Work in Progress
This blog got its start as a kind of political cry. I was really, really distressed by the fact that our country was building an imaginary case against a country to go bomb them back to the stone age. I was confused. I could not understand how the America I was raised to believe in, could use its military power to push someone's head under the water at the community pool.
In fact, honestly. I was shocked. I thought the entire military buildup on the Iraq border in 2001 and 2002 was just a headfake. Also, to be honest, I found a submissive - and I thought that the best way to chronicle my first real subbie psycho play was to try to trace the arc of mine and her journey through to the point where the whip takes bite and the wood touches flesh. I happened to take and drop a slave during that time, but I never count slaves.
So, ok. Politics and kinky sex. Kind of like... Republican Blog. No comment. Right? I joined a group of bloggers. A phD that wanted to do polyamory. Some guy who wrote speeches for all the big political heavyweights. A super smart chick who worked at the CDC. A couple of dudes that were into gaming. It was a great time.
At some point I broke away from the politics. This was also about the time that the anti-bloggers came around - like twitter, and FB and the designs that were all about shutting down honest, discursive dialogue and replacing it with a 140 character limit. I was able to see from where I stood that this would be a virus laden worm fest so I skipped the selfie generation and fell back on prose and poem and whatever I could find.
I really enjoy finding images, words, sayings - and not clicking on the first search result. The fake one.
It's kind of a sport. There might even be something of an obsession with bettie page on this blog. I take full responsibility for that.
And I am honestly not serious or paid; I think I have an old adsense account with this blog but the ads are completely annoying
and I was never really sure if I wanted them on my blog or not - I've moved them all over the place and if you click on them, fine.
If you ignore them, fine. I think one day the ads off this blog will do something like buy me a happy meal. If I'm lucky.
I promise that if that ever happens, I will go and get the happy meal and I might take them down.
The guy who came up with this platform (we moved to this platform from the older one .. blogspot..) is the same guy who took responsibility for that abomination known as twitter. Both twitter and these other so called "social media" platforms were really all about killing off
the blogsphere. They almost succeeded. I wanted to make sure this blog survived while I wasted time with them.
The first time I went into FB was a total joke. I went in there and found an old (and good) flame waiting for me and I think I went kind of insane.
I must have changed my background 50 times... I would frantically post about anything and everything, and couldn't find my voice there. Eventually it slowly dawned on me that FB would only get the leftover stuff. The stuff that you threw out for people to data mine , like electronic counter measure.
I laugh every time they show my own ads to me as if I'm going to buy my own stuff from myself. I truly hate Facebook, and any other platform founded to be something that hurts your girlfriend's feelings. I hurt her feelings far too easily on my own to need anyone else's help, and if you've ever read my blog the one thing I really don't want to do is get a beautiful girl pissed off at me. I'd much rather let her vent and talk and then we can both have lots and lots of great sex.
I'm listening, honey. Really I am. Continue.
So now I'm going to tell you where I'm going with this thing. First, I wrote a democratic socialist manifesto. I need to tighten that bitch up, it's too wordy and people's eyes glaze over. I'm going to adopt the style and form of Larry Harvey and get a decent, tight little number together ..like his ten principles... they're hot. I want my manifesto to be like that, something a good ol' boy can read and understand.
And I do consider getting Bernie Sanders (yes, this was written in 2016.. the year before the great Sanders Era of our history, the era that preceded the dawn of America as a spacefaring nation ..) ... in the presidency of the United States, as the Apotheosis of all of my political activism. This guy represents nearly everything I've ever fought for. So today, on this special day - I'm going to spend time getting laid (I might think of you, I might not, hey, it's physical) with my girlfriend. Think hang ten t shirts, a girl and a boy skateboarding down the street. We're totally friends with benefits and we love it. I'm going to spend my time working my butt off, because I can't go fingerbang my girl friend and do bong rips up on top of a mountain somewhere - if I can't afford to leave the office. I'd love to figure out how not to get beaten up by all the money I owe, but I think the only way out of that is not to go bang my girlfriend, and that's going to be a hard decision. I guess I'll see how much work I get done, but I'm an old guy now, so I'm going to take the getting laid option one way or another. Still, it would be great to survive through the month of February. I'll leave that to the mercy of La Cosa Nostra or whoever else lent me that cash. Think of it like a title pawn that doesn't own a repo man, just a guy with a baseball bat.
Hey, that's small business.
