FreakSaphhic's Xanga

Speaking with strange people gives you strange ideas.

Tue, 06 Oct 2009 15:55:39 GMT

Most of the historical punishments you could think of are today considered modern fetishes. Some of that can be contributed to sadism, but it seems like even more can be considered pure contrary open-mindedness. They can, therefore they do. Slavery, Crossdressing, Chastity, Bondage, domestic discipline, beating (& subcategories), humiliation, castration, bloodletting, crushing... Please, tell me if I'm scaring you. We are a very strange society, though we try to hide it.

We are a society of individuals rather than a society as a whole. Most of the things we want, our motivations, are out of self interest rather than for our family, our friends, our community, our nation. There's nothing wrong with that; if people can become happy as individuals then they should. I don't believe we should lose sight of the whole, but we shouldn't be sacrificing ourselves for it. We are not ants.

Why does this matter? No, this is not a post about fetish, the Marquis de Sade, or the "cult" of individuality -- neither the jeans or the ideology. Our society is built in a way that the weakest of us; economically, socially, physically and mentally, suffer. We've seen poverty and crime rise where lack of education, lack of opportunity and lack of ambition thrive. Sociology tells us that even on a global scale, our society isn't built to allow everyone to thrive, some will always suffer and die, some painfully. We are an Omelasian(1) society, that requires we mistreat the weak in order to maintain our standard of living.

As I was driving to class the other day I started considering these things. There are people that live their day to day lives as willing slaves, did you know? In the United States, today, willingly and in many cases happily (2). Now, legally binding slavery is impossible; they still have their rights, they simply choose not to use them. Legally binding slavery would be absolutely unethical and it would cause so many problems we'd most likely collapse from the loss of moral integrity-- because absolute power for no matter how short a time creates absolute cruelty and lack of common sense (3).

However... If people can sell embryo's, virginity, if we pay for adoption services and the medicine we need to survive, if people believe it's all right to pay for the exchange of services (commonly called jobs), and people agree to marry and beget children for the sake of money, what about indentured labor?

Some might say we already have that. Many careers, teachers, lawyers, doctors, sign contracts that obligate them to work for a term of service. What about taking it a step further?

Imagine a distant, futuristic world where the higher echelons of our society were to contractualize all their servants, taking responsibility for them, taking on a system of patronage for artists, writers, musicians to live in their homes. We could have skipped over the next Mozart because he never had an opportunity to learn.

In Japan, companies often take responsibility for their workers; they're likely to hire the sons of their male employees because it's considered beneficial to aid their families and it inspires mutual loyalty. We have colleges and governments that take on writers in residence for years at a time.

But these things are considered extreme privileges, modern vanity, reserved for the most vogue figures of the time. An unknown writer will never become a poet laureate, and they probably shouldn't be...however people taking an interest in youth outside of their own family, church groups and community is considered strange; you'd think they were warped, pedophiles even. And if you tried to employ a homeless person of the street? They'd think you were trying to perform some strange science experiment on them and bury them in your backyard. Because most people don't believe that there's such a thing as good for goodness sake.

It's not expected. So a proposal: consensual, legally binding service in exchange for monetary compensation. Some people are incapable of functioning, so if they have worthwhile traits that could be put to good use, the upper echelon's could purchase them -- with their express agreement to a strict contract, so that both parties could benefit. This could possibly reduce crime and poverty.

You probably think I just spouted a bunch of BS; we already have that, or that's an idealistic view of things, or that's nothing spectacular. What if I were to say consensual slavery? Indentured servant? Live in whore? Houseboy? Sounds sort of victorian doesn't it? But why do some of those terms sound less savory? Is it the sex, the implication of the young being "used"? Lack of choice?

And yet....We hear stories all the time about the young housewife wanting the younger poolboy...

