Fast-forwarding to the (almost) present, tonight's clip is "99 Problems" by Jay-Z.
Jay-Z bangs rap up against metal here and the result is powerful. Lyrically he mines a lot of well-trod ground but it's solid enough and raw enough that it sounds fresh.
I'm not sure how long this version (with the lyrics not bleeped) will stay up there; the edited version sounds so chopped up it's almost unlistenable.
On Doms and Dommes and Everything Else
saratoga wrote here on the topic of dominant Males. The post and the comments are worth reading in their entirety. At one point, saratoga writes:
My personal belief is that it's the least secure males who outwardly express themselves as 'dominant' to Females.
Among the commenters was a Gorean Master and well, you can imagine the fur flying, so to speak.
In My experience, there is just no one way about things. I have met many women presenting as Domme who were in fact looking solely to submit. They used a Domme name/persona for protection (from, among others, some of the more aggressive "Doms" out there). I've met many a man presenting as Dom who, likewise, wanted mainly to submit. Rarely would those presenting as submissive be truly Dominant, although obviously many were switches, and others had an idea of "submitting" that, to be kind, needed a lot of work.
But the one constant is that confusion, "deception," etc., are not sex-defined. Are men more prone to a more aggressive approach? More likely to adopt the "best defense is a good offense" style of D/s? Very much so, as saratoga points out. But neither sex has any monopoly on unintentional or intentional deception caused by fear, inexperience, misplaced emotions, narcissism, sociopathy, or confusion. We shouldn't get led astray by the differences in surface manifestations, which are essentially chemical in nature.
We're all in this together . . . a thought at once inspiring and frightening. But fewer arbitrary lines can only help us all.
My personal belief is that it's the least secure males who outwardly express themselves as 'dominant' to Females.
Among the commenters was a Gorean Master and well, you can imagine the fur flying, so to speak.
In My experience, there is just no one way about things. I have met many women presenting as Domme who were in fact looking solely to submit. They used a Domme name/persona for protection (from, among others, some of the more aggressive "Doms" out there). I've met many a man presenting as Dom who, likewise, wanted mainly to submit. Rarely would those presenting as submissive be truly Dominant, although obviously many were switches, and others had an idea of "submitting" that, to be kind, needed a lot of work.
But the one constant is that confusion, "deception," etc., are not sex-defined. Are men more prone to a more aggressive approach? More likely to adopt the "best defense is a good offense" style of D/s? Very much so, as saratoga points out. But neither sex has any monopoly on unintentional or intentional deception caused by fear, inexperience, misplaced emotions, narcissism, sociopathy, or confusion. We shouldn't get led astray by the differences in surface manifestations, which are essentially chemical in nature.
We're all in this together . . . a thought at once inspiring and frightening. But fewer arbitrary lines can only help us all.
Governor Fido
New York Governor Eliot Spitzer has admitted to having used a $5500 a night call girl. And while I wish no one ill, and I feel horrible for Mrs. Spitzer (more on her later), part of Me can barely contain My glee.
See . . . before he was governor, Spitzer was New York Attorney General, and in that role he was no clock-punching time waster with a badge. No, Spitzer was a self-styled Eliott Ness, crusading for truth, justice, and the (Spitzerian) American way. It didn't matter if sometimes no actual crimes were committed. Wall Street executives making too much money? Spitzer the Caped Crusader, calculator and phone taps in hand, was ready to swoop down and set the world to right.
Which is fine, sort of. I personally detest law enforcement agents who draw that kind of attention to themselves, but in career advancement terms it works. Guiliani parlayed a stint as a mob-busting, grandstanding US Attorney into a long and successful run as mayor of New York City. Spitzer moved up from top cop to governor.
But if you're going to be a cop-star, rule number 1 is don't break the law. To be safe, don't even jaywalk, because nothing sells newspapers like hypocrisy in high places. And nasty perverse people like Me eat it right up.
And Governor E-Dawg didn't just use a high-priced call girl . . . his incompetence at criminal behavior got the whole ring busted!
According to ABC News, some time ago a bank reported to the IRS a suspicious-looking money transfer by Spitzer's office. The IRS got the Department of Justice involved and an investigation was opened, since it was suspected that the funny transfer might've been an attempt to cover up bribes. One thing led to another, wiretaps were obtained (does it get any better?) and lo and behold --it wasn't anything as crass as bribes. It was high-class nookie for hire. So down comes the entire operation. Smooth move, Governor.
Yesterday Spitzer met the press and apologized. His wife stood there with him, looking about how you'd expect a woman in her position to look in front of 100 reporters and cameras.
Was it really necessary to parade her out there? Was the tiny PR lift that might provide justified, in human terms? In a way Silda Spitzer standing there was a bigger crime than anything the Governor did with any call girl. My only guess is that having the Mrs. standing there was an indication that Spitzer doesn't intend to resign.
He may not have a choice . . . Albany Republicans, historically some of the most brutal and vindictive politicians there are, are salivating at the thought of an impeachment proceeding.
Not to mention that possibility that Spitzer will be indicted, either under the Mann Act, or under obscure statutes that prohibit "structuring," a fancy name for moving money around in an attempt to conceal illegal activity. If he's indicted I'm sure in practical terms if nothing else, Spitzer would have to resign or at the very least take a leave of absence.
Don't get Me wrong. . . . while I am perversely gleeful that a self-important, holier-than-thou, Mr-Law-and-Order elected official turns out to be just another dog, I don't really want him to get sent to jail. Prostitution shouldn't even be illegal, in My view. So I can't be as big a hypocrite as the Governor and want him jailed for something that I personally think should be legal.
But I do hope as part of some non-jail-time plea, he has to stand up in court and say it all. And get a judge who's in the mood to explain to the Governor about how pride goeth before a fall, and all that.
See . . . before he was governor, Spitzer was New York Attorney General, and in that role he was no clock-punching time waster with a badge. No, Spitzer was a self-styled Eliott Ness, crusading for truth, justice, and the (Spitzerian) American way. It didn't matter if sometimes no actual crimes were committed. Wall Street executives making too much money? Spitzer the Caped Crusader, calculator and phone taps in hand, was ready to swoop down and set the world to right.
Which is fine, sort of. I personally detest law enforcement agents who draw that kind of attention to themselves, but in career advancement terms it works. Guiliani parlayed a stint as a mob-busting, grandstanding US Attorney into a long and successful run as mayor of New York City. Spitzer moved up from top cop to governor.
But if you're going to be a cop-star, rule number 1 is don't break the law. To be safe, don't even jaywalk, because nothing sells newspapers like hypocrisy in high places. And nasty perverse people like Me eat it right up.
And Governor E-Dawg didn't just use a high-priced call girl . . . his incompetence at criminal behavior got the whole ring busted!
According to ABC News, some time ago a bank reported to the IRS a suspicious-looking money transfer by Spitzer's office. The IRS got the Department of Justice involved and an investigation was opened, since it was suspected that the funny transfer might've been an attempt to cover up bribes. One thing led to another, wiretaps were obtained (does it get any better?) and lo and behold --it wasn't anything as crass as bribes. It was high-class nookie for hire. So down comes the entire operation. Smooth move, Governor.
Yesterday Spitzer met the press and apologized. His wife stood there with him, looking about how you'd expect a woman in her position to look in front of 100 reporters and cameras.
Was it really necessary to parade her out there? Was the tiny PR lift that might provide justified, in human terms? In a way Silda Spitzer standing there was a bigger crime than anything the Governor did with any call girl. My only guess is that having the Mrs. standing there was an indication that Spitzer doesn't intend to resign.
He may not have a choice . . . Albany Republicans, historically some of the most brutal and vindictive politicians there are, are salivating at the thought of an impeachment proceeding.
Not to mention that possibility that Spitzer will be indicted, either under the Mann Act, or under obscure statutes that prohibit "structuring," a fancy name for moving money around in an attempt to conceal illegal activity. If he's indicted I'm sure in practical terms if nothing else, Spitzer would have to resign or at the very least take a leave of absence.
Don't get Me wrong. . . . while I am perversely gleeful that a self-important, holier-than-thou, Mr-Law-and-Order elected official turns out to be just another dog, I don't really want him to get sent to jail. Prostitution shouldn't even be illegal, in My view. So I can't be as big a hypocrite as the Governor and want him jailed for something that I personally think should be legal.
But I do hope as part of some non-jail-time plea, he has to stand up in court and say it all. And get a judge who's in the mood to explain to the Governor about how pride goeth before a fall, and all that.
YouTube Tuesday: Back In The Day
Still in the hip-hop vein, tonight's clip is "Mistadobalina" by Del The Funky Homosapien.
This video dates from the time when hip hop still had "the shock of the new" going for it. Before it was about your Escalades or your hos or how many gazillion dollars your last record/tour made. When it sounded, looked, and felt fresh and new.
"Mistadobalina" is (very) loosely based on "Zilch," an a capella experiment by, of all people, the Monkees.
"take a little tip from the tabloid
because I know I'm not paranoid
when I say I saw ya tryin' to mock me
now you and your crew are on a mission tryin' to hawk me
but it isn't happenin' ya fraudulent foes
you used to front big time now I suppose
that everything's cool since the style of apparel you adopted
you used to make fun of but now you wanna rock it
so you gotta kick it with the homies"
This video dates from the time when hip hop still had "the shock of the new" going for it. Before it was about your Escalades or your hos or how many gazillion dollars your last record/tour made. When it sounded, looked, and felt fresh and new.
"Mistadobalina" is (very) loosely based on "Zilch," an a capella experiment by, of all people, the Monkees.
"take a little tip from the tabloid
because I know I'm not paranoid
when I say I saw ya tryin' to mock me
now you and your crew are on a mission tryin' to hawk me
but it isn't happenin' ya fraudulent foes
you used to front big time now I suppose
that everything's cool since the style of apparel you adopted
you used to make fun of but now you wanna rock it
so you gotta kick it with the homies"
YouTube Tuesday: Hillary's Farewell?
I was in the hip-hop frame of mind tonight, and found this excellent clip: Rockstar (Remix) by N.E.R.D. The director decided to create an editing showcase and has taken clips from other music videos and put them together.
It sounds and looks great. But as I watched, some of the lyrics made Me think about Hillary Clinton's campaign, apparently hanging in the balance tonight.
You think the way you lives OK
You think posing
Will save the day
You think we don't see
That you're running
Better call your boys
'Cause I'm coming
You can't be me
I'm a Rock Star
I'm rhyming on the top of a cop car
I'm a rebel and my .44 pops far
It's almost over now
It's almost over now
It sounds and looks great. But as I watched, some of the lyrics made Me think about Hillary Clinton's campaign, apparently hanging in the balance tonight.
You think the way you lives OK
You think posing
Will save the day
You think we don't see
That you're running
Better call your boys
'Cause I'm coming
You can't be me
I'm a Rock Star
I'm rhyming on the top of a cop car
I'm a rebel and my .44 pops far
It's almost over now
It's almost over now
YouTube Tuesday: Picking What Can't Be Picked
Tonight's clip is a compilation of one youtuber's top ten all-time "Seinfeld" moments.
