Friday, May 27, 2011

The Friday Sex Blog [Pussy]

¡Hola! Everybody…
Wish me luck… just wish me luck, don’t ask! (LOL)

* * *

-=[ Pussy ]=-

“Feeling a little irritated in the airport? Just say, ‘cunt!’ everything changes.”

-- Eve Ensler, Vagina Monologues

Pussy, cunt, chocha, toto, twat, beaver, the jade throne -- whatever you call it, the vagina has had a pivotal role in human history. Yet despite its crucial historical location, you might as well have been talking about the dark side of the moon when talking about what we knew of the vagina. This changed somewhat during the late 1950s and early 1960s when William Masters, M.D., and Virginia Johnson devised an experiment that allowed them to observe directly what happens deep inside the vagina during sexual arousal and intercourse. They had women masturbate to orgasm using a camera-equipped plastic penis, complete with a special light to illuminate the mysterious, lightless interior.

Masters and Johnson reported that the vagina is “a potential rather than an actual space.” Its soft, velvety walls (yummy) are collapsed together, touching each other. However, during the first stage of the sexual response cycle, shortly after initial sexual stimulation, two things happen: the vagina begins to lubricate and to expand. According to researchers, vaginal lubrication is the first physiological sign of arousal in women: within 10 to 30 seconds after stimulation begins, the researchers found, little beads of fluid begin forming all over the vaginal walls, giving them the appearance of a sweat-beaded forehead. The little beads rapidly spread to form that deliciously smooth, glistening covering men love so much.*

As a woman becomes increasingly aroused, the deepest two-thirds of her vagina begin inflating, almost like a balloon -- lengthening and expanding in what Masters and Johnson described as a “tenting” effect. The uterus and cervix pull slowly up and back, out of harm’s way. (Some women have retroverted, or tipped, uterus, causing the cervix to stay where it is, suspended in this widening vaginal cavity -- where a man’s penis may batter it, sometimes painfully, during intercourse.)

During all this, the vaginal walls dramatically change in color form their usual purplish red tint to a distinctly darker purplish hue. This is the result of vasocongestion -- the damming up of blood that’s the central event of sexual arousal.

As sexual excitement reaches the plateau stage (the second stage of the sexual cycle), the outer third of the vagina swells as it engorged with blood, to the extent that it actually narrows the vaginal entrance by up to 50 percent. (The deeper part of the vagina is expanding; the outer part is narrowing.) Masters and Johnson called this outer third the “orgasmic platform,” and it was this area that reacted most dramatically during orgasm. At the moment of climax, this whole outer ring begins spasmodically contracting at 0.8-second intervals, anywhere from 3-15 times. At the very highest level of sexual excitement, some women experience a sort of superorgasm: the orgasmic platform explodes into a spastic contraction lasting 2 to 4 seconds (knocking them knees), then downshifts into the 0.8-contractions of “normal” orgasm.

After, during the third (“resolution”) phase of the sexual response, the orgasmic platform rapidly drains of blood, the vaginal opening expands, and the inner, distended part of the vagina shrinks back to its original state.


These findings point to one erroneous, but common, misconception men have about the vagina: that it’s deep, hammering penetration that drives women wild. Much of this misconception is the result of male-oriented erotic material that emphasizes the imagery of deep penetration: spikes, spears, lances, swords all plunging to the hilt.

But the truth is that for most women, the deepest two-thirds of the vagina are practically numb to the touch. Researchers have found that deep inside, the vaginal walls have few nerve endings. By contrast, the outer third of the vagina and the vaginal opening are exceedingly sensitive to touch.

On the other hand, more recent research have established that some women do find deep vaginal penetration incredibly pleasurable, reporting that it triggers a “deep” orgasm that’s different from an orgasm touched off by clitoral stimulation. Because the vaginal walls have so little feeling, sex researchers believe that some women enjoy the deep muscular contractions of the uterus and muscles of the pelvic floor (this can also be due to the more recently discovered “clitoral wings” that form a semi ring extending close to the anal area). Other women seem to be especially responsive to firm pressure on top of the front wall of the vagina, also called the G-spot.

I guess what I’m saying here is that basically when it comes to sexual enjoyment -- and sexual equipment -- all women are alike… but also different.



*Note: for the sake of brevity I am using the accepted “stage model” of orgasm. I have problems with this stage-model (as do others) but I am using this model now only because it’s more convenient for my purposes today.

Check out the video to see a demonstration of the various vaginal moans:

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

BREAKING: NY-26 Goes Democratic... and Why it Means Something

You know you're in trouble when upstate New Yorkers (some who make the hillbilly characters from the film Deliverance seem sophisticated by comparison) join in kicking a conservative politician to the curb -- in one of the most conservative districts in the state (and possibly the nation). This is a district that voted against Obama, who took the rest of NY by a landslide. This is the same district that hasn't voted in a democrat in, like 100 fuckin' years...

Today, upstate voters voted in a... democrat! LOL

Paul Ryan by DonkeyHotey

Sure, you say that it's just one measly district, but I believe this is a bad omen for the knuckle-dragging twats on the right. For one, they poured enormous amounts of money and resources into this election -- in what should've been a cakewalk. The right wing parade of national batshittery passed by the district to lend their name recognition and support.

And they lost. They lost because this was a referendum on right wing fiscal policies -- mostly rehashed dismal failures of past decades: rob from the poor to give to the rich. Otherwise known as Reaganomics, supply-side, trickle down bullshit. Bush I had it right: it's magical thinking dressed as economic policy, or better put: Voodoo Economics.