9 recs to color your day

Fri, 14 Aug 2009 18:45:30 GMT

Well, it looks like someone noticed me flooding the question suggestions last night. >.<

Books

Anne Roquelaure's "Sleeping Beauty" book trilogy. This series serious squicked! my mom. It is erotica with a dark touch of chocolate flavoring. Written by Anne Rice under a pen name. It does have a very nice psychological feel to it in terms of a persons preferences, their preconceived ideas and what is 'erotic'. This series does have elements of domination, homosexuality and non-traditional relationships. But not for the squeamish. You may want a nightlite.

"Vamped" by David Sosnowski. I love vampires, I really do. Unfortunately I think Buffy and Twilight semipermanently jaded publishers from putting out. This is a story of world now dominated by vampires, humans are rare snacks that live in the gutters. The authors voice is snarky and bald and not at all gooey. Single Male vampire raising human daughter seeks mate who will not devour progeny. Not hearts, flowers, or pink piles of mush are included so Twilight lovers stay away.

"Rainbow Boys" By Alex Sanchez. I normally avoid young adult books like the plague...they're so....wholesome. This is refreshing and real and it makes you laugh because this could happen, these guys act like real people. Three boys try to come to terms with their own sexuality and what it means to them growing up. This isn't Queer as folk, there's no sex, this is about high school without censorship.

"Forever Knight" Okay this show is old, canadian and it has horrible effects. And by old I mean 1990. I can't decide if the acting is good or terrible. But I really, really like it. There are no happy endings here, though the characters keep trying. Okay so here's the run down. Vampires, Police drama, What may have been the original emo (pfft, vampire radio dj's...). It's online, look at the first episode and try not to flinch at the horrendous opening credits.

"Life on Mars" (UK) Yes, there's a US version. The US version sucks. If you've ever seen Doctor Who the actor who plays The Master is the main character here. I've become his fan for life I think. One man is in a coma or propelled back into time, he doesn't know which. The cops are dirty, the language is foul and there's a refreshing grit that makes you consider just what our high ethical code of the year 2009 has done to us. Youtube has clips, just look up Gene Hunt.

"Eureka" Scifi's returning series about a town secretly created by the government, made up entirely of genius's they're solving the problems of tomorrow. One dumb Sheriff is dumped on his ass into the middle of it with his teenage daughter. Said teenage daughter is now going to school with boys smart than he is, and she's 16. But he's just so damn good-natured about it. Large guns, explosions, sarcastic humor, smart people showing how stupid geniuses can be.

Movies

"Forbidden Kingdom" Jackie Chan, Jet Li, Michael Angarano. It received pitiful publicity when it first came out. I couldn't find it at all and had to wait for someone to youtube it. But it's funny, and beautiful and not at all serious. There's fighting scenes that look impressive enough to me (but I'm not a kung fu junkie). Quite a few Chinese mythology references in the film, and I <3 the Chan/Li interplay. You may get flashbacks of Dragonball Z from this but it's not animated and no one is green.

"Iron jawed Angels" 2004. Historical film about how women obtained suffrage rights. It's been a few years since I saw this but I remember it hurt to watch it. Specifically the scene where they tried to forcefeed the main character. But it's beautiful and they're beautiful and give me a moment to bask in my utter feminist-ness... But no man bashing here, don't worry.

"L: Change The World" If I recommend this I MUST recommend the Death Note movies as a trilogy. They're good, I much prefer them to the neverending IT that was on Cartoon Network before my cable took even that channel away from me. Light Yagami find himself a God of death (it's japanese mythology, gimme a break) and begins killing people he think deserve death. The Detective L, genius and weirdo extraordinaire has been assigned to find and apprehend "Kira" (light's alter ego) who has been killing people. If you could play god and correct all the little slights in the world, would you? Skip ahead 2 movies. L is marked for death, he's got just a few days to save the world or a virus could destroy all human life. Ken'ichi Matsuyama plays L and he is amazing. It's worth it to endure the subtitles for this. Movies to make you think, and Ryuk is freaking looking as hell with graphics to wow you.

I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too!

"Trollies come from acorns!"

Fri, 14 Aug 2009 02:10:51 GMT

A troll is a person (hemhem... or bot) who posts inflammatory, argumentative or offensive content without provocation for the specific purpose of pissing people off and getting a reaction. Idle Hands.