But one thing I am going to do is tell you where I'm going, before I get to work. And I'm going to tell you why. Because there is a living being that haunts me. Someone who keeps me moving forward. I promise you she doesn't do it on purpose. And I really hate how we both feel like we need to end that relationship, because there's really no way it can end. Sometimes your soul gets bound up inside someone and it can never leave. No stalking, just a kind of love that no one can really fuck with.
So, I take it very, very seriously - when she's around. For one thing - it proves she's still alive. We have that kind of relationship where I am left to wonder for years. And she and I both are the type of people that will push it to the limit and we might not be alive when you read this.
She doesn't give me marching orders. Instead, I kind of find a way to be broken, and to have myself put back together again. I can notice things.
For example. I'm kinda fat. So I'm going to fix that. And I'm kinda poor . So I can fix that too. These aren't little jobs, they're big ones, and they take time. You don't suddenly become thin and rich. If you win the lottery, put that ticket in a baggie and seal it up and stick it in a safe deposit box and call an attorney and don't tell a living soul until you're safe and on high ground. But if you meet a girl that really tears your heart out so badly it hurts like you can't even breathe - don't forget her. Let her life story weave its way into yours.
Let her faults become your faults. Let yours become hers. Let her guide you to civilization. Always remember, young man - that without women we would be standing in a radioactive wasteland with seriously heavy weaponry pointed at each other and hoping the heat tape doesn't disintegrate until we can get a target painter in place to blow each other away. Nothing would be left of this planet. And shit, would it ever be fun.
So here's what you get for your quarter. Whatever you're finding here, from here on out - will be the notes of a man on a journey to get in shape, and to get a little rich. I will also tighten up the manifesto in case someone wants to use it. I might throw a little of my artwork here... I love Burning Man, I'll try to post here what I'm doing out there. But alot of times I just want to make sure that this blog, this identity, is off on its own - and not bound to anyone.
Normally if you find out who I am, I'll get rid of you somehow. I don't like people tying this thing back to real life. Who wants their notes about great kinky sex read back to their own son or daughter? Could you imagine your parents having sex. Man. But I want you to know, I have finally accepted one person to know who is behind this blog. Hell. It's not like she can't figure it out by herself, anyway. And she makes good comments, but always in private - I really get the feeling she's working on something as well. Work in progress. You and I.
But part of this, she decides. I've grown very, very strong. I can wait years. Decades. So. If there is a genus of us - a specific epithet - destined to merge with machine and travel through the stars, let me be the one.
If it doesn't work, I have nothing to do with it. But if it does work, let's talk royalties.
In fact, honestly. I was shocked. I thought the entire military buildup on the Iraq border in 2001 and 2002 was just a headfake. Also, to be honest, I found a submissive - and I thought that the best way to chronicle my first real subbie psycho play was to try to trace the arc of mine and her journey through to the point where the whip takes bite and the wood touches flesh. I happened to take and drop a slave during that time, but I never count slaves.
So, ok. Politics and kinky sex. Kind of like... Republican Blog. No comment. Right? I joined a group of bloggers. A phD that wanted to do polyamory. Some guy who wrote speeches for all the big political heavyweights. A super smart chick who worked at the CDC. A couple of dudes that were into gaming. It was a great time.
At some point I broke away from the politics. This was also about the time that the anti-bloggers came around - like twitter, and FB and the designs that were all about shutting down honest, discursive dialogue and replacing it with a 140 character limit. I was able to see from where I stood that this would be a virus laden worm fest so I skipped the selfie generation and fell back on prose and poem and whatever I could find.
I really enjoy finding images, words, sayings - and not clicking on the first search result. The fake one.
It's kind of a sport. There might even be something of an obsession with bettie page on this blog. I take full responsibility for that.
And I am honestly not serious or paid; I think I have an old adsense account with this blog but the ads are completely annoying
and I was never really sure if I wanted them on my blog or not - I've moved them all over the place and if you click on them, fine.
If you ignore them, fine. I think one day the ads off this blog will do something like buy me a happy meal. If I'm lucky.
I promise that if that ever happens, I will go and get the happy meal and I might take them down.
The guy who came up with this platform (we moved to this platform from the older one .. blogspot..) is the same guy who took responsibility for that abomination known as twitter. Both twitter and these other so called "social media" platforms were really all about killing off
the blogsphere. They almost succeeded. I wanted to make sure this blog survived while I wasted time with them.
The first time I went into FB was a total joke. I went in there and found an old (and good) flame waiting for me and I think I went kind of insane.
I must have changed my background 50 times... I would frantically post about anything and everything, and couldn't find my voice there. Eventually it slowly dawned on me that FB would only get the leftover stuff. The stuff that you threw out for people to data mine , like electronic counter measure.
