I wrote down the title of this book when I was reading a book called Great Books for High School Kids. Yikes. I can’t quite imagine teaching this to high school kids, but the teacher who wrote about it taught it in an elective women’s lit class. She always had more students than desks and her students ranged from Ivy League bound to those struggling to finish high school. Clearly she’s a brilliant teacher, and part of being a brilliant teacher is choosing materials that students will embrace and dig into. So here’s the story of Bone. In chapter one we learn about her birth as a “bastard child” and by the end of the book she’s maybe in her early teens. Her mom was 14 or 15 when she was born and a whopping 21 when she marries for the third time. Bone’s younger sister has a different father–he’s somewhere in between Bone’s father and the man who enters their lives when Bone is 7 or so. There’s some humor in the story–Bone’s uncles and aunts are an eccentric bunch, but mostly this is just a heartbreaking story that’s very hard to stomach. In a nutshell, it’s a story of need, of sex, of drinking, of incest, of masturbation, of fear, of betrayal. Some really tough and uncomfortable issues to bring up in a class discussion. Then again, there’s a lot to learn here. I admire the teacher who chose to start her year with this book. But I’d have to follow it with something lighter, a lot less depressing. Fiction.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Monk yo mama
I was walking toward my local metro (subway) and saw a Priest enter the metro, who was mumbling and nodding to himself as he flowed down the escalator. I decided to follow him and see where the lord and a priest would go on a Sunday night. So I tapped him on his shoulder and asked where he has been on a rainy Sunday night, he started to giggle and whisper in some language that is a mixture of Greek and peanutbutter-stuck-on-teethisholaninin. I started to tell him in pig Latin my troubles and dreams….. and what I did Saturday night…. he smiled, began to make a disappointing warning followed by a giggle, then he started to make colorful mimming how, I think, to something better for next Saturday night. My stop came, I waved goodbye, handed him a 40 and wondered where he was going….. maybe to Obama’s house, or maybe he was just going home to cry….. or maybe,….. just maybe, he was going to work to make biscuits for Popeye’s chicken…….. they are heavenly
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Try me, I just might!
No matter how bad life gets I can always see the humor in it. Actually, I suspect that the bad stuff evokes much more humor than good stuff does. That’s why my Twitter Tweets (http://twitter.com/MariettaMeg) are so much better than are Paris Hilton’s (http://twitter.com/parishilton).
There’s not much funny stuff happening on a gondola in Venice, but an Alzheimer’s ridden old man in Tampa can be pretty damned amusing. My father actually scolds me for being redundant. He’s pushing 80 so there isn’t much that I can do. I wanted to borrow some money from him but what kind of creep would borrow money from a man who would forget the transaction within 10 minutes? Damn these scruples!
I do need cash badly…that’s a fact. I need to get to my daughter ASAP and for some reason, she lives in LA. I’ve tried just about everything that I could think of but nothing seems to be working. So, just in case anyone out there is interested, here is a list of things that I would to do get to LA:
1. Have a Ménage à trois with Larry King and Bill O’Reilly.
2. Walk up to Perez Hilton and smack him in his nasty little puss.
3. Wear a burqa with a sign around my neck that says, “I’m Naked Under This Thing!” and walk through Baghdad.
4. Tickle random men walking down the street.
5. Drag Mark Sanford out of the South Carolina capital building all by myself.
6. Grab the pen from Bob Dole’s right hand and run away laughing.
7. Offer relief to all men suffering from one of those Viagra induced 4 hour erections.
8. Taunt Angelina Jolie for an indefinite period of time.
9. Stand in the middle of Boston and make Ted Kennedy jokes.
10. Salt my ass and moon a bunch of deer.
Of course, I have my standards so here are things that I wouldn’t do:
1. Get a nipple piercing.
2. Watch an NFL game as long as Mike Vick is in the league.
3. Sleep with Michael Moore.
4. Agree with Nancy Pelosi.
5. Marry another man who leaves skidmarks in his jockeys.
6. Drink decaffeinated coffee, non-alcoholic beer or Diet Pepsi.
7. Sit through any movie that has “Part Three” in the name.
8. Bring a date to a La Leche League meeting.
9. Hike near the border of any country that’s name ends with STAN.
10. Pay more than twenty bucks for a purse.
OK then, if any of that helps you in your decision to help me, giddy up. I need to leave soon so don’t dawdle.