I give the person credit for even trying . . . there's no way I could begin to limit My favorite Seinfeld moments to ten.
But all these certainly belong up near the top.
I give the person credit for even trying . . . there's no way I could begin to limit My favorite Seinfeld moments to ten.
But all these certainly belong up near the top.
Snow Day Musings
The predicted snowstorm actually came to pass, and is actually a bit worse than the forecasters predicted (which is rare -- the trend these days is for weather forecasters to irresponsibly overpredict snow amounts and storm severity, leading to the moron in the checkout line in front of Me having her cart stuffed with nine gallons of milk and 22 pounds of ground beef).
Anyway, I took the opportunity for a well-deserved, totally justified, cosmically-mandated snow day!
I've been visiting blogs on My link list. I'm making an effort to keep it clean, removing dead links, moving inactive blogs to the "Emeritus" section, etc. There is more work to do, however.
1. When you make your blog invite only, bear in mind that you are leaving no way for readers to reconnect with you. Is that really the intent? The net result is that I have to remove all these blogs from the list.
2. Some blogs I just have to get rid of. Their authors are either so clueless, so self-absorbed, so ridiculously full of themselves, or just so immensely self-important that deleting them from the link list seems the only reasonable choice.
Part of Me wants to call these people out, and in fact, I've come very close to leaving comments on those blogs from time to time, and I've started and then trashed several posts here addressing the topic. But confrontation serves no purpose -- the on-line universe is already too plagued with rants, call-outs, threats, and simple obnoxious stupidity for Me to add even one direct drop of venom to. Does anyone remember restraint? Self-editing? Simple manners?
The saddest part is that these delusional bloggers are all women. I'm sensing the world was better off when men had the monopoly on crass egotism. One more item to file under "Unintended Horrible Consequences of Feminism." Yikes, that file is getting gigantic! Oh well.
It's still snowing. Yay.
Anyway, I took the opportunity for a well-deserved, totally justified, cosmically-mandated snow day!
I've been visiting blogs on My link list. I'm making an effort to keep it clean, removing dead links, moving inactive blogs to the "Emeritus" section, etc. There is more work to do, however.
1. When you make your blog invite only, bear in mind that you are leaving no way for readers to reconnect with you. Is that really the intent? The net result is that I have to remove all these blogs from the list.
2. Some blogs I just have to get rid of. Their authors are either so clueless, so self-absorbed, so ridiculously full of themselves, or just so immensely self-important that deleting them from the link list seems the only reasonable choice.
Part of Me wants to call these people out, and in fact, I've come very close to leaving comments on those blogs from time to time, and I've started and then trashed several posts here addressing the topic. But confrontation serves no purpose -- the on-line universe is already too plagued with rants, call-outs, threats, and simple obnoxious stupidity for Me to add even one direct drop of venom to. Does anyone remember restraint? Self-editing? Simple manners?
The saddest part is that these delusional bloggers are all women. I'm sensing the world was better off when men had the monopoly on crass egotism. One more item to file under "Unintended Horrible Consequences of Feminism." Yikes, that file is getting gigantic! Oh well.
It's still snowing. Yay.
YouTube Tuesday: Something Else Again
I have a subversive streak -- I take great pleasure in a commercial product put to unintended uses for the sake of art, or for juvenile fun, or for both. Such perversion of concept, when successful, I find highly entertaining and even strangely uplifting.
Tonight's video clip is a great example -- the music is Sal N' Pepa's classic "Push It," and the video features characters from the The Sims 2 dancing along and generally acting strangely. [You might recognize the song from its appearance in the Amp Energy Drink ad in this year's Super Bowl.]
The director pulled off some very nice choreography and the result is funny, and cool.
(No Sims were harmed in the creation of this video.)
Tonight's video clip is a great example -- the music is Sal N' Pepa's classic "Push It," and the video features characters from the The Sims 2 dancing along and generally acting strangely. [You might recognize the song from its appearance in the Amp Energy Drink ad in this year's Super Bowl.]
The director pulled off some very nice choreography and the result is funny, and cool.
(No Sims were harmed in the creation of this video.)
Happy Valentine's Day
I've written before, more than once, about how love can complicate D/s, and how the Dom/me has to be careful of all these things and bla bla bla . . .
Sometimes, a day like today, especially, it's good to forget all the intellectualizing and the theories and to stop and remember why any of it matters in the first place.
Not only to remember that, but to express it.
iris, storm, tasha: I love you. More than I know how to express or really to even understand. Today and every day I'm amazed and grateful beyond words that you are Mine.
Thank you for being you, girls. There is no better way I can say it.
Happy Valentine's Day.
YouTube Tuesday: Beautiful Disaster
There are few things more satisfying than the perfectly put together, two and a half minute rock song.
And here's one: "Beautiful Disaster" by American Hi-Fi. It's a song that I need to hear again as soon as it stops.
There is a good official video on YouTube, but apparently Vivendi/Unidersal would be irreparably damaged by My embedding said video here, so in lieu of the official video is a nice little anime video. Good job by the director.
"Break it down now
What you want anyway?
Right about now
What you want anyway?
I'll fuck it up again
What you want anyway?
We keep fallin' in love
What a beautiful disaster . . . "
And here's one: "Beautiful Disaster" by American Hi-Fi. It's a song that I need to hear again as soon as it stops.
There is a good official video on YouTube, but apparently Vivendi/Unidersal would be irreparably damaged by My embedding said video here, so in lieu of the official video is a nice little anime video. Good job by the director.
"Break it down now
What you want anyway?
Right about now
What you want anyway?
I'll fuck it up again
What you want anyway?
We keep fallin' in love
What a beautiful disaster . . . "
YouTube Tuesday: Anthrax
Thrity years ago a sub-genre of punk sprang up in Britain, featuring what can only be described as Marxist punk/funk.
The best of the lot were Gang of Four, from what I can dig up. Their album Entertainment is brilliant (politics aside).
Tonight's clip is Gang of Four's song "Anthrax" set to some eerily-modifed 9/11 footage (fittingly enough).
Powerful song, and a strangely powerful video.
The best of the lot were Gang of Four, from what I can dig up. Their album Entertainment is brilliant (politics aside).
Tonight's clip is Gang of Four's song "Anthrax" set to some eerily-modifed 9/11 footage (fittingly enough).
Powerful song, and a strangely powerful video.
Sports Interlude: How Good Does It Feel?
If you happened not to have seen the Super Bowl last night, the New York Giants, My New York Giants, beat the previously-undefeated, perennial recent Super Bowl winning, ready to be crowned best team of all time New England Patriots, 17-14.
My girl iris is a huge Giants' fan too, and last night we talked a little about where this win ranks compared with other big wins by our teams in our memory.
I told iris that "this feels as good as 1994." That's the year that the Rangers (that's hockey -- sheesh, keep up here!) won the Stanley Cup after a 54-year drought. It's hard for anyone but Ranger fans to understand how big 1994 was.
I told iris that this was "bigger then 1996." 1996 was the first year the Yankees won the world Series in almost two decades, and it was big for Me since it was the first win I could experience and appreciate as a thinking adult. 1996 is huge for Yankee fans, young and old.
So why is last night bigger than either of those two?
1. It was unexpected. The Giants were double-digit underdogs. They kept winning road playoff games, despite the odds. They were playing a team that was 18-0, in a game that the "experts" with few exceptions were billing as the Patriots' coronation.
And the road here wasn't so smooth. The Giant's started 0-2 and looked bad in the process. They then reeled off six wins but mostly against inferior teams. Then it got a little rough again, and Eli Manning looked fair to bad, with a couple of very bad games too. Entering the playoffs as the #5 seed at 10-6, everyone said they needed to win one playoff game or the season was a failure and the questions about Eli would intensify.
2. The game itself was a classic, as a football game. It was an incredible, involving, thrilling game to watch, irrespective of rooting interest or lack thereof. Arguably the best Super Bowl ever and certainly in the top handful. That adds to the intensity, the joy of having won it.
3. The Boston thing. Lately, Boston (Foxboro, where the Patriots play, counts) has been leading a charmed sports life. The Red Sox have won two World Series in four years -- they are the new Evil Empire. The Patriots had won three Super Bowls in six years, and this year had as dominant a season as could be drawn up, especially early on, crushing everyone in their path en route to an 18-0 record. The Boston Celtics made some key acquisitions this past off-season and are currently terrorizing the NBA and looking very good in the process.
So, lately in professional sports it's all about the Bostons.
Until last night. And it's impossible to convey how good that feels, that the Giants, out of nowhere, threw a monkey wrench into the increasingly arrogant and distasteful Boston sports juggernaut.
How good does it feel? Words fail me.
Go Big Blue.
Helpful, Powerful, Cliches
I'm constantly amazed at the utility and power inherent in certain cliches.
The other night I was talking to someone who wasn't in a very good way. Her concerns were real, and serious -- she wasn't exaggerating or making things up. There were good reasons for her to be upset and depressed.
And I found Myself eventually saying something along the lines of this:
On any given day, there are 244 reasons to be depressed, but only one reason to be happy. The trick is to embrace the one and to reject the 244.
She of course asked what the one reason to be happy was.
The only reason to be happy is that today, you wake up, alive and healthy (presumably), and you have an opportunity today to feel, and to be, someone different from the you that you're unhappy about/unhappy with.
I have no problem saying those things, corny as they might sound. Because I honestly, totally, unreservedly believe them to be not only true but also incredibly important. I strive (not always so successfully, alas) to live that way. That they are much easier said than done in no way lessens their value.
But the surprising part is that those statements helped My friend a lot. Not because she had never heard them before -- I'm sure she's heard them in similar forms a hundred times. But there are times when, reminded of something simple but undeniably true, the simple cliche takes on a meaning far beyond the surface sensibleness being communicated.
I don't attribute that amplified effect to any wonderful magical abilities I might have, certainly. I attribute it to the fact that we are constantly in a torrent of emotions, thoughts, and feelings, both our own and countless foreign ones as well. It's not unlike diving into a pool heavily packed with objects of various consistencies -- some bounce off of us, some buffet us and change our path, others are capable of truly injuring us.
And in that environment, when we lift our heads up and focus on something not in the pool with us, it has the capability to really reach us, quickly, deeply, and efficiently. And when that thing we "run into" in that state is something that does have underlying truth and value and a certain inarguable quality to it, its impact is magnified greatly.
The utility and power of certain ridiculously simple ideas truly can be staggering.
The other night I was talking to someone who wasn't in a very good way. Her concerns were real, and serious -- she wasn't exaggerating or making things up. There were good reasons for her to be upset and depressed.
And I found Myself eventually saying something along the lines of this:
On any given day, there are 244 reasons to be depressed, but only one reason to be happy. The trick is to embrace the one and to reject the 244.
She of course asked what the one reason to be happy was.
The only reason to be happy is that today, you wake up, alive and healthy (presumably), and you have an opportunity today to feel, and to be, someone different from the you that you're unhappy about/unhappy with.
