Among the USA's Finest

"From 1996 to 2001, these individuals participated in a cell of approximately 20 individuals that were known as the 'Family.' They conducted a range of criminal actions through the western United States in the name of the Animal Liberation Front and the Environmental Liberation Front. Their criminal actions included vandalism, animal releases, arsons and attempted arsons across Oregon, Washington, California, Idaho, Wyoming, and Colorado. Specifically, this cell was responsible for at least 25 domestic terrorism criminal actions totaling over $48 million in damages, including the largest eco-related arson in history, which was a $26 million arson at the Vail Ski Resort in Vail, Colorado. Additionally, the cell committed the only Y2K action in the U.S. when several members sabotaged a high voltage tower outside Bend, Oregon...


"With increased law enforcement pressure associated with this investigation and grand jury evidence, the cell was dismantled in 2001 and the remaining members dispersed. However, until they are apprehended, their potential for additional domestic terrorism action and destruction remains. Any way you look at it, these individuals are considered as terrorists. Regardless of their political or social message, their actions were criminal and they violated federal laws."

-Michael B. Ward, Deputy Assistant Director, Counterterrorism Division, FBI

Now I'm certainly not the type of person to do anything like these people did, but, considering the helplessness of individuals before the power of huge corporations, made worse by the backing of our own government, they seem like heroes to me. They took great risks and broke laws in order to be heard; their acts of destruction are nothing compared to the torture of an unimaginably great number of animals every day, or the rapid razing of great tracts of ancient forest for momentary profit.

Am I the only one who's disturbed by the fact that the FBI cites losses of money as justification to hunt these people? So the US government is the guardian of the profits of private interests? We can never get lobbying out of Washington, can we? Voters don't seem to be their representatives' main concern, so businesses can depend on the government to protect them from us more than we can depend on the reverse.

I don't want to sound paranoid, but am I causing trouble for myself just for posting this? Well the FBI can read my emails if they like. They'll have to suffer through my recent tendency to complain to my friends and feel sorry for myself, which is perhaps punishment enough for invading my privacy!

Although we're ostensibly protected from abuses by law enforcement, they happen every day. No harassment please! I'm just some guy blogging at a computer, people!

Speaking of Lowbrow Art...

...which I actually did days ago, but I'm the sort of person to pick up the thread of a conversation an hour later. I've gotten used to giving a quick explanation, which I've done here. Kind of.

This fellow seems to have grown up with a fascination with Batgirl. I can identify. I must have drawn hundreds of pictures of the busty heroine in perilous situations, my efforts being redeemed in the eyes of elementary school teachers only by my drawing ability, which was seen as uncanny.

So I give you... Ray Caesar!

A Manifesto of Sorts

Dildos! Always dildos! Why?


Quite frankly, I have no desire to see pictures of real penises, so why do I want to look at a substitute? I have one, you see! And sample this tantalizing copy: "Stella shows us how hot Winx sex can get, using one of her many dildos to drill her wet clam on her bed, while she fantasizes about having a wild gangbang lesbian orgy with the rest of her sisters and the Trix! Now that’s something we’d all love to see!"

What!? "Drill her wet clam?" Seriously? Okay, I can feel the uncontrollable urge to pay for your site rising up from deep within me! I am a slave to my instinctive urge to fumble for a credit card!

That's the problem, you know. It's money. "Interest," as the founding fathers called it. The urge to survive and to thrive. Stinky ol' greed.

Porn is ridiculous fake sex because capitalism is about man's (and woman's too, especially the more feminism earns women access to the same level of degradation as men) relationship to things, not to other people. Substitutes are offered for even the most basic and freely-accessed life experiences, forcing pilgrimages to malls that raise profits for all, or at least for a very small minority. Porn is a product.

So here and now, for the sake of my soul, at least part of which resides in my nuts, I announce my rejection of the porn fakeness!

Dildos: Nope, sorry! I won't buy photos of manufactured objects. That's doubly fake.