This of course does mean that every person who is *mean to you* is a troll. Nor do most trolls mean you any harm. Trolling is done for the sake of boredom more often than not, and if you ignore, block or refuse to be angered they leave soon enough. But be warned, starting a fight with a troll can lead to battles of epic proportions, and should your troll enemy be one of the particularly menacing variety you may find yourself outwitted, outworded and outwinded. Not to mention slightly singed. Do not EVER argue topics of politics, religion, sex, or videogame play with a troll.

The main difference between a troll and your average malcontent is that a troll is there for his/her/it's masters own amusement. In the case of bots, one lowly person with minimal computer abilities decided to unleash a mindless little brainchild in order to annoy the community en masse. A troll doesn't want to fight, or prove you wrong, or even make you look stupid, they don't have any particular affiliation to one belief or another, but may pretend to in order to create discontent. They just want to play more often than not. Beware of teeth, though.

If you do decide to indulge a troll, or react in any way, be aware that other trolls may begin to swarm. In the right environment Trolls thrive in groups. They are very social creatures and with the right incentive may be coaxed into normal dialogue. Chocolate is the preferred method of coaxing.

However, a troll once tamed is still not your pet. These creatures are very destructive, prone to fits on anger and depression (whichever receives the most reaction). Do not give a troll, even the most well behaved troll, your email or any way to contact you. Trolls will follow you home and once they're onto your scent they are notoriously hard to shake off.

Lets review. Trolls post for the distinct purpose of gaining reactions, not because they believe what they're saying but because they hope you will disagree. Name calling is an act permissible from trolls. People who disagree with you are not trolls by definition. Do not argue philosophy with a troll. Though trolls may appear nice, they do not make good housepets, and should be approached with caution. And lastly...

Trolls are people too. Don't take them too seriously. ;)

One day they might be you.

Is there a quote you live by or get inspiration from?

Thu, 13 Aug 2009 03:26:31 GMT

"No man is so good as to be free from all evil, nor so bad as to be worth nothing."

I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too!

Dear Mr. President...

Wed, 12 Aug 2009 22:48:13 GMT

(Okay...Not really. But we're going to stick with the format.)

Dear Mr. President,
     You are still my president. Despite the approval ratings, despite the debt, despite congress. The reasons I voted for you still hold true. I still think that people deserve affordable healthcare, and I still think that the free market has failed us there. I realize that it's not your job to get things done, the healthcare plan in congress isn't yours, though you probably have the quicknotes version handed off to you by a senior aid. It might help if you didn't stick your foot in your mouth during the speeches, though.
     I still think you're more openminded, more civil minded than John McCain or any of the others would have been. But I don't expect Gay marriage to be passed anytime soon. Passing benefit coverage for government employees was one more step towards equality though. And that's what we need right now. Just a little more fairness. That doesn't take too much to do, does it?
     I can't say I know much about the environment. Most people don't actually, and I know that if you and 20 experts tried to explain cap and trade to people they probably still wouldn't understand it. They might willfully decide not to. or have you already tried to? I couldn't say, I can't remember for all that CNN and MSNBC like to tag after you like puppies. I can get behind an environmental initiative, but not at the cost of our economy. Too many people have lost jobs as it is...
     I'm waiting, patiently.

I didn't vote in 2008 because I thought that the next day, the next month, the next year everything was going to magically "change". I remember when Obama spoke at Kerry's inauguration address, and I'd looked at my little brother and I didn't want to say it because I hated to be wrong, but I told him that guy would be president one day. Yeah, that sounds cheesy, doesn't it? Like saying "I always knew he'd go somewhere!" But there's only so many ways that kind of energy can go.

I didn't vote because it was popular, and I'm not a sheep. I believed than and I believe now that the power of inspiring people, making them believe is a powerful ability. People saw things in that election that weren't true. People thought for a while that the sun shone out of his ass. And on the night the results come out there were people dancing in the street saying that everything would be wonderful now. As though he was the magic bullet.

