So, It’s Been Awhile…

Those of you who check this defunct collection of ramblings have likely given up on me.  I don’t blame you, I’ve been gone awhile.  Six or seven months, give or take.  I haven’t been terribly busy, just terribly uninspired.  

I’m torn on the concept of blogging.  I like it, and I like doing it, but sometimes I just don’t feel like it.  I try to talk about greater issues, so as to interest a greater number of people.  No one wants to hear about my mom or my homework or my dwindling bank account.  People might want to hear about my scandalous sexual escapades and wild fantasies, but I feel weird sharing them because a lot of people who read this would know who I’m talking about.  Sharing that sort of thing would be rude, and in poor taste.  That said, I can still say things that are in poor taste.  So here is a random collection of my most obnoxious opinions.

But before that, I should welcome 2009 to…Earth.  

I had a good 2008.  It had its sad moments and unhappy hours.  It had its tears, but it had many, many joys.  On a serious note, I can honestly say that this was one of the best years of my life.  I learned so much, and accomplished things (little things, but things nonetheless).  I outgrew some bad habits and developed some good ones (and a few more bad ones, perhaps).  I met an incredible guy, and made many new and wonderful friends.  I may have lost some too, and I won’t forget that either.  

I lost that 15 pounds I’d be whining about since high school, I got over a startling personal disappointment, and I went back to school.  I wasn’t always in the best of moods, but I was in the best of places.  I spent 2007 nursing disappointments and grievances, and 2008 made up for all of it.  I can only hope that this year as good as the last.

Here’s to good times, good friends, good memories, and great loves.  

As for my obnoxious opinions, here they be:

I hate people with dumb “artistic” opinions.  These people tend to be young, but they can be old.  They can even be me, at times, but hopefully not often.

While traveling on a streetcar back in October, I heard two 15-ish year old girls talking about Hedley.  They were discussing that, “we’re putting out fires and changing car tires” song – things no members of Hedley do or will likely do…ever.  The great top 40 summer hit about being a working stiff reminiscing about high school, it seems, is deeper than meets the…ear.

“I don’t really like the song that much,” said one girl, “but, like, I really like the message, you know?”

No, I don’t know.  There is no “message” in that song.  None.  It’s about nothing.  

None of the members of Hedley are old enough to mourn their youth, and I’d wager that their lives now are far better than the ones they led in high school.  Oh, and they don’t put out fires, nor would they likely have to change their own tires.  

Onto Barack Obama…

I like Obama.  I was glad when he won.  In fact, I was overjoyed.  You don’t need to be American to celebrate this change in American political winds.  He’s young, he’s black, he’s charismatic, he’s eloquent, he’s interesting.  

He hasn’t given anyone reason to believe that he’s a communist, fascist, dictator, child molester, satanist or, as Jon Stewart said, witch.  He’s not even particularly revolutionary as far as American politics go.  He has a relatively socially liberal voting record, but social liberalism isn’t viewed by most first-world nations as all that radical.  A lot of countries pay no mind to abortion and gay marriage, and those countries haven’t been struck by God-sent meteors, nor have they been swallowed up by hell.  I bet you $2 that they won’t be (I’d bet more, but I’m broke, and broke people must be frugal).  

He said, “spread the wealth,” not, “impose upon the people a system that will guarantee no one makes more than $10 an hour, regardless of whether or not he/she sells coffee or operates on hearts.”  

Are these people serious?  Honestly?

I suspect that those who deal with little oppression crave it, just so they can protest and feel heroic – Like Sean Penn or Clint Eastwood.  I’d almost be willing to bet a sum larger than $2 that should real war, violence and oppression settle on North American soil, all of those nationalists would flee, if possible, to the libertine cesspool across the Atlantic.  

Also, that study that linked sexy TV shows to teen pregnancies?

No, the correlation between such things needs to be examined more closely, and other factors need to be taken into account.  The most damning argument is the fact that the teen pregnancy rate in the Netherlands is 5 per 1000, while the United States boasts a 50 per 1000 rate.  The Netherlands is home to the city of Amsterdam, a tourist hotspot with legal brothels, live sex shows, and stores that sell the most disgusting and horrific pornography ever made (women with horses, horses with men, women with armed rapists, women with open wounds, etc).  

Why the disparity?  If a sex-saturated culture guaranteed young parenthood, why aren’t European countries overrun with teenage mothers?  

