Dirty Blues Sunday #1

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”
- Friedrich Nietzsche

I had no idea this genre of the Blues existed. I have always loved the Blues. I saw BB King in person from a box near the stage in Madison Square Garden. 

Now, that I know about Dirty Blues, I am going to share some of it with you.

Thomas A. Dorsey

Dirty Blues is about taboo subjects and was played only on jukeboxes. Too dirty for the airwaves. Sex and marijuana?

The Sun is finally shining. I am feeling good. I have to do something until the Bodega opens and I can get some coffee. No one had time to stop at the Reading Terminal Market.

This is Rosetta Howard from Chicago. Singing with Harlem Hamfats. Her songs are still on sale here. In the 1950s she sang with Thomas A. Dorsey at the Pilgrim Baptist Church in Chicago. Both Rosetta Howard and Harlem Hamfats transition between Swing and Blues. Jukebox music. Dancing Music.

78: Decca Sepia Series No.15. Rosetta Howard vocal, accomp. by the Harlem Hamfats

Despite their name, the "Harlem" Hamfats were a Chicago band in the 1930's whose members came from various places; for example, the McCoy brothers hailed from Mississippi, Herb Morand, John Lindsay and Odell Rand were from New Orleans and Horace Malcolm and Freddy Flynn came from Chicago. This is The Weed Smoker's Dream.

Melania is a Doll

I mostly ignored former First Lady Melania Trump. I see no reason to be interested in her much less criticize her. I have seen her nude pictures and I do not mind. There are a few of my nude pictures somewhere in netland. I think maybe Melania has a hard row to hoe. Yes, that is a pun and I committed it. 

I am researching White House holiday decorations over the years. The photograph is her twitter-posted Xmas card selfie. My still small voice said "She is a Japanese Comfort Doll."

I used my magic google finger and searched Japanese comfort doll. Whoa Josephine! I do not know what to think about any of this. I will just show you some photographs. The perfect woman is always willing. Silence optional.

Zheng Jiajia, a 31-year-old artificial intelligence expert in Hangzhou, Zhejiang province, created a robot which could eventually become his “lifelong partner,” South China Morning Post reported, citing Qianjiang Evening News. Read more...

This man loves his doll so much he got two more of them. Them? 

“Whatever problems I have, Mayu is always there waiting for me. I love her to bits and want to be with her forever. I can’t imagine going back to a human being. I want to be buried with her and take her to heaven.” Read more about doll love...

Senor PuttingItIn Sighs "Bozhe moy!"

Spring is here and bipolar bunnies like me can think and hop again. I told you I was Struck Dumb. So I put this together. And then I found the perfect illustration on Raw Story comment. Count on Cagle Cartoonists. They are the bomb! 

I have not paid them for this cartoon. I feel guilty. google has denied me the use of adsense. I am thinking about putting up a paypal contribution link so I can afford to stop pirating great cartoons.

We are Chimpanzees with a bit of extra brain power. Cannot refute such an obvious fact. I like Martin Buber: 'One must work to be good, but one happens to be evil.' Hope and faith in humanity against all the evidence.

Donnie Bonespurs
Wanted to be Prez.
Quick he hired an audience
To claque for what He sez.

"See my swagger? G.O.P.
I will grab your pu^^y.
You will elect me.
Just you wait and see."

Donnie Bonespurs
Got elected Prez.
Everybody gasps and laughs
At all he done and sez.

Now Senor PuttingItIn
Sighs "Bozhe moy!
I have so enjoyed
My fat American toy.

Gender Confusion - UPDATE

A record 7.1 percent of U.S. adults self-identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or queer, and members of Generation Z are driving the growth, according to results from a Gallup survey published Thursday. Alfred Kinsey speculated that most folks are bisexual. Too bad he did not live long enough to comment on current developments. 

If you read Leviticus, you come to understand that the tribe of Levi were a sexy bunch. The Levite rules about what one is 'not supposed to do' in a tent, tell us 'what they were doing' in the tent. Auntie Diddlers, evil Father Rapers (apology to Arlo).

Modern life has become a bit more complicated thanks to Science. I am experiencing gender confusion. Think of the flavors available:

Male, Female, Celibate, Polyamorous, Asexual, Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Homosexual, Transgender, Intersex, Queer. Did I leave something out?

I have played at all these things (at one time or another) whenever a situation seemed to require it. You do enough of that and eventually all orifices begin to look alike. Talk about confusion. Even the protuberances become mere supporting structures guiding one into the pink, undulating, lubricious, steaming center of the Pile. Anybody remember Plato's Retreat? The place gave new meaning to the mob phrase "going to the mattresses." But I digress.

