I apologize for giving you the impression that I was trying to discredit the Netherland's social structure. It must be the "authoritarian" in me. On the contrary, I've made a point of visiting the Netherlands as often as possible over the last 25 years, expressly because I always enjoyed their "live and let live" outlook on life. At the same time there are some aspects of modern Dutch thought that I don't subscribe to, i.e. "if it feels good, do it, no matter what the consequences". I've fought too hard to keep my skin intact and my vital functions, functioning (sometimes without great success) to want to look for new ways to die.
Dave Reed asked for specific references for my remarks concerning so called, "Russian Roulette" sex parties. Part of my insight comes from conversations with an old, very dear friend in Amsterdam who happens to be a former "working girl" or some repute. In addition to that he should read the writings of Michael Scarce and POZ magazine that refers to this particular subject at length. Also there was an article in the San Francisco Chronicle by Sabin Russell in January that describes this phenomenon at greater depth than I really wanted to know about.
As an unrelated anecdote, referring to the Netherland's policies on physician assisted euthanasia and non-resuscitation; I had occasion to have surgery on an old back injury in Heerlen, Netherlands shortly after these new laws took effect. (1991). While my surgery was not life threatening, it still required that I be anesthetized. I made a point to notify ALL of the doctors, nurses, and remaining staff that I did not considered myself enlightened enough to take part in their revolutionary new social programs and that I was to be resuscitated as long as there was a pint of blood in my body, even if that meant hooking me up to every form of assisted breathing, circulating, and defribrilating device in their inventory. The surgeon performing the procedure was a smart ass and as I counted backwards while being anesthetized, I heard him comment, in perfect English, that I was obviously "a goner" and "Are you an organ donor"? As an extra added introduction into the subtle differences between Dutch and American health care, after a brief spell in post-op, coming out of my stupor, I was wheeled to my semi-private room on the surgery floor. I met and was introduced to my roommate, a cheerful, middle-aged woman who was at that moment undergoing a pelvic exam. We became friends over the next few days, but I was never able to totally forget my first introduction to her.
And Dave, I may be mixing my urban myths but I thought it was gerbils, not mice. |