Silicon Implants: Evil evil evil evil evil. Any man who finds himself looking upon absurdly buoyant spheres with longing could masturbate while browsing a geometry textbook. Desiring such distortion, such brutal mutilation of natural female beauty, costs a man his soul. Breasts hang, folks, and the only problem is that you expect something else!

Lesbians: This one I can respect just a bit, as an interesting outcome of the idealization of sex, but I would definitely never endorse it. Pictures of women staring at the camera and hanging their tongues out as if they were ever going to lick anything pretty much exemplify the silliness of porn "lesbians." All the woodenness of a Mapplethorpe bondage picture with none of the art! I guess if we have alcohol-free beer and caffeine-free coffee...

My sister is a lesbian, and if I ever see her in any situation anything like the ones I've seen in porn I think I'll be an unhappy person. It may do some other men, the ones lost in the fake, commercial space of porn, some good to see the real thing though!

Money Shots: Do I have to say anything about the name? There's nothing inherently erotic about watching a man ejaculate, and particularly not when he aims his stuff at parts of a woman's body. These shots grew out of the development of porn, for the benefit of audiences bored of tedious, softcore bump-and-grind, where sometimes a limp, uninspired penis accidentally flashes into view.

And how, exactly, is it exciting to make a mess of a woman? The guy stops having sex and masturbates on her. Is he so absorbed in his own masturbatory world that this is the only way he can finish? Is she expected to lie there until the sticky stuff hardens on her, or is she supposed to go shower? Maybe it's trick to get her to leave so he can turn on the TV and avoid after-sex cuddling. Any way you look at it, it's pretty anti-erotic!

The Language: My fellow men, do you really get excited when a woman who is obviously not is called a whore? I find pictures of a sweet, middle-aged housewife, and she's called a "whore who can't get enough" or something equally preposterous. And she probably has a dildo too. Does all the silly slang drive you wild? Are you so angry at women that you need to hear her described so crudely? Would "look at this pretty girl" not do it for you? I... I just don't know what to say. Your language shapes the contents of your heart.

What the...?!: Okay, I've mentioned the ever-irritating dildo surprise. Now how about "white girls fucked mercilessly by two huge black cocks." WHAT? Who thinks about things like that? Is it delightfully shocking for members of different groups to have sex? And "shemales!" Ack! It's fine for people born that way, but why would I seek out pictures? I hope those who find hermaphrodites exciting find and marry them, and they have nice lives together. But I just don't fantasize about women with dicks. And people smeared with poop. And on and on.

What it comes down to is that real sex is much better than all this. The more extreme your fantasies get, the deeper you're falling into the porno abyss, and the more you depend on them to get excited. This makes you a lousy lover. Good lovers are deeply engaged in the immediate experience of sex. Adding role playing and all is just an enhancement, and if it becomes a desperate need, you need to get yourself into the world around you a little more.

There. It's negative, but it's something like a manifesto. Or not.

Hm

It's the fall setting that makes this picture so appealing. As corny as it may sound to modern readers, there's a lot of poignancy to young beauty in an autumn setting. I can almost smell the decaying leaves, their odor borne on damp, chilly currents of air coming off the water.


It's just very pretty. I am a middle-aged man, after all! Who asked all these kids what they think anyhow? Oh, yes, it was their disposable, or rather their discretionary income that got them heard. Nuts.

Although My Very Soul Recoils in Abject Horror...

...and pus oozes from the part of my spirit closest to this experience, a friend of mine sent me this video, and how could I not post it?

I'll Call Myself Undecided

These nipples look a whole lot like factory-farmed sausages, cooked using the water-in-the-bottom-of-the-pan method recommended on the back of the box, and perhaps a bit poorly done. The word "ambivalent" describes my reaction very well.

It all comes down to the personality of the woman, doesn't it? That's a pretty esoteric idea for a man, but it's true. Many men, when they say that a woman is irresistible physically, are accounting for personality without realizing it. Personality is part of the perceived black magic of women. It's a real turn on, actually!