Well, I'm sorry if you were one of the people disappointed. But I'm not one of you. And I'm sorry if you blame all the bad things happening on Obama. But the fact is, you can stand there in the streets on Bel Air, chanting and holding signs. You can post to your facebook how Obama should be Impeached with a less than 50% approval rating. You can point fingers at whoever the hell you want. But it won't make anything better, it won't give you your change.

If you want change, if you want hope then how's about taking up a little bit of that personal responsibility I heard so much about during the election? Get down off your high horse and do something useful. Write to your congressman with an idea and not a list of complaints. Do a little research so that you know what you're talking about before you place it on cardboard for channel 12 to air Monday nights. We have Town Hall meetings going on across the nation, if only people would take advantage of them and not just go there to hurl your obscenities.

Anyone that knows me knows that I hate absolute statements. But here's one for you. If you're an American take a little interest in your nation, in the people beyond yourself and your family. I'm not talking about sacrifice, but Taking responsibility for your America. You can't lay these problems at the feet of Obama, they were here before he ever was. We cannot stop living to repay debts, and we can't bulldoze through the issues without any concern for the opposition.

Life is Change. And the word No isn't enough.

A Better Reason

Wed, 05 Aug 2009 00:02:20 GMT

"Compassion is sometimes the fatal capacity for feeling what it is like to live inside somebody else's skin. It is the knowledge that there can never really be any peace and joy for me until there is peace and joy finally for you too.” Frederick Buechner

Healthcare. Publically funded. Government run. Subsidized. Socialized. Universal. "Obamacare". Single Payer. Bleeding Hearts. Reform. Insurance. Medicare. Medicaid. Liberal Agenda.

I don't care what you call it.

But give me a better reason than this.

Crying in Traffic

Sun, 02 Aug 2009 23:38:59 GMT

I think crying in traffic is quite possibly one of the most cathartic things a person can do. You're in your little box and everyone else in in their little boxes so no one is getting confused, and no ridiculously well meaning people are coming by to tell you it's alright when you know very well it's not.

You're not alone and snogging pillow, and you're not stuck in an auditorium while the women seated two seats up whisper about you, thinking they're being discreet. And people can stare all they like, but the fact is they don't.

I've cried at stoplights quite a few times. When I'm reminded of all the things I'd rather forget, by people that have no idea at all. I've been told it's dangerous but I can promise you, I have steady hands. The worst that can happen is you die right? No, don't worry, I won't be taking you or anyone you know with my anytime soon.

Not the type of crying that you want to kill something, or the type that makes you want to stare up at the sky and scream at god. Those would be very dangerous in the middle of main street, Bel Air. Thin lines all around.

People don't usually stare when they're at stoplights. The reason for that is because in our cars, surrounded by our music, our lovely or our trashy upholstery, our cellphones we simply must keep attached to our jawlines at all times, we are alone. Or we want to be. That or we're so busy trying to forget we aren't alone, so consumed with filling some sucking silence that we really, really don't want to look over at Joe-blow the next lane over. Because he's doing the same thing. Not that we're in our own worlds. Of course not; we may occasionally check out Miss Downtown Corporate's low blouse, smile at the puppy dog making a mess on Mummy's backseat, or (secretly) check our teeth in the mirror for the benefit of the hottie pulling up.

It wasn't always that way. Before you had a car it was either your room, the bathroom or in front of every damn person in the room. There was a time when nothing was mine, not my house, not my room, not my space, not a moment of time. Because if you're forced to be around other people for any span of time, involuntarily, you're not allowed to be just a little bit broken. It's inconvenient.

When I'm crying in traffic no one is going to come over and ask if I'm okay.

I prefer it that way.

Prompt; Would you go to your high school reunion?

Answer; Not a chance in Hell.

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For Sweet Revolution's first season...

Tue, 28 Jul 2009 18:25:06 GMT

Forgive me, I've only just started experimenting with avatars. (-_-")

These Images were ALL public domain.

