![\"The](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.badreputation.org.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/03\/eleanor-cross.jpg\")
<\/a>The Eleanor Cross replica at Charing Cross, London.<\/p><\/div>\n
Yet this word \u2013 simultaneously standing in for itself and existing as an independent unit of meaning \u2013 is possibly one of the most widely-used symbols of all.\u00a0How exactly this might be relevant to a consideration of feminism will be herein considered, but I hope my indulgent readers will excuse a slightly cheeky use of theoretical thinking. We all know each other well enough by now, don’t we?<\/p>\n
VCR<\/h3>\n
The most straightforward significance of X is, as Latin-fans will
know, ‘ten’ \/ ’10’ (I, II, III, IV, V, VI,
VII, VIII, IX, X). Two tens side by side is\u00a0XX<\/em>, or\u00a0twenty \/ 20.\u00a0How many tens can you think
of? Ten lost tribes of Israel, ten commandments, ten plagues of
Egypt, ten dimes in a dollar, ten years in a decade. It’s a
pleasingly round number, and an easy times table, even if it
frequently loses out to ‘twelve’ \/ ’12’
in mystic significance.<\/p>\n
But\u00a0x <\/em>is not simply a linguistic unit: it is also a visual
one. Two diagonal lines; two Vs touching each other; a
crossover; a cross; a cross-roads. Like ‘0’, which
means ‘oh’, ‘o’, ‘zero’
and ‘nothing’, it represents one of its meanings
aesthetically: it is a
cross. <\/em>Thus\u00a0King’s X and Charing
X<\/a> (this last was named for the
Eleanor Cross <\/em>built on the site by Richard I to
commemorate the funeral procession of his wife) \u2013
but, perhaps because of its relationship to the Greek
letter ‘Chi’ (‘Ch-‘), which is the
first letter of ‘Christ’,\u00a0x <\/em>can also signify he-who-died-on-a-cross
(‘X-mas<\/em>‘), although it actually looks more
like the St. Andrew cross, which makes up the Scottish
flag.<\/p>\n
In numerical terms, though,\u00a0x <\/em>can also\u00a0take on the role of an
unknown quantity \u2013 ‘Find the value of
x<\/em>‘, where the
x <\/em>is italicised to mark its
distinction from ‘x’. It is
‘unknown’, not
‘multiply’, an absent value
rather than a pluralised one. Here too, we
bump into a common significance
x <\/em>has: it represents absence. It is
the legal signature of the illiterate
(‘I cannot write; here is the
x <\/em>that represents “yes, I
agree” but also “no, I
cannot write”), and the standard
stand-in for a quantity that is unknown
or not yet provided (‘Dear
X’).<\/p>\n
The unknown or unstated quantity has
also fed over into censorship:
an\u00a0X-rated <\/em>film is one only
suitable for those aged over 18. It
was replaced in 1982 by the
’18’ certificate, but
such certificates have frequently
been seen by directors as more of a
target than an impediment:
Hitchcock’s extremely
grim\u00a0Frenzy <\/strong>(1972) was
conceived to coincide with the
USA’s revised\u00a0R-rating<\/em> so that the
Master of Suspense could claim
his place in the pantheon of
horror with a badge of censored
honour.<\/p>\n Hitchcock's
Frenzy.<\/p><\/div>\n
This was\u00a0his penultimate
film, and the only one to
carry an ’18’
certificate in the UK or
receive an
‘X-rating’
<\/em>after the age
restriction was moved up to
18 in 1971. It’s about
a rapist serial-killer. If
the accusation of misogyny
leveled at him impedes your
appreciation of
Hitchcock’s films as a
whole, I would not recommend
this one. It features an
extended rape scene shot
with a disturbing emphasis
on its supposed eroticism,
and some true masterpieces
of misogyny in
the dialogue<\/a>.<\/p>\n
There’s also\u00a0this
scene<\/a>, which
features\u00a0Babs’
death: from the moment
Rust enters the frame we
know she’s dead, and
the line which precedes
the attack,
‘You’re my
kind of woman’
(whose results we have
already seen in graphic
form on his previous
victim) precedes one of
Hitchcock’s most
underrated panning shots:
the camera backs out down
the stairs and out into
the street in what the
director himself dubbed
‘Bye
Bye To Babs<\/a>‘.