<3
We laid in bed at first
Holding each others naked bodies
Keeping our hands clear of the areas that turned us on the most
We both wanted this to last
Soft gentle kisses at first
My hand made the first move
My fingers caressing her breast
Making her nipple hard
I couldn’t take it any longer
My tongue was soon circling her nipple
Faster and sloppier with every moan she made
My hand continued down her body
While the other one was still gripping her breast
Still making her moan with each flick of my tongue against her nipple
As soon as I felt her, I let out a sigh
The amount of wetness she possessed always amazed me
I was careful
Making sure not to go in, not yet
I wanted her to beg
I felt her hand grab onto my hair
As if she was pleading for me to go in
I waited, until she pulled harder
I went in fast and with ease
Wetness saturated my fingers
I could feel it stream down my hand
My tongue slowly made its way down to her clit
She pulled my hair harder
My fingers still going in and out
As my tongue and finger played with her swollen clit
I could hear her moans get louder
Her hips began to thrust with anticipation
Finally, she let out a loud pleasuring moan
As we laid there naked, sweaty, and out of breath
I love you’s were whispered
And endless kisses were exchanged.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Decisive Action...Part II
It wasn’t until the one eyed poet had escorted Orianna on board his starship that the lovely, well endowed and curvaceous daughter of the goddess of love allowed herself to breathe freely. Ever mindful that what she was experiencing could only be a cruel dream created by her tormentors from the Gamma Quadrant to get her hopes up once again. Only to then be forced to watch her dreams of freedom dashed against the ragged rocks of reality in a concerted and persistent effort to break Orianna’s spirited nature.
Once onboard the Dark Lord’s Phallus Orianna suddenly felt the darkness of the burden of sexual servitude in which she’d been cloaked for seemingly an eternity. Dispel as it lifted from off her soul leaving the lovely daughter of the goddess of love to bask in the sunshine of freedom for the very first time since the beginning of her captivity.
As the Klingon Bird of Prey scout ship silently withdrew from the feminine orifice of the Deep Space stations docking port. Spun around effortlessly and flew away once again undetected by either the stations sensors or those manning the Opts Center. Only to disappear moments later into the worm hole on the final leg of the only remaining Dark Lords journey. To free the lovely and curvaceous daughters of the goddess of love from the bondage of sexual servitude that had already lasted nearly a full solar.
“See to Orianna’s every need’, the Dark Lord commanded one of the female ensigns who’d been taken on board the Phallus for this very mission. Then added, “Make absolutely certain that she is comfortable in the cabin prepared for her and her sisters.”
“Aye aye Capt’n.” the red haired ensign replied enthusiastically then aimed a warm and friendly smile at the curvaceous daughter of the goddess of love as she said, “This way ma’am.” even as she began to steer Orianna effortlessly away from the one eyed poet down the corridor towards the nearby turbolift.
For a moment DaPoet watched their backs until the red haired ensign along with the curvaceous daughter of the goddess of love disappeared into the turbolift. Then turned and headed towards the bridge where the one eyed poet would remain until the end of his duty shift. Then return to his personal cabin for a well deserved rest before the projected arrival of The Dark Lord’s Phallus at their final destination in the Gamma Quadrant. Where he hoped that he wouldn’t be forced to make an example out of those who’d sought to take full advantage of those who at the moment appeared weaker then themselves.
Twelve hours later the one eyed poet had just stepped out of his personal sonic shower and was in the act of wrapping a towel about his waist. When DaPoet heard the chime that announced the presence of a visitor standing in the corridor just outside the door of his cabin.
“Come in.” the one eyed poet called out absentmindedly just as he’d finished tying the towel about the lower half of his well developed physique.
