Jaded and Lonely

Someone’s Slave?

Kathleen entered the room.  A sense of dread is now pervading her thoughts.  Finally,  when M,aster Carl looks at her,  there is no real recognition, just a look of loathing.   Immediately,  she is lost.  Time stalls. Afraid to comment she waits for an answer,  anything remotely resembling clarification.   

He says she needs to go,  that she is a slave with no alternatives,  no expectations,  just a tired look of contempt.   She takes what little she has. Penniless and jaded, she walks the streets, head down from conditioning, a caldera of loneliness.

 

 

Her social deficits and homelessness weigh heavily upon her mind. At a loss, she sees herself as a peripheral player, as a person acclimated to punishment prostituted and jeered at, at sex parties,  as Carl looks at her derisively.   Suddenly she realizes that she is broken to the point where she feels like a dumpster.  Human but only marginally so.   

One alternative and only one,  with no person to talk to.  Bubbles swell in a dead pool, of foolish expectations, convinced her man in black,  is a fraud.   This she floats in a river going nowhere.  Marked with lashes and the taste of cum,  her fate was scripted, from the start.

images (5)

Sexism. Same as it ever was. Same as it will ever be. Unless!

I saw a blog that needs some kudos and some elaboration.    While we have lots of new stories and a lot of laws we get little else.   And for those who make it a feminist issue only you need to check into the Betty Ford Clinic because you are part of the problem.    The blog below is good because it hits upon the very nexus that is needed to effect real change.

http://feministssa.com/2015/02/23/why-the-casual-sexism-at-uct-matters/#comment-11887

“Any man that alludes to women as whore. sluts or any of those terms piss me off. It is sexism at it’s worse and women who use those words are committing the same act of sexism.

Why does it matter? Is liking asking she asked for ‘it’. We had this debate about 20 years ago when a Miami prostitute was wearing see-through clothes. The rapists said she was asking for ‘it’.

I called the radio station and claimed that women were and are subject to an “inherent sexual bias”. In effect saying that guys can be whores but that girls really are. Words do matter and young children may begin to repeat the lies.

Is it any wonder then that we excuse this? Is it any wonder that a rape happens then the rapist is allowed to barter legally and the best a woman can get is a civil suit?

So, at the end of the day what has changed? Laws look pretty like the “whores” they allege to protect. I use that term for effect since it is the continued and prevailing attitude among males and our system of jurisprudence.

Look at rape or any other form of abuse and we get laws. Nothing but a cash crop with a bunch of broken women and the harassment associated with just going with the flow.

This is a good blog because it underscores in sexual terms a kind of free-floating bias against victims.”

The comment above is one I made in response and the one below the one case that I was alluding to from Florida.   How does this happen and how will it change the future?  In another case an immigrant was assaulted and justice was served but the underlying issue was “she deserved it”.

http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/2010/12/vanishing-blonde-201012

Don’t get me wrong.  Offenders should be made to pay but a greater emphasis should be made to alter perceptions and how our responses color our perceptions since we were little kids.   ‘Experts’ disagree as to what age we stop forming our personality from about three to seven years of age.    Given that,  what can we do?

We cannot control everyone twenty-four hours a day but it is painfully obvious we are not making a lot of tangible progress.  How do we preserve the natural instinct of men and women and still have respectfulness?   Sexuality is not just a cognitive process.    We have our perceptions and our instincts.

“According to this model of the psyche, the id is the set of uncoordinated instinctual trends; the super-ego plays the critical and moralizing role; and the ego is the organized, realistic part that mediates between the desires of the id and the super-ego.”

Id, ego and super-ego – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Id,_ego_and_super-ego

This is the template and our lives,  our conditions are predicated on interactions.    One thing I have a problem is are those commercials where actors and athletes basically say,  enough is enough.

“No More fawning, pandering, spineless, celebrities trying to show the world how wonderfully “enlightened” and “progressive” they are and trampling all over the remains of their own dignity in the process.

No More infantilizing women and demonizing men.
No More feminist propaganda.”

Still what do these PSAs do?   And who are these people?   What have they done?   Most importantly,  what is the message and how can it be fixed?    Do laws fix our problems or enrich the legal system, estrange people and make people paranoid of each other?     As long as we pontificate,  hand-wring and make hyperbolic gestures,  focus is diverted from the problem and that is respect for each other.
From Wikipedia

Barefoot and pregnant” is a figure of speech most commonly associated with the controversial idea that women should not work outside the home and should have many children during their reproductive years. It has several other meanings as well.