I really couldn't tell you unless I met her and talked to her. Does that seem radical? Considering that sexual and gender politics probably determine more outcomes in life than any other determinant, I'd say... YES!

The belly button ring though... mutilation of sexually attractive parts of the body seems a little too Puritan for me. Erich Neumann's spiritualizing of the body and all, you know? Every time I'm startled by such unattractive deformity I wonder whether highly-advanced societies are pathological. It really wouldn't be surprising.

Frankly, I would rather live the life of a man who idealized the empire of the USA after it had fallen, much as my burgeoning country idolized Rome at its imperial height, than to live the actual life of a citizen in 2009. But still, as "recession" increasingly seems like a euphemism for "depression," I appreciate that I'm living in a unique, privileged historical moment.

And as for the nipples... well, she has a lovely face. I'd have to get to know her.

Free Free!

Okay, now it's time for a little bit of radical politics. I'm not much for destruction of private property, but Jeff "Free" Luers, as a political act, set some SUVs on fire (with no one in them, mind you) about ten years ago, and he'll be getting out of jail soon. Here's the man himself, in the most-used internet image. I'm not even sure where I found it myself:


Now this blog will probably end up being full of disclaimers about what I'm not, because people generally can't or don't want to understand interest without affiliation. However, I must state that I'm not an anarchist. I may be indulging in a bit of sexual anarchism here, a touch of Foucauldian activism, in that, although I'm making the subject even more visible, I'm defining myself more by a journey through all interests and images that suit me at the moment of posting rather than choosing an identity that's easily reduced to consumer demographics. Interest without affiliation, folks! Get it?

While I'm not an anarchist, I do recognize that anarchism can produce results. Terrorism is a pejorative term, and really, destroying commercial goods for the sake of making a political point? You mean the Boston Tea Party? A "direct action protest" only because the British lost the war that followed.

And I identify with a destroyer of large cars not only because I'm disturbed by how my country abuses the natural environment, but because I've been treated very rudely by drivers of the vehicles. Call it karma if you wish, but it seems that the possession of such large vehicles with such powerful engines has a negative impact on many drivers. They are like kings and queens on huge, moving thrones, and yet they're just average people. Many do not cope well, and become impatient, arrogant, and aggressive.

SUVs and other large cars symbolize, to me, a corruption of humanity as well as the environment.

So I've sent a little donation via this site, and I'm getting a nice t-shirt that advertises it. Jeff Luers will be released in December, 2009, so, after reading a little about him on Wikipedia and the site run by his parents, you may feel moved to make a little donation yourself. Help the fellow adjust to the outside world again, and encourage him to get involved in some activism, won't you? It only takes a few minutes and a few dollars to make a difference!

Oops, I went a little hypertext crazy in that last paragraph.

Gee Whiz

Let's Call it Art, Shall We?

This looks remarkably like some LA art, does it not? You know, lowbrow, or pop surrealism, or whatever. If that's still what they're making out there. I haven't been to that coast in quite a while.

Fandom in an Early Phase of Construction

It's history, I tell you!

Ooh

Is this the face of an alien abductee? Sort of cute, I'd venture to say. Hm.

Low Quality, but Worth Watching Nonetheless, for Cutural Significance If Nothing Else

Yes, these postmodern treasures are precious relics in our post-post-structuralist world. Does the low quality itself not lend an iconic air? Once, ten or fifteen seconds ago, these were the pinnacle of cultural experience, when shown at early conventions.

Another Season, Another Reason, for Feelin' Yiffy

Okay...

This is one of those things that only my closest friends understand. I'm developing an interest in furry culture without being a furry. "Yeah, right," some ostensibly in-the-know person replies, apparently not recognizing that life does not consist merely of the duality, affiliation or rejection. Is that a matter of intelligence, an inability to search out an eternity of permutations in action? Possibly.


I've had an interest in marginal groups since I was a subatomic little zygotic speck, but such groups are in short supply lately; commercialization has swallowed up the great majority of them. In fact, I'm afraid that my recent desire to connect myself somehow to furry culture can serve as a prophecy of its rise into the mainstream. I have a habit of predicting trends. I'm attracted to whatever will be corrupted in five or ten years. I hope that my interest is not a curse on a currenly non-commodified desire.

