By Rebekah Maxwell – BarbWire guest contributor
This Week’s Sign the Apocalypse is Upon Us
Ah, love. The all-important height of emotion, the be-all and end-all of existence, the ultimate good in the universe.
Too bad we have no idea what it is.
That is, I know what love might mean to me, but I cannot define it for you. Neither can God, the law, or centuries of human social convention, apparently. That’s what being enlightened is all about.
To me, love might be a mother holding her baby close, or a man risking his life to save his wife from danger.
To you, love might be having sex with a dolphin.
But who am I to judge? It’s all the same love.
The latest segment of our brilliant love rainbow is the story of Malcolm Brenner, who because famous as the man who had sex with a dolphin. He has written a book about his “consensual sexual relationship” with a female dolphin called Dolly, who he considers the love of his life. He met her in 1970, at a Florida amusement park, when he was taking photographs for a children’s book.
The “critically-acclaimed, award-winning” short film, Dolphin Lover, details Brenner’s affair with Dolly in emetic detail (which I will spare less enlightened readers).
Brenner told Miami New Times he consented to have his story made into a film “when (filmmaker) Kareem said, ‘I believe you were in love with her.”
A “love” that (at least one party) cannot speak its name.
Brenner also reveals that he was physically and sexually abused as a young child by a so-called psychiatrist (who Brenner alleges molested hundreds of other children). He himself links his sexual attraction to animals with the trauma he experienced in his childhood.
But never let serious contemplation of a man’s perversion of sex get in the way of gawking at an even stranger, more sensationalized perversion of sex. Not when we can call it a love story.
The filmmakers intentionally chose not to interview psychologists, ethics experts, or even animal rights activists to get some insight into Brenner’s life.
“The story we wanted to tell was the experience as he recalls it,” Daoud told Vice. “What [experts] were going to say was the norm for the average viewer. I hope what the movie shows is that behind acts we may not agree upon are human beings.”
Human, they are…as fervently as we may wish otherwise. A man who gets his satisfaction from fins, feathers, and/or fur is still a human. So is a serial child molester. “Humanity” is not an excuse for ignobility (though human nature is an explanation for it).
Brenner believes the difference between bestiality and zoophilia (as he classifies himself) is that zoophiles try to illicit “nonverbal consent” from their animal partners. Not sure how claiming “nonverbal consent” works for a dog-lover and not for a serial rapist, but whatever helps us evolve.
Brenner says he’s not an advocate for zoophiles, but says “I would advocate that the government quit prosecuting us for loving who we love.”
Ah, yes. Love. Amid the stomach-turning descriptions of your sex with animals, I had almost forgotten this was a love story. Unconventional, yes. Unnatural, sure. Unclean, certainly. But who are we to judge whom or what a man loves?
We know there are no rules for love…love can be anything, everything, and nothing. Love transcends all rules, all limitations, so why not all species?
What’s so special about humans anyway? Aren’t we all just soulless animals, out for pleasure, until we die and disintegrate, nothing more? So who are you to tell dog-lovers they can’t have their way with the family pet? What’s wrong with trading the fairer sex for the furry ones?
Happy Valentines Day, folks.
Rebekah Maxwell, producer of the Steve Deace Show, began reporting and producing at WHO Radio in 2007, with on-air work recognized by the official alphabet soup: the AP, IBNA, NBNA, RTDNA, NAB (all the while staying far from the TSA and UFOs). She delights in debating religion, politics, and all other subjects impolite at the dinner table. Her favorite time of year is Caucus season, and she’s an accomplished slam poet, ready to spit the truth…in mad rhymes, if necessary.
The opinions expressed by columnists are their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Barb Wire.