“HUH!” the only remaining Dark Lord heard the lovely and curvaceous daughter of the goddess of love gasp in surprise as she walked into his cabin. Orianna’ right hand flying upwards to cover the embarrassment of the delightful smile dancing upon her lips as her eyes drank in the well developed curves of DaPoet’s chest.
“I’m sorry that I disturbed you.” Orianna stated quietly then added, “I’ll come back later.” as she started to back out into the empty corridor.
“Oh no that’s quite all right.” Dapoet stated in a reassuring tone of voice then added, “You may stay if you wish.”
“Okay.’ the lovely and curvaceous daughter of the goddess of love replied then stated a moment later after she’d regained a measure of her dignity and composure. “I only came by to thank you on behalf of my sisters and myself in the only way that I know how.” after which Orianna untied the golden sash about her waist and shrugged off the folds of her dress from the delicate curves of her shoulders. Which fell onto the floor about her ankles in a puddle of white fabric so that Orianna stood before the one eyed poet in all the glory of her womanly nakedness.
“Oh no that won’t be necessary since I didn’t bring you on board to become my concubine but to set you free from sexual bondage in which I found you.”
“Oh but it is necessary my dear poet if I am to cleanse myself of the very last vestiges of my sexual bondage.” Orianna stated matter of factly as she carefully raised first one foot and then the other one. As she intentionally stepped out of the puddle of her dress and into the arms of the only remaining Dark Lord. Where she pressed the swollen tips of her nipples against the skin of the one eyed poets chest even as she stood up onto the tips of her toes and pressed the curves of her mouth to the Dark Lord’s eager lips. In a deep and passionate kiss that seemed to last for an eternity even as it fanned into flames the sexual passions smoldering within the depths of Orianna’s very soul.
“Oh…my…god…” the lovely daughter of the goddess of love breathed into DaPoet’s ear as the fingers of his right hand gently curled around one of the ripe orbs of her breasts. Orianna’s breath then catching within her throat as the Dark Lord pushed her down on top of his bed where they fell in a tangle of arms and legs.
So that within just a few moments the walls of the one eyed poet’s cabin echoed with the sounds of not just their ragged breathing which now came in loud gasps. But the sighs, moans and cries of the lovely and curvaceous daughter of the of the goddess of love. As first the Dark Lords tongue and then the fullness of his rock hard and throbbing cock fully aroused Orianna. By making the daughter of the goddess of love wetter than she’d ever been before or since and intentionally drove Orianna over the cliff of the most intense orgasmic climax she had ever experienced.
Until at last Orianna lay helplessly within the arms of the only remaining Dark Lord. Savoring to the fullest extent possible the diminishing echos of her intense orgasm as they ever so slowly faded away into memory. As the lovely and curvaceous daughter of the goddess of love fought to catch her breath until at last she fell asleep safe and secure within the comforting arms of the one eyed poet.
For the rest of the journey Orianna spent her time divided between standing at the one eyed poets side and lying within DaPoet’s arms beneath the sheets of his bed. Where they wiled away the tedious hours of the voyage through the Gamma Quadrant riding each other into a sexual frenzy as they made love again and again. Until at last the Dark Lords Phallus entered into a stationary orbit of the planet deep inside the Gamma Quadrant. Whose inhabitants had held Orianna and her sisters within the degradation of sexual bondage without the slightest hope of release for nearly a full solar year.
Fortunately the reputation of the Dark Lord and the ability of his starships ability to lay waste as well as completely destroy the planet floating below. Had preceded the coming of the Dark Lord’s Phallus so that the planetary leaders were more then willing to surrender their unlawfully held captives as well as pay a modest reparation. In order to deflect the well deserved wrath of the only remaining Dark Lord and his crew of battle hardened souls.