I have no problem saying those things, corny as they might sound. Because I honestly, totally, unreservedly believe them to be not only true but also incredibly important. I strive (not always so successfully, alas) to live that way. That they are much easier said than done in no way lessens their value.
But the surprising part is that those statements helped My friend a lot. Not because she had never heard them before -- I'm sure she's heard them in similar forms a hundred times. But there are times when, reminded of something simple but undeniably true, the simple cliche takes on a meaning far beyond the surface sensibleness being communicated.
I don't attribute that amplified effect to any wonderful magical abilities I might have, certainly. I attribute it to the fact that we are constantly in a torrent of emotions, thoughts, and feelings, both our own and countless foreign ones as well. It's not unlike diving into a pool heavily packed with objects of various consistencies -- some bounce off of us, some buffet us and change our path, others are capable of truly injuring us.
And in that environment, when we lift our heads up and focus on something not in the pool with us, it has the capability to really reach us, quickly, deeply, and efficiently. And when that thing we "run into" in that state is something that does have underlying truth and value and a certain inarguable quality to it, its impact is magnified greatly.
The utility and power of certain ridiculously simple ideas truly can be staggering.
You Tube Tuesday: The Perfect Pop Song, Crossover Funk Division
Tonight's entry is "Brick House" by the Commodores, a brilliant little jewel of a song -- every time I hear it I just have to hear it again.
Now, about the video.
I love how many crazy creative people there are out there. Someone got the idea of trying to match up the lyrics of "Brick House" to mouth movements in clips from the Star Wars movies!
To call that non-obvious is the understatement of the decade, but the video is really pretty funny in parts. If you are one of the 12 people on Earth who has never seen any Star Wars movies, um, never mind and just enjoy the song.
Now, about the video.
I love how many crazy creative people there are out there. Someone got the idea of trying to match up the lyrics of "Brick House" to mouth movements in clips from the Star Wars movies!
To call that non-obvious is the understatement of the decade, but the video is really pretty funny in parts. If you are one of the 12 people on Earth who has never seen any Star Wars movies, um, never mind and just enjoy the song.
Goin' to the chapel and . . .
News Item: Piper's Gettin' Hitched!
Congratulations of course to Piper and Steve.
I wonder, though, what becomes of Piper's crazy poly adventures now. While theoretically, marriage doesn't have to change anything, in reality it often changes everything.
I'll still love reading about whatever you choose to blog about, Piper -- and while I know you said you don't want it to become an "all things wedding" blog, don't go too far the other way and starve us of all the good wedding-related stuff.
All the best to you and Steve and however you work things out, I can't wait to read about it.
YouTube Tuesday: The Cowboys Have Fans Allllllll Over, It Seems
I love football, specifically the New York Giants. And one of the best parts of making it to the Super Bowl (coming up a week from Sunday) was beating the highly-favored, #1 seed, Dallas Cowboys in the process.
Some Cowboy fans in high (low, really) places were not pleased. The first time I watched this the tears were literally running down My cheeks from laughing so hard.
Some Cowboy fans in high (low, really) places were not pleased. The first time I watched this the tears were literally running down My cheeks from laughing so hard.
Discipline and Motivation and the X Factor
One blog I look at regularly is Submissive Journal Prompts.
Every week there, luna posts five questions/topics/quotes, intended to spur the reader for the reader's own journal. I find it's handy not just for submissives -- I use it to sometimes get unblocked.
This week, the following quote is listed:
The secret of discipline is motivation. When [one] is sufficiently motivated, discipline will take care of itself.” -Sir Alexander Paterson
Taken at the first level, that's certainly true. Many of us have experienced the phenomenon as children, with musical instruments. I liked playing the piano, so practicing wasn't an issue -- My mother never had to nag Me about practicing. I had many friends who went through every instrument in the orchestra and failed at all of them because they were being forced to do it by well-meaning parents. Almost no amount of cajoling can overcome a lack of desire.
It's the same in D/s. If a girl is a bratty bottom, let's say, no amount of punishment or lecturing is going to make her into a submissive (and will likely be counterproductive). she will either become something other than she is as a natural consequence of time and experience, or she won't.
So on the level of raw desire, yes, certainly motivation creates discipline. We are drawn to what we like and want.
Taking up the case of Me and the piano again, My devoting time to practicing wasn't an issue, but a funny thing happened. I never really got very good and over time My interest eventually waned and disappeared. This was frustrating and hurtful because My desire to play well was no less than it had been; I just ended up feeling as though I wasn't capable of it, that perhaps I lacked the appropriate artistic temperament or "God-given gifts."
All of which, I later learned, was nonsense. The reason I hit a wall and eventually lost momentum was because I had teachers who did not help Me to practice correctly. Thus much of My practice time was wasted and might even have been hurting My progress. I of course was in no position to understand this at the time, nor were My parents. It was no one's fault -- a classic case of the operating principle of the universe: Stuff Happens.
submission is not so different from learning to play the piano. Desire to succeed fuels the investment in practice time, and the presence of a knowledgeable teacher is extremely important. Not so much (but partially) to ensure that "practice time" is efficiently used, but more to provide a clear and consistent groundwork for the submissive to follow and refer back to. To help the submissive understand that progress is going to be so slow as to sometimes be imperceptible in the short term. To set the submissive back on the path when s/he falters. To not tolerate sloppiness or laziness and to immediately correct those. And to properly reward achievement.
That outside influence, in the piano, in submission, in many other human endeavors, is the X Factor. Motivation may create discipline, but often too late we discover that for long-term success, discipline will sometimes create motivation, and said discipline often must come from outside ourselves.
How terrible, and how absolutely wonderful, is that?
(Still) On The Way There
Daddy's lil pig wrote:
i have debated heavily as to if i was going to write this post. For a number of reasons i have gone back and forth as to if i should or not. One of those reasons, is that i think that i will come across as a bore. Once again the silly slave lamenting about her woe's of life...i really hate coming off like that. Also, another reason is that as i reread portions of this blog over the past year, i find these entries that were written months, even over a year ago..that strongly resemble how i feel now. And that frustrates me, because it give me the feeling that i have not grown much, or that i am sinking, or that i am just floundering.
I think the things she worries about are fairly common among submissive women. [This is one of those rare areas where I draw a strong distinction between male and female in D/s terms -- for whatever reason, in My experience male submissives always feel entitled to their feelings, in a way that female submissives often don't.]
Her first concern, that she will come across as a bore, is almost universal. Few of us are narcissistic enough to never wonder whether the minutiae of our lives and emotions are as fascinating to others as they are to us.
For Me, it's not boring. How a submissive deals with his or her role, the struggles, the triumphs, the sidesteps, missteps, and backsteps, the glories and horrors of this life, are endlessly intriguing to Me. I learn from what I read of others' journeys, and since submissives blog more, and with a greater degree of heart-on-the-page intensity, I learn more from them.
Then lil pig mentions the concern that she hasn't moved or grown, or has even gone backwards, because her emotions today seem so similar to emotions she wrote about a year ago. I can certainly understand the concern -- personally I have a hard and fast rule that I never go back and read old posts. Some things I'd rather not re-discover!
But here again, that the emotions are similar isn't a sign of lack of progress, necessarily.
The process of touching one's submission, then wading in, then finally jumping into that vast ocean isn't predictable. There are rough road maps, guides of sorts, but no one can really predict for a given person what will come easily, and what will be a monumental struggle. Certain activities, certain ideas, will need to be learned 100 times before they fully "sink in." Given that, should it be surprising that one finds one's self feeling the same way (or close to it) over and over?
It's very difficult to come to terms with that. There is a natural tendency to feel that we need to be constantly moving ahead -- and when the "competition" is with our own idea of ourselves, or with an abstract idea, the self-flagellation can be truly frightening.
The truth is that there is no linear path to or through submission. Heck, there isn't even a destination, really, in the sense we've come to know that word in other walks of life. It's a narrow, rocky, dangerous, shaky path, full of rickety bridges, lava pits, enticing detours, and things that go bump in the night.
Remember to enjoy the ride, especially when enjoyment is the furthest thing from your mind.
i have debated heavily as to if i was going to write this post. For a number of reasons i have gone back and forth as to if i should or not. One of those reasons, is that i think that i will come across as a bore. Once again the silly slave lamenting about her woe's of life...i really hate coming off like that. Also, another reason is that as i reread portions of this blog over the past year, i find these entries that were written months, even over a year ago..that strongly resemble how i feel now. And that frustrates me, because it give me the feeling that i have not grown much, or that i am sinking, or that i am just floundering.
I think the things she worries about are fairly common among submissive women. [This is one of those rare areas where I draw a strong distinction between male and female in D/s terms -- for whatever reason, in My experience male submissives always feel entitled to their feelings, in a way that female submissives often don't.]
Her first concern, that she will come across as a bore, is almost universal. Few of us are narcissistic enough to never wonder whether the minutiae of our lives and emotions are as fascinating to others as they are to us.
For Me, it's not boring. How a submissive deals with his or her role, the struggles, the triumphs, the sidesteps, missteps, and backsteps, the glories and horrors of this life, are endlessly intriguing to Me. I learn from what I read of others' journeys, and since submissives blog more, and with a greater degree of heart-on-the-page intensity, I learn more from them.
Then lil pig mentions the concern that she hasn't moved or grown, or has even gone backwards, because her emotions today seem so similar to emotions she wrote about a year ago. I can certainly understand the concern -- personally I have a hard and fast rule that I never go back and read old posts. Some things I'd rather not re-discover!
But here again, that the emotions are similar isn't a sign of lack of progress, necessarily.
The process of touching one's submission, then wading in, then finally jumping into that vast ocean isn't predictable. There are rough road maps, guides of sorts, but no one can really predict for a given person what will come easily, and what will be a monumental struggle. Certain activities, certain ideas, will need to be learned 100 times before they fully "sink in." Given that, should it be surprising that one finds one's self feeling the same way (or close to it) over and over?
It's very difficult to come to terms with that. There is a natural tendency to feel that we need to be constantly moving ahead -- and when the "competition" is with our own idea of ourselves, or with an abstract idea, the self-flagellation can be truly frightening.
The truth is that there is no linear path to or through submission. Heck, there isn't even a destination, really, in the sense we've come to know that word in other walks of life. It's a narrow, rocky, dangerous, shaky path, full of rickety bridges, lava pits, enticing detours, and things that go bump in the night.
Remember to enjoy the ride, especially when enjoyment is the furthest thing from your mind.
YouTube Tuesday: Volcano Girls
Tonight's clip is a very well put together montage of clips from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, featuring Buffy and Faith, the show's two poles, set to the snappy "Volcano Girls" by the late and lamented (at least by Me) Veruca Salt.
Intentionally done or not, it's a nice fit. The lyrics talk about pressing on and giving up both, just as the protagonists in Buffy often seemed caught between their committment to their increidbly important mission and the gnawing, growing possibility that it's all for naught.