This is the second of the
film’s rape-murders
and one no less disturbing
for being ‘exed
out’ \u2013 its
self-censorship makes its
own point.<\/p>\n
There is a beautifully
dark irony in how this
most censored of
Hitchcock’s films is
also one focused almost
entirely around silencing
and deleting women \u2013
exing
<\/em>them\u00a0by using
the Latin prefix
‘out of, from,
utterly, beyond’
(ex<\/em>), thus, in
verbal
form,\u00a0‘to
delete, to cross
off’ (as in
‘to\u00a0x<\/em>‘, to
‘cross’,
which can also be
‘to
thwart’ \u2013
‘Don’t
cross
me!’).\u00a0This
is the
x-<\/em>form that
gives
us\u00a0‘ex-boyfriend,
ex-girlfriend,
ex-wife<\/em>‘,
so that
the\u00a0x <\/em>acts
as a negative,
canceling out
the word that
follows it,
making
the\u00a0spouse
<\/em>a\u00a0stranger<\/em>,
and the
act of so
doing is,
in fact,
an act of
deletion
\u2013
‘exing<\/em>‘
someone,
crossing
them out
(indeed,
we
frequently
drop the
specifics
altogether,
don’t
we?
‘My
ex’.)<\/p>\n
If you
buy
the
theory
that
Hitch
was
himself
a
Horrible
Misogynist
(which,
with
regret,
I
think
I must
\u2013
in
this
film
at
least)
\u2013
the
fact
that
he
chose
a kind
of
Jack
the
Ripper
style
return
to his
London
roots
for
his
attempt
on the
R-rating
is a
masterpiece
of
gyno-negation
(yes I
made
that
compound
up,
but
I’m
running
with
it):<\/p>\n
Solicitor
in
Pub<\/strong>:
Let’s
hope
he
slips
up
soon.
Frenzy
<\/strong>(1972)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
It
is,
then,
fantastically
dark
yet
undeniably
fitting
that
x
<\/em>is
frequently
appropriated
as
a
symbol
of
sexytimes:
XXX
(thirty)
means
‘extra
strong’,
via
an
x<\/em>
homonym
extra<\/em>.
Thus
it
is
an
identifier
for
pornography
and
x-rated
<\/em>movies,
and,
in
the
form
.xxx<\/em>
is
a
‘sponsored
top
level
domain’
(what?)
intended
as
a
voluntary
option
for
porn
sites
(instead
of
.com,
.co.uk
etc),
to
allow
clear
classification
and
prevent
The
Children
accessing
such
sites
‘by
accident’.
The
difficulty
here,
of
course,
is
that
it
requires
binary
identification
of
What
Is
Porn
and
What
Is
Not
(of
which
more
presently).<\/span><\/p>\n
In
lower-case
form,
xxx
connects
love
and
lust:
most
people
know
of
x
=
kiss
(I’ve
always
wondered
if
there’s
something
in
‘k’
being
an
‘x’
that
may
have
hit
a
wall),
but
Wikipedia
claims
‘xxx’
means
‘I
love
you’
through
the
power
of
three.
Like
‘heart’,
which
is
a
very
different
thing
from
‘love’
(‘I
heart
NY’),
‘X’
is
frequently
something
distinct
from
‘kiss’,
and
rarely
a
simple
representation
of
it.
