#cinesexual

[cinesexual]

from A Fox in the Night, directed by Keeran Anwar Blessie, UK, 2022

[rickpowellwriter]

On his way to London with a box full of pounds yet Eddie is still a fuckin’ sad sack.

Dating Amber d. David Freyne Ireland, 2020

[longdistancekissing]

. Let’s not disappoint each other. #longdistancekissing #longdistancerelationship #kiss #kissing #artimitateslife #artislife #vintage #cinesexual #cinesexualsapien #cinema #film #filmnoir #filmquotes (at Darlinghurst, New South Wales) https://www.instagram.com/p/BwzFiEPFy2G/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=eakah5zrzqx8

[the-cinesexual]

[sof4foreva]

[pansexual-pied-piper]

I thought I would share this with people bc it's goddamn hilarious. It's from the AIDS Project Newsletter (1988), the entire thing can be found here:

https://digitalcommons.usm.maine.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1013&context=aids_newsletter

(Excuse the ugly link, I'm on mobile. Also shoutout to @posi-pan whom I stole the link off of and whose blog y'all should check out.)

A SEXUAL GLOSSARY By Diane White

Sexuality seems to get more and more confusing every day. There's the Boy George look, Michael Jackson as Peter Pan, Annie Lennox as him/herself, actors playing women, actresses playing men, bi's, trannies, androgynes, one-sex-fits-all.

Where will it all end? It probably never will. Meanwhile, here's a short glossary to help those who may be bewildered by the new trends and terms.

Ambisexual: Someone who is sexual on both the right and the left sides.

Antisexual: One who is militantly opposed to sex in any form.

A-sexual: Better than B-sexual or C-sexual. The highest grade.

Autosexual: (a) A person who wants himself all to himself, or (b) someone drawn to cars.

Bisexual: A person who engages in sexual activity once every two years. (See "semisexual" for comparison.)

Cinesexual: One who is addicted to sex in movies.

Circumsexual: (a) A person who is sexual on all sides, or (b) someone who likes to give others the runaround.

Disexual: A passionate admirer of the Princess of Wales.

Exsexual: Someone who engages in sex with a former spouse.

Extrasexual: (a) Somebody extremely sexy, or (b) a person who has a fling with a being from outer space, then sells his or her story to the National Enquirer.

Hypersexual: One who exaggerates his or her experience.

Hypnosexual: Someone who puts his or her partner to sleep. (Compare to "narcosexual")

Insexual: The opposite of outsexual, used to describe anything that's fashionable at the moment, such as androgyny.

Maxisexual: Popular leading man in countless X-rated movies.

Megasexual: Elephants. Whales too. And hippopotamuses.

Minisexual: What turns Mickey on.

Narcosexual: A person who falls asleep during sex.

Nonsexual: Someone who never says "Oui"

Omnisexual: People who are excited by back copies of Omni magazine.

Pansexual: Someone who emulates Michael Jackson.

Parasexual: (a) One who is qualified to advise about sex but not to engage in it, or (b) someone who engages in sex while (1) sky-diving or (2) holding a small umbrella to ward off the sun.

Phonosexual: A person who likes to talk about it on the telephone, preferably long-distance.

Pixisexual: One who is fond of elves. Polysexual: One who is turned on by manmade fibers.

Prosexual: (a) Someone in favor of sex, or (b) a classification (compared, for example, to "semiprosexual).

Protosexual: Pertaining to sexual etiquette.

Pseudosexual: A person who pretends to be interested in sex but isn't.

Quasisexual: (a) Something resembling sex, or (b) a person who's all talk.

Resexual: Somebody who's middle-age crazy.

Retrosexual: Someone who fantasizes about sex during the 50's.

Semisexual: One who engages in sex twice a year.

Stereosexual: A person who insists on wearing his Sony Walkman at all times.

Subsexual: (a) Sex involving small cars, or (b) what Robert Mitchum was in "The Enemy Below".

Synsexual: Something you shouldn't be doing.

