Posts Tagged ‘The History of Sexuality’

The deepest darkest dirty you

December 16, 2017

The confession became one of the West’s most highly valued techniques for producing truth. We have since become a singularly confessing society. The confession has spread its effects far and wide. It plays a part in justice, medicine, education, family relationships, and love relations, in the most ordinary affairs of everyday life, and in the most solemn rites; one confesses one’s crimes, one’s sins, one’s thoughts and desires, one’s illnesses and troubles; one goes about telling, with greatest precision, whatever is most difficult to tell. One confesses in public and private, to one’s parents, one’s educators, one’s doctor, to those one loves; one admits to oneself, in pleasure and in pain, things that would be impossible to tell anyone else, the things people write books about. One confesses — or is forced to confess.
Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality, Volume One

We have the right to know what’s true
The deepest darkest dirty you
And all those nasty things you do

Every word you ever said
Every thought that’s in your head
And everything you do in bed

We’re everywhere — you won’t get far
You have to tell us who you are
The ugly, wicked, and bizarre

We goad, we taunt, we tease, we hound
We build you up — we tear you down
We have the right to watch you drown

We pillage hearts and ransack souls
We seek salvation in your skull
And pray your blood will make us whole

by Richard W. Bray

Admit It

February 8, 2017


Since the Middle Ages at least, Western societies have established the confession as one of the main rituals we rely on for the production of truth
Michel Foucault

The public has a right to know
Whatever’s hiding in your soul
Don’t cheat the mob; don’t hurt your health
And please don’t keep it to yourself

Admit it
You did it
For all those years
You hid it
You’re holding out
Just quit it

Tell a teacher, tell a priest
Tell a shrink or call police
Tell a doctor, tell a nun
Let everybody share the fun

Reduce your stress
And just confess
We need to blame
We need to bless
Don’t make us beg
Don’t make us guess

by Richard W. Bray