Nevertheless, perhaps my instincts, inherited from a father who was head of publicity for Newsweek back when news magazines had not been bumped down to the human-interest level by internet news, are showing me the path to future success. Perhaps we can have liberalism without self-destruction.

I really don't know, but the scheming part of me is wondering whether I should rush to make furry friends. Why not take the chance? Whatever the outcome, the ride will be fabulous!


But don't forget folks, that's what you get folks, for feelin' yiffy.

Is There Such a Thing as Too May Posts in One Day?

It's the Joose, that's what it is. Ask your local over-priced convenience store to stock some! I'm really enjoying my second of three days off in a row!

An outie! Mmmmm.

The REAL Real Ghostbusters

Kýrie, Eléison

Again I Say, I'm Not a Furry, but...

...this fellow definitely shows what variety there is in sexuality! I think that acknowledging such things frees a person.

Yes, it's unusual, and not at all sexy to me, but that dosen't mean it's unsexy to everyone. That said, you may click on this picture to free your mind, baby! Like wow!

You Know What?

Women closer to my age look really good! You poor young-adult saps! You're stuck eating half-cooked Pillsbury rolls! This, now, is cooked to perfection. The little spots on her chest are like fishnet stockings: they show up contours for great erotic effect. Besides, they're cute:




Oh my.

While I'm on the Skinny Kick...

Yes indeed! She could stand to finish shaving, or is it just me?

Fascinating.

This is interesting, is it not? I know I'm not the only oral-minded man out there.

Foucalult, Rant, and Other Words in a Title that Turn a Reader Off

Okay, it seems to me that an intelligent blog writer with any sort of intention other than to indulge in the reflections that get lost in life's daily processes will be haunted by the specter of the "successful" blogger. I'm sure that Google submissions, using cannily-chosen permutations of search terms, will yield a depressing perspective on self-conscious blog posts about posting on blogs. These writers are the sycophants in the courts of communication technology.

Having explored many blogs, I've learned something important, something horrifying about humanity: most "exceptional" people say the same damn shit when given a free forum. "Free," I say, evoking the concept of freedom's first corruption in the USA: capitalism. This mess came over here with the fucking Puritans, perhaps seeking religious freedom as a pretext, justifying the little fish's desire to jump into an even smaller pond. Soon two-atom beings will seek one-atom ponds.

Free of charge. Equal to the freedom to choose one's leaders of course! Ha ha! Damn straight! I'll shoot your somewhat-imperfectly-washed asshole with a Remington I-Saw-It-In-A-Movie, you Osama-worshiper, if you suggest that opinions require reflection!

Uh oh! Too many quotation marks already, alienating to the reader who's eager to support the motetization of debilitating crap! A groveling spoiler! Elitism at its worst! And about those hyphens? Doomed to death row and an eternity of expensive appeals!

Foucault. Calling the subject into question. Lately passed into obscurity because of the fact that all philosophy justifies someone's job, Structure-of-Scientific-Revolutions style. But, you know, even though genomes drive some unfortunates to seek glorious reputations, we should really not judge the quality of ideas.

Mr Foucault, dead of AIDS before some lE3eEt readers were born into mommyless existences, had a good point. One should not listen to sixteen-year-olds in the democratic processes of the Internet. Those who troll YouTube in search of specimens even more wretched than they are should be thrown on the tracks before the trains that work 24 hours a day to carry coal from Wyoming to wherever we need electricity to do our blogging. Why do we put sentimental, kind-hearted terrorists in Guantanamo Bay when these perpetrators of the worst crimes of humanity are allowed to crush souls via their parents' old computers in their tract-home cloisters? In spite of Karl Marx's overwhelming failings, I can't help but want to search his writings for some explanations.