A musing on 'God'

Sun, 12 Jul 2009 16:58:33 GMT

“And thems the breaks for we designer fakes.
We need to concentrate on more then meets the eye.
And thems the breaks for we designer fakes.
But it's you I take 'cause your the truth not I.”

“Twenty Years” Placebo

Seems about time for one of these. I’ve been having a bit of an internal crisis lately, one that might have been a lot easier if my faith had taken a more mainstream path. But then just because something is easier it doesn’t mean it’s the best. It’s a little depressing though to know some doors are closed. Maybe the door was never there at all.

Invisible door, a door made out of air. Intangible.

I was told as a young child I was Methodist. Had no clue what it was beyond a simple word given to me by my grandmother. How do you define yourself with a word when you have no idea of it's meaning? I’ve found since then that more than anything it was a dry, dead thing that was only used to support my family’s prejudices. I can say with some measure of surety I will never consider myself a Christian again. For a little while I didn’t believe in anything, it’s ingrained in me that people have to be their own heroes instead of looking to other people. Or things. I looked up all sorts of religions, belief systems before I started college, but though they were fascinating I couldn’t find what I was looking for.

I can’t follow any religion halfway, can’t pick and choose my beliefs from it based on what suits me. It’s all or nothing because what’s the point in competing in the race if you skip half the track? You just end up feeling guilty and stupid.

I don’t believe in sin or evil. I think people are good but are absolute shit at showing it. The only thing we can really do is try, and I’m much more inclined to believe we do so under out own will rather than at the behest of a giant. Higher powers are far from apathetic but I don’t think they care so much about our every day attitudes so much as what we’re trying to achieve. And books are wonderful things to make us think, but I can’t take a book as an absolute truth and live my life by that word alone.

Morality is a little more fluid than that I think. We’ve got to grow it ourselves. Flower or Weed?

I see and hear people involved in church events and it fascinates me. I wonder if they know how lucky they are to have that support there, like a safety net. Whatever you might believe is supported by other people, you’re whole worldview is constantly reinforced. That must be reassuring.

Either way, one day of sun might’ve stopped me from doing something stupid (re: silly). Earned me a weeks grace period at least, to sort out my head. This is not a happy place I’m at now, but maybe if I find some focus it can get better. ‘That’s the gift and that’s the trick of it’.

I’m on a Placebo kick now, can you tell?

Not going to say 'Thank You'

Sun, 10 May 2009 13:04:07 GMT

I can’t grind this down to one event. Not anymore. Too much of it seems to mix and stick together, I can’t even be sure I have the ages right. When I was very young my parents were kicked out of their apartment and we went to live with my dad’s parents. We still live there today. She was loud and crude; and she laughed at me in ways that seemed both cruel and comical. And I’m the only one who gets to see this side of her, still. We fight and snarl and curse, circling, looking for weakness. She takes her petty jabs at me, and I don’t have the common sense to keep my mouth shut. All the while knowing, and so angry, that she has the last word. This woman can kick me out.

Six? It started out innocuous. She told me I wasn’t pretty, that I never would be, and if I wasn’t smart I wouldn’t go anywhere. That was a hurtful thing for a six year old. I remember crying, yelling at her and stomping away from the table. Always at the table she’d start. Just one comment on top of a hundred before. Before I’d go out the door she’d say something, about my hair or my clothes. Sometimes she’d say something when we were out, and I’d get this hunted, miserable feeling, without anywhere to hide. And I’d walk around all day, trying to hide, not to be noticed, because I’d already heard once what someone thought of me.

I remember smiling, but not smiling; smirking? Leering? My eyes would slit and my lips would widen and I’d just look at her, and later at anyone, and I’d tell her just exactly what I thought of her. That got me yelled at a few times. But I never, ever felt guilty. Children only have so many ways they can fight back. I was a vindictive little bitch.

Eight, nine maybe. She hit me, just once. Just that one time. I wanted to hit her back so, so badly. I’d done something, said something cruel again, and she’d had enough. But I couldn’t hit her, she was supporting us, she could kick me out (she threatened it enough), so I cursed at her, in a low, angry voice, my little hands fisted and I hated her at that moment. I walked away from her because it was all I could do. I got yelled at later.