Public Policy Polling
shows why this election is very important moving on:

Congressional Republicans are extremely unpopular and voters think they're doing an even worse job than the Democrats they put out of office six months ago. That was true in NY-26 and that's true nationally. Last month we found nationally that 43% of voters thought House Republicans were doing a worse job than the Democrats did while in the majority to only 36% who felt they were an improvement. Even in NY-26, which voted 13 points more Republican than the country as a whole in 2008, 38% of voters think the Republicans are doing a worse job than the Democrats to only 34% who think they're an improvement. You can talk about Jack Davis all you want but the reality is that if voters thought House Republicans were bringing the improvement they hoped for when they went to vote last November Jane Corwin would have won tonight...

And believe me, the take-away here -- the chum in the water -- is that House Democratic candidates will run against John Boehner and the Ryan plan next year. Again, Public Policy Polling lays out the cruel numbers:

Boehner's approval rating nationally is a 25/42 spread and even in this traditionally Republican district it's a 28/45 spread. Barack Obama's not popular in this district either, don't get me wrong- his approval is a 42/51 breakdown. But it's remarkable that his net approval is 8 points better than Boehner's in a district that John McCain won by 6 points in 2008. Again you can talk about Jack Davis all day but if John Boehner was more popular than Barack Obama in this district, as you would certainly have expected the case to be, then Jane Corwin would have won tonight.
Interesting times indeed...

My name is Eddie and I'm in recovery from civilization...

Update #1 (h/t Steve Benen)

Last night's was a huge upset -- a body blow against the conservative agenda, but it’s also the latest in a spate of recent victories for democrats...

  • New Hampshire: Last week, there was a special election in a state House district where Republicans have dominated for years. The Democratic candidate won in a landslide, even after a local town clerk illegally required photo IDs to vote.
  • Florida: Also last week, Jacksonville was home to a high-profile mayoral race, and the state GOP touted the election as the first warning shot of the 2012 cycle. Instead, voters elected Democrat Alvin Brown — Jacksonville’s first African-American mayor — stunning the Republican establishment statewide.
  • Wisconsin: Three weeks ago, there was a special election in a Wisconsin state Assembly district that has been represented by a Republican for 16 years. In this case, the Democrat won by eight points.
  • Maine: Two weeks ago, there was a special election to fill a vacancy in the state Senate, in a district that has been very competitive in the recent past. In this case, the Democrat won by a crushing 2-to-1 margin.

This is not to say that Dems have recovered from a brutal 2010. Dems withstood a beating after doing well in 2009 special elections, for example. Also, Let me be clear: last night's winner is at best a Blue Dog democrat, hardly something progressives should celebrate. Still...

Conservatives began the year with the help of a passive corporate-run media with all the national momentum going for them. However, after a series of losses in races Republicans should have won easily, it is clear (except to conservatives, apparently) that the American public isn’t buying what the GOP is selling.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Jesus is Gonna Kick Yo' Ass!

¡Hola! Everybody…
Seems like the rapture is upon us proving Glenn Beck was right all along. Now, don’t you feel like an idiot for not purchasing his Rapture Survival Backpack© ($149.95 plus shipping and handling)? Ha!!(h/t Lionel)

* * *

-=[ The Rapture ]=-

Quick! Look busy -- Jesus is coming!

Apparently, a certain religious nut from California has predicted the end times begin tonight. I refuse to give him any more publicity than he has already garnered, so Google “rapture” if you want the details. If you’re too lazy, I’ll explain about the rapture…

Pretend you’re a big time Hollywood executive I tried to pitch you this story:

“Okay, let me start with some context. It’s the 21st century, but millions of people still believe in this invisible Super Ghost who lives somewhere way, way up in the sky somewhere. You see, he created everything, sees everything, knows everything, and knows everything that had ever happened or will happen. Something like a huge security camera in the sky.

The people who believe in him think of him as a magic helper who protects, punishes, and watches over them. It’s a take on the Santa Claus thingee: He sees you when you’re sleeping, He knows when you’re awake (and engaged in socialist activities), and so on.

Yet even though this ghost has, like, all the superpowers of all the superheroes rolled into one, he’s in actuality very insecure. He demands that you follow him or else you get an eternity burning in a non-stop, super-duper fire, boiling in lava-like shit and being constantly stabbed by devils with pitchforks. Oh yeah! I almost forgot, two thousand years ago he sent his only son (which he conceived by fucking a married virgin) to earth in order to redeem humanity from their wickedness by getting him nailed to a cross and, you know, that whole Gospel According to Mel Gibson treatment.

Now, bear with me because this is where the story gets interesting: after two thousand years of watching humanity slaughter itself, getting really fucked up, and having wild orgies, and basically just slacking off, The Son plans to return to earth from outer space. But before he does, he’s going to beam up to Heaven all those people who have continued to have faith in him, yup, levitate them right out of their clothes, wherever they are -- on an airplane, asleep, having sex, on the toilet, and (get this!) in the freaking grave! Yup, corpses and cadavers blasting out of the ground! Think: Saw meets Night of the Living Dead, with some touches of Superman and Terminator thrown in.

Meanwhile, the people left behind are freaking out. I mean, imagine you’re on an airplane to Puerto Rico and suddenly the pilot fuckin’ disappears! Flies right by your window!


Then you look and you see hundreds of naked people whooshing by (of course, we’ll make them up to be gorgeous, size zero, big-breasted, no ass-having blonde white babes and maybe throw in an old dude just for laughs). And then the plane just nose dives, crashes smack into the side of a mountain. Families are broken up and companies have to close because, like, the entire sales department just flew through the AC vents out the window!