Because people aren’t as uptight about sex.  They don’t shriek about the dangers of comprehensive sex-ed (which does not include teaching five year olds how to give blowjobs, trust me), they don’t call bare breasts “obscene,” and they don’t promote puritanical values while using erotic ads to entice people to buy drain cleaner.  The hypocritical disconnect between actions and theories, and the denial of the importance of supplying teens with adequate knowledge of contraceptive options leads to teen pregnancies.  Let’s not blame HBO.  

Speaking of pop culture, here’s my take on quality entertainment:

Good TV shows:  I’m flighty about TV, I have a hard time committing to shows.  However, my favourites for this year were True Blood and Summer Heights High.  One’s a vampire drama (one with hot and graphic sex scenes) and the other a hysterical satire of life at an Australian high school.  It’s not as over-the-top as it seems, and that’s what’s great about it.  Everyone has met a Ja’mie or two…or three.  

I don’t have much to say about movies, but I will say that this year re-invigorated my interest in literature.  I read a lot, which was nice.  I didn’t read much upon graduating from university, probably because I was temporarily tired of learning.  My favourite book(s)?

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen.  An entertaining and engaging look at circus life during the Great Depression.  It has cliche dramatic elements – an affair, a cruel husband, a gang of tough workers hailing from the school of hard knocks, betrayal, suspense, etc.  It also has insight into an exciting industry struggling to thrive during tough times, and those who survived and those who did not (and those who did not deserve to).  

As Forrest Gump would say, that’s all I have to say about that.

Enjoy the New Year, everyone.

It Appears that the Devil is Talking out of Your Ass Again

I understand that it’s unwise – unacceptable, even – to make giant blanket statements about complicated social issues.  In life, there are few absolutes.  In the end, it’s all about context, theory and rhetoric.  If you can argue a point well enough, you’ll get supporters in your corner.  Someone else will get other supporters in theirs.  Then you can argue forever, which will make your life more interesting (if not exhausting).

 However, there are some arguments that cannot (and should not) ever hold H20.

 Such as the argument that God – yes, God – wants you spank the ever-living shit out of your wayward, irrational, child-like wife. 

Behold:

www.christiandomesticdiscipline.com

A site dedicated to affirming that it’s perfectly all right – desirable even – to institute an authoritative, dogmatic hierarchy in your household and allot one person (the old male person) the right to physically assault those who, like, give him dirty looks and refuse to smile when he farts at the dinner table. 

This “lifestyle” is for two types of people.

1) Kinky people

2) Abusive people

There’s no in between, make no mistake of that.  If you long to slap the naked ass of a grown woman for hours at a time, you’re either a run-of-the-mill S&M enthusiast or an asshole. 

If you’re a woman who loves the feel of a hard hand against your ass for hours on end, you’re a run-of-the-mill S&M enthusiast or a passive victim of domestic violence. 

If a woman feels that bad moods are manifestations of demonic possessions (or ungodliness) and decides that she needs the beasts expelled through a little over-the-knee “tough love”, she’s a kinky girl into submission.

Spanking is a common sexual practise (I wouldn’t even call it much of a fetish anymore).  People, generally fearful of finding themselves in humiliating and demoralizing situations (like corporal punishment), sometimes cope with their discomfort by eroticizing it.  If you like what’s being done to you, you haven’t relinquished your autonomy.  You’ve requested seemingly inhumane treatment, and therefore it’s titillating rather than mortifying.  Women are not the only people who do this, men do it too (that’s why there’s such a thing as a dominatrix). 

For most (I hope) of these spank-happy couples, their means of keeping the peace is probably more about obtaining sexual thrills – and there’s nothing wrong with that in and of itself.  What’s wrong is the pitiful, misogynistic posturing.

“God wants female subjugation, and the only way to achieve it is by instituting blatantly (but not admittedly) erotic punishments for derelict wives/girlfriends.”

I haven’t read the bible from cover to cover, but I doubt God, Moses, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John or Jesus every said any such thing. 

Religion is notoriously good that shaming its followers for having sexual desires, especially desires that stray off the rigid and narrow path of “normal.”  Though S&M (lighter aspects, of course) has become more and more popular, it’s still a fringe movement, practised in different ways by different people.  It’s not something everyone – particularly those closely associated with Christian denominations – would readily admit to dabbling in.  So how does a devout follower of a pure deity come to terms with his or her taste for painful foreplay? 

By cloaking their fetish in theological rhetoric.  They justify their kink by claiming it’s not inherently sexual, but innately spiritual.  Spanking is the best way a man and a woman can maintain the “natural” power imbalance in their marriage.  However, those intent on dominating their spouse would probably choose physical and emotional coercion over a relatively well-known sex act.  