Tautosexual: Pertaining to the pointless repetition of sex.

Trisexual: A person with whom sex is a trying experience.

[slaaneshfic]

Proposal: There is no reason for you to live: assimilation, disintegration, and affect in queer horror games

I feel like its been a long time since writing one of these. it hasn’t, but it was really hard getting my head back into it after writing my annual progression document (which i will post after this. its a monster). I think thats why this is so messy, and has so many footnotes (I even double pasted the bibliography in the doc i submitted. ugh just kill me now)

Title: There is no reason for you to live: assimilation, disintegration, and affect in queer horror games

Abstract: This paper examines the ways in which instability and affect are deployed in queer horror video games, the relationship of these tactics to post-structuralist, feminist, and queer theories of gender, and speculates on how play, horror, and instability can further our idea of gender and kinship.

The relationship between the overwhelming experience of seeing too much, and the restricted tension of not being able to see enough is important to our experience of horror. Philosopher Eugene Thacker goes as far as to propose that the “horror genre is really defined in the space between these two poles, in the passages between them” (Thacker, 2015). Horror can be understood as not just witnessing bodies changing and collapsing, but as witnessing and negotiating our perceptions doing the same. In this paper, I argue that such slippery encounters are pushed further in queer horror games, and that these radically destabilise power structures around gender and sexuality through their potential to prevelige queer desire, different bodies, and different experiences. Queer horror games reconfigure the ethics of the dominant power, transforming the player’s relation to abjection, intimacy, and stability.

Philosopher Patricia MacCormack identifies in this active, emotive, speculative, experience of horror, the becoming “Ahuman” which is the ecstatic encounter with an “asignified world” (MacCormack, 2012). In this paper I pursue the ways in which the Ahuman can be understood within three recent video games which could broadly be labeled as “queer horror”. The video games in question are: “No World Dreamers Sticky Zeitgeist: Episode 2: Aperitif”, “Soma”, and “The MISSING: J.J. Macfield and the Island of Memories”, (Heartscape & Rook, 2018; Hedberg, 2015; Suehiro, 2018).

Drawing on the writing of philosophers Rosi Braidotti and Gilles Deleuze, and psychoanalysts Felix Guattari and Luce Irigaray, I examine how collapsing bodies, unstable landscapes, and overwhelming sensation perform at different levels of the audience encounter with these three games (Braidotti, 1994; Deleuze, 1986; Deleuze & Guattari, 1983, 1987, 1994; Guattari, 1995, 2005, 2011; Irigaray, 1993).

This instability of bodies within the games, and the instability of our encounters with the games themselves, are finally extracted from game design to be considered in terms of contemporary queer, post human feminist theory (Adams, 2018; Goard, 2017; Hedva, 2016; Hester, 2018; Ireland, 2017; Kirksey, 2018; Winters, 2016).

Bibliography:

Adams, M. (2018, October 18). ‘What Keeps You Alive’ – an era of hope for queer horror. Retrieved 2 November 2018, from https://genderterror.com/2018/10/18/what-keeps-you-alive-an-era-of-hope-for-queer-horror/

Braidotti, R. (1994). Of Bugs and Women: Irigaray and Deleuze on the Becoming-Woman. In C. Burke, N. Shor, & M. Whitford (Eds.), Engaging with Irigaray: Feminist Philosophy and Modern European Thought. New York: Columbia University Press, New York.

Deleuze, G. (1986). Cinema. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota.

Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (1983). Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (1987). A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (1994). What is philosophy? New York: Columbia University Press.

Goard, S. (2017, December 8). Making and Getting Made: Towards a Cyborg Transfeminism | Salvage. Retrieved 31 December 2017, from http://salvage.zone/in-print/making-and-getting-made-towards-a-cyborg-transfeminism/?utm_content=buffer05aec&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter.com&utm_campaign=buffer

Grosz, E. (1993). A thousand tiny sexes: Feminism and rhizomatics. Topoi, 12(2), 167–179. https://doi.org/10.1007/BF00821854

Guattari, F. (1995). Chaosmosis: an ethico-aesthetic paradigm. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Guattari, F. (2005). The Three Ecologies. London ; New York: Continuum.