So that within moments of materializing over the rouge planet the Klingon Bird of Prey broke orbit and headed back towards the Delta Quadrant. Where the crew of the Dark Lord’s Phallus looked forward to completing their mission by delivering each and everyone of the lovely, well endowed and curvaceous daughters of the goddess of love to their home worlds. Except for Orianna who of her own free will decided to remain aboard the scout ship as the constant companion of the only remaining Dark Lord. Sharing both the adventures as well as the curves of her body with the one eyed poet who commands the starship aptly named, “The Dark Lord’s Phallus.”
Nobody, Nobody But You?
If the human reality is a social reality, society is human only as a set of Desires mutually desiring one another as Desires.
Alexandre Kojeve,
Lectures on the Phenomenology of Spirit
In the chorus of the Wonder Girls’ 2008 hit single, “Nobody”, the South Korean girl group sings, “I want nobody, nobody but you.” The pop song is simply a rehashing of the typical narrative of a girl who wants nobody else for herself but a particular person.
Apart from the poppy dance tune and its being Korean (since the younger generations here practically feed on Korean soap operas), it is perhaps this rearticulation of the fantasy of “true love” – the romantic prospect of finding your one true love – that promised the song’s popularity here in the Philippines. What it represents for the collective imagination of the people is an escape from the hardships and sufferings of social reality.
Alongside the song’s popularity is a pun on its lyrics that has been circulating for some time already. In this version of the song, the chorus is changed from “I want nobody, nobody but you” to “I want your body, your body not you,” the point being it’s not really love – chaste, romantic, and spiritual – but raw, dirty, physical sex that drives such romantic longings. This opposition between the superficial condition of being in love and purely instinctual bodily needs can be summed up in the crude line of a friend: “it’s just your loins.”
Desire, however, is not simply the effect of our natural bodily functions. In Lacanian psychoanalytic discourse, all of us become estranged from the materiality of our biological needs the moment we enter into the symbolic order of language, law and social conventions. We are forced to recognize the desires of those around us and to express our own wishes only through language. It is our subjection to this order that we learn to keep our place in relation to others. We must no longer pee just anywhere. We are already compelled to urinate in the comfort room.
Material sexuality therefore has little to do with the formation of our loins’ cravings. Our desires, likewise, are never naturally our own. In the song, it is not really just the “I” or “my loins” who wants “you” or, in the vulgarized version, “your body.” These wants are constructed through fantasies that are structured by culture and ideology. These desires are always mediated by the symbolic order and cannot function without relying on some fantastic scenario.
The cynical charge that the romantic discourse of yearning for “true love” is simply a screen that conceals an underlying desire for “natural” instinctual sexual enjoyment is itself constitutive of a fantasy that is caught up in the commodification of sexuality in the era of late capitalism.
As Slavoj Žižek writes, “It is only through fantasy that the subject is constituted as desiring: through fantasy, we learn how to desire.” ■
Friday, September 4, 2009
Church urges couples to pray before sex
Church urges couples to pray before sex.
Newly-wed Roman Catholic couples are being encouraged to say a special prayer together before having sex.
The specially-composed Prayer Before Making Love is aimed at ‘purifying their intentions’ so the act is not about selfishness or hedonism.
It appears in the 64-page Prayer Book for Spouses which has been published by the London-based Catholic Truth Society, reports the Daily Mail.
The prayer implores God ‘to place within us love that truly gives, tenderness that truly unites, self-offering that tells the truth and does not deceive, forgiveness that truly receives, loving physical union that welcomes’.
It adds: “Open our hearts to you, to each other and to the goodness of your will.”
The group has close links to the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of England and Wales.
The Rt Rev Paul Hendricks, who is the Auxiliary Bishop of Southwark and sits on the charity’s board, said he thought the prayer’s inclusion was ‘brave but good’.
“I suppose it is a bit idealistic but it is recognising that God is at the heart of the marriage relationship between husband and wife,” he said.
“It is important for the Church to affirm the value of marriage and family life and I suppose this is a particular way of doing that.”
The book contains prayers for every stage of marriage and family life, including engagement, planning for parenthood, pregnancy and caring for children and elderly parents.
bron: www.ananova.com