They want me"
The White Goddess Syndrome and Delusions of Grandeur
Beyond the White Goddess Archetype of Jung
or Robert Graves
(a Historical Grammar of Poetic Myth)
what we talking is closer to Eldridge Cleaver
Black skin is thick and lush, sensuous to the touch, like satin and velvet made flesh. There's only one patch of skin on a white man's body that remotely compares to nearly every inch of a black man's skin. The first time I caressed black skin, it felt like a luxury I shouldn't be able to afford. I craved it more strongly than Carrie Bradshaw [Sarah Jessica Parker, Sex and the City] craved Manolo Blahnik stilettos. See satire on stilettos. That phrase, "Once you go black, you never go back" is all about the feeling of the skin. And I had the socially acceptable explanation for my craving. I used that paucity-of-available-white-partners rationale to explain my relationships with black men for several years. A white woman past forty is often passed over by her white-male contemporaries. She goes younger or ethnic or foreign-born or down the socioeconomic scale or darker or she spends lonely nights at home with her cats. Black men are happy to get the babe they couldn't have when she was twentysomething and fertile. The laws of the marketplace do prevail. It's not me, it's them—them being the white guys who weren't after me anymore, or so I claimed. That's a lie. The truth is, I attract about the same percentage of available white men my age (and far younger!) now as I did when I was thirty—and that's not including the unavailable white men who want to play around anyway. Enough white men want me that I was hardly facing enforced celibacy, but I don't want them. I want black men. They want me. We look at one another and exchange a visible frisson of sexual energy in the lingering glances. And our attraction is based first on race. We are not those couples who "happen to fall in love" with someone of a different race or more purposefully come together but out of some greater sense of interracial understanding and respect. Not as politically-correct men and women do we seek one another out. The Internet has made it a lot easier for us to find each other now. Men advertise: ebony seeks ivory. Women write: seeking tall, dark, and handsome. Very dark. We are not the same people who say: Race is not important. It is important to us. We have race-specific desires. Even in a time when nearly 40 percent of single Americans have dated outside their race, that deliberate seeking of the specific other makes some people, especially black women, damned mad.
I want black men. They want me. We look at one another and exchange a visible frisson of sexual energy in the lingering glances.
According to one school of thought, white women turn to black men when their sex drives kick into higher gear and their social inhibitions recede into the rearview mirror.
Black men have more energy, style and edge than white men. They know how to flirt, a nearly lost art among the rest of us. A black man is so damned sexy because he knows how to make a woman feel sexy.
Black men have something white guys don't have anymore: confidence in their masculinity, their sexuality. They clearly know they're men.
Yet black men are gentlemen, something else white men no longer are. They make me feel like a woman, both respected and desired. I can let go of my inhibitions, my need to control, when I am with them.
[Black Men] look better than white men, they touch and kiss and make love better than white men.
The first time I caressed black skin, it felt like a luxury I shouldn't be able to afford. I craved it more strongly than Carrie Bradshaw craved Manolo Blahnik stilettos.
See the sexual worship of the Negro
| Brenda Schaeffer writes about the benefits of Love: Like food, it nourishes us and others. In fact, love is the most cost-effective medical insurance policy and the cheapest medicine there is. And there is no end to its supply. It has been proven to strengthen the immune system, increase life expectancy, reduce deptression, produce zestful children, and induce feelings of calm, safety, and trust. |
size is the real power of the black-man fantasy .... [The white woman wants] to feel more, to have more novelty and experience under her belt, thanks to the life-enhancing mystical cock and promise of the sexy black man .... In fantasy, the 'big' black man promises to take us to that final exploration of sex, the most absolute orgasmic time it is humanly possible to experience. And then, forever after, at least we'll have known what 'it' is 'all about.' [ibid. 171-72.]For white man it seems like a brooding torment deep in his bones. He has a gnawing guilt, a "certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation" [Hebrews 10: 27]. He expects wrath, just has he deserves the contempt of his wife. Genet wrote something about the ecstasy of betrayal. Whiteman's salvation must come from choosing to accept responsibility for his crimes against black man, and his crimes against his "own" woman.
My current lover, a handsome businessman, seduced me via eye contact at a neighborhood bar while I was eating burgers with a friend. Without saying a word, he paid the compliments, asked the questions with his expressive eyes. He didn't move over to sit beside me and ask if he could buy me a drink until he knew the time was right. Both soft-spoken and assertive, he has impeccable manners and charm. I was kissing him in a cab 30 minutes after that drink.In the next breath, Ms. Bakos added:
On another night in that same bar, a different black man, an artist, knelt and kissed my knees.It would appear that Ms. Bakos attracts men, not because she's white but moreso because she is loose. In the black community she would be considered a slut and in the white community, poor trash. She speaks of her current "lover." How long does a 40+ year old woman plan to be a lover? Why not a wife?
| Marie Robinson buys into the Victorian notion (made famous by Freud and his early female followers) that the primary sexual attribute of femininity was submission and masochism. For more, see Marie Robinson. Might not this idea help demystify some of the attraction for "superlative" black man? Might this not help shed light on black man's legendary phallic MO JO, his indefinable black magic, his superior sexuality, the masculine potency of his black swamp root MYTH? That old American fairy tale in which the one REAL aphrodisiac is the black AFRO-disiac. Nancy Friday goes so far as to reveal that, "Whenever I read of a white woman yelling 'Rape!' I half suspect her cry was more an accusation of disappointment than a protest against her black assailant." From My Secret Garden: Women's Sexual Fantasies (1973) Why do white men love interracial porn? Robert Jensen in his study of the pornography plague sweeping America and Europe was shocked by the prevalence of interracial porn, much of it infused with violence or cruelty. Jensen writes: the director of the Black Attack Gang Bang line of films explains: "My mission is to find the cutest white honeys to get Gang Banged by some hard pipe hitting niggas straight outta Compton." In Gore Vidal's Myra Breckinridge, the narrator describes his own awareness of white guys fear of the Negro phallus, and their inadvertent clinching of their sphincter upon the approach of a gorgeous-looking (or simply well-hung) black guy. |
 | Alev Croutier calls the white goddess of birth, love and death the earliest known diety. She identifies the white goddess with the worship of the moon (all phases), as well as such classic goddesses as Isis, Ishtar, Artemis, etc |
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