The phrase “barefoot and pregnant” seems to have been introduced in the early twentieth century by Arthur E. Hertzler, the Horse-and-Buggy Doctor’ from Kansas: “’The only way to keep a woman happy,’ he said, ‘is to keep her barefoot and pregnant.’”[1] By mid-century, the phrase had passed into common parlance, so that an article from 1949 states, “By early 1949, TWA was—in the words of its new president, Ralph S. Damon—both ‘barefoot and pregnant.'”[2]

The variation “barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen” has been associated with the phrase “Kinder, Küche, Kirche” (translated “children, kitchen, church”), used under the German Empire to describe a woman’s role in society. A comparable phrase, “Good Wife, Wise Mother“, emerged in the 1870s in Meiji Japan, and was used as a means of restricting female access to the public realm there,[3] before spreading more widely in East Asian culture.[4]

Women and menBFP

TONYTONY2

All men are a stereotype to some feminists with absolutely no redeeming value and nothing to contribute.   The men who have doting wives who are depicted as permanently emotionally disabled.        From the Burning Bed to Archie Bunker and his Edith,  they are secondary and mere props and sexual objects in the case of Farrah Fawcett.

edith-archie-bunker-pianoWELFARE

There is a lot of fail here and yet,  there are those women who become accustomed and go with the flow as much as Carmela and Tony Soprano.   We have Charlie Sheen and his tiger blood,  being elevated to a status of drug abuser and self-admitted ‘whore mongerer.”    No more what Charlie?    House Arrest?

GymTtumblr_mqz3cwnM6O1se34hmo1_1280

Girls were girls and men were men?   Today we have teens and politicians sexting and we have more Laws.  What have those laws done?      More sex offenders?   All the while the number of incidents increase.   America and the world portray sexuality being on the verge of illicit boundaries codified with Judges with teenaged girls and boys.

MMGirlsThe older

Then we have Miss Phoebe Cates and boobage while Judge Rheinhold finds himself pining for the perfect girl.   The confluence of reality and embarrassment.    The gray areas become diffuse and yet scenes of date rape and exploitation meld into the minds of young adolescent boys and girls.

And the race to deflower young women is all over the place.   From Hermoine, and the Olson Twins to Hannah Montana and Taissa Farmiga the race to show their nude bodies or in sex scenes and scandals.     It is like Barely Legal Magazine for young actresses.   Taissa was depicted as a minor and in one episode she was having sex with a patient while he was dying.   Kind of brutal with an explanation point.

You see,  hormone-driven adolescents and middle-aged lurkers think about their conquests against those considered as easy.    Two different messages being sent with exploitation of sexuality and the craven desires of Hollywood and musicians.

The answer is to respectfully introduce each gender with realistic views of what makes us human and down playing depravity or simply to examine ourselves.   This is not meant to be male-bashing but to examine where we are and where we are going with respect to each other.

Maybe counseling new parents and expecting parents on how to act around children and even pregnant women so as not to traumatize children and infants.

Let’s start treating each other better.   Let’s feed one another and a safe warm place to be.   That adult was a baby at one time and I think the adult should not be just a statistic for Social Security purposes.   Radical feminists need a change of heart and men who harass and debase women need to learn early our biological differences and respect for those differences.

Not to demonize women or men but to teach the Golden Rule.    That starts early and is a lifelong process.   We can not afford to be merciful,  to the sick, depraved or poor.   We need to do our part in making this country safe and be strong enough to lead to a better tomorrow.    No more hatred directed to anyone whether they be straight, gay,  military or civilian,  adult and child.    Can we evolve?

Make LoveNomoreWwe

358nuqh

http://www.unitedwayla.org/2012/05/rachel-fleischer-talks-about-her-movie-without-a-home-and-addressing-homelessness-in-los-angeles/

Rachel

Let’s stop scandalizing sex and avoiding real help to real people,   they are everywhere and denying this contributes to the pain caused to women around the world.

Quiet Desperation. Rewards Found in Shadows.

I feel pain and many times not even my own.   As a younger man I was working as a Forecaster at McGuire AFB in New Jersey.   One evening the weather observer blew past me and basically seemed to ignore me.   About an hour later she asked me how I knew something is wrong.    Her husband was high on crack and tried to shoot her with a shotgun.