Guattari, F. (2011). The machinic unconscious: essays in schizoanalysis. Los Angeles, CA : Cambridge, Mass: Semiotext(e) ; Distributed by the MIT Press.

Heartscape, P. C., & Rook. (2018). No World Dreamers Sticky Zeitgeist: Episode 2: Aperitif [Windows].

Hedberg, M. (2015). Soma. Frictional Games. Retrieved from http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3255592/

Hedva, J. (2016). Sick Woman Theory. Retrieved 26 November 2018, from http://www.maskmagazine.com/not-again/struggle/sick-woman-theory

Hester, H. (2018). Xenofeminism. Cambridge, UK Medford, MA: Polity.

Ireland, A. (2017, March). Black Circuit: Code for the Numbers to Come - Journal #80 March 2017 - e-flux. Retrieved 1 October 2018, from https://www.e-flux.com/journal/80/100016/black-circuit-code-for-the-numbers-to-come/

Irigaray, L. (1993). An Ethics of Sexual Difference. Cornell University Press.

Kirksey, E. (2018). Queer Love, Gender Bending Bacteria, and Life after the Anthropocene. Theory, Culture & Society, 026327641876999. https://doi.org/10.1177/0263276418769995

MacCormack, P. (2008). Cinesexuality. Aldershot, England ; Burlington, VT: Ashgate.

MacCormack, P. (2010a). Lovecraft through Deleuzio-Guattarian Gates (Vol. 20). https://doi.org/10.1353/pmc.2010.0008

MacCormack, P. (2010b). Mucous, Monsters and Angels: Irigaray and Zulawski’s Possession. Cinema: Journal of Philosophy and the Moving Image, 1, 95–110.

MacCormack, P. (2012). Posthuman ethics: embodiment and cultural theory. Farnham, Surrey, England ; Burlington, VT: Ashgate.

MacCormack, P. (2016). Lovecaft’s Cosmic Ethics. In R. Campbell (Ed.), The Age of Lovecraft (pp. 199–214). University of Minnesota Press. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5749/j.ctt1b9x1f3.15

O’Sullivan, S. (2001). THE AESTHETICS OF AFFECT: Thinking art beyond representation. Angelaki, 6(3), 125–135. https://doi.org/10.1080/09697250120087987

Thacker, E. (2015). Tentacles longer than night. Charlotte, NC: John Hunt Pub.

Winters, B. (2016, July 11). On The Recuperative Power of Interactive Horror. Retrieved 5 February 2018, from https://deorbital.media/on-the-recuperative-power-of-interactive-horror-eb6fcb9a47dd

[charlotteloveandfilm-blog]

Call Me By Your Name

Ah, Call Me By Your Name (dir. Luca Guadagnino, 2017). I love it more and more every time I watch it. I know it is not perfect—the readings for this week definitely do their part in reminding me of that—but nevertheless, there is something about it that I find so effective as well as affecting. It is one of only two movies I’ve seen that makes me cry every time I watch it.

My favorite of the readings for the week was Miles Rufelds’ article “But Seeing Through Whose Eyes: Call Me By Your Name and the Mechanisms of Love and Fantasy.” The piece acknowledges the criticism calling Call Me By Your Name a “tone-deaf parade of bourgeois privilege” (1) and parries it in a way that I find compelling: the film’s exterior is a beautiful vessel for an underlying argument about cinema and the dangers of fantasy.