Meanwhile, the people left behind are in a mass panic and MSBNCNNFOX is blaming it on the Muslims and the liberals. The president is pissed because he thinks it’s some secret pentagon weapon he wasn’t informed about. Cut to a religious secretary as she tells him, ‘Mr. President, it’s the Rapture.’ Since he’s secretly a Nigerian postcolonial Socialist Islamofascist, he’s never heard of the Rapture. The secret service sweeps him away to an undisclosed location where they fill him in on the details.

And this is just the first seven minutes! In the rest of the movie, the people left behind are going to suffer a seven-year nightmare of wars, plagues, attacks from supernatural creatures, asteroid collisions, and rivers of blood… ”

Would you buy a pitch like that? Well, considering the really inferior crap that gets produced these days, maybe a studio would produce such a story. But if I insisted that I actually believed the story to be true, most of you would have probably called security and have me kicked to the curb, right? Right? Right?I

As many as a hundred million Americans believe in this story, which is known as the Rapture, a scene lifted out of the last book of the Bible. Yeah, that part, the crazy, hallucinogenic part. The part with the Apocalypse and its Four Horsemen, the Whore of Babylon, a seven-headed dragon, and crap that looks straight out of a badly crafted segment of Lord of the Rings.

It’s hey-Zeus (!) on steroids come back to kick some major Muslim (and Jewish, and Pagan, and Wiccan, and… etc.) ass!

If you’re a Christian and never heard of the Rapture, then shame on you, you didn’t read the Bible all the way through to the end. In any case, this book isn’t for believers of the rapture. It’s for you, Heathen! Unbeliever! Doubter! Satanist! Secular Humanist Socialist liberal! If you're curious about what 100 million people find so compelling about the Rapture, then this book will do the trick. If, on the other hand, you’re the kind of person who values reason rather than myth, then this book will literally make you laugh your ass off.

Quick! Look Busy!

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization…

Friday, May 20, 2011

The Sex Blog [Relationship Challenges]

¡Hola! Everybody,
Change is hard! LOL But it’s the only constant -- even the surest things change. Gotta love this ride we call “life”!

* * *

-=[ The Challenge of Relationships ]=-

I am playing the game I suppose,
out of habits
learned long ago,
but I have been in these waters
far longer than
even my tired eyes could tell you.

Okay, so I’m going to start out by copping to the fact that I’m not all that great in the relationship arena. I don’t even have a pet… Therefore, take the rest with a grain of salt.

Something happens when I realize I’m feeling deeply for a woman and how painfully clear it is that considering a relationship is a lot like standing at the abyss and jumping. In other words, along with feelings, there comes the realization that I am also becoming vulnerable to that person I have feelings for. And that’s not a great revelation for me because, I have to admit, it’s scary.

There, I said it: relationships scare me.

It’s not a fear of commitment, that’s not it. I have and can commit to living with another person. The part that’s fearful is the part of being vulnerable. Believe me, there are plenty of people who are in committed relationships who choose not to be vulnerable. It’s not that hard. You can be in a long-term, committed relationship and not really share deep intimacy. I see it all the time. But because of the kind of person I am, when I open and give, it’s about going…




That’s why I’ve previously admitted that beginnings are extremely difficult at times with yours truly. If I’m seeing you and we both know there’s a surrender looming in the near future -- we’re both feeling these feelings and we know it’s headed somewhere -- then I’m not holding much of anything back. I’m not saying that I’m blabbing everything out by the third date, or that I immediately go overboard. LOL! That’s closer to codependency, not love. I am saying that I work at being transparent. I don’t play hide and seek. If I’m feeling something, I will look you in the eyes and let you know, “Sweetie, I don’t know how or why, but I’m starting to have these feelings… ” I won’t play The Game. The one thing you can always count on with me, is that you will always know where I stand (sometimes this is not such a good thing).

Sometimes I think that I’m too transparent or honest for my own good, but that’s how I roll: I put my cards on the table and lay it out as I see and feel it. I believe there are many people out there who see my stance as too idealistic. That people really can’t be totally open to one another. Worse, there are others who will use that. Those who would manipulate my transparency don’t last, because, shit, I’ve been veteran of the Love Wars for longer than even my tired eyes could tell you. I’m not going to let you use me that way. I’d rather go home, curl up in a fetal position, and ride that hurt -- that energy -- until I’m done with it.

Still, there’s a lot of anxiety around opening up to another in that way. Sometimes what helps me are basic reassurances. I’m like a kid in more ways than one. Something simple such as a “hello” or a passing show of affection goes a long way with me. It’s ironic because those things can be easily faked to some degree, but if I’m getting the attention and shows of affection, I’m not as anxious. Some women don’t like men like that, but it’s who I am. A kiss, a note, a surprise fuck, even just an unbidden and tender smile soothes me and lets me know that, though there aren’t any guarantees in life, you’re there and you’re somehow saying that we’re moving forward -- that you’re there with me, feeling me.

In other words, I need tons of affection! LOL!

You see, I’m really not all that complicated. If we were together, all it would take is that you throw some food at me, pay lots of attention and some sex here and there, and I’m straight.

I’m kidding. I guess what I’m saying is that relationships aren’t easy and when I resolve to engage in a relationship, I don’t take that lightly. Dearest, relationships, despite what you have been told, aren’t games. I’m also saying that a couple needs to reassure one another, especially in the beginning, when things are not so clear. Sometimes what makes the difference between having Mr./ Ms. Right as opposed to Mr./ Ms. Right (now), is how you open up to that person.