The danger of the rant, at least for me, is that a person will get locked into particulars. Have I mentioned what Michel Foucault said, and how it affects my own perspective? Not at all. It's not my fault, though, it's Andrea Dworkin's. Her neglect-stench has debilitated me, and stolen from me the capacity for reason. It's this same stinky stank that forced Eve to take the unidentified fruit. Let's start a group to counter its ill effects! If nothing else, it's this that forced an unwilling right-wing backlash.

Do not get trapped in the rant!

Michel Foucault asserted that nature and common sense are merely cultural constructs. There is a division between sex and gender, and sex crosses much more into the realm of personality than those with a vested interest in their own emotional pressures, universalizing them as the political interests of a sex, would allow us to admit. Lobbying is very powerful.

Yet, a great deal of what we identify in ourselves...

Wait a minute! This post is less concise than the blogs on blogging will allow! If I hope to make a living I had better invest great amounts of money in books telling me how the innovators of 10,000 years ago did it! Sell plant-eating to dinosaurs! I had better lick yellow shit off the shoes of those who gain momentary attention!

Whew, that was close! I almost felt like a living being for a second! I must go buy McDonald's in order to redeem myself. Or maybe I'll be rebellious and buy Wendy's. It's waaaaay better than fast food, after all!

Irresistible

That's what this video is. That's all.

Condron.us

Condron.us got me a hit form Tunisia. The creator himself admitted in January that his blog-submitting feature does nothing, so I hope that mentioning his site does something now. I'm not going to spend time finding out, because I'm busy blogging and living life.

Is it really that important anyhow, in comparison to the momentary experiences of the body? Probably not, except insofar as this post and its links help people live life directly, with only as much cultural mediation as is necessary to maximize the fullness of experience's lessons.

Here's a cute picture to make up for the rest of this post:

Just What is It That Makes Porn So Stupid?

Okay, I'll confess that I grew up on porn, specifically of the softcore variety. I fiddled with knobs in order to get the Playboy channel, and sat patiently through uninspired, chopped-up hardcore movies, waiting for the one scene that would stir up the feelings that a precocious child is doomed to struggle to understand, at least in a prudish society. The few boring shots that could be used were always looped three times, so I knew I was doomed to talk back to the screen until I was handed a shred of passion to work with. You may have guessed that I developed a very critical perspective on porn.

I had access to the excellent UVA library a few years ago (a long story involving an ex wife; forget it), and me being me, I read anything I could about sexuality. I got very used to hearing about Foucault in the first few pages. It was particularly interesting to read that, because pornography is a business, it tries to appeal to as many customers as possible, so it tends to include as much as possible. Apparently, I was not the only one who felt that the pornographic experience is primarily one of patient watching and boredom, hoping that my number will be drawn in the demographic lottery once more. But that's not my complaint.

When I feel that my life desperately needs an infusion of humanity, I sometimes do a Google image search for some naughty topic or other. I like to create the illusion that some dark and forbidden corner of the human psyche has not yet been commercialized. I mean, consider: the past demand for "news" on Michael Jackson's case even intensified the commercialization of illegal desires. Television was trying to compete with the relative freedom of the internet. Try as you may, those frightening freaks are still exchanging pictures somewhere, thereby justifying a lot of superfluous and expensive FBI jobs. Pandering to the worry inherent in modern life also serves to increase government power. Sometimes, the evening news suggests "your children are at risk" in every other story, gaining the government's imprimatur. And family values seemed so good. C'mon, I like social stability as much as anyone who has to deal with daily experience.

Invariably, I find that whatever I've been looking for has been mixed up with pseudo-lesbians, dildos, and other nonsense that I see no need for at all. What a great, steaming load of idiotic, commercialized crap. The subject has been made very visible, to be Foucauldian about it. It sucks, to be very Beavis and Butthead about it.

Men whose desires have been invested in breast implants have sold their deepest parts for a few quick thrills.

My life has involved a quest from sex as ideal to sex as a very intense reality. Frankly, it's better to experience the burst of passion first-hand than to try to impose ideals on reality. The second option is just like using a woman as a souped-up right hand. I'm well past the epiphany stage, and so perversity is a useful tool.