Twelve, I think. We’d gone to my cousins wedding. I was quiet and fearful and I sat in a corner hiding behind my dad. “She” was across the room, talking to the throng, as always loved. None of them had to live with her. I remember a boy coming up to me, god, at least three years older. I was afraid of boys then, but he asked me to dance. I’d never danced before, didn’t know how. My hands were sweaty and I was nervous in my cheap cotton dress; lavender with flowers, picked out by my dad. I knew someone had asked him to ask me. He was so persistent to get me out on the dance floor. Probably my cousin; love on the brain, she hated to see anyone alone. It was fun. I never knew his name. It was a good feeling, for once for someone to pay attention to me. I was grateful to that boy, no matter what reason he did it. A few weeks later we got pictures in the mail, and I wanted to know who the boy was; there were pictures of everyone who’d been there, and I kept asking. For a while my grandmother ignored me, before finally she yelled, she told me it wasn’t about me, that it was my cousins wedding, that I should be quiet. As though I made a point to make things about me. That hurt more I think, to someone who went out of their way to never be noticed. I went quiet.

Seven; definitely. I remember I went into her jewelry box. I didn’t want anything expensive; it wasn’t about that, and I didn’t want anything that would hurt her too much to lose. I wanted to prove I could do it, that I could do something to get back at her without someone telling me no, without anyone telling me to sit quietly Dammit, and take what she gives you. I took one earring. It was probably once very pretty, but now it was broken. There wasn’t a matching one in sight. I took it. A week later I took a pin, and the week after that a broken necklace. Eventually she noticed and asked me if I was taking things from her. I was good at lying. But I wasn’t a thief; and I hate being dishonest. I started leaving things in her room; under the bed, below the dresser, as though she’d lost them instead. It didn’t make me feel much better to know even if I hated her, I wasn’t so bad a person that I could do it without feeling guilty.

When nanny hit 65 she was diagnosed with diabetes. Too many extra snacks at night she told us. By 75 she’d had most of both feel cut off. All her toes and about half of each foot. She walks with special shoes and a cane. She’s easily tired now, but still thoughtlessly cruel. She forgets things, and she’s nearly childlike in her selfish demanding. Kind’ve ironic she once accused me of the same. She can walk now, but not for long since she refuses to do so even for the shortest of steps. She goes out to socialize; and everyone still loves her, they all think she’s a dear sweet woman.

I am 20 years old I’m a little cynical and I’m not at all a nice person. But I am a good person; I’m honest, and I don’t hesitate to let people know what I think, but I don’t see the point in hurting other people needlessly. I resent my grandmother, I’m annoyed, exasperated, but I make sure and ask her each day if she’s had lunch, I drive her to her social do’s, and I make her coffee each morning. We still snipe, I refuse to eat her cooking and she still tells me I look like a refugee going out the door.

I think I’ve won though. Age has nearly defeated her. She still tells me I’m selfish when I try and make her get her own coffee, or when I refuse to help her try to impress people with her useless little domestic things. I recognize that I’ve purposefully hurt her at times, and I recognize that I’ve done wrong. I know I’m not perfect, but the thing is that she can’t say the same. She’s old and stuck in her ways; anyone who does anything different is wrong, and she still likes to strut around as though she’s mistress of her domain. She’s about a foot taller than me, and every day I get up to say hello to that old woman, not yet totally senile. I smile at her and get her coffee, I give her kisses when she asks for them.

I don’t know if I love this woman who’s been a large part of making me hate myself for most of my life. I pity her, because most of the problems she has now are of her own making, and even now she can’t recognize that. And I can’t say for sure if I’m grateful for her taking us in when we needed it. I don’t believe I owe her respect, not one single ounce; but I give it nonetheless, because I don’t see the point in upsetting this old woman, and I do care for her despite it all. Maybe because of it; If I wasn’t the cynical, insecure, dry bitch I am today, who would I be?

But I’m not going to say thank you.