Obviously, the film is stunning—so stunning that it can sometimes feel “fake” in a way that other films do not. Rufelds discusses how, by taking the world itself as its medium, film can make the real world fictional and, in turn, fictionalize the real world. The characters spend their time in a setting that, to most people, feels profoundly unreal: a neverland, an Eden. To linger on this point for a moment, at the risk of going off on a tangent, I want to talk about some of the underlying religious themes that permeate the film. It is set in a kind of contemporary Eden. These people do not have to toil for their food—it is provided for them. There is no work to speak of, just play. And, of course, there is an abundance of fruit. One fruit in particular is key: the peach. The choice of the peach is an interesting one. It was probably chosen in part for its looks, in part for its season, and in part for its symbolic value. In the Chinese tradition, peaches symbolize immortality or eternal youth. Among these characters, there is undeniably a hope for immortality, a hope to remain frozen in time. And, ironically, they will! This film is immortal. It immortalizes these people in this moment. But, that said, within the narrative of the film, nothing can last. As mentioned in the article, while there is no antagonist, the real antagonist is time. This summer will come to an end and Oliver will have to leave. Elio, being a great lover of fiction, wants his life fictionalized—and, as the narrator of the book, he does fictionalize his life. In that famed scene in which he masturbates with a peach, he is expressing a desire for something beyond the body—for a love that transcends the body. The body will age, the body will die, the body will leave. At the risk of putting too fine a point on this, the peach is essentially a Platonic Form. It exists as a form of the immortal, the perfect, the unending, the fecund, the lush—it encapsulates all the desires explicit in the film—desires that Elio possesses. It is an interesting mix of the top of the ladder and the bottom, this attempt to partner sexually with what is essentially a Form. This probably has to do with Elio as a character being at once old and young. He expresses this on his walk around the monument with Oliver. Elio explains the significance of the monument—it’s from World War I, meaning that, according to Elio, “You’d have to be at least eighty years old to have known any of them.” Oliver asks, “Is there anything you don’t know?” Elio responds, “I know nothing, Oliver…if you only knew how little I know about the things that matter.” Elio is an old soul. He is well-read, well-educated, but at the end of the day he is still just a kid. It is this combination of intellectual maturity and physical and emotional immaturity that leads to Elio’s lovemaking with a peach. He is grasping at something more than the physical, but does not yet know how to access it except through the physical.

But, of course, this fantasy, this desire, for the immortal cannot ever be captured. Even though you could argue that the film celebrates materialism and consumerism, you would be ignoring the film’s conclusion. Yes, Elio has all these beautiful things, but at the end of the day, he still ends up heartbroken. He cannot have the one thing (or person, rather) that he really wants. In the absence of love, material objects are stale. They are unfulfilling. It might seem cheesy, but I think a lot of people still hold the belief that, with enough money, anyone can be happy, when in reality, it is far from that simple. This brings us back to Rufelds’ argument that Call Me By Your Name is really about dismantling the fantasy of cinema. Elio, as stated, is a person raised on fiction and on fantasy, and thus projects elements of fantasy onto his own life. By the end of the film, he is forced to face the reality that real life is not fiction. It is not literature, it is not cinema. This relates to the idea Rufelds mentions of “cinesexuality,” the desiring of cinema as a lover—cinema is picture-perfect and immortal. To bring us back around to the “Form” of the peach, cinema is another representation of that which does not die or change. Rufelds posits that Oliver is a stand in for cinema as a whole, and that by the end of the film, when we watch from the fireplace as Elio cries, we are witnessing the death of cinema—the camera is literally set in the fire. I’m fascinated by this idea, that the film is a work of fiction about dismantling the fantasies of works of fiction.

To wrap up, Call Me By Your Name is far more complex than a simple touting of bourgeois ideals. I think anyone who attempts to boil this film down to something that simple and cynical is missing the point. While it does depict a bourgeois ideal, it does so in the service of something larger—in service of a nuanced message that forces its audience to question the fantasy worlds cinema dangles in front of them.

[queerflixdotnet]

Thanks The Cinesexual for following https://t.co/XVOZ9Ev3uK

Thanks The Cinesexual for following https://t.co/XVOZ9Ev3uK

— gayvideoentertainment (@gayvideoentert1) April 5, 2019

from Twitter https://twitter.com/gayvideoentert1

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