My point is that many men never get to that stage. They'd rather accept the capitalist product, a safe and emasculating replacement. President TR was the poster child for such wretchedness. Capitalism, after all, substitutes the relationship of people to things for the relationship of people to people. Men's desires have been sold to the plastic surgeons who mutilate women's bodies to create the illusion that breasts don't hang. They do hang, and it's impossibly sexy. Nothing could be hotter than a non-objectified woman, than her personality over her body. As Thomas Kuhn would possibly have us understand, though, a lot of people's careers depend on our never realizing that.

Viva la Revolucion!

You Mean She's Doesn't Really Have Macigal Super Powers!? Aw!

A screen test and an interview, and Pippi/Inger doesn't lift an adult or a horse over her head. Not even once.

@&#%!! Cat

I try to keep all I do online pretty positive, but I'm in such a rotten mood I can barely catch my breath.

I don't usually lose my temper, and when I do it's a very controlled release, but I have to try hard to keep it back now, because a little cutesy-pie fuzzykins is filling me with feelings I've never really wanted to have.

I won't go into details, but I've found myself in a living arrangement in which I have to share a bedroom with a cat. This is for her own protection because there's a half-pit(bull, I refuse to talk like a pet person) in the house, which can become a murderous cutesy-pie at the sight of smaller, more helpless, weak, and vulnerable cutesy-pies. Delightful. So the poor cat is in prison for a good part of the day, and I share her cell at night. If the cat were mine, I would give her away so she could enjoy a little more freedom.

Yes I'm a compassionate person, so I try to ease the pains of the poor beast's life sentence, but somehow, along the way, she started looking at me as Mommy Cat. You know, imprinting, like the non-anthropomorphic, newly-hatched chicks that follow the anthropomorphic animal in countless cartoons? She seems to look at me as her benefactor, her mommy.

I don't want to be #$@&%!! mommy to a %*#@$?! cutesy-pie fuzzykins! #%?@!$!!!! $#@%&*!!!!!

I feel for this beast but I don't want to play mommy. It seems sick to me that we breed lions and tigers to be small and dependent on us, acting like kittens all their lives. It's disgusting!

I may be 41, but I still like sex. Not compulsively. I'd like to believe that it's still a part of my life. I'm a man, and I value certain things over certain other things.

&^%$#$@!!!!! pets and children are the opposite of sex! I don't want to cuddle anything with more than two tits!!!

%&*@!#^!!!

I'd rather save my energy for a future girlfriend and possible prospective wife. At least humans can give back a little.

I want to be kind to the @$%^&! animal but then I want to destroy! It drives me insane when she follows me around and stares at me. I'm always repressing my irritation, and repression is very much against my nature. She rewarded my efforts earlier by having a hairball before sunrise when I needed to sleep off yesterday's ten hours of work. @#$%^&*!

This is going to kill me.

Ahem. Okay, that's the first time I ever lost my temper online. Pardon me. I'll go get a diet energy drink, wander the internet for funny cartoon porn, and maybe settle down a bit.

Oh My Goodness!

You don't have to remember New Zoo Revue to find this outtake a little surprising. When I think about it though...

Well I hope they found true love at last!

Hermione

As Emma Watson, this picture is not very interesting to me, but as Hermione Granger of the Harry Potter books...


Oh Hermione! You may be from an accountant branch of the Alice family, but you're very cute indeed! My my my!

The image haunted me on the way to work this morning, so I resolved to post it.

It's a Great Day for a Mad Tea Party

For those who didn't already know...

"`I've seen hatters before,' she said to herself; `the March Hare will be much the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May it won't be raving mad--at least not so mad as it was in March.'"

"The Hatter was the first to break the silence. `What day of the month is it?' he said, turning to Alice: he had taken his watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear. Alice considered a little, and then said `The fourth.'"

Today is Mad Tea Party Day! An auspicious day indeed to start this blog! How Lovely!