A Turbulent Historic Moment in Compulsions of the Privileged
Never Underestimate the Powerlessness of the Stupid
The woman in this picture won’t sleep with you, nor will any of her friends
Not solely because she’s a wooden sex toy, bound-up/trussed-up for your use and pleasure in BDSM fantasies as you stare at her from across your basement bedroom in your mom’s house — NO, it’s because you’re an Anti-vaxxer, a pro-Trumpster, some other kind of Steve Bannon-looking fascist pig-creep, an anti-science moron who thinks Dr. Fauci is abhorrent but that Rand Paul is a real smooth mover, an open-carry gun-nut with a micro-penis, an idiot with bad credit and no money who nonetheless, eats shitty, fattening over-priced food purchased at shitty fast food restaurants five and a half days a week, drives a pick-up truck with huge, yellow “Don’t Tread on Me” Flag sticking outta the truck bed, thinks whites are superior to blacks including bein’ better than that Kenyan Manchurian POTUS who ruined the country for eight years by wanting us all to be miscegenation homosexuals and taking all our guns and giving all our tax dollars to ISIS and black teen gangsters (b/c “what about black-on-black crimes!?”) and baby-murdering libtards and such — NOPE; the wooden girl of your dreams and fantasies ain’t gonna fuck any of you INCEL losers, nor are any live-action versions of Betty White in her prime or any RL woman gonna fuck you either.
On the plus side, Gallop says there are more and more of you pathetic losers jerking one another off every day — so, yeah, you got that goin’ for you.
But on the plus side there are more and more of you pathetic losers jerking one another off every day —
so, yeah, you got that goin’ for you.
Whatever Happened to Jared?
No, not that creepy Ivanka one . . . the Subway sandwich guy?
You “meet” a new friend online, someone who encourages you to accept your needs, inclinations, and to believe that regardless of what the world says, you have “a right to your feelings.” And this voice coming from outside yourself, accepting you in all your shades of shame, different-from-social-norms, and the full range of your tastes and desires, lowers your ability to resist your darkest impulses because in them you are not alone any longer. This is NOT to say that your attraction to unsavory, bad things is any less offensive to the rest of the world than it would be otherwise.
That’s not the point.
The point is that the foundation of your moral constructs must be based on a far deeper, even mysterious, core of ethical being. And when your new confidant turns out to be in cahoots with the FBI and you are arrested and prosecuted and incarcerated and you are no longer a pitch man for personally getting skinny by eating nothing but Subway sandwiches, it will be too late then to understand that the apparent support and understanding of some other soul has little to do with the necessity to understand what’s right and wrong for you and in the world.
Right Jared?
The Cos Walks Free, Watch Your Drinks Ladies
Let’s combine these two pieces, into one big Cos Cluster Fuck/Rape Analysis of sorts...
What I sentimentally wish were true.
I told our son Jesse to put us third on his list in his decision about where to go for Thanksgiving; after all, he has his girlfriend and his mom (divorced from me) and other people who love him too. But he’s decided to come and spend 4 days with us, and I’m feeling like I felt when he was 10 years old — ridiculously sentimental.
My son is a fine human being with a warm heart and an easy laugh; I love and adore him. As I’m contemplating all this without warning and absent any logic or reason, I think about Bill Cosby. Naturally the first thought is him drugging all those women so he could rape them. But right after that I think about his son being murdered on that L.A. freeway and about Cosby in the aftermath of that loss, alone at night, in the dark thinking about his dead boy. And lying in my own darkness I can imagine that father wondering, was it his own sins that created this loss? Or going the opposite direction, feeling that there’s no way the universe could be fair or right if his son is murdered.
So Cosby decides to do whatever the fuck he wants do to escape his pain, and this includes: Drink-up, ladies, I’ll wake you when it’s over.” As Cosby grew old, he seemed to want to see the world as if it were that Normal Rockwell Thanksgiving painting Freedom From Want. All these happy white people sitting around the big table while Granny brings out the 18-pound roasted bird. Coz had spent years telling everyone how to wear their pants and how to behave, like an angry grandpa full of moral outrage. And suddenly I remember again that Jesse will be coming home to spend Thanksgiving with Patti and me and I almost weep in gratitude, relief, and that gentle, soft, joy at how lovely life can be in between all the horrors of it.
What I cynically believe and suspect is far closer to reality.
