their divorce suits in the wake of this tragedy. I know of at least five couples who broke up since September 11. These are people who had been committed to each other for periods of six months to several years.
Every day, it seemed, a friend would call me in tears. "Last week he was talking about getting married. Now he says it's over, no discussion." Lots of that. What is it? Does it make us reconsider who it is we want comforting us in such a shitty time? Or is it, "The world's going to end tomorrow, and I want the freedom to fuck as many people as I can..."
I remember growing up under the shadow of the Cold War. A guy behind me in history class said, "When they tell us the missiles are headed our way, I just want to get everyone I know together for one big messy orgy. So whoever survives will find all our bones stuck together."
Something about that really makes sense. Just grab hold of everyone and go at it. Intimacy and release and community bonding!
There's something about this that's too big for many of us to put our arms around. Somebody else here wrote that this kind of stuff causes us to create enemies. Or we just push away because of our fears of letting emotions overwhelm us.
Just when I thought the wave of breakups was over, my own new relationship hit the skids. Out of the blue. He said there wasn't enough passion lately. Since when, I asked? Past few weeks.
There's probably more to the lack of passion than the effects of the tragedy. We're trying to work it out, because everything else is wonderful. But when you're forced to look at your life and how people relate on an intimate or worldwide scale, sometimes your mind and heart are too occupied to think up new games involving plaid skirts and sex toys. Sometimes we're too caught up in our own thoughts and fears to remain open to our partners. For us, I think, intimacy is going to take the form of communication before we get back to our old "let's do it in the park" hijinks.
good god,i sit and watch tv in the morning while i surf the net.it used to be that i would watch the financial news but things being as they are i have moved down the dial to bet music.on september 11,2001,i had the headline news scrolling to bring me up to date on world affairs before switching to new releases that might be hot in the club where i work.the email had little personal for so i popped into a fave porn site for flavor and diversion.this is the time i noticed the first tower burning,and turned the sound up on the telivision to match the slow download of flesh and gratuitous pleasure moans.just as the disembodied voice said "there is some quiet speculation and mention of acts of terrorism"WHAM!the second plane hit.holy shit.the porn played on and the towers burned.there were peole flying to the pavement and the porn played on.my sex life included the confligration and destruction.the end of an american eigenstat flew into my screen next to captured video,prerecorded porn.i didn't stop and neither did the day.the pentagon reported a bomb explosion and then a plane attack,my parents live ten miles away{where they never have sex anymore]and the movies of people in coitus rolled onto my computer.they say the band on the titanic played on and ofcoarse i feel like most of us will to.an early fantasy of mine is to be trapped somewhere with someone desirable,so they would desire me{or at least have little choice}.where is the difference.i am seeing more sexual action in the clubs now and it is a new excuse to hook up and terrorism has not only failed to slow down attraction it has become part of the sex myth.
i want to have yer bebby.
mike gilmore
texas
gilmorem@mail.mcm.edu
tell miguel i said hi!
Now you say something