I laugh every time they show my own ads to me as if I'm going to buy my own stuff from myself. I truly hate Facebook, and any other platform founded to be something that hurts your girlfriend's feelings. I hurt her feelings far too easily on my own to need anyone else's help, and if you've ever read my blog the one thing I really don't want to do is get a beautiful girl pissed off at me. I'd much rather let her vent and talk and then we can both have lots and lots of great sex.
I'm listening, honey. Really I am. Continue.
So now I'm going to tell you where I'm going with this thing. First, I wrote a democratic socialist manifesto. I need to tighten that bitch up, it's too wordy and people's eyes glaze over. I'm going to adopt the style and form of Larry Harvey and get a decent, tight little number together ..like his ten principles... they're hot. I want my manifesto to be like that, something a good ol' boy can read and understand.
And I do consider getting Bernie Sanders (yes, this was written in 2016.. the year before the great Sanders Era of our history, the era that preceded the dawn of America as a spacefaring nation ..) ... in the presidency of the United States, as the Apotheosis of all of my political activism. This guy represents nearly everything I've ever fought for. So today, on this special day - I'm going to spend time getting laid (I might think of you, I might not, hey, it's physical) with my girlfriend. Think hang ten t shirts, a girl and a boy skateboarding down the street. We're totally friends with benefits and we love it. I'm going to spend my time working my butt off, because I can't go fingerbang my girl friend and do bong rips up on top of a mountain somewhere - if I can't afford to leave the office. I'd love to figure out how not to get beaten up by all the money I owe, but I think the only way out of that is not to go bang my girlfriend, and that's going to be a hard decision. I guess I'll see how much work I get done, but I'm an old guy now, so I'm going to take the getting laid option one way or another. Still, it would be great to survive through the month of February. I'll leave that to the mercy of La Cosa Nostra or whoever else lent me that cash. Think of it like a title pawn that doesn't own a repo man, just a guy with a baseball bat.
Hey, that's small business.
But one thing I am going to do is tell you where I'm going, before I get to work. And I'm going to tell you why. Because there is a living being that haunts me. Someone who keeps me moving forward. I promise you she doesn't do it on purpose. And I really hate how we both feel like we need to end that relationship, because there's really no way it can end. Sometimes your soul gets bound up inside someone and it can never leave. No stalking, just a kind of love that no one can really fuck with.
So, I take it very, very seriously - when she's around. For one thing - it proves she's still alive. We have that kind of relationship where I am left to wonder for years. And she and I both are the type of people that will push it to the limit and we might not be alive when you read this.
She doesn't give me marching orders. Instead, I kind of find a way to be broken, and to have myself put back together again. I can notice things.
For example. I'm kinda fat. So I'm going to fix that. And I'm kinda poor . So I can fix that too. These aren't little jobs, they're big ones, and they take time. You don't suddenly become thin and rich. If you win the lottery, put that ticket in a baggie and seal it up and stick it in a safe deposit box and call an attorney and don't tell a living soul until you're safe and on high ground. But if you meet a girl that really tears your heart out so badly it hurts like you can't even breathe - don't forget her. Let her life story weave its way into yours.
Let her faults become your faults. Let yours become hers. Let her guide you to civilization. Always remember, young man - that without women we would be standing in a radioactive wasteland with seriously heavy weaponry pointed at each other and hoping the heat tape doesn't disintegrate until we can get a target painter in place to blow each other away. Nothing would be left of this planet. And shit, would it ever be fun.
So here's what you get for your quarter. Whatever you're finding here, from here on out - will be the notes of a man on a journey to get in shape, and to get a little rich. I will also tighten up the manifesto in case someone wants to use it. I might throw a little of my artwork here... I love Burning Man, I'll try to post here what I'm doing out there. But alot of times I just want to make sure that this blog, this identity, is off on its own - and not bound to anyone.
Normally if you find out who I am, I'll get rid of you somehow. I don't like people tying this thing back to real life. Who wants their notes about great kinky sex read back to their own son or daughter? Could you imagine your parents having sex. Man. But I want you to know, I have finally accepted one person to know who is behind this blog. Hell. It's not like she can't figure it out by herself, anyway. And she makes good comments, but always in private - I really get the feeling she's working on something as well. Work in progress. You and I.
But part of this, she decides. I've grown very, very strong. I can wait years. Decades. So. If there is a genus of us - a specific epithet - destined to merge with machine and travel through the stars, let me be the one.
If it doesn't work, I have nothing to do with it. But if it does work, let's talk royalties.
Comments