Leave me Lying here
cause I donlt wanna go
Tell me tell me what you really want from me
Youve got me let me know
I'm falling off and I need you terribly
One down and one to go
Volcano girls we really cant be beat
Warm us up and watch us blow
But now and then we fail and we admit defeat
We're falling off we are watered down and fully grown
Leave me Lying here
cause I donlt wanna go
A million miles of running and I hit the wall
I bounce back and I run some more
But this is it, Im giving up, Im calling quits
So get down and meet me on the floor
Way to go to flip off everyone
I steal your thunder then I try to bolt
But I could stand a little pity now and then
I'm falling off I am watered down and fully grown
I told you bout the seether before
You know, the one thats neither or nor
Well heres another clue if you please....The seethers Louise
Leave me Lying here
cause I donlt wanna go
Go I donlt wanna go
I don't wanna go
I don't wanna go
I don't wanna go
Intentionally done or not, it's a nice fit. The lyrics talk about pressing on and giving up both, just as the protagonists in Buffy often seemed caught between their committment to their increidbly important mission and the gnawing, growing possibility that it's all for naught.
Leave me Lying here
cause I donlt wanna go
Tell me tell me what you really want from me
Youve got me let me know
I'm falling off and I need you terribly
One down and one to go
Volcano girls we really cant be beat
Warm us up and watch us blow
But now and then we fail and we admit defeat
We're falling off we are watered down and fully grown
Leave me Lying here
cause I donlt wanna go
A million miles of running and I hit the wall
I bounce back and I run some more
But this is it, Im giving up, Im calling quits
So get down and meet me on the floor
Way to go to flip off everyone
I steal your thunder then I try to bolt
But I could stand a little pity now and then
I'm falling off I am watered down and fully grown
I told you bout the seether before
You know, the one thats neither or nor
Well heres another clue if you please....The seethers Louise
Leave me Lying here
cause I donlt wanna go
Go I donlt wanna go
I don't wanna go
I don't wanna go
I don't wanna go
Keeping A Lid On It
The often-repeated old saw about how a Dominant must exercise a great deal of self-control came up in conversation the other night.
It's been on My mind.
It is, 100% true of course. But as with many simple, well-circulated, and non-controversial concepts, a funny thing happens: We stop thinking about the idea in question, and assign it to some convenient but not necessarily primary part of our brains, somewhere between the times tables and the lyrcis to the theme song from Cheers.
In this particular case, letting the idea of Dominance and self-control sit unused in the attic does us a disservice -- there is a lot of value hiding, or at least not obvious, there.
And what's hidden is this: The value of self-control for a Dom/me lies not only in controlling the negative emotions but in controlling the positive ones as well.
Sounds . . . ridiculous, perhaps. It fairly easy to see how not reacting in anger is key for the One in control, but why should One ever hold back any positive emotions?
Because . . . everything is temporary. Anger fades, as it should. And when angry we rarely put forth what is truly deeply inside us. But euphoria is equally temporary; I have seen many more bad decisions made when people get caught up in the moment (of intense happiness or closeness) than when people are angry. We seem to have (most of us, anyway) a certain innate recognition that anger will soon cool, but no corresponding warning flag that suggests to us that our current state of absolute happiness is not likely to last in its intensity either.
Both anger and intense positive emotoins create states in which decision-making and judgment are impaired.
The Dom/me shouldn't trust any intense states when deciding on reward, puinishment, or certainly any "big issues" concerning the state of the Owner/owned relationship. Who each person is, is shown, over and over, every day, in the mundane, otherwise unremarkable, ebb and flow of a being in each other's presence. And that real person is known to us, without words, without having to think about it.
The rest might look good and feel great (or look really bad and feel horrible). But in the end it doesn't matter so much an hour later.
It's been on My mind.
It is, 100% true of course. But as with many simple, well-circulated, and non-controversial concepts, a funny thing happens: We stop thinking about the idea in question, and assign it to some convenient but not necessarily primary part of our brains, somewhere between the times tables and the lyrcis to the theme song from Cheers.
In this particular case, letting the idea of Dominance and self-control sit unused in the attic does us a disservice -- there is a lot of value hiding, or at least not obvious, there.
And what's hidden is this: The value of self-control for a Dom/me lies not only in controlling the negative emotions but in controlling the positive ones as well.
Sounds . . . ridiculous, perhaps. It fairly easy to see how not reacting in anger is key for the One in control, but why should One ever hold back any positive emotions?
Because . . . everything is temporary. Anger fades, as it should. And when angry we rarely put forth what is truly deeply inside us. But euphoria is equally temporary; I have seen many more bad decisions made when people get caught up in the moment (of intense happiness or closeness) than when people are angry. We seem to have (most of us, anyway) a certain innate recognition that anger will soon cool, but no corresponding warning flag that suggests to us that our current state of absolute happiness is not likely to last in its intensity either.
Both anger and intense positive emotoins create states in which decision-making and judgment are impaired.
The Dom/me shouldn't trust any intense states when deciding on reward, puinishment, or certainly any "big issues" concerning the state of the Owner/owned relationship. Who each person is, is shown, over and over, every day, in the mundane, otherwise unremarkable, ebb and flow of a being in each other's presence. And that real person is known to us, without words, without having to think about it.
The rest might look good and feel great (or look really bad and feel horrible). But in the end it doesn't matter so much an hour later.
YouTube Tuesday: Dani California
Great song, and a cool video, wherein the Peppers channel various bands starting with Elvis and working their way forward.
And more insight into the Peppers' love/hate relationship with the place they call home.
"She's a lover baby and a fighter
Shoulda seen it coming when it got a little brighter
With a name like Dani California
The day was gonna come when I was gonna mourn ya
A little loaded, she was stealing another breath
I love my baby to death
California rest in peace
Simultaneous release
California show your teeth
She's my priestess, I'm your priest"
And more insight into the Peppers' love/hate relationship with the place they call home.
"She's a lover baby and a fighter
Shoulda seen it coming when it got a little brighter
With a name like Dani California
The day was gonna come when I was gonna mourn ya
A little loaded, she was stealing another breath
I love my baby to death
California rest in peace
Simultaneous release
California show your teeth
She's my priestess, I'm your priest"
YouTube Tuesday: Happy 2008
This post and video have nothing to do with New Year's, specifically, but New Year's (which I pretty much loathe) gets Me thinking about the obvious stuff -- what's old and what's new, but also about how starting over really means pulling the best out of the worst, sometimes be recovering what we once had and sometimes by being something completely new. Of course. we're no different just because the calendar changes, but we cling to the possibility that we can be, that we might be.
That's the brilliance, and the hopelessness, of humanity both at once.
But, you might rightfully ask, what's a video of the Beatles performing on a rooftop got to do with any of that?
The rooftop concert was a completely spur of the moment thing; basically they said let's do it, got the equipment hauled up to the rooftop of the Apple Records building, and played a few songs before a growing crowd of midday Londoners.
It took place in 1969, very close to the end of the group. Too much fame, too much money, too much infighting, too many drugs, and too much of everything had long since determined the outcome -- that the Beatles actually stayed together as long as they did is surprising. By all accounts that last eighteen months of the Beatles' existence was a living hell for all concerned.
And yet, out of that morass of negativity, rising straight up for a brief moment out of that vortex of fear and loathing, four guys from Liverpool who never expected to do much more than make enough to get by on rose above, and just made music, like they used to, what it was always supposed to be about. With a sense of fun, with reckless abandon, with no tickets, no agents, no contracts, no groupies, none of it.
And we get to go along for the ride, on film.
Happy 2008 to all. Get back to where you once belonged.
That's the brilliance, and the hopelessness, of humanity both at once.
But, you might rightfully ask, what's a video of the Beatles performing on a rooftop got to do with any of that?
The rooftop concert was a completely spur of the moment thing; basically they said let's do it, got the equipment hauled up to the rooftop of the Apple Records building, and played a few songs before a growing crowd of midday Londoners.
It took place in 1969, very close to the end of the group. Too much fame, too much money, too much infighting, too many drugs, and too much of everything had long since determined the outcome -- that the Beatles actually stayed together as long as they did is surprising. By all accounts that last eighteen months of the Beatles' existence was a living hell for all concerned.
And yet, out of that morass of negativity, rising straight up for a brief moment out of that vortex of fear and loathing, four guys from Liverpool who never expected to do much more than make enough to get by on rose above, and just made music, like they used to, what it was always supposed to be about. With a sense of fun, with reckless abandon, with no tickets, no agents, no contracts, no groupies, none of it.
And we get to go along for the ride, on film.
Happy 2008 to all. Get back to where you once belonged.
YouTube Tuesday (close enough): Christmas Edition
Rock Christmas songs . . . generally suck.
There are a few (very few) exceptions, and the best of the entire lot never gets any airtime at Christmas, by and large. And that's "Father Christmas" by the Kinks.
Leaps and bounds better than Springsteen's goofy, boozy cover of "Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town," not even worth a comparison to that Christmas rock junk from the 50s and 60s, "Father Christmas" is the goods.
I couldn't find a good quality video of the Kinks performing the song, but this video is fun, set to the Kinks' version.
Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays to all.
There are a few (very few) exceptions, and the best of the entire lot never gets any airtime at Christmas, by and large. And that's "Father Christmas" by the Kinks.
Leaps and bounds better than Springsteen's goofy, boozy cover of "Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town," not even worth a comparison to that Christmas rock junk from the 50s and 60s, "Father Christmas" is the goods.
I couldn't find a good quality video of the Kinks performing the song, but this video is fun, set to the Kinks' version.
Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays to all.
"Forces Of Chaos And Anarchy"
"We are forces of chaos and anarchy
Everything they say we are, we are --
And we are very proud of ourselves."
Those Jefferson Airplane lyrics are almost forty years old now. The 60s are longer ago than most people realize.
But on hearing the song by chance the other day, I got to thinking about D/s, and "forces of chaos and anarchy."
D/s clearly is a disruptive force in society, or could be, and I mean "disruptive" in the best possible way. That D/s is not a political entity is solely the result of its practitioners being overwhelmingly, tightly, closeted.
D/s people are not in a dissimilar place to where gays and lesbians were when the Jefferson Airplane was singing "We Can Be Together." And our society is just as uninterested and hostile to exposure to any form of alternative sexuality as society was 40 years ago regarding same-sex love. But D/s people rarely if ever feel like an oppressed minority, since most are happy to be private or at most involved with small groups of trusted like-minded people.
Nor are we monolithic; a D/s voting bloc is not ever happening -- I've met plenty of people in this life who I wished I lived in the same state as simply so that I could nullify their vote with Mine. I have no illusions that D/s people, numerous as we might be, will ever be a political "force" in traditional terms.
But as forces of chaos and anarchy? As an invigorating disruptor beam fired into the increasingly conformist, complacent and rapidly darkening, hardening, collective heart?
It's not an unappealing thought . . .
[In the spirit of anarchy, no YouTube Tuesday post tonight. Hey, it's a start!]
YouTube Tuesday: Too Hot For YouTube
Tonight's video was created by yours truly, and actually was posted on youtube for a couple of days before the youtube sex police caught a glimpse of partial nudity and the video was taken down.
Anyway, here it is in all its unabridged glory. It's just a little slide show, the theme of which quickly becomes evident.
