The Importance of Being Ernestine or You're STILL Wrong, Mykel's February 2022 Blog

 

The Importance of Being Ernestine
or You're STILL Wrong,
Mykel's February 2022 Blog

 

The Importance of Being Ernestine

or You're STILL Wrong,

Mykel's February 2022 Blog

by Mykel Board

Emotionalism, irrationality, softness and weakness are more symptoms of a man's own feminine side than they are characteristics of women.  – Robert A. Johnson

A man does not learn very well. Women, yes, because they are used to bending with whatever wind comes along. A woman, no matter the age, is always learning, always becoming. But a man stops learning at fourteen or so. He shuts it all down. A log is capable of learning more than a man. – Edward P Jones

Old women who go around thinking sensible thoughts should be apprehended with bear traps. – Daniel Kharms

Those who know me know I have a special effect on women. After some time with me, women cut me off like a moyl with a foreskin… no contact with me again… ever… telling my friends to hate me… blocking me on facebook… sending my email directly to the spambox… walking out of any room I walk in to. 

Maybe it’d be wrong to say there’s a legion of twatted Mykel-haters, but it would be fair to say there are enough female Mykel-100%-avoiders to arm the Ukrainians for the 21st century. 

But wait! There’s more! Women who don’t ditch me like facebook ditches the politically incorrect… become lesbians. It’s my Midas touch. I change them. 

My sister, Gayl, says it comes from “the type of girl you like.” She may have a point. I didn’t name the second ARTLESS album Boy With A Cunt because I like handkerchief-dropping, gown-wearing, lip-pouters.

“If you like butch tough-girls who can beat you up,” Gayl tells me, “you’re gonna find a few lesbos in the woodpile.”

SWITCH GEARS: Blessed are you, Lord, our God, ruler of the universe who has not made me a woman. This is a rather notorious prayer that traditional Jewish men say every morning, striking their chests. It’s been the cause of much discussion, and much anti-Jewitude. I ask my rabbi about it. 

“That prayer is an acknowledgment of the pain of childbirth,” says the rabbi. “In order to bring us into the world, women have to suffer in a way men cannot imagine. It is through their pain that women keep humanity in the world. We need to give thanks to G-d for both that we, as men, don’t have to suffer that pain. And that there are women who DO suffer that pain so we can live.”

Until then, it seemed to me that giving birth was nothing more than taking a huge constipated shit through your muff. Push… push… push… spew it out. It hurts a bit… then… maybe a pussy fart… Then... aaaaah, it feels so good. That’s it. Until that rabbinical moment, I never thought of it as anything more. 

BANG! What a change! One of of the many strikes of satori that makes me glad for the rabbis in this world. All that suffering that mom went through just to make the world a better place for having my sister and me as part of it. Who wudda guessed?

FLASH TO NOW: I sit naked on the wood floor in my apartment. To my right lies a half roll of duct-tape and a knife. My crossed legs not as lotused as they used to be. I steady my breath… feel the air come into my lungs through my nose... leave through my mouth. 

I focus my mind between my legs… yes, my mind is often focused there, but now I have a goal. I want to feel the world like a woman feels it. 

After a couple minutes of breathing, I pull my belly inwards… toward my spine…. tightening the muscles between anus and gonads… trying to pull the twin cullions… up… back into my body… back to their ancestral home… pre-pubescent. 

I can’t do it. They just lay there like a couple of oversized boyscout beans in a hairy bag of skin. I reach between my legs to give them a boost… a nudge… a push… Ouch! That hurts… but I got one in there… just gone… Now the other… this one easier… right next to its twin... somewhere inside me... near my appendix, I think. 

I shift my weight… slowly… making sure I avoid picking up splinters… or being stabbed by a 40-year old flooring nail, loosening from its own ancestral home. Yes! Yes! I did it!

Now to take care of the half pickle… the Vienna sausage… barely visible... afraid to show itself after the disappearance of its siblings. 

With my right hand I hold the base… pushing inward with the thumb of my left hand… uh… uh… uh… There it goes... inside… all the way! With my left hand, I hold the entire kit and caboodle inside me. My right hand grabs the duct-tape. Using my teeth, I pull out about a foot of tape. Still holding the end with my teeth, I use the knife to cut the tape from the roll. 

Quickly, I tape myself closed… shut the danglies inside… become WOMAN… at least half-way. I need lips. There’s all that flesh that just covers the prostate. I guess that’s how doctors make those lips when they do trans-surgery. Maybe I can get the feel just by moving the muscles right. 

It’s the in-between... the taint! Taint the asshole… taint the balls… The taint: where my lower lips should kiss the floor. 

Squeeze! Squeeze! Yes! I can do it. Yes! I can learn what it’s really like to have a hole in my body big enough for a human to spray out, wet, slimy, crying. Yes! I can take that huge shit and fall in love with it… bring that vaginal turd to my breast… suckle it… know the pain and Yes! know if there’s the post-natal joy that I see on all those diaper commercials. 

Yes! Yes! …..     No!

I can’t do it. My testicles squeal like trapped mice begging to be released. My limp gherkin leaks into the duct tape. 

No! I can’t do it. I’ll never know the pain that I’m supposed to thank God for not giving me. No! I’ll never experience more than the anal analogy of taking a shit. No! I’ve failed. 