Slipping a woman a “Roofie”
As a man writing under my real name and not interested in being castigated or crucified, even if for just cause, let me assure one and all that I’ve never slipped a woman a knockout drug, so that when she’s unconscious I can have sex with her. Call me old-fashioned or romantic, (although I don’t think I’m either), but I’ve always preferred the woman I’m with to be awake and have some idea of what she’s (we’re) doing. That said, I have a theory that might be bullshit but probably isn’t as to why a guy might engage in this ‘roofie’ approach. Sex is often partially and/or sometimes completely unrelated to ‘love. ’ An additional reason why men and women have sex is for the man to feel powerful and the woman to feel protected, and for the man to feel he deserves this power and for the woman to feel that she deserves to be protected. If in the midst of their intimacy (although according to my theory Intimacy’ doesn’t play a big role in this) so let’s re-phrase: if in the midst of their having sex, the man wants to engage in conduct that he knows holds no likelihood of pleasure for her, and if she is likely to stop him from doing these things he wants to do, the whole power-rush for him is ruined. and since this is a dance of denial and misplaced/misunderstood motivations sex is wrecked for both parties, in its sudden ending. His frustration and disappointment will be felt by her, and all sense for her of feeling protected will disappear also. Quite a dilemma, huh? If he slips her the drug and she passes out he has total control and power over her. If when she awakens and he confesses to having ‘made love’ to her while she was, in essence, comatose, especially if he claims he just couldn’t resist her overpowering allure and gorgeousness even if, to be honest, she drooled a bit through her REM condition — by accepting his explanation she can revel in her irresistible beauty and still feel protected, unless and until he actually posts the video of her posed in all kinds of unconscious-woman erotic positions. etc. on XXX-Facebook. So there you have it. why else would you slip a woman a roofie so you can have sex with her while she’s unconscious? Unless you’re a necrophiliac, in which case a lot of this still applies. I’m not suggesting that there is towering moral goodness at work in any of this. I’m not a moralist, telling people what they should say/ do/feel/how they should behave. My own moral conduct is anything but above reproach, but slipping someone a mickey to get my rocks off? Nope — hasn’t ever happened for me. (And I’ve never been with a hooker either, but now I’m just bragging).
What’a you think Cos?
Am I close?
Ballpark?
Maybe we should go ask a children’s neo-classic cartoon character; maybe Fat Albert would know?
Master of Suspense, My Ass
Not to be disrespectful, but...
Thinking of Alfred Hitchcock
Rotund, unattractive in almost all ways, but most assuredly sexually unattractive: he flirted wildly with young gorgeous actresses, some of the most physically beautiful women, known to the world in large part thanks to his films in which they starred.
Ingrid Bergman, Grace Kelly, Tippi Hedren, so many others.
The story goes that he wanted total control of them and that he demanded everything sexual from them except any kind of sex itself:
Obedience, courtesy, deference devotion, blind and complete submissiveness and trust.
As I get older and my libido slows, I still think about sex too much, far more than I wish I did.
But finally, I kind of get it Hitch, the fantasy that we are so infinitely loveable that orgasm needn’t be part of the equation.
Feeling power is enough.
I get it Hitch, or at least I think I do and wish surely I didn’t.
The Cosby School of Bartending
During these times in Incel-justified homicides etc., a second look at old-school date rape
Chemical Comatose Love
As a man writing under my real name and not interested in being castigated or crucified, even if for just cause, let me assure one and all that I’ve never slipped a woman a knockout drug, so that when she’s unconscious I can have sex with her. Call me old-fashioned or romantic, (although I don’t think I’m either), but I’ve always preferred the woman I’m with to be awake and have some idea of what she’s (we’re) doing. That said, I have a theory that might be bullshit as to why a guy might engage in this ‘roofie’ approach. Sex is often partially and/or sometimes completely unrelated to ‘love. ’
Sometimes men and women have sex for the man to feel powerful and the woman to feel protected, and for the man to feel he deserves this power and for the woman to feel that she deserves to be protected. If in the midst of their intimacy (although according to my theory intimacy’ doesn’t play a big role in this) so let’s re-phrase: if during sex, the man wants to engage in conduct that he knows holds no likelihood of pleasure for her, and she is likely to stop him from doing the things he wants to do, the whole power rush is ruined. And since this is a dance of denial and misplaced/misunderstood motivations sex is wrecked for both parties, in its sudden ending. His frustration and disappointment will be felt by her, and all sense for her of feeling protected will disappear also.
Quite a dilemma, huh?
If he slips her the drug and she passes out, he has total control and power over her. If when she awakens, and he confesses to having ‘made love’ to her while she was, in essence, comatose, especially if he claims he just couldn’t resist her overpowering allure and gorgeousness even if, to be honest, she drooled a bit through her rem condition — by accepting his explanation she can revel in her irresistible beauty and still feel protected, unless and until he actually posts the video of her posed in all kinds of unconscious-woman erotic positions. Etc. On xxx-twitter. So there you have it. Why else would you slip a woman a roofie so you can have sex with her while she’s unconscious? Unless you’re a necrophiliac, in which case, a lot of this still applies. I’m not suggesting that there is towering moral goodness at work in any of this. I’m not a moralist, telling people what they should say/ do/feel/how they should behave. My own moral conduct is anything but above reproach, but slipping someone a mickey to get my rocks off? Nope — hasn’t ever happened for me. (And I’ve never been with a hooker either, but now I’m just bragging). Whata you think Bill Cosby? Am I close? Ballpark? Maybe we should go ask a children’s neo-classic cartoon character; maybe Fat Albert would know? Course, he may be too busy working on a new angle, maybe a COVID-gym franchise or a remake of the dating game.
RIP Betty White
She was always cooler than us!!!
Originally, I had a cute B&W pic, circa early 1950’s of Betty and smiling straight into the camera. But I’ve decided to replace that one after all, Betty reminds me of my mom, whose last word to me, from her literal death bed, was “Bullshit” with a tiny smile, as the morphine kicked back in.
“You don’t luck into integrity. You work at it. ~Betty White
Betty lived to 99 years old and died the day before the year she’d have turned 100.
Talk about timing.
She had it in spades.
All.
Her.
Life.
Butterflies are like women – we may look pretty and delicate, but baby, we can fly through a hurricane.
RIP Betty White.
With full love and respect!
Actor Betty White in 1956. Hulton Archive