Anyway, here it is in all its unabridged glory. It's just a little slide show, the theme of which quickly becomes evident.
YouTube Tuesday: 80s Rule, Part 4
I was sitting here, drawing a total blank for YouTube Tuesday, when it came to Me: "Dancing in the Sheets" by Shalamar.
This one's got it all . . . disco Zorro, a swashbuckling guitarist, headbands that defy description, a little robot dancing, and 80s wonderfulness by the truckload. Plus it ended up on the Footlose soundtrack -- I mean, is there any higher 80s honor?
It seems like yesterday I would listen to this song and 1) wish that I were old enough to go to cool nightclubs, and 2) probably thought that stuff like that actually happened in said cool nightclubs.
"grab your coat and wave goodbye to your friends
i wanna take you where the night never ends
i feel the need to sweep you off of your feet
you and me we should be dancing in the sheets"
This one's got it all . . . disco Zorro, a swashbuckling guitarist, headbands that defy description, a little robot dancing, and 80s wonderfulness by the truckload. Plus it ended up on the Footlose soundtrack -- I mean, is there any higher 80s honor?
It seems like yesterday I would listen to this song and 1) wish that I were old enough to go to cool nightclubs, and 2) probably thought that stuff like that actually happened in said cool nightclubs.
"grab your coat and wave goodbye to your friends
i wanna take you where the night never ends
i feel the need to sweep you off of your feet
you and me we should be dancing in the sheets"
Change Time
Every season there is a day heralds the change. The day can fall right at the "right" time or it can fall way early, or way late.
It snowed yesterday morning, an inch or so. But yesterday wasn't the day that winter jostled its way into My thoughts to stay. That snow was followed by a dreary drizzly misty day and by this morning no trace of the white stuff remained.
But today was the day that snubbed out the last embers of fall. Cold, blustery, a peek of sun in the morning and then slate gray overcast the rest of the day. It doesn't matter that some trees still have leaves on them. It doesn't matter that the first frost was three weeks ago. It doesn't matter that officially, it's two weeks plus until the Winter Solstice.
Fall is dead. Winter is here.
I find my thoughts wandering to that day, so far away it seems now, that drives a stake through winter's heart and tells Me it's spring.
YouTube Tuesday: 80s rule, Part 3
Tonight belongs to 80s hearthrob Rick Springfield, soap opera hottie turned rock star. It was close between "Jessie's Girl" and this selection, but "Don't Talk to Strangers" won out by a teased hair.
Springfield just sells this song so well . . . he doesn't betray one iota of being in on the joke, which would've ruined the whole thing. And, is that two of the band members doing a little homage to the Hall and Oates "Private Eyes" video there for a couple of seconds?
Well, you could never reach the pop icon status that Hall and Oates ascended to, Rick, but, for a little while you were the 80s. Hubba Hubba.
"Now who's this someone I been hearin' of?
Love hurts when only one's in love
Did you fall at first sight or did you need a shove?
I'm beggin' you -- please! -- don't talk to strangers . . . "
Springfield just sells this song so well . . . he doesn't betray one iota of being in on the joke, which would've ruined the whole thing. And, is that two of the band members doing a little homage to the Hall and Oates "Private Eyes" video there for a couple of seconds?
Well, you could never reach the pop icon status that Hall and Oates ascended to, Rick, but, for a little while you were the 80s. Hubba Hubba.
"Now who's this someone I been hearin' of?
Love hurts when only one's in love
Did you fall at first sight or did you need a shove?
I'm beggin' you -- please! -- don't talk to strangers . . . "
Reasons To Be Thankful
In no particular order . . .
1. I am thankful that I live where I live. For all its faults and missteps and often hideous policies, the United States still offers the most freedom and opportunity for the most people.
2. I am thankful to live when I live. I've been blessed to live in an age where technology accelerates seemingly on a daily basis, and it's truly exciting to see what will come next.
3. I am thankful to have what I have. Like everyone, I fantasize about winning the Powerball, but when I start to think that what I have isn't enough, I realize how different it all could be.
4. I am thankful for the opportunity that this blog and the Internet medium provides for Me to put My thoughts and feelings and creative endeavors out there. The value of being able to do this simple thing, so easy to take for granted, can't be underestimated.
5. I am thankful for being alive, for the chance, however small it might be, to touch My entire potential and to become something more.
6. I am thankful beyond words for the love, devotion, and submission of iris, storm, and tasha. That they are who they are, they they've become who they've become, is a constant source of humbling amazement for Me. I love them more than I know how to express, more than I can fathom. And I thank them from the bottom of My heart for all that they are and do.
I wish everyone a very happy and joyful Holiday season.
1. I am thankful that I live where I live. For all its faults and missteps and often hideous policies, the United States still offers the most freedom and opportunity for the most people.
2. I am thankful to live when I live. I've been blessed to live in an age where technology accelerates seemingly on a daily basis, and it's truly exciting to see what will come next.
3. I am thankful to have what I have. Like everyone, I fantasize about winning the Powerball, but when I start to think that what I have isn't enough, I realize how different it all could be.
4. I am thankful for the opportunity that this blog and the Internet medium provides for Me to put My thoughts and feelings and creative endeavors out there. The value of being able to do this simple thing, so easy to take for granted, can't be underestimated.
5. I am thankful for being alive, for the chance, however small it might be, to touch My entire potential and to become something more.
6. I am thankful beyond words for the love, devotion, and submission of iris, storm, and tasha. That they are who they are, they they've become who they've become, is a constant source of humbling amazement for Me. I love them more than I know how to express, more than I can fathom. And I thank them from the bottom of My heart for all that they are and do.
I wish everyone a very happy and joyful Holiday season.
Spaiku
The following are haiku composed entirely from the subject lines of spam e-mails I've received. Presenting the wit and wisdom of . . . Spaiku.
1.
College sluts on cam
Young gal ruthlessly gangbanged
Viagra by mail!
2.
Tax refund notice
You've won Polish lottery
Christmas is coming.
3.
Young whore gets tit-fucked
Chubby grandma gets boned, icy,
hot, and everything.
1.
College sluts on cam
Young gal ruthlessly gangbanged
Viagra by mail!
2.
Tax refund notice
You've won Polish lottery
Christmas is coming.
3.
Young whore gets tit-fucked
Chubby grandma gets boned, icy,
hot, and everything.
YouTube Tuesday: Not The Usual Cute Cat Video
There are, I think, 2.4 billion cat videos on youtube. If I'm not careful I can get sucked into a KVV (Kitty Video Vortex) and hours might go by while I watch clip after clip of the world's most wonderful creatures.
This one is a little different. No balls of string. No 4-foot vertical leaps into the crotch of unsuspecting humans. No frenzied dashes. No feline Ultimate Fighting.
In this video, Kona and Hilo take on the big issues.
And yes, cats are capable of making phone calls, texting, and operating a remote.
Yeah.
This one is a little different. No balls of string. No 4-foot vertical leaps into the crotch of unsuspecting humans. No frenzied dashes. No feline Ultimate Fighting.
In this video, Kona and Hilo take on the big issues.
And yes, cats are capable of making phone calls, texting, and operating a remote.
Yeah.
Roadside Flare
One day so easily blends into the next. Before I know it I'm staring at the fact that the last three posts on this blog have been Youtube Tuesday entries. YTT is supposed to be weekly fun filler, not the entree here.
It's difficult not to feel guilty. I tend to think of Myself as someone with plenty to say and, well, no one would have a blog if she truly thought that what she had to say was totally worthless, would she?
So, plenty to say. It's worth saying. So . . . where's all the posts?
There is no simple answer. I start 4-5 non-YTT posts for every one that eventually gets published. (You will have to be the judge of whether the fact that what you see here is the product of intense scrutiny/selection is heartening, or depressing.)
There is work. There is the rest of life. There's all the usual other reasons. In the end I fall back on what I always say, rendered no less true for being familiar: I'm working on it. When the posts and stories are ready, they'll pour out. In the meantime, I'm reading you all, even if you don't see Me, thanks to the feed reader, and following your adventures avidly.
More soon. Really. KAHTATUS.
YouTube Tuesday (One Day Late): The Best Reason To Watch NCIS
I like NCIS. The mysteries are . . . well, let's just say Arthur Conan Doyle isn't feeling the heat form beyond the grave. But the writing is decent, the acting is pretty good, and there's a little humor here and there amidst the drama. Mark Harmon is getting a little frayed around the edges but he's perfect in this, Lauren Holly still looks damn good, and there are some fun supporting players.
But the best reason to watch NCIS is Abby. And at least one youtuber feels the same way.
But the best reason to watch NCIS is Abby. And at least one youtuber feels the same way.
YouTube Tuesday: 80s Rule, Part 2
Tonight's trip down 80s Lane is "Sex," by Berlin.
This helping of slick synth-pop has it all -- lyrics that got it banned in some places ("banning" is a quaint notion that the youngest adults might not recall), instantly interesting subject matter (sex, duh), and two icons of 80s gorgeousness, John Crawford and Teri Nunn.
The drama! The clothes! The hair! The accessories! 80s Rule!
This helping of slick synth-pop has it all -- lyrics that got it banned in some places ("banning" is a quaint notion that the youngest adults might not recall), instantly interesting subject matter (sex, duh), and two icons of 80s gorgeousness, John Crawford and Teri Nunn.
The drama! The clothes! The hair! The accessories! 80s Rule!
YouTube Tuesday: 80s Rule, Part 1
Tonight's video is Falco's worldwide smash "Rock Me Amadeus." Aside from being a great, fun song, Falco makes a sharp comment on the nature of hero worship and opines that Mozart was the world's first rock star.
Falco died in 1998 and never tasted lasting success in the US, but he had a solid career in Europe and best of all, produced at least one bona fide 80s gem.
I have no idea how accurate this may or may not be, but Google translates the lyrics as:
He was a punker
And he lived in the big city
It was in Vienna, was vienna
Where did it all
He had owe because he drank
But he loved all women
And every exclaimed:
Come and rock me Amadeus Come and rock me Amadeus
He was a superstar
He was popular
He was so eccentric
Because he had flair
He was a virtuoso
Was a rockidol
And all cried:
Come and rock me Amadeus Come and rock me Amadeus
Amadeus, Amadeus .. Amadeus, Amadeus ...
It was around 1780
And it was in vienna
No plastic money anymore
The banks against him
Where did owe the
Was well known anyone
He was a man of women
Women loved his punk
He was a superstar
He was popular
He was so eccentric
Because he had flair
He was a virtuoso
Was a rockidol
And all cried:
Come and rock me Amadeus Come and rock me Amadeus
Amadeus, Amadeus... Amadeus, Amadeus ...
Falco died in 1998 and never tasted lasting success in the US, but he had a solid career in Europe and best of all, produced at least one bona fide 80s gem.
I have no idea how accurate this may or may not be, but Google translates the lyrics as:
He was a punker
And he lived in the big city
It was in Vienna, was vienna
Where did it all
He had owe because he drank
But he loved all women
And every exclaimed:
Come and rock me Amadeus Come and rock me Amadeus
He was a superstar
He was popular
He was so eccentric
Because he had flair
He was a virtuoso
Was a rockidol
And all cried:
Come and rock me Amadeus Come and rock me Amadeus
Amadeus, Amadeus .. Amadeus, Amadeus ...