I cannot remember how many times especially with females that I sensed this desperation.   A kind of pervasive fear that riddles with the soul with uncertainty and knowing that people do not understand.   Those who think they know depression and anxiety or to get over those things.

They assume much and without any comprehension of who I am and what I do for others.  The best medicine is compassion.   A feeling heart that is vulnerable but equipped.   It comes as no surprise at the misogyny directed at women and those perceived to be weak.   Most men could not bear pregnancy and yet they carp at women as the weaker sex.   We are both the weaker and stronger and we know what the rules are for that.

We struggle to find things we can color as black and white and a way of a common ground that makes us better,  whole and deluded.   Unfortunately there are the parasites who willfully and aggressively open up scars and believe they are doing good.

To those,  we just walk away,  confidently but with humility because this is an anathema to haters.   Knowing we know where they are coming from.   Two still equal two,  yet the contrary spirit inherent in all of us,  wishes to play the devil’s advocate.

The tears of a friend spent towards a person especially a man who is trusted is almost sacred.    A girl and a friend I knew in Germany was near suicidal following a rape and resultant pregnancy.   She was lost and afraid but I just listened and told her that it is her decision,  whether to keep or abort.   She said I was the only one who treated with real respect.   Not strong opinions and judgments and love that is platonic and still sexually charged.   Without the sex.  Trust.

She decided to not abort and the baby was given to a mixed couple who the Army decided could not have kids by other channels.   Here were people who touched my heart in different ways and all where touched by some kind of angel.   I need to find her again as this was long ago.

The point is that we should listen.  Drink in the moment and appreciate the flavors of experience which if decided to be shared are a nectar so sweet,  that is permeates our brains with compassion and heart.

Give me this.  Take to a place where prying eyes dim. ‘

Give me the honesty to know the time on the clock.

Take me to the door that blesses our entrance,

to the sublime nature of harmony and the steady beat of time.

Give me the mind and the heart to hear.

To move past the shadows

and into the purple throes that fill me with wonder.

sunnude

JungA

Ray Rice had a very bad moment! But so have you! Some things never change.

“I won’t insult your intelligence by suggesting that you really believe what you just said.”
William F. Buckley Jr.

So now we have yet another controversy (Ray Rice) because men and women alike to ply controversy as along as it does not indict them or their perceptions about themselves.    A trio of cases has made the news and those ready to capitalize on them,  will.  (Ray Rice,  Adrian Peterson and Ferguson)   But like any person who benefits from these kind of cases are not about solutions.   These kinds want to feeled vindicated over something that has no relevance to their own lives.

They are just lazy haters with no plan.   The longer this goes on the less time there is to judge their own missteps and that includes me.    They have a belly full of self-righteous indignation and no one to blame.  Except for the vulnerable who they CLAIM to care about.

Those who wish to bash Janay Rice taking her longer view of this situation,  I want to slap!   Sure Ray Rice has done the unthinkable and their indeed needs to be consequences.   But the most strident critics are those with things to hide or some other agenda.     Or you have the guys who like to present a virtual dialogue,  accusing others of racism, sexism,  misogyny or whatever their minds decide.

These decisions are born of haste,  arrogance and the unfetter cacophony of a lynch mob.    Like the Salem Witch-hunts come in various arrays,  finding some niche in which a person can ruin another.   It is that simple.   People do because they can.  Just like those dysfunctional sex bombs on Jerry Springer.    What is most fascinating about that ‘trainwreck’ is how old flash me some boobs Springer is like a prurient slinky in Chinatown offering some sage advice to people who wantonly exploit each other.

Then are the raucous and indecorous sniggles at a woman objectifying herself by showing her boobs.    This diminishingly embarrassing behavior in encouraged.    Some of these very same people are cheering while teenagers are deemed sex offenders by showing their bodies to their friends and classmates who get an eyeful.    So who made you God?   You cannot even run your own life as the song so aptly put it.  Now, you wish to destroy Rice,  Peterson and Tiger Woods.   I can bet my life that some of you have done worse.

You talk about helping women?  You lie!  Aside trying to ruin the lives of the guilty the world has not changed one bit.    You are part of the problem as long as there is clamoring and no one is listening.  How else can anything ever get better?     Aside from the punitive actions and laws you offer no change in the patterns of abuse.

