zHEIGHTgeist

Any time I release an episode, there’s always new information that presents itself or further ideas I have after the fact. There’s always something that would’ve been good to include in the episode, if I’d thought of it or seen it in time. But I guess that’s what these notes are for.

In my origin story, I touched on what it would mean for a giantess to enter a city, sift through a crowd of hundreds of stunned bystanders, and select me as the one she couldn’t live without. And in the episode about what macrophilia isn’t, I pointed out aspects of the fetish that should sound familiar to us: sure, we like giant women, but in many ways we all want to be overwhelmed by the sexual experience and we want to feel loved, cherished, sexy, etc.

We want to feel special, like we matter, regardless of what we produce or accomplish, outside of our resumes. It’s not that we need to be the Last Starfighter; we just want to feel like we matter. We’re not just an NPC that you bump into for three stock phrases.

There’s a music video by a Greek musician, Nikos Oikonomopoulos (Νίκος Οικονομόπουλος), for his song “Every Day (Καθημερινά).” In it he portrays a distressed, disaffected man who attempts to wrap up his existential frustration in driving off a cliff. He goes over the edge, but his dead eyes and expressionless face stare up as an archetypically beautiful Greek goddess/giantess catches his car in one huge hand and places him back on the level surface. Nikos gets out of the car to catch a glimpse of his rescuer, with all the urgency and shock we might display while rinsing our hair, unable to find any trace of her.

This was a man in distress, wrapped up in his petty concerns, who decided to drive over a cliff. A supernatural figure took notice of him and manifested, in violation of known physics, to catch his vehicle and restore him to safety. In the translation of the lyrics I was able to find, it’s a man who has lost a woman, for one reason or another, and he misses her. For this, he was going to end his own life (if the video has anything to do with the words), and a goddess saw fit to prevent this.

Right? Fuck the management of the universe. Who could possibly be bothered with the balancing of a habitable ecosystem? Set aside all concerns with cosmic machinations: there’s a little guy who’s a little sad about a petty, typical occurrence. Sad little dude requires all the attention of a supernatural force.

Related to this, someone in my family has turned evangelical in their dotage. Their favorite song is “Who You Say I Am” by Hillsong Worship. Full disclosure: everyone should despise fundamentalism in any religion, but I am also against orthodox religiosity. I have never seen a religion that encouraged anyone to be a better person and to care for their community; religion only seems to mandate worship of some abstract figure while rejecting that figure’s practical teachings.

That’s what this “Who You Say I Am” video reinforces: the lyrics reaffirm that God Himself is reaching down to tell some random person that they’re extremely special, and the live music video is full of hollow-eyed white people beating their chests in gratitude for being told they’re extremely special, and that they don’t have to do anything kind or charitable or loving for their fellow people. They’re just special, and that’s the end of it. You can continue being a shitty, hateful person, because Jesus died for you. How does that work out? You’re asking too many questions.

To be honest, that’s not far removed from my giantess fetish. In the same way these hateful, bigoted evangelical hypocrites want their god to reach down and declare them special to the world, I want some beautiful, all-knowing and all-loving giantess to reach down and set me apart from the masses, to claim me as her beloved and precious, to reveal some inner truth about my own specialness. I don’t need Asia and Europe and Africa to recognize me as special. It’s more like a Junji Ito erotica, where I’m perfectly shaped to fit inside the giantess’s vagina.

That’s all I’m saying, is that nearly every aspect of Size Fantasy has an analogue in everyone’s everyday needs and desires. The scale is the only unusual thing, which becomes trivial, incidental, when you recognize that the core of what we want is the core of what every-fucking-body else wants. The giantess fetish shouldn’t be seen as unusual; it should be as natural and common as drinking water, and that’s the drum I will beat for the rest of my days.