It was around 1780
And it was in vienna
No plastic money anymore
The banks against him
Where did owe the
Was well known anyone
He was a man of women
Women loved his punk
He was a superstar
He was popular
He was so eccentric
Because he had flair
He was a virtuoso
Was a rockidol
And all cried:
Come and rock me Amadeus Come and rock me Amadeus
Amadeus, Amadeus... Amadeus, Amadeus ...
Rolling Your Own And Enjoying It Less?
A girl came into the room yesterday. A first-time visitor I'll call saturnia (not her real nickname). Those who have ever visited #Enchanted_Palms know that I really bend over backwards to be welcoming and gracious to first-time visitors (sometimes to My own detriment, but that's another story). I do have, however a few very simple rules.
So saturnia comes in . . . she seems pretty normal, nice, etc. Great.
One of My simple rules has to do with the use of "Sir" and "Ma'am" by submissives when addressing Dominants. [The purpose of this post isn't to explain why, but there is a short explanation and a long explanation. The short explanation is "because it's My room and I say so." The long explanation is considerably more enlightening, well thought-out, and, umm . . . longer.]
I do, however, attempt to convey what the rules are in the gentlest way possible. I honestly do find I catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.
So, after waiting a couple minutes, and being addressed just by My name, twice, I say, and I quote:
Lenora smiles . . . it's Sir/Ma'am in here, saturnia . . . thank you
saturnia says "Oh!," "Bye," and leaves.
I understand there are bottoms and there are submissives. I understand that each person feels free to define his or her submission however s/he sees fit and to pursue opportunities to experience that uniquely-defined submission, in day to day life, on-line, in one's fantasy life, etc.
I get all that. And in and of itself it's perfectly reasonable and probably healthy.
But I do cling to the (apparently unpopular) notion that "roll your own"submission is inherently limiting. There is a value in submitting to a situation in which one is not being catered to to the nth degree.
When I say "submitting," I mean . . . bending one's will a bit, not surrendering. Anyone who doesn't understand the difference between submission and surrender shouldn't be exploring any of this in the first place until s/he learns that difference.
Submitting to the situation means putting aside for a little while that idealized menu we all carry around in our heads, and looking, experiencing, considering, another way. Not to change everything about one's self, but simply to add something new to the inventory. Perhaps it's discarded soon afterwards, perhaps not -- in either case one is richer for the experience.
Exploring submission is not like learning basket-weaving or auto repair or real estate law. Unlike just about any other field of human endeavor, exploring submission of necessity entails moving outside of the totality of what one thought one wanted to do.
I am not talking about exposing one's self to anything illegal, dangerous, damaging, etc. I am talking about stopping a moment, considering the possibility that 100% self-defined submission might not be all there is, since it lacks the essential "other" element: that entity to be submitted to. And in that, the realization that there is not only a value, but a real beauty in simple, non-dramatic, garden variety, non-surrendering submission. And along with the beauty, afterwards, a quiet sense of accomplishment that can feel very warm and real.
So saturnia comes in . . . she seems pretty normal, nice, etc. Great.
One of My simple rules has to do with the use of "Sir" and "Ma'am" by submissives when addressing Dominants. [The purpose of this post isn't to explain why, but there is a short explanation and a long explanation. The short explanation is "because it's My room and I say so." The long explanation is considerably more enlightening, well thought-out, and, umm . . . longer.]
I do, however, attempt to convey what the rules are in the gentlest way possible. I honestly do find I catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.
So, after waiting a couple minutes, and being addressed just by My name, twice, I say, and I quote:
Lenora smiles . . . it's Sir/Ma'am in here, saturnia . . . thank you
saturnia says "Oh!," "Bye," and leaves.
I understand there are bottoms and there are submissives. I understand that each person feels free to define his or her submission however s/he sees fit and to pursue opportunities to experience that uniquely-defined submission, in day to day life, on-line, in one's fantasy life, etc.
I get all that. And in and of itself it's perfectly reasonable and probably healthy.
But I do cling to the (apparently unpopular) notion that "roll your own"submission is inherently limiting. There is a value in submitting to a situation in which one is not being catered to to the nth degree.
When I say "submitting," I mean . . . bending one's will a bit, not surrendering. Anyone who doesn't understand the difference between submission and surrender shouldn't be exploring any of this in the first place until s/he learns that difference.
Submitting to the situation means putting aside for a little while that idealized menu we all carry around in our heads, and looking, experiencing, considering, another way. Not to change everything about one's self, but simply to add something new to the inventory. Perhaps it's discarded soon afterwards, perhaps not -- in either case one is richer for the experience.
Exploring submission is not like learning basket-weaving or auto repair or real estate law. Unlike just about any other field of human endeavor, exploring submission of necessity entails moving outside of the totality of what one thought one wanted to do.
I am not talking about exposing one's self to anything illegal, dangerous, damaging, etc. I am talking about stopping a moment, considering the possibility that 100% self-defined submission might not be all there is, since it lacks the essential "other" element: that entity to be submitted to. And in that, the realization that there is not only a value, but a real beauty in simple, non-dramatic, garden variety, non-surrendering submission. And along with the beauty, afterwards, a quiet sense of accomplishment that can feel very warm and real.
YouTube Tuesday: Fast-Forward Bondage
A fun little clip of a girl getting tied up . . . very professionally done, but the speed has been turned up quite a bit. Seeing the normal speed version might actually be good as an instructional piece, but the frantically-paced clip is fun, and the music, "Tear You Apart" by She Wants Revenge, works nicely.
On Delurking, Feed Readers, and The Big Gap
Recently there was a "mass delurking" day in the sex blog world, a day when those who regularly read but never comment were supposed to leave a comment, letting the author(s) know they existed. It's a great idea . . . I know how many visits I get a day (100 or so, typically) and I know how many comments I get (one or two a week); it would be nice for more readers to make their existence known.
I didn't know about this particular delurking day and if I had I'd have made a "please delurk" post, but frankly, I wouldn't have expected much; I've asked people to delurk before and the response has been, shall we say, underwhleming in the extreme.
That got Me to thinking about My own lurking. We all (or just about all) read a lot more blogs than we comment upon. But I've found in My case, and I suspect the experience of others might be similar, since I started using a feed reader, I lurk even more and comment even less.
For those not totally familiar, a feed reader "pushes" new posts from each blog (or site) you subscribe to, so that you see the post in your feed reader screen (Google Reader, in My case), as opposed to having to visit (and remember to visit) every blog on My link list.
It's very convenient -- one never "leaves home," as it were, and automatically stays current with all the blogs one wants to.
But it has its drawbacks.
One, I think it encourages lurking. There is no way to comment upon the pushed post without navigating to the post in its original environment,. It's just an extra step and extra steps always limit use, at least to some degree.
Two, one can not see the comments left by others, only the original post. To see them means, again, going to the original post. See above.
Three, one doesn't see the layout of the original page. I enjoy seeing who has changed layouts and how often/why. There are many blogs on My link list for which I've read every post made the last three months but for which I have not landed on the actual site once since setting up the feed.
Three-A, not seeing the layout means not seeing the link list either. Some of My best finds were from the link lists of blogs I link to. As blogs appear and disappear, I miss that source of new inspirations.
So, the reader environment is convenient in the extreme, but limited and sterile.
The other differing aspect of using a reader is that I am not recording any "visits" to the linked-to blogs and thus not being shown in their counters for visits, page reads, etc. I assume that there are some stats being kept somewhere regarding how many "reads" there are via the feed, but it's not the same. By using the reader I have ceased to be part of that constantly-aggregating number at the bottom of the screen. And something about that I don't like.
So, if your blog is on My link list . . . I am reading, actually more faithfully than I was prior to setting up the feed reader (Piper -- set up a feed! yours is the only blog on My list I can't find a feed for!) . . . and I'll make a more concerted effort to jump over and comment more, and/or just to poke around and see what's new, graphically and link-list wise.
I didn't know about this particular delurking day and if I had I'd have made a "please delurk" post, but frankly, I wouldn't have expected much; I've asked people to delurk before and the response has been, shall we say, underwhleming in the extreme.
That got Me to thinking about My own lurking. We all (or just about all) read a lot more blogs than we comment upon. But I've found in My case, and I suspect the experience of others might be similar, since I started using a feed reader, I lurk even more and comment even less.
For those not totally familiar, a feed reader "pushes" new posts from each blog (or site) you subscribe to, so that you see the post in your feed reader screen (Google Reader, in My case), as opposed to having to visit (and remember to visit) every blog on My link list.
It's very convenient -- one never "leaves home," as it were, and automatically stays current with all the blogs one wants to.
But it has its drawbacks.
One, I think it encourages lurking. There is no way to comment upon the pushed post without navigating to the post in its original environment,. It's just an extra step and extra steps always limit use, at least to some degree.
Two, one can not see the comments left by others, only the original post. To see them means, again, going to the original post. See above.
Three, one doesn't see the layout of the original page. I enjoy seeing who has changed layouts and how often/why. There are many blogs on My link list for which I've read every post made the last three months but for which I have not landed on the actual site once since setting up the feed.
Three-A, not seeing the layout means not seeing the link list either. Some of My best finds were from the link lists of blogs I link to. As blogs appear and disappear, I miss that source of new inspirations.
So, the reader environment is convenient in the extreme, but limited and sterile.
The other differing aspect of using a reader is that I am not recording any "visits" to the linked-to blogs and thus not being shown in their counters for visits, page reads, etc. I assume that there are some stats being kept somewhere regarding how many "reads" there are via the feed, but it's not the same. By using the reader I have ceased to be part of that constantly-aggregating number at the bottom of the screen. And something about that I don't like.
So, if your blog is on My link list . . . I am reading, actually more faithfully than I was prior to setting up the feed reader (Piper -- set up a feed! yours is the only blog on My list I can't find a feed for!) . . . and I'll make a more concerted effort to jump over and comment more, and/or just to poke around and see what's new, graphically and link-list wise.
Sigourney Weaver?
Piper recently wrote about a funny thing that happened during sex. Piper had coaxed her partner into talking about a fantasy of his, and it involved Piper and another woman. Piper of course just has to ask who that other woman might be and gets the pull-up-short answer:
Sigourney Weaver.
My reaction was an audible "What the ----?" followed by a good laugh. I'm not sure why I laughed, but I do agree with Piper's assessment:
"No offense to Ms. Weaver. I actually think she is quite attractive. She has a unique look and is not the classic Hollywood bombshell. It's just that I could have guessed 100 actresses and she wouldn't have been a blip on my radar."
And there is just something really funny about her name being the answer to that question. I don't know what it is . . . but . . .
Look at the bright side. He didn't say someone really old, someone really young, or someone who's dead. He didn't mention anyone related to him, currently serving time for a violent crime, or related to you. He didn't say your best friend, an ex-, or your worst enemy (not that you'd actually have any enemies).