I’m just sayin’



Sunday, May 15, 2011

Sunday Sermon [Self Righteousness]

¡Hola! Everybody…
It is in those moments when life gets most difficult that we have to remind ourselves to continue to relish the sweetness of its fruits…

* * *

-=[ The Unbearable Feeling of Separateness ]=-

Self righteousness is a loud din raised to drown the voice of guilt within us.
-- Eric Hoffer

In the philosophical novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, author Milan Kundera challenges Nietzsche’s concept of eternal recurrence -- the idea that the universe and its events have already occurred and will recur infinitely. The novel’s themes put forward the alternative; that each person has only one life to live, and that which occurs in life occurs only once and never again (hence the “lightness” of being). On the contrary, the concept of eternal recurrence forces a “heaviness” on our lives and on the decisions we make (and gives them “weight.”) Nietzsche believed this heaviness could be either a tremendous burden or great benefit depending on the individual’s perspective.

Following Kundera’s logic, life is insignificant, and decisions do not matter and therefore rendered light. “If we have only one life to live,” goes the saying, “we might as well not have lived at all.” The awareness of life occurring once and never again means our lives in themselves are insignificant. The insignificance of decisions -- our being -- causes us great suffering, perceived as the unbearable lightness of being. This insignificance is existentially unbearable when it is considered that people want their lives to have meaning.

I don’t agree with Kundera’s position, but I have to admit that the likelihood of our lives amounting to nothing but a grand Cosmic Joke( to which we all know the punchline) is an anxiety that lurks just underneath everyone’s consciousness (by the way, the book is an excellent read).

In my experience our actions and thoughts and words send out karmic ripples that affect us, those we love, and humankind in general. In fact, these ripples become so intertwined with past ripples and the ripples of others that we could never fully know the full implications of our actions. That’s why intention is so important. But here again, I have to concede the well-worn cliche that enough of the roads of hell are paved with good intentions…

I am not an upstanding citizen. I break rules, I swear, I am oftentimes vulgar, and I am no “giant” among humans. I never invented anything worthwhile, or have I liberated throngs of men and women. There have been many times I have acted immorally, cowardly even. I was not a good role model for my younger siblings and quite possibly influenced them in bad ways. I have manipulated, stole, cheated, lied, used women (and been used). At various times in my life I have been hopelessly addicted, a criminal, a failed pimp, institutionalized, and seen and done things most people never live to retell. When I die, a significant portion of those who will bother to remember me will remember me as an asshole, or even worse. And they will have good reason to. In short, I am no gentleman. Nor do I want to be one.

I am no longer the same man I was 20 years ago, and I do try live my life in an ethically and morally grounded manner. I no longer pillager and plunder, but these are precepts, not commandments, and life is a work of art, not a set of sums. I find that I am much happier when I make an effort to remember my transgressions. It makes me less self-righteous. I made a promise to myself many years ago I would never become one of those self-righteous reformed motherfuckers. We have met, at one time or another, a "former sinner" who today spends his or her time telling everyone else how to live, which God to believe in, and the so-called motherfuckin "Truth." Self-righteousness -- that essentially selfish human weakness of seeing yourself as separate -- is most evident in the hypocrite. If you do not believe me, take a closer look around you, read the signs.

Eric Hoffer proposed that self-righteousness (and fanaticism) are rooted in self-hatred and insecurity. He believed that a passionate obsession with the private lives of other people is merely a cowardly attempt to compensate for a lack of character in one’s own life. A core principle of Hoffer's was his insight that mass movements are interchangeable; he notes fanatical Nazis later becoming fanatical Communists, fanatical Communists later becoming fanatical anti-Communists, and Saul, persecutor of Christians, becoming Paul, a fanatical Christian. You can see this dynamic at work with the teabaggers which is a continuation of the right wing’s racist Southern Strategy. For the “true believer” the substance of the mass movement isn’t so important as that they are part of that movement.

I think as a society we exemplify the grabbing and holding for attention that comes from a lack of self-esteem. How else can you explain the right wing (or “reality” TV shows)? We do this even in our quest for a “relationship,” or love. Love is spoken about as if it could be possessed.

“Me! Mine!”

We watch people with boundary issues humiliate themselves on national TV and say to ourselves, smugly:

“I would never do that!”

We hear of the downfall of an acquaintance or friend we note:

“I’m better than him/ her!”

Most people, when they think of selfishness, think of the drive to acquire material goods, but there are many other forms of selfishness. Self-righteousness is about holding all the attention we can get, or denying others the possibility of sharing with us in any community. For the fact remains that if your most humiliation or shameful action were written on your forehead, you would pull your cap low. All of us would.

We like to represent ourselves as being noble or “right.” I don’t give a fuck about “right,” I am interested in exploring the many levels of truth. And if I were being truthful to my self, I would note I could never deign to tell someone else what’s appropriate or inappropriate. I was a fuckin criminal at one time, how hypocritical would that be? We like to present to the world this carefully manufactured, oh-so-socially-acceptable image, but God forbid if this pretentious exercise actually included taking yourself out of your comfort zone. Listen champ: what if the status quo you're so desperately trying to mimic needs to be changed in order for a just social order to exist?

The car: Big shit, so you're destroying our ecology in style. The diamonds? Mined by children who don't live past adulthood somewhere in Africa. That iPad? Put together by a pregnant woman in who committed suicide rather than continue to be subjected to work conditions that no civil society would accept. Appropriate? Who the fuck really gives a fuckin good goddam what you deem appropriate?!! Look in the mirror, motherfuckers.