Just
look
at
Holly
Valance,
whose
2002
single
‘Kiss
Kiss<\/a>‘
(and
its
predictably
lips-obsessed
video)<\/a>
repeatedly
blocks
out
what
comes
after
‘my…’,
replacing
it
with
a
‘mwah
mwah’
which
is
frequently
not
even
mimed
in
the
video,
and,
as
the
song
progresses,
gets
increasingly
mixed
out,
blanked
out
and
fragmented.<\/span><\/p>\n
Don’t
play
the
games
that
you
play
–
Holly
Valance,
‘Kiss
Kiss’<\/strong>
(2002)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Where
this
is
all
leading
is,
of
course,
‘tonight
I’m
gonna
give
you
my
XX’…
which
is
also
‘my
XXX’.
Add
to
this
the
traditional
association
of
mouths
and
vaginas
(whose
natural
endpoint
is
the
vagina
dentata<\/a>,
whence
a
man
‘always
leaves
diminished’)
and
you
have
a
really
rather
porno-tastic
song
all
round
(yet
one
that
would
never
come
with
a
domain
name
culminating
with
.xxx).<\/p>\n
By
contrast,
xoxo
means
‘kiss,
hug,
kiss,
hug’
(less
sexual
all
round)
and
is
another
way
of
using
letters
as
symbols
for
something
else
\u2013
O
is
‘hug’
because
it
enfolds
itself,
yet
that
self-enclosure
also
makes
it
0
=
nothing.
To
borrow
the
assumptions
of
the
seventeenth
century,
this
‘nothing’
is
also
equivalent
to
‘cunt’,
since
it
is
an
empty
space
(as
in
Rochester’s
poem
‘Upon
Nothing<\/a>‘,
which
describes
‘nothing’
as
‘a
great
uniteD\u00a0What<\/em>‘
(pronounce
‘what’
to
rhyme
with
‘cat’
to
get
‘pussy<\/a>‘)).
Similarly,
in
Hamlet<\/strong>,
Ophelia
tells
the
protagonist
she
thinks
‘nothing’
\u2013
which,
he
replies,
is
‘a
pretty
thought
to
lie
between
maids’
legs’,
and
(given
that
‘th’
was
frequently
pronounced
‘t’
in
the
sixteenth
century),
in
the
light
of
this
you
may
wish
to
reconsider
the
meaning
of
Shakespeare’s
title
‘Much
Ado
About
Nothing’.
There
is
a
curious
irony
here
in
the
use
of
‘x’
and
‘o’
side
by
side:
one
crosses
out
and
refuses,
the
other
is
‘nothing’
in
the
first
place.<\/p>\n
You
have
all
been
mighty
patient,
but
here
I
draw
towards
a
conclusion:
x
<\/em>is
a
letter
so
many-layered
as
to
refuse
any
comprehensive
analysis.
But
this
is
itself
quite
appropriate,
because
those
of
its
meanings
I
have
looked
at
here
all
hinge
around
negation
or
deletion.
That
these
should
happen
to
focus
around
sex
and
(specifically)
the
vagina
is
not
necessarily
something
intrinsic
to
the
letter,
but
it
certainly
tells
you
a
lot
about
how
that
letter
is
used.
Blocked
out,
crossed
out;
rendered
titillating
or
exciting;
exclusive
or
exclusionary
\u2013
exit<\/em>,
stage
right.<\/p>\n
Crystalised<\/h3>\n
<\/a>
\nDoctor
in
Pub<\/strong>:
In
one
way
I
rather
hope
he
doesn’t.
We
haven’t
had
a
good
juicy
series
of
sex
murders
since
Christie.
And
they’re
so
good
for
the
tourist
trade.
Foreigners
somehow
expect
the
squares
of
London
to
be
fog-wreathed,
full
of
hansom
cabs
and
*littered*
with
ripped
whores,
don’t
you
think?<\/p>\n
Heart
Skipped
A
Beat<\/h3>\n
\n‘Cause
you
know
that
I
won’t
run
away
\nWhy
aren’t
you
asking
me
to
stay
\n‘Cause
tonight
I’m
gonna
give
you
my
(mwah
mwah)<\/p>\n
Basic
Space<\/h3>\n
Stars<\/h3>\n