Would You Be a Eunuch?

Post 812

It’s interesting what happens when you drive off a cliff. I mean, this blog was a happy little guy in a happy little car, merrily going by countless signs with sensible and decent questions written on them, and then… then the car went off the cliff and straight into a black hole where, inside, it’s a cacophony of colourful interdimensional lunacy. Gone are is the sane and rational questions, and in their places, eunuchs. Eunuchs everywhere! It does make me wonder if, by the time I arrive at my 1000th post, presuming I’m still alive by then, I’ll be doing posts about the shipping forecast…

So, eunuchs, huh? Well, it occurs to me that A, not many will be familiar with this word and B, the life of a eunuch isn’t one many aspire to. Most aspire to be super billionaires with golden shag pads on the Moon, but… what, just me? Ah, come on now, I don’t believe you. A ‘eunuch,’ to put it bluntly, is a man who has been castrated in order for said eunuch to perform some social function. Oh, you don’t know what ‘castrated’ means either? Hmm… imagine a crème brûlée without the custard. Yeah, that.

Interestingly, and by ‘interestingly’ I actually mean ‘horrifyingly,’ most eunuchs were castrated without his consent. Imagine being all tucked up in bed and one night and some strangers came in and stole your ‘custard.’ Not a very nice thing to do, is it? Over the years, eunuchs have performed many a function. Probably to make up for the one big function they can no longer perform. They were courtiers, guardians of women, religious specialists, royal guards and soldiers, plus treble singers and government officials. Some would say that modern government officials also lack balls…

More often than not, eunuchs were slaves castrated to make them more reliable servants of some royal court or another. But herein lays the reason why many did this. Gaining access to the royal ruler carried much weight. Simply bathing him or carrying him to bed (seriously) gave the eunuch much power. Some would say that this wouldn’t be a great reason to lose one’s nards. I happen to agree. “Servant, wash my gonads, will you?” “Oh, sure, of course, but will you wash mine first – oh, wait, that’s right, you can’t, BECAUSE YOU TOOK THEM FROM ME, YOU TART!”

People were ‘chosen’ for ‘eunuchood’ because they were seen as outcasts with no ambitions and no loyalties whatsoever. They didn’t care about the aristocracy or the military. They had no desire to have a family, either. Thus, the chosen few were seen as more trustworthy. Because of their low social standing, eunuchs were easily replaceable and thus could be killed at will without any fear of reprisal by outraged members of the public. It’s a bit like being me on the bus, what with my long hair, glasses and generally nerdy appearance. I got abuse hurled at me and no one gave a damn. Sniff. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen now. As much. I mean, children do throw their Wotsits at me from time to time, but that happens to everyone, right? No? Really? Oh, darn it…

The word ‘eunuch’ comes from the combination of two Greek words, enue, meaning ‘bed’ and echein, meaning ‘to have charge of.’ To have charge of one’s bed. Huh? To have charge of – what the heck does that even mean? Aren’t we all ‘in charge’ of our beds? To be frank, it’s not something I even thought about until now.

You might think eunuchs are a thing of the past. Don’t worry, there aren’t bastards roaming the lands looking to break in to your room in the dead of night looking to steal your cajones. Nobody would want my beanbags anyway. I think. I hope. No, the hijra of South Asia are often described as ‘eunuchs,’ many of whom have surgical castration instead of gender reassignment surgery. The loss of testosterone and lack of oestrogen gives them the bodies of the post-pubertal eunuchs of old. And in the west, those suffering from advanced prostate cancer are often castrated, with half a million in the United States alone. Many, in fact, even embrace the term ‘eunuch.’

Although it’s not the end of the world if one looses one’s walnuts. You can’t have children, which is a bonus. Also, many studies have found that those of us without our baubles live up to 13.5 years longer. If I made it to 110, I’d have it done, I really would. That would ensure that I’d make it to 123, beating the current record holder for the oldest living human. Better yet, I could get one plum chopped off at 115, live an extra 6 or so years to 121, then get the other bojangle chopped off, and live to 128. I think this is how biology works. Pretty sure of that…

Some think castration leads to a longer life because of chemicals and shit. Not strictly true. Testosterone is reduced in those of us without our goolies, and less testosterone means the chances of you getting into a violent scrape are reduced. So that’s a pro. Heck, it’s even a pro if you find yourself getting into a nasty row. One less target for the missus to hit.

But I don’t think all the pros are strictly relevant to the modern world. I’m not entirely sure why one would be seen as more trustworthy without one’s doo-dahs. I think other feelings would outweigh it, like that age-old concern of feeling like less of a man, somehow. Not being able to have children though, I mean, I couldn’t ask for a better gift, really. And yes, whilst a longer life would be swell, one of the big reasons people had this done was to gain a standing in the royal courts, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t think the Queen hires people based on whether or not they have giblets.

All this said, castration often causes serious urinary tract infections and there can be problems with incontinence. Eunuchs of old famously smelt rotten because their bladders were rather weak and, well, you can imagine the rest of this tale. Despite this, eunuchs survive more often than not. There’s a 98% survival rate, don’t you know. Some even choose to keep their nuggets in a jar on the mantelpiece. Imagine your lass went away for a couple weeks and she came back to that. “So, how was the surgery, honey?” “Oh, fine, fine, dear. Do… do you want to see the twins?” “Come again?” “I wish I could…”

It’s hard for any man to imagine a life without his huevos, isn’t it? His jellybeans. His cobblers. His family jewels. His coconuts. His maracas. His twiddle-tiddles. His love spuds. I could literally do this all day…

Look, being a eunuch was a living, like flipping burgers in this day and age. That said, I think employment opportunities for eunuchs are few and far between nowadays. But, forgetting that point just for a mo, would being a eunuch really be worth it, and, more to the point, would I be a eunuch?

Are you kidding? Abso-bloody-lutely… I wouldn’t even dream of it…

Ciao :)(:


I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the ‘Archives’ page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.


Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other blog:

The Indelible Life of Me
New Post Every Saturday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post


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