I know. I know. I hear it every day. “You want to be a girl? Be a girl! Those chicks-with-dicks magazines by your bed! You could be one if you want! You’ve got the equipment… sort of.”

I press my palms against the side of my head. I don’t want to hear it. Don’t talk to me about effeminate men. I love them, but they are not women. There’s nothing feminine about them. The swish… the limp wrist… the eye-batting. Stiffens me right up, but it’s not LIKE A WOMAN. 

Once or twice in my life I’ve seen a real vaginated woman move like that. Hand on her hip… cigarette between index and middle finger… pouty sneer. She did not look feminine… she looked like a gay man… a man in drag… a femmy male homosexual. A woman screaming in the pain of childbirth… now SHE looks feminine. 

Soooo… I don’t get it. I don’t get why I make girls into forever Mykel-haters or forever lesbians. I don’t get why they call boys who move in a certain way or have a certain breathiness “feminine.” I have to accept the failure…  Know that sometimes rabbis have answers that scientists don’t. Know that some questions will never be answered.

What has changed is that my mind has gone from I don’t understand women to I can never understand women. And until men start having babies, equality is impossible… and probably undesirable. In the meantime, I’ll strike my chest… and thank God. 

See you in hell,

Mykel Board

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me on facebook or by email at mykelboard@gmail.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available.  Send me an email with SUBSCRIBE in the subject line.  Back blogs and columns are at https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com]

-->Lick This Dept. The BBC reports that “a prototype lickable TV screen that people can taste has been invented… in Japan, of course. Taste-the-TV, works by spraying flavors onto a "hygienic film" which is then rolled over the screen. Viewers then are invited to lick it.

The inventor, Homei Miyashita of Meiji University, suggested it could be used to train cooks or sommeliers remotely, though I can think of other uses. 

Of course, Covid makes a nod in the initial sales pitch. "The goal is to make it possible for people to have the experience of something like eating at a restaurant on the other side of the world, even while staying at home," Miyashita told interviewers.

I hope it comes with smell.

-->Just because it’s The Post doesn’t mean it isn’t true dept: The NY Post reports: Canada’s federal government admitted to secretly surveilling its population’s movements during the COVID-19 lockdown by tracking 33 million phones. The Public Health Agency of Canada secretly tracked the devices to assess “the public’s responsiveness during lockdown measures.” 

Meanwhile, here in NYC, the city has TV ads urging people to download the Contact Tracing App. Yeah sure, I’m right on that one. You bet!

-->Prayer from the other side dept: I’ve been watching a lot of movies during the Covid isolation. One of the many great ones is THE MISANDRISTS, written and directed by my long-time pal Bruce LaBruce. It’s the story of a group of militant women who want to destroy all men and reproduce by cloning.

At the start of every day, the women pray. “Blessed be the goddess of all worlds that has not made me a man.” They’ll never know what it’s like.

See you in hell, redux,

MB

LINK TRADE DEPARTMENT:

I read that the search engines like lots of links... and it's also nice to support my friends and enemies in their blogs. So facebook me or email me if you have a blog, webpage or something else to connect to. I add you. You add me.

Here's a start:

Here’s Richard Goldberg: goldberg.wordpress.com

Poetry and humor fans will like Justin Martin in The Latency

And my friend Mike R has a nice site with recipe hits from the past! (He cooked for me once... great stuff.) Check out Yesterday's Recipes.

And here's one by a member of ANTI-SEEN... a tour diary of sorts.

Andy Shelton has an interesting blog here.

Savage Hippie is a guy who has been YouTubing for a long time. Our opinions largely overlap... but he complains that I'm a Communist. I'm not! I'm a communist.

Chris Stecher publishes a zine called PRECIS. You can see the back issue links there... and he promises a new issue soon.

George Fertakis has a very nice graphics-heavy blog... with music and books featured prominently. If there’s no link here (I can’t find it temporarily), then Google… er… Duckduckgo him for information.

And my long-term pal Sid Yiddish contributes with his Mishegas Master Blog.

And connect to TRUST Zine, a long-running German punk zine… that STILL PRINTS!!! Yeah, they have a website too… of course! It’s here.

Here are a couple video links.

This from Jon Cox https://squelchchamber1.bandcamp.com/album/down-so-low

And this one from my very long-time friend Roger Armstrong.

Jim Testa moved his long running zine, Jersey Beat, to the blogosphere awhile back. You can read it here. Jim also recommended a kind of unique album… in a style you don’t see to much of these days… or any days. Neo-Hassidic Rock Opera. You can stream the album here.

Kyle Nonneman is in prison in Portland. At least he can’t be kidnapped by the secret police… I think. I post his blog for him, he can’t do it from the klink. Lots of stuff about noise metal… and some very weird politics that will either fascinate or repulse you… or both.

My long time pal, Jim Hayes rightfully complained about my leaving out his blog. He’s a great writer, so it was a tragic omission. Here it is.

Oh yeah, then there’s me. I have a blog of stuff I’ve written mostly from last century. You might enjoy it. Then again, you might not. It’s here.

Let me know if you have a blog… or a print zine… or a YouTube and want to be added to the list. You show me yours… you’ve already seen mine. god@mykelboard.com