This form of behavior illustrates my point on the drawbacks of hypocrisy and self-righteousness. Simply put, some people see themselves as separate from the rest and they compensate for their perceived lack by labeling others as different or “less than.” Some define themselves almost exclusively by how much different (and better) they are than others. Is this a reality?

I will state right here that I’m not concerned with “convincing” anyone of my worldview. I don't give a fuck about what you consider appropriate. My concern is to explore and attempt to present the truth as well as I can. Most of the idiots who condemn without reason or rhyme will never be convinced of anything except of the forthrightness of their own foolishness. It's a lot like swirling your finger around your anus and proclaiming that stink perfume.

The essential point here, my “larger” heart tells me, is that all of life is fragile and interconnected. We have a more generous spirit when we are in touch with the fact that it is only when we look at the world purely through our ego-driven neuroses, that the world becomes fearful (or "inappropriate"). When we look at things from the perspective of self-righteous indignation we see only a void and the compulsive need to claim to be something better.

My heart also tells me that if there is inequality, then the status quo needs to change. What if social acceptability isn't so goddamned acceptable? My conforming within the confines of social acceptability doesn’t equal growth. Just because I act as a gentleman, doesn’t mean I am evolving as a man, as a human being, as part of the evolutionary process. And don’t tell me I can come to your table only on your terms. That’s bullshit -- hypocritical bullshit.

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery fro civilization…

Friday, May 13, 2011

The Friday Sex Blog [Love Lessons]

¡Hola! Everybody…
Life is about to get "interesting" for this blogger... the waves? The surf is up and the it's getting rough. Wish me luck.

* * *

Love Lessons

“The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.”

Just to set the record straight I am 55 years-old and for most of my adult life, I have been a committed bachelor. I have had countless relationships, many casual, a few serious, but for most of my life, I have been single by choice. I have no regrets. I like it that I’ve been single for that long and consistently. With the exception of one woman, I have never married, though I’ve lived with women over the years. I am not looking for a long-term relationship – nor have I ever.

Does the above sound like a hopeless romantic?


I am as far removed from the archetype of the hopeless romantic as you can get. Women -- women looking for serious relationships -- stay away from me. LOL

Yet the fact remains that you will be hard-pressed to find a more romantic person than yours truly. If you’re the object of my passion, you will feel as if you’re the only woman in the world. I will write poems in your honor, make exquisitely and excruciating slow love to you, perform solitary parades to celebrate your returns, mourn your departures. You will remember our first kiss because the attention to detail devoted to that most anticipated of moments will make you wet with appreciation.

I am not a “good guy.” I’m the man your mother warned you about. You may hate me when it’s all done, but you will remember me.

I have broken countless hearts and have had mine shattered into a million pieces so many times, I no longer even bother trying to put all the jagged shards together. It’s there, this heart of mine – cracked open.


I share all this in the interest of transparency because the one thing I bring to the table is my honesty -- my earnest desire to be as real as I can be. Later you may scandalize me, but you will never be able to say I wasn’t true.

My first kiss was with a girl named Emily. I was twelve years-old and I can remember that dark winter night and the song was playing over her transistor radio (Mellow Yellow). I remember I closed my eyes (I always close my eyes) and I remember we kissed on a dare. We both liked each other, but I was too shy to do anything about it until one of my cousins dared us and we kissed. It was a delicious kiss. My heart thumped. After that first kiss, we would meet every night in that tenement hallway and kiss. One day she let me kiss her nubby breasts, which I kissed tenderly, and another night I ventured and felt the moist wetness between her legs. She moaned…

We almost broke up because my cousin, who was jealous, insisted that a blister on Emily’s lip was some kind of sexual disease (it was a fever blister). Eventually, her mother caught us kissing (on the rooftop), we weren’t allowed to see each other, and when the summer recess came, they moved far away. That was my first heartbreak (and hers).

I was very much a nerd in those days, extremely shy around the opposite sex. Not long after Emily, my first lover, the raven-haired beauty, Victoria ("don't call me Vickie"), our 16-year-old babysitter, came to me in the middle of the night and thrust her hairy pussy onto my face. I remember the pungency of her sex and feeling somewhat confused, until I flicked at her with my tongue and she groaned. We would make love like that for months, until my mother came home early one night (she was working a night shift at a factory) and caught us in the clinch. Victoria wasn't allowed to babysit after that, but it didn't stop us. Many years later, I ran into Victoria and she confessed feeling guilty at having corrupting me, but I assured her that I felt gratitude for having been corrupted by the lovely Victoria. We laughed...

I would fall madly in love at 14 with a girl named Milva. Milva was intelligent, was a writer (or wanted to be one), and was one of the few people who could keep up with me intellectually. When we made love, it was like a poem the way it unfolded. We made love under the boardwalk at Brighton Beach's Pier 6. I loved Milva with all my heart and we were the most popular couple in our high school. Milva had jet-black hair, large and intelligent cherry-brown eyes and a petite but curvy body.

Dang! We were so hot for one another!

Milva left me one day for an “older guy” (someone in college) and that was a devastating loss. It would be a while before I could love again in that completely open and fearless way. Afraid of rejection, of being hurt, I turned to literature and began reading all the “Great Books” of the Western Canon. Having lost at love, I explored my intellectual side and I drank greedily from that cup.