So in the grand scheme of things "Sigourney Weaver" is actually a pretty good answer.
But in general, Piper, the trial lawyers' dictum applies well here:Don't ask any question you don't already know the answer to.
Happy weekend, everyone. KAHTATUS.
YouTube Tuesday: The Perfect Pop Song, Irresistible Disco/Pop Division
Back we go in pursuit of the Perfect Pop Song, and tonight's entry is a strong contender, "Rock DJ" by Robbie Williams.
This is pop: Singable, dance-able, bouncy, infectious. Clever lyrics you just have to learn and then easily forget a week later.
This just might be the one.
Disclaimer: The video might be kind of disturbing to some. Let's say Robbie takes the concept of "stripping" to its (il-)logical conclusion.
"Singin' in the classes
Music for your masses
Give no head
No backstage passes
Have a proper giggle
I'll be quite polite
But when I rock the mike
I rock the mike (right)
You got no love then you're with the wrong man
It's time to move your body
If you can't get a girl but your best friend can
It's time to move your body "
This is pop: Singable, dance-able, bouncy, infectious. Clever lyrics you just have to learn and then easily forget a week later.
This just might be the one.
Disclaimer: The video might be kind of disturbing to some. Let's say Robbie takes the concept of "stripping" to its (il-)logical conclusion.
"Singin' in the classes
Music for your masses
Give no head
No backstage passes
Have a proper giggle
I'll be quite polite
But when I rock the mike
I rock the mike (right)
You got no love then you're with the wrong man
It's time to move your body
If you can't get a girl but your best friend can
It's time to move your body "
What Sounds Good . . . Is Good?
swan writes here on the subject of poly relationships. It's a longish post, and to really get the best out of it you'll need to also read an externally-linked short story, but the investment in time is well worth it.
swan discusses briefly, the "easy" notion that "more love makes more love":
Poly people are fond of saying that "more love makes more love." It is one of those cute, clever, insider slogan-ish bits that we toss off to try and make things sound bright and easy and palatable to all the ones from outside who would look into our lives and make negative judgements. It is right up there on a par with the ubiquitous BDSM slogan, "SSC" (Safe, Sane, and Consensual). It really doesn't mean nearly as much as it seems to on the face of it, and once you start to know a little bit about the reality of things, that quick, glib, clever little throwaway line starts to pale some.
I have to say . . . yes, and no. The reason we "make things sound bright and easy" is not only to deflect negative judgments. It's also because 1) being positively-oriented is inherently less draining than being negatively-oriented, and 2) we sense the grain of truth in the "easy" statement, and we can't help responding to that, even though the wizened, hardened folks we want to think the world has made us would dismiss the idea completely.
In some cases more love actually does make more love. All? Most? No, I won't go there. Life and jealousy and sickness and petty annoyances and all those negative (if mostly silent) judgments do get in the way. And certainly, as swan notes, there is no standard configuration, no neat, logically-consistent (albeit tenuous) hierarchy of infinities like those that govern transfinite mathematics. So, to say it trivially but truthfully, your mileage will vary. A lot.
But it occurs to Me that the most radical thing one can do in this is to be the romantic. Wow. I wonder how many of us are strong (or foolish?) enough, often enough?
In any event, I encourage you to read swan's post. Poly or not, you'll find it thought-provoking and intelligent. And the story she links is to pretty entertaining as well.
swan discusses briefly, the "easy" notion that "more love makes more love":
Poly people are fond of saying that "more love makes more love." It is one of those cute, clever, insider slogan-ish bits that we toss off to try and make things sound bright and easy and palatable to all the ones from outside who would look into our lives and make negative judgements. It is right up there on a par with the ubiquitous BDSM slogan, "SSC" (Safe, Sane, and Consensual). It really doesn't mean nearly as much as it seems to on the face of it, and once you start to know a little bit about the reality of things, that quick, glib, clever little throwaway line starts to pale some.
I have to say . . . yes, and no. The reason we "make things sound bright and easy" is not only to deflect negative judgments. It's also because 1) being positively-oriented is inherently less draining than being negatively-oriented, and 2) we sense the grain of truth in the "easy" statement, and we can't help responding to that, even though the wizened, hardened folks we want to think the world has made us would dismiss the idea completely.
In some cases more love actually does make more love. All? Most? No, I won't go there. Life and jealousy and sickness and petty annoyances and all those negative (if mostly silent) judgments do get in the way. And certainly, as swan notes, there is no standard configuration, no neat, logically-consistent (albeit tenuous) hierarchy of infinities like those that govern transfinite mathematics. So, to say it trivially but truthfully, your mileage will vary. A lot.
But it occurs to Me that the most radical thing one can do in this is to be the romantic. Wow. I wonder how many of us are strong (or foolish?) enough, often enough?
In any event, I encourage you to read swan's post. Poly or not, you'll find it thought-provoking and intelligent. And the story she links is to pretty entertaining as well.
YouTube Tuesday: Goth Girls Are Easy
A fun little music video I found while prowling around the dark corners of youtube this evening. The band is called Lesbian Bed Death . . . but fortunately they're better at music than at coming up with good band names.
As for goth girls being easy . . . I'm sure they're not all that way, but it's an appealing thought . . .
As for goth girls being easy . . . I'm sure they're not all that way, but it's an appealing thought . . .
Lesdership Styles In D/s, Part 2
I brought Part 1 to an abrupt end with this:
"The Leader (Coach/Manager/Dom/me) has to be confident enough to be flexible enough."
Flexibility is a very tricky area. Many (including Me, on this blog, on several occasions) mention the importance of consistency, particularly in D/s interactions because the emotions are so exposed and magnified. And consistency is hugely important. How then to be "flexible" and consistent?
I see two parts to the answer: 1) to understand that consistency of strategy doesn't have to always mean consistency of tactics, and 2) to have the confidence that 1) can be implemented and that whatever misunderstandings might ensue as a result can be worked out.
Disclaimer: There are a lot of Dominants who are confident in their abilities who actually shouldn't be. I'm going to embrace a rare (for Me) "consumerist" point of view here and caution all submissives that confidence is often inversely proportional to ability and understanding, and to be very careful.
Consistency of strategy vs. consistency of tactics . . . in other words, understanding that while the destination doesn't change, there can be many roads that lead to it. The danger is that the submissive may get hung up on the change in tactics and begin to feel set adrift, unsure of the ground beneath him or her. [I don't like to draw a lot of gender differences in these things but in My experience a female submissive it seems is more likely to fall into that trap.]
What prevents that from happening is the vigilance and understanding of the Dominant. It's incumbent upon the Dom/me to be watchful for changes in the submissive's behavior that signal that either 1) the different tactic isn't working, and/or 2) the submissive feels abandoned.
And of course the Dom/me needs to be smart and at a certain point stop what doesn't work. The good Dom/me is constantly "making things up," as in . . . finding new and different ways to deliver the same message; S/He isn't tied to one approach, one tactic, while the underlying message remains totally and comfortingly consistent.
Lastly, "communication" rears its venerable head. The Dom/me has to be confident enough to admit that S/He isn't possessed of all the answers, that S/He is constantly searching for the best way to lead and to communicate, and that S/He is committed to all those improvements, short and long term.
While we all have Our leadership styles, the important thing is to realize that the one(s) we lead, their well-being and growth, are more important than holding fast to a style. And that in pursuit of that, often, many different styles are necessary.
"The Leader (Coach/Manager/Dom/me) has to be confident enough to be flexible enough."
Flexibility is a very tricky area. Many (including Me, on this blog, on several occasions) mention the importance of consistency, particularly in D/s interactions because the emotions are so exposed and magnified. And consistency is hugely important. How then to be "flexible" and consistent?
I see two parts to the answer: 1) to understand that consistency of strategy doesn't have to always mean consistency of tactics, and 2) to have the confidence that 1) can be implemented and that whatever misunderstandings might ensue as a result can be worked out.
Disclaimer: There are a lot of Dominants who are confident in their abilities who actually shouldn't be. I'm going to embrace a rare (for Me) "consumerist" point of view here and caution all submissives that confidence is often inversely proportional to ability and understanding, and to be very careful.
Consistency of strategy vs. consistency of tactics . . . in other words, understanding that while the destination doesn't change, there can be many roads that lead to it. The danger is that the submissive may get hung up on the change in tactics and begin to feel set adrift, unsure of the ground beneath him or her. [I don't like to draw a lot of gender differences in these things but in My experience a female submissive it seems is more likely to fall into that trap.]
What prevents that from happening is the vigilance and understanding of the Dominant. It's incumbent upon the Dom/me to be watchful for changes in the submissive's behavior that signal that either 1) the different tactic isn't working, and/or 2) the submissive feels abandoned.
And of course the Dom/me needs to be smart and at a certain point stop what doesn't work. The good Dom/me is constantly "making things up," as in . . . finding new and different ways to deliver the same message; S/He isn't tied to one approach, one tactic, while the underlying message remains totally and comfortingly consistent.
Lastly, "communication" rears its venerable head. The Dom/me has to be confident enough to admit that S/He isn't possessed of all the answers, that S/He is constantly searching for the best way to lead and to communicate, and that S/He is committed to all those improvements, short and long term.
While we all have Our leadership styles, the important thing is to realize that the one(s) we lead, their well-being and growth, are more important than holding fast to a style. And that in pursuit of that, often, many different styles are necessary.
Leadership Styles in D/s, Part 1
Sports analogies carried forward into business and real life can be overdone and certainly often are. But every now and then something that happens in the world of sports gets Me thinking about situations in D/s.
As you may or may not know, the New York Mets recently blew a large lead in the last two weeks of the season and ended up out of the playoffs. The "collapse" was historic in its proportions. And what's a good collapse without assigning blame?
Listening to sports talk radio in the wake of this debacle, hosts and callers and "experts" have various theories about who should get how much of said blame. And many want to lay a good portion of the blame on the Mets' manager, Wilie Randolph.
One thing that the Willie-blamers say is that Willie's personality is too low key. He doesn't get in players' faces; he doesn't argue much with umpires; he's not the locker-room tirade after a bad loss type.
The classic response to those who want a more fiery Willie Randolph is: "He has to be who he is. It's not his nature to be 'fiery.' "
And there, finally, is the point (I could hear your impatience).
To those who toss out the old chestnut that "That isn't Willie," I respond:
A good leader is less concerned with holding to some abstract conception of Him- or Herself and more concerned with eliciting the desired results from those S/He is leading.
Meaning, in baseball, in business, in D/s, the boss has to do what's necessary, to be who S/He needs to be, to get those being led to respond. Within the normal strictures of course of what is moral/legal/safe bla bla bla . . . let's not lose our way in Disclaimerville.
The Leader (Coach/Manager/Dom/me) has to be confident enough to be flexible enough.
More on that in Part 2.
As you may or may not know, the New York Mets recently blew a large lead in the last two weeks of the season and ended up out of the playoffs. The "collapse" was historic in its proportions. And what's a good collapse without assigning blame?