Another argument could be that, in a case where one or both partners is not getting hard/wet at the prospect of a thorough “punishment”, the dominant partner is instituting a troublesome power imbalance sustained by genuinely painful “corrective procedures” that provide the abuser with a false sense of comfort.  If the punitive measures are approved by Christian domestic discipline enthusiasts, then they can’t be manifestations of one partner’s very real desire to threaten, frighten, and abuse the other.  So for people afraid to risk the legal/moral/philosophical/spiritual repercussions of routinely assaulting their spouse, they have some wiggle room with “consensual” anti-egalitarian power dynamics. 

Either way, there’s no pure motive for needing or wanting a defined and continuous sub/Dom relationship within a 21st century marriage.  You’re either kinky (which is cool), or you feel entitled to abusing your partner/feel you deserve abuse (not so cool, I don’t think). 

Perhaps this “lifestyle” has provided a safe haven for good Christian girls to act out desires they’ve had since adolescence without fear of social reprisal. I’ll bet a lot of them like to accidentally spray their husband with the garden hose when he’s on his way to work, and immediately blame Satan and claim they can feel him coiling up inside their pulsating nether regions when all they wanted to do was tend to their beautiful, feminine rose garden under the warm morning sunshine.  I’m sure they enjoy the warm morning sunshine beating against their bedroom windows while they promise to be “good girls” while rubbing against their godly man’s thigh. 

Their godly man no doubt likes his wife’s naked ass, or he just likes giving someone bruises.   

I hate to make a blanket statement, but there probably isn’t much in between. 

In case you think I might be mistaken, and that a desire to be closer to God is what compels couples to commit to spanking-filled marriage, check out this website:

http://lovingdd.blogspot.com

Once you sift through the user comments about the benefits of “forced” nudity, genital slaps and nipple pinches, you’ll see where I’m coming from.

Dickipedia, and Other Assorted Discourse

First off, here’s a website you all must see:

 http://dickipedia.org/index.php?title=Main_Page

It’s a small but poingnant listing of dicks, or rather men (and only men at this point, but that could change) who embody dickish qualities.  My favourite entry is probably Bill O’Reilly’s, mostly for its mention of his sexual fixation on loofahs (or “felafel’s”). 

Actually, if you’re not made too uncomfortable by transcripts of unwanted sexual advances made over the phone, search for Papa Bear on The Smoking Gun.  

The man who believes sexual immorality to be a scourge on America harasses female employees with awkward references to vibrators, “spectacular boobs”, and food inserted into incorrect orifices.

Actually, with the various outings of various “moral” persons, one is led to question whether a declaration of purity is an ironic way of saying, “I’m into shit you haven’t even heard of.”

On a less sexual/judgmental note, I have a confession to make.

I saw No Country for Old Men and did not enjoy it. 

Every once in awhile, a movie comes along that drives people wild – in a good way.  They declare it a masterpiece, a beautiful example of fine and intelligent cinema.  A profound display of artistry and brilliance.  No Country for Old Men is one of these films – and I did not like it.

Honestly, I thought it was boring.  I realize that the Coen brothers were going for understated and intense, and they succeeded.  The film is both of those things.  It’s also unbearably slow.  The more it meandered, the less I cared about the sluggish characters it trailed for two agonizing hours.  Watching the film was akin to be pulled, slowly, in a very old wagon attached to a very old horse clomping down a very long and narrow dirt road. 

The film contains clever (and in some cases, memorable) dialogue.  It feels natural, despite the fact that it was likely constructed carefully and diligently.  It’s the kind of dialogue that most (or perhaps all) screenwriters want to master.  It’s terse, laconic, and meaningful in a subtle kind of way.  It conveys, successfully, the fictitious thoughts of fictitious men who are vastly different from most fictitious action/western heroes and villains.  They’re hardened and eccentric people, but not pseudo-masculine like the Dirty Harry’s of old.

The preview had me at, “what’s the most you ever lost in a coin toss.”  Unfortunately, the movie itself lost me early on.

I will say this much, Javier Bardem’s performance is as good as his dancing is poor:

http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qn4155/is_20050202/ai_n9504897

As far as entertainment goes, I highly recommend the unique rock/electronica music of Holy Fuck.  It’s all instrumental, and it’s all fabulous.  It’s sexy, in a soul-freeing kind of way.  It’s the kind of music that makes you want to embrace public nudity and celebrate the art of unpolished, spiritually-soothing-yet-wildly-awkward dancing.  It’s arousing in the same way a smart-but-kinda-ugly person is arousing.  I deeply love its soul.