I always moved between the landscapes of my heart and mind and, in many ways, I was in love with love. Towards the end of high school, Milva would return to me, but it was too late. Besides, by then I had Mona, a fierce Milva rival. Mona of the cinnamon colored skin, the insatiable need for sex. God! We spent a torrid summer years after high school in each others arms. She even threw out her husband. We made love everywhere and every which way. Mona was the first woman would gave me her ass willingly. Life was good.

Over the years I searched for the ideal way to love, sometimes through the eyes of that 12-year-old and occasionally with the wisdom of a maturing young man.

We all have a 12-year-old inside, that adolescent boy or girl in search of the perfect love. Our stories may be different, but we bring them into all the aspects of adult relating, influencing our styles of communication, our conceptions of intimacy, our degree of sexual openness, our values, our hopes, and our dreams. And because our stories are different, we sometimes collide, confronted with the inevitable conflicts of love. Until we make these internal stories conscious and become fully willing to explore them with our partners -- with understanding, patience, and compassion – we will never know true intimacy.

Without intimacy, life withers away. As all the great poets have noted, we need each other, deeply, in order to survive. When faced with love, we find ourselves reflected in the eyes of another and, if we’re able, we can grow together through this stormy search for self. Through love, our souls can unfold – like a rare and beautiful flower. We embrace, we discover each other, we grow, but still the mystery remains.

I have never found the perfect love of my idealistic adolescence, but I found something far more rewarding-- my true self. And the voices I’ve encountered along the way -- the books I’ve read, the women I have known, and the stories we’ve shared along the way – these are the seeds from which the man who stands before has grown.

Yo soy el hijo del cariƱo y tambien de la dulzura.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Your Mother Fucks [Happy Mother's Day!]

¡Hola! Everybody...
I’ve been hammering away all weekend at the stereotype of motherhood. First, while some stereotypes have the potential to be positive, there are probably more dangers in stereotyping than we care to admit or realize. I believe stereotypes blinds us from the uniqueness of an individual and serves to categorize them in groups making it easier to maintain assumptions about them. Essentially, a stereotype is a one-size-fits all mental picture that is held in common by members of a group and that represents an oversimplified opinion, prejudiced attitude, or uncritical judgment.

Mothers are human, not gods, or goddesses. They make mistakes, have character flaws, and not all of them are the same, nor do they bring the same talents to the table. I would hazard that many mothers are also sexual beings, engage in fellatio, are not that nurturing, can't cook, or generally have what we as a society have decided are "un-mother-like" attributes.

And we give them one day of the year where we offer bullshit Hallmark platitudes and pigeon-hole them. Then we spend the rest of the year, as individuals and as a society, enacting policies that are often hostile to mothers.
I have more to say on this, but for now I’ll share the following post I came across the other day.

* * *

-=[ The Seven Deadly Stereotypes of Motherhood ]=-

The woman Wonders in Pink shared a list that included the seven most common deadly stereotypes of moms...

Bon Bon-Eating Mom

Stay-at-home moms don't do anything all day but watch TV and eat bon bons. Stay-at-home moms are loving and nurturing but their brains are mush.

Career-Crazed Mom

Working moms are selfish careerists who neglect their kids. Working moms are competent and intelligent but cold and uncaring.


Supermom is the perfect nurturing mom -- always attentive to the kids, doesn't miss a school event, bakes the brownies from scratch -- plus the Do-it-All Mom is the perfect professional career woman -- always available for work, stays on the fast track and makes it to CEO - plus she has a perfect marriage, perfect sex life and perfect kids.

24/7 Bliss Mom

Good mothers love every minute of it, never feel ambivalent, never have a bad day, never yell at their kids, and are always smiling, relaxed and in control.

Long-Suffering/ Martyr Mom (aka Marianismo)

Good mothers always put their family's interests ahead of their own. Good mothers do not have their own needs and interests, and do not seek their own fulfillment.

Glam Mom

Good mothers are glamorous; young, attractive, perfectly fit, designer dressed, perfectly coiffed - and so are their children.

Domestic Goddess Mom

Good mothers love to do housework, are obsessed with cleaning. Only mothers are capable of housework. Good mothers have a spotless house and do everything from scratch; home-cooked meals, perfect birthday parties, and crafts.

For the mothers out there: what stereotype do you think the world sees you as? Which one can you relate to the most?

I will never say I can know what being a mother feels like, but I was the primary caregiver to a child least seven years, and that gave me sense of how little that kind of work is valued. For example, if mothers and motherhood is such a great thing -- something so “divine” “blah, blah, blah... ” then why don’t we pay them? In a capitalist society, I find it odd that a role that’s considered primal, is not valued, economically speaking. In fact, most people would consider such a proposition absurd, and those people make my point.

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization...

Postscript: Not that I would claim insight into what being a mother actually entails, but I was a stay-at-home father and primary care-giver for a child for several years..

Friday, May 6, 2011

The Sexual Subversive [The Erotic Imagination]

¡Hola! Everybody…
I’m currently trying out for different jobs, so wish me luck. One would entail moving to DC… yikes! LOL

If it’s Friday, it has to be about s-e-x!

* * *

-=[ The Erotic Imagination ]=-

Erotic behavior is complex, often misunderstood, often feared, but the complexities of the erotic imagination are eve more so. We can (and do) create rules for the regulation and social control of erotic behavior; we can (and do) develop social conventions and laws with various punishments for what is considered sexually transgressive behavior. They make us all feel reassured and “safe.” But despite all the energy we invest in limiting erotic practice, erotic imagination travels its own path, most often to the very themes we deem forbidden, bizarre, even perverse. If Eros is the archetype of a rash, irrepressible, rebellious trouble maker, he seems most uncontrollable when he enters the realm of the imagination.