Listening to sports talk radio in the wake of this debacle, hosts and callers and "experts" have various theories about who should get how much of said blame. And many want to lay a good portion of the blame on the Mets' manager, Wilie Randolph.
One thing that the Willie-blamers say is that Willie's personality is too low key. He doesn't get in players' faces; he doesn't argue much with umpires; he's not the locker-room tirade after a bad loss type.
The classic response to those who want a more fiery Willie Randolph is: "He has to be who he is. It's not his nature to be 'fiery.' "
And there, finally, is the point (I could hear your impatience).
To those who toss out the old chestnut that "That isn't Willie," I respond:
A good leader is less concerned with holding to some abstract conception of Him- or Herself and more concerned with eliciting the desired results from those S/He is leading.
Meaning, in baseball, in business, in D/s, the boss has to do what's necessary, to be who S/He needs to be, to get those being led to respond. Within the normal strictures of course of what is moral/legal/safe bla bla bla . . . let's not lose our way in Disclaimerville.
The Leader (Coach/Manager/Dom/me) has to be confident enough to be flexible enough.
More on that in Part 2.
YouTube Tuesday: PostSecret
By now most know about Post Secret, a website where collected secrets that people have sent in on postcards have been blogged.
There have been various video collections of postcard secrets made -- this one is one of My favorites, set to, appropriately enough, "Dirty Little Secret" by the All-American Rejects.
Like Post Secret itself, this clip is by turns funny, touching, off-putting, and heartrending.
There have been various video collections of postcard secrets made -- this one is one of My favorites, set to, appropriately enough, "Dirty Little Secret" by the All-American Rejects.
Like Post Secret itself, this clip is by turns funny, touching, off-putting, and heartrending.
YouTube Tuesday: 60 Years of Racing
A little something different for tonight's clip -- a Shell gasoline promotional film celebrating the 60 years of Shell's work with Ferrari.
A race car starts in Rome and tools around various worldwide locations, evolving as it goes. Gorgeous film making, incredible pulse-quickening race-car sound.
A 2-minute thrill ride for the eyes, ears, and imagination.
A race car starts in Rome and tools around various worldwide locations, evolving as it goes. Gorgeous film making, incredible pulse-quickening race-car sound.
A 2-minute thrill ride for the eyes, ears, and imagination.
YouTube Tuesday: I Wanna Be Sedated
A little break from the "Perfect Pop Song" awards, because today was one of these days where you reach the end of it and "I Wanna Be Sedated" just sums up how you feel.
Neat little video, too . . . The Ramones calmly sitting there while everything goes nuts around them. Would that I could've been the one sitting calmly while everything went haywire today. Maybe next time I'll be luckier.
Neat little video, too . . . The Ramones calmly sitting there while everything goes nuts around them. Would that I could've been the one sitting calmly while everything went haywire today. Maybe next time I'll be luckier.
Soap Opera
1. Finally I've caught up with My reading and, while everything's different of course, everything's the same, or at least similar. More on that below.
2. I've removed the dead blogs and the gone blogs by the link list . . . sadly, I see that Brazen Brunette either was hacked or deleted her blog and gave the account away -- a single post in a foreign language now sits where Brazen's riveting, wrenching entries used to reside. Last I had read she seemed to be doing better -- I sincerely hope that she still is doing well and that losing the blog was a natural step in her progress and not a sign of something having gone wrong.
3. Using a feed reader made catching up convenient and and at the same time slightly horrifying . . . all that, all at once, from so many different sources.
But in the end it all works out . . . the big soap opera that is the blogosphere rolls on. Things do change, as they must, but the bigger thing, the community that no one will admit to belonging to, remains. Pieces slide in, pieces drop off, or change their shape, their frequency of appearance, but the whole morphs in tiny increments, just like the "real thing."
And when I say "soap opera," don't get Me wrong -- there is not a hint of negativity or condescension in that phrase. It's a soap opera, and that's a truly wonderful thing, because unlike an actual soap opera it's not only an escape, but entertaining and informative as well. It is something we create, out of whole cloth, out of the fabric of our lives and experience, and maintain. We learn from it, grow with it, change it or kill it when it no longer works.
It is . . . alive, and we make it live. Sometimes it's healthy to stop and not take for granted how amazingly cool that is.
YouTube Tuesday: The Perfect Pop Song (Tearjerker Division)
Tonight's entry is the Perfect Pop Song, Tearjerker Division: "The Last Worthless Evening" by Don Henley.
I can't listen to this song all the way through without crying . . . and a talented youtuber set the song to a collection of clips from Gilmore Girls, and it's well, perfect.
I can't listen to this song all the way through without crying . . . and a talented youtuber set the song to a collection of clips from Gilmore Girls, and it's well, perfect.
Happy Anniversary
Today is a year since tasha returned. A year officially, but in My heart she's been there from the beginning.Milestones are deceiving things, sometimes, in that they can lead us to focus on the wrong thing, i. e., what's gone before as opposed to what's to come. The latter is always more important. I learn from the past (hopefully), but I'm not beholden to or trapped by it. Numbers and dates are important to recognize and remember but in the end the most important number is the next one, the most important day, today.
Happy anniversary, tasha. I love you, more than ever. And thank you for your love, service, and devotion, for the past year, and before. And for all the days to come.
YouTube Tuesday: The Perfect Pop Song (Power Pop Division)
After much thought and highly scientific analysis, I'm eager the winner for The Perfect Pop Song, Power Pop Division.
The winner is "Did It In A Minute" by Hall and Oates. I could have picked "Private Eyes" or "Kiss On My List" or any number of other H&O masterpieces, but "Did It In A Minute" for Me, is the best of the lot.
[Note: You'll notice that this video doesn't come from youtube. "YouTube Tuesday" I hereby declare "Web Video Tuesday." I'll still call it YouTube Tuesday because it has a better ring to it.
"Well I still can't say I know
When a love is real or touch and go
And if two can be one
Who is the one two becomes oh oh
Am I quick enough to see
When I'm ready and it's right for me
I say, I say, I say, I say that I want it
(I think so anyway)
Everybody always laughs at love
But what they want is to be proven wrong
Then you came along
Oh you did it
You did it, you did it, you did it
You did it in a minute
I know you did it
You did it, you did it, you did it
You did it in a minute"
The winner is "Did It In A Minute" by Hall and Oates. I could have picked "Private Eyes" or "Kiss On My List" or any number of other H&O masterpieces, but "Did It In A Minute" for Me, is the best of the lot.
[Note: You'll notice that this video doesn't come from youtube. "YouTube Tuesday" I hereby declare "Web Video Tuesday." I'll still call it YouTube Tuesday because it has a better ring to it.
"Well I still can't say I know
When a love is real or touch and go
And if two can be one
Who is the one two becomes oh oh
Am I quick enough to see
When I'm ready and it's right for me
I say, I say, I say, I say that I want it
(I think so anyway)
Everybody always laughs at love
But what they want is to be proven wrong
Then you came along
Oh you did it
You did it, you did it, you did it
You did it in a minute
I know you did it
You did it, you did it, you did it
You did it in a minute"
It's Not Like Signing Up For A Gym Membership
thisgirl recently wrote here about slave contracts and wondered what contracts for Dominants would be like.
The entire contract thing is tricky in one sense since these contracts, being legally unenforceable, lack the ultimate hammer (i. e., legal recourse) and thus ultimately lose much of their potential force. But they are important and I'm sure in most cases feel "enforceable" in emotional terms (and certainly can have emotional consequences). So the area is interesting and important in this realm.
thisgirl proposes a "Dom contract" that goes like this:
And that's My problem.
thisgirl points out that these contracts are "relatively one-sided." Exactly. They're supposed to be. The relationship is inherently unequal. Master/Mistress and slave are "equal" as human beings, they are equal under the Constitution and the law, but they are not, in the terms that these contracts seek to address, in any way equal. That such contracts have no legal enforceability under US law emphasizes the point that the contract describes (and seeks to maintain) a state of affairs that is not equal. The quid pro quo aspect of typical contracts does not apply.
So for the submissive there has to be some "risk" in signing the contract, some area or factor(s) that leave at least a hint of uncomfortableness. Without that element the contract feels like a cubic zirconium engagement ring: important perhaps as a symbol but of extremely limited value.
All the usual disclaimers apply: If you submit when you feel like it, if you are casual play partners, if your Dom/me gives off weird psychokiller vibes, etc., then signing a contract isn't on the menu. Presumably, if the parties are at the point of contract signing, the "worthiness" of the Dominant is a settled question.
So, while I can't speak for any other Dominant, I wouldn't sign the contract thisgirl proposes.
The entire contract thing is tricky in one sense since these contracts, being legally unenforceable, lack the ultimate hammer (i. e., legal recourse) and thus ultimately lose much of their potential force. But they are important and I'm sure in most cases feel "enforceable" in emotional terms (and certainly can have emotional consequences). So the area is interesting and important in this realm.
thisgirl proposes a "Dom contract" that goes like this:
I agree to be your dominant.
I agree to look after you and to not abuse the control you have given me and the trust you have put in me.
I want to help develop and nurture your submission and help you understand this side of yourself.
I want to control you without taking over your life or ruining the parts of you that make you the woman I love.
I will never make you feel worthless or put you down. Though i cant promise not to say ‘your bum looks big in that’ because I will always be honest with you.
I will always be imaginative and inventive and most of all devious.
I will torture your body and push it to your limits but not overstep your boundaries.
I will keep the play interesting and not let it get boring or stale.
I will *never* wear a leather waistcoat, a flogger on my belt or parade around topless in fetish clubs but do my best to make *us* look and feel good.
I will show off my property and be proud always that you belong to me.
I will use you for my pleasure but make sure you get pleasure back (unless you’ve been really bad!)
I will loving control your body, your orgasms and your mind.
I will love you when you are bad just as much as when you’re obedient.
In return i want :-
Your submission
Your obedience
Your love
I want to share my fantasies with you and most of all to have fun and be happy together.
she then asks: "So . . . would he sign it?"
My answer to that is "I don't know if He would sign it but what submissive wouldn't?And that's My problem.
thisgirl points out that these contracts are "relatively one-sided." Exactly. They're supposed to be. The relationship is inherently unequal. Master/Mistress and slave are "equal" as human beings, they are equal under the Constitution and the law, but they are not, in the terms that these contracts seek to address, in any way equal. That such contracts have no legal enforceability under US law emphasizes the point that the contract describes (and seeks to maintain) a state of affairs that is not equal. The quid pro quo aspect of typical contracts does not apply.
So for the submissive there has to be some "risk" in signing the contract, some area or factor(s) that leave at least a hint of uncomfortableness. Without that element the contract feels like a cubic zirconium engagement ring: important perhaps as a symbol but of extremely limited value.
All the usual disclaimers apply: If you submit when you feel like it, if you are casual play partners, if your Dom/me gives off weird psychokiller vibes, etc., then signing a contract isn't on the menu. Presumably, if the parties are at the point of contract signing, the "worthiness" of the Dominant is a settled question.
So, while I can't speak for any other Dominant, I wouldn't sign the contract thisgirl proposes.
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