Capto Laqueum!


“And there were times when yeah, alright, I confess
I did things of which I am not proud.
Everybody wades through the same coloured shit,
But it doesn’t drag everyone down.

I was stupid I was insensitive
I was everything I promised I never would be.
I’ve seen a lot of foolish behaviour in my time,
But I tell ya’; they’ve got nothing on me!

David Ford

I don’t think I’m going to be able to write erotica with the theme of ‘shame’. At least not a short piece. Maybe if I were to take overcoming it as the theme for a novel that might give it the breathing space it deserves. But instead I’m going to talk metaphysics and breaking down the subject-object divide.

Yeah, that’s right, metaphysics, sexy times no?

First up a proposition, there are two selves. Two of you, two of me, two of everyone. There is the self that observes the universe (the first self) and the self that observes the self (the second self) with me so far?

The role of the second self is to act as a counterpoint to the first self. It’s sort of the Jimminy cricket, it holds us to account and acts as a reference point by which we can judge and define ourselves (a bit like a moral compass).

Shame, as we traditionally understand it, is an emotion, directed inwardly. That is, it can be seen as a verb, but it’s a verb where the subject and object are both the self. I feel ashamed of me. I am bothe the subject and object, which can get confusing. In the two selves model this is the second self shaming the first self. Which is by and large a good thing. I did something wrong, or something that conflicts with my idea of who I am, and I feel ashamed of this. Maybe next time I shouldn’t use the flame-thrower on those kittens.

Click the link to buy the t-shirt.

Because why wouldn’t there be a t-shirt for this? (Click the picture)

This is the useful kind of shame, the sort that makes us into empathetic, compassionate people in order to keep the first self and the second self in tune.

But you need to keep your second self safe. Because there are fuckers out there who will try to pretend to be your second self. They will don convincing costumes and familiar voices, using weasel words and manipulative tactics.

They will try to shame you, but they can’t, not if you know that they’re not you. They are not your second self, because your second self is right there beside you, telling you you’re doing great.

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