The sensationalist, distorted, hysterical language that dominates the political and social dialogue of erotic art and pornography reflect the cultural fear and confusion about our essential erotic natures. We equate the symbolic content of our erotic fantasies, dreams, or works of art with the literal intention to enact the fantasy. In no other area of imagination do we so fear confusing fantasy with reality.

For example, if you wake up from a dream of leaping off a cliff and suddenly soaring effortlessly through space, you would not imagine that you’re in danger of killing yourself by leaping off a cliff while awake. However, if you dream of being sexual in a subversive way, say by being sexual with a prohibited partner (the person next door, a colleague at work, a family member), you may likely fear there is something dangerously wrong with you. If a man fantasizes of being at a luxurious estate, surrounded by opulence and all the creature comforts, he may likely smile at the creativeness of his imagination. But if he becomes similarly excited imagining elaborate scenes in which one glamorous woman after another desires to have wild sex with him (as is typical of male masturbatory fantasy), he will probably be told (or tell himself) that he is a sex addict, a potential rapist, someone with an unconscious desire to dominate or degrade women -- someone who should be fundamentally fearful of his sexual desires.

That we perceive and react to sex-related imagination so differently from other forms of creativity is indicative of our culturally programmed and deep-seated fear of pour erotic impulse and its herald, erotic imagination. We experience these as dangerous forces which must be kept reigned in, under constant control, lest they destroy the very foundation of our seemingly rational, orderly lives.

The tragedy and harm is that when we impose reasonableness on our erotic desires and dreams, or ascribe literal accuracy on erotic fantasies, photographs, and art, we deny our erotic complexity, and lose a huge part of erotic self empowerment, energy, and spontaneity. We become “good” boys and girls, seeking the approval of our parents, friends, society, but at a tremendous cost to ourselves. If we cannot tolerate our forbidden erotic thoughts and desires, if we cannot trust ourselves to separate fantasy from reality, thought from overt action, when it comes to erotic and sexual matters, we by necessity from much of the natural wellspring of erotic power.

It is possible, however, to step back from this culturally exaggerated fear of eros and to ask real questions about and to explore how erotic fantasy and imagination actually function. We can learn to address the erotic imagination on its own irrational, symbolic, and psychological terms. When we do this, we then become capable of appreciating not only our own fantasies but also the works of erotic art and literature, just as we appreciate other creative works -- separating fiction from fact, art from life. By creating psychological space for fantasy as fantasy, we can begin to understand and enjoy how wonderfully creative our erotic imagination can be, and to derive pleasure from the assorted fruits of its inventiveness.

Until recently, before the advent of the internet, there were two major public forums for sexually explicit imagination. The most widespread is commercial pornography -- the traditional medium in our culture for the public exploration of sexual fantasy. Because we have ghettoized the creation of sexually arousing material to an underground outlaw subculture, commercial pornography is, for the most part, formulaic, trivializing, and filled with gender and racial stereotypes, and almost universally male-oriented. I should note, however, that with the advent of the video and the internet, pornography has become more widespread with an audience that includes almost as many women as men, and it has (admittedly to a very small degree) become more joyous and sex friendly. Besides, the biggest consumers of video porn (in the U.S.) are people from some of the most religiously repressive Red States. Cyber interactions have also served to change pornography with “cougars” and men exchanging sexually explicit photographs, expanding the form in terms of amateur photographs.

However, I feel the most important development of public sexual expression in recent years has blossomed, is quite distinct from commercial pornography in its aesthetics, its content, and its general perception of sexuality and gender roles, and also its network of distribution. We have begun to see for the first time some measure legitimacy being given to sexual art, writing, and photography. My friend and poet, Puma Perl, for example, explores the outer fringes of the erotic imagination in her performance pieces, and she’s not alone. These new forms of sexual art go beyond pornographic conventions to offer complex, creative expressions of sexual themes and practices. Although serious artistic respect for sex-related art is still incubating, increasing numbers of talented artists and writers have begun to address sexual issues in their work, to defend the legitimacy and importance of a wide range of sexual themes, and to wrestle with the often elusive artistic questions raised by the erotic imagination.

The issues addressed by such artist are crucial in a growing cultural climate of sexual and political intolerance. Despite the current obstacles, growing numbers of artists are challenging the sexual status quo and do we ever need it. The alternative is to devolve into a postmodern nightmare of a sexually repressive (and dangerous) Victorian era. And may the gods help us all if that happens.



Monday, May 2, 2011

Right Wing Authoritarians [Torture is Good for You]

¡Hola! Everybody...
I am not the greatest Obama supporter, in fact I believe there are legitimate critiques of his policies -- especially his (mostly wrong-headed conservative) economic policy decisions. However, much of the right-wing criticism of Obama is fueled by hatred and, yes, racism. I quantify that last assertion here, but today I find myself SMDH at the revolting scumbags on the right. I mean, they have no sense of fuckin decency, no fuckin shame at all. I believe these cretins would fuck their own mothers over without a second thought...

* * *

-=[ Torture is Good for You ]=-

Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that. Hate Multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction.

-- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. p 53, The Strength to Love, 1963

First things first. It seems there’s a mini storm over the above quote by MLK. The quote, with the leading line, I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy... went viral immediately after the news of the murder of Osama Bin Laden was released. A rather irresponsible article penned by Megan McArdle at The Atlantic, noted that after having Googled said quote, she couldn’t find verification. Therefore, the reporter surmised, the quote isn’t accurate, and MLK never said it.