Hillary had one thing right,  that is literally does take a village to make things like bullying,  abuse and terrorism abate.   Not even a plan just demands of justice.   Taking on the victim like Ray’s wife and making it all about you!  You are complicit in bringing more pain to the world.   You have made the victim’s life harder whilst you munch on Doritos and beat your dog.   Yeah,  I know you did this!

or there is this!

Let’s take charge of our own and stop letting disinterested parties decide our fate and I mean us all.  We all go around not trying to effect change as practically as we can and bomb aspirin factories and tell everyone else how nice we are.   We are never as good or as bad as we want others to believe.

I have lied and have stolen things and have deceived and maybe they may or may not have been crimes but I do not go around giving everyone else a scarlet letter or accuse of them of being a witch,  child molester or a serial cheater of some kind.

It’s like the show (movie)  ‘Mean Girls’.  A revealing look at the innate nature of us all and even those who we thought were incapable of such things.

I like ‘House’.   Does that make me an abuser or a victim?    Does calling a peaceful church goer affect you?   And why do you think anyone owes YOU an apology?   Everybody hurts some times.

It is hard enough to make it in this life without lighting another fire and while we may not have this particular tragedy over our heads we can assure others than there are those who really do care.

Life, Love and the Devil.

In 1970s there was a song written by Terry Jacks and sung by the Poppys.    It went something like this,  “Evil Grows in the dark where the sun it never shines,  evil grows in cracks and holes and lives in people’s minds”.

In my mind one of the scariest scenes in any movie,  was in the Exorcist and not for all the obvious vulgar things but a more subtle scene at the start of the movie.   Where the Priest is in the Middle East and where the music,  the chaos and more specifically the Dogs Fighting.   Evil v. Evil.

It is in those cracks and holes and scary dark places,  the imagination can run amok as the incessant hammering in the old town and blind sages suggesting something truly unhuman.

I remember as a young child jumping off the teeter-totter and the guy on the end bounced like that ball in the cartoons where you sing a long with silly songs.    Was that an act of evil or me playing the game and testing it’s limits?   Was this part of my Dad’s favorite pastime of wrecking me on my little red wagon or dumping me on the sled.   A habit that has in part made me hyper-anxious and mistrusting.

For me the darkness was a kind of shield where I could go unnoticed or maybe it was caused by being molested in a storm cellar in Texas by an older boy.    Maybe it was a grim reminder of some kind of attention even one I had no idea of that time.

I loved watching the snow at night and where there is little or no snow,  rain or wind.    Waiting for school to be closed and not having done my homework.     My kind of passive-aggressive Russian-roulette.    I also like walking in it,  I was virtually alone and safe.   Like maybe the cold prevented THE antagonist from inflicting more pain and sadness.

I was also a sentinel guarding the gates against sudden fury.    Like a life-size chess game I planned several moves ahead and this usually gave me the upper-hand.   In a grocery store I still feel trapped and almost feral.    I feel as if I can detect evil just by looking at a person.     So if I see that kind visible clue in the store I am more inclined to try and flee as soon as possible.

The thunder and the rain also is a weapon of mine.    The sounds of violence and the washing away of tears.   Those tears like Teflon let the fears ease as they run into the gutter.   The sun impinges upon that sanctuary like heavy steps they are first heard and then felt.

Fear like Poppy seeds float to find  a new home and  like Pollywogs in a muddy ditch they hide.   So too,  I hid.  The hot Texas sun and my friends in a segregated neighborhood marched in harmony while wild-eyed monsters with seething hate got to the front of the bus.

Evil cannot manifest itself in the seemingly sublime while underneath the dark moist rock were hiding earth worms and Rolly Pollys in eggshells.   A blue day sunwise can be quite a sight and when people talk about how wonderful it is,   I wonder.

To me a mean person is an icicle falling off a house and then that person reveling in it’s mayhem.   Kind of like that dude on Oz who plays Mayhem in the insurance commercials.    A mean person is even meaner who rapes the soul of innocence and the sharper of the knives are the ones who hold hostage.   Maybe my intense aversion to kidnappers are a reaction to my Mom’s pain.   Like the time in Florida she hid in my garage from my own father.

This is why to me you can not judge the sky by it’s color or love by ‘I love Yous’.