Actually, as I have correctly cited, the quote is a genuine MLK quote. What isn’t part of the quote, is the first line and here’s what happened. The sentiment was first posted as a Facebook status, and it read (verbatim):

I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy, “Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” -- mlk [emphasis added]

Note the placement of the quotation marks. As the status was repeated, the quotes were misplaced, giving the impression that the leading sentence -- the sentence not part of the MLK quote -- was attributed to MLK. This then led other reporters, bloggers, commenters to assert that MLK never said it. And that’s a false conclusion. But the larger point here is that journalists are doing a piss-poor job of research. Indeed, the research can be found in the comments section of The Atlantic article. Has this journalist ever heard of... books? Direct sources? *The article has been picked in places like the WashPo, The CS Monitor, and if you Google the first line, you’ll easily get 50-60k hits (the last time I looked).

This is bullshit, lazy, hack writing, plain and simple.

Now on to the important stuff...

I guess it was to be expected. No sooner than the news of OBL’s assassination was released, that the right wing cretins went into feces flingin’ mode, and started patting themselves in the back for the deed. What’s that? Yes, the Bush administration spent trillions, sent us to two unnecessary wars where about 50,000 of our men and women were killed or maimed, and spent almost a decade without even getting close to OBL, but Bush should be given the honors. Obama is just the lawn jockey. he can’t possibly be smart enough to capture/ kill OBL, right?

Except that it isn’t true. In fact, only six months after 9/11, The Village Idiot publicly admitted he was no longer concerned about OBL. Let’s take it to the videotape, Johnny:

Spin that bitches. More importantly, Bush shut down the CIA unit weighted with the responsibility of capturing Bin Laden. Guess who opened it up again? Yup... Obama.

As I understand it, Bush depended almost exclusively on the Pentagon more than the intelligence community, which is why we cannot credit him with this specific form of strategy. I think it’s a real stretch (or... bullshit!) for the right wing twats to try to include Bush in this. Obama issued the order and he took all the risks. If it hadn’t gone well, you can be sure these racist sons of bitches would've attempted to lynch him on the White House lawn. This wasn’t an on-going operation; the operation, in fact, had been abandoned and this team, which was working under Leon Panetta, and Obama had five meetings about this after August. Bush was not involved.

One more thing, the next time some inbred, right-wing, twat motherfucker © tells you, “The soldiers, and only the soldiers, should get credit because they were the ones that were on the ground fighting,” let them know that Bush’s “Mission Accomplished” debacle was a failure not because he didn’t fight, but because the mission was not accomplished. In this case, Obama’s mission was accomplished and as it was the Commander in Chief who ordered the hit and helmed the high-level meetings about it, he gets credit for it. Yes, the President was in charge of the plan and no, it doesn’t matter that they don’t think he was.

Presidents are not supposed to be involved in the fighting. Something the inbred right-wing twat motherfuckers © might want to brush up on their history to understand why. It has something to do with civilian leadership of the military. Civilian control of the military is the proper subordination of a professional military to the ends of policy as determined by civilian authority (the civilian authority being the U.S. President). The civilian authority (our President) issues policy statements that are then implemented by the military. In this instance, the President had five high-level meetings in which he directed the implementation of the strategy. The President doesn’t go into the field to fight. The “gun” does not command the country for obvious reasons. This is how your country operates. It is how it is intended to operate. I gather that the inbred right-wing twat motherfuckers © would like to change this, but thankfully for us all, they are not in charge.

But that’s not even what’s truly important here. What really gets to me, what uncovers the naked Right Wing Authoritarianism in its naked ugliness is that they are now trying to use Obama’s accomplishment as justification for torture. The morning after President Obama announced that Osama bin Laden had been killed in Pakistan, the inbred, right-wing, twat motherfuckers © started crowing that credit should be given to Bush for having the foresight and courage to torture the people who provided the intel that led the CIA to OBL’s McMansion in Islamabad.

The meme began circulating Monday based on one important piece of the larger puzzle: several years ago, intelligence agencies obtained the pseudonym of OBL’s favorite courier from Khalid Sheikh Mohammed and Abu Faraj al-Libi. Inbred, right-wing, twat motherfuckers © and like-minded activists -- including notorious chickenhawks Dick Cheney, Karl Rove, and others, jumped to a conclusion: U.S. officials gained the information via torture.

Except, for one minor detail: that’s not what happened.

None other than infirm incompetent, Donald Rumsfeld (of all people), disputed the talking point yesterday on the right wing propaganda site, Newsmax, noting that Bush-era torture policies weren’t responsible for obtaining the information.

The Associated Press thoroughly dismantled this lie, reporting, “Mohammed did not reveal the names while being subjected to the simulated drowning technique known as waterboarding, former officials said. He identified them many months later under standard interrogation.” [emphasis added]

In this way, the strongest rationale for giving Bush any props for this falls apart like a house of cards or a Heritage Foundation economic theory.

Joan McCarter, Marcy Wheeler, and Brian Buetler have more on this, offering an even more detailed take down of the argument. For example, the case can be made that torture delayed procurement of important intel. What’s truly at stake here is not just about who should get credit (it’s Obama’s, for good or bad), but the spinning of one of the darkest moments of our history -- a time in which elected officials brazenly trumpeted war crimes -- as something noble or even effective. It wasn’t noble then and it still isn’t.

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization...

* All the articles getting the MLK quote wrong did publish updates, but still. It’s unprofessional...


[un]Common Sense