I have come to the conclusion that I am a member of a hitherto unsung sexual minority: the Polymorphous Perverse. Subsumes all the other letters. Thank you, Sigmund Freud and Merriam Webster, for clearing it all up for me.

"adj.

Characterized by or displaying sexual tendencies that have no specific direction, as in an infant or young child, but that may evolve into acts that are regarded as perversions in adults; 

and:

Relating to or exhibiting infantile sexual tendencies in which the genitals are not yet identified as the sole or principal sexual organs nor coitus as the goal of erotic activity."

I blame some of my confusion and frenetic activity on the Menopause. When the estrogen went ByeBye, I was swept away by a tidal wave of testosterone. Progesterone? I grew a faint mustache. I have never looked back.

Human sexual variation is a fact of life; it is not an opinion, a sin, or a choice. I am so fricking old that I remember the Sixties. I was there. If it feels good, do IT, we said. Safely. I had to add that thought in the 80s.

And then somebody will find a name for It, ban It, write a book about It, make a video of It, develop a program for swearing off It or a pill to make the sensations more exquisite. Ah, modern life. I am not sure how I feel about it.

Sexual Shame and American Politics (or) This diary has absolutely no redeeming social value. - UPDATED

Mark Sanford is BACK! He has written a new book about his adventures. He is running for POTUS. So I just had to bring this filthy tasteless joke back. Scroll to the bottom if all you want to read is the filthy tasteless joke.

‘I’m a citizen with no country:’ Mark Sanford on turning against Trump and his party | Republicans | The Guardian

Weiner's weiner. 

Somewhere there is a picture of me in blue lace undies, wearing all my wrinkles and a black leather dildo. What can I say? It was Halloween and there was Jameson. Google (and now the NSA) knows that once in awhile I like to look at pictures of corpses and Ladyboys with large mammaries.  

However, I must run for office as a public service, because I am shameless.  And therein resides a source of potential power. In my very first speech, I would confess about the dildo and the filthy pictures. And challenge my opponent to do the same. Just to keep everybody honest. Think about it. If you remove sexual peccadilloes as a disqualifying condition for office, what is there to lie about given general honesty otherwise?

My confession would guarantee undying interest in myself by the MS Media forever.  Think Anthony Weiner's penis pictures. A sigh of relief would be heard in Congress. Normal folks who like to look at weird pictures would see me as friendly. Do you have any idea how many folks would actually vote for me? I could carry a political party to victory on this stance alone. Yea or nay, sex and crime sells. 

I am going to be President if I keep this up. One, make folks laugh and they are yours. Life is looking kind of grim lately. Two, everybody is sick to death of hearing about what other people do with their Things. Maybe we could talk about important things? Like nuclear disarmament? Ending world hunger? Peace? Clean water? 

I got really tired of hearing about "Christian marriage." Dude has no problem reaching into the marriages of others to compel childbirth. Don’t even bother telling me this is not a nice thing to say. Or it is not funny or too snarky. I warned you not to read it, did I not?
*Sanford menage a trois: Jenny, Mark and God. I do wonder who got sloppy seconds.

The Practical Limitations of Government or Dance Like It Is 1975

Because I am a Women's issues gadfly, I troll the Internet message boards for a chance to argue Women's issues. One argument I hear fairly often goes sort of like this: 

"No, you are not in control of your body because The Gummint makes laws about what you can do with it. You can't just take drugs, for example. Or prostitute."

Actually, I can take drugs if I so choose. And I have. I am astounded that anyone thinks The Rules keep people good. It plainly evident that it is humanity's goodness and longing for peace that keeps The Peace of the Rule of Law.

I can choose whatever I want and pay for it. The government has only two responses to behavior it wishes I would not do: prohibition and punishment. These are weak responses in the face of psychoses and/or casual and joyful wrongdoing. How so? Follow me.

I had to have a background check to do a job. I came up with a spotless record. I breathed a sigh of relief because I subscribe to the Rule of Law for the most part, I want my government to be effective and expect it to be, and I thought my Sin would surely find me.

My arrest in 1975 for growing 13 six foot tall marijuana plants in the greenhouse of my country home never showed up. Only time I ever got arrested. Somehow the Police got the idea that my house was the East Coast depot for all the Humboldt County Green. They sent a truck to tow away the bales of marijuana and three squad cars. I was out. They left me note: "Mrs. B, please come on over to the police station." So fully expecting to be slammed into the pokey, I ambled on over to the station house.

They booked me. I confessed to the Judge so they would let my innocent gardener go. The Russian carpenter living in the basement confessed too.  I plead guilty to Misdemeanor Cultivation of a Controlled Dangerous Substance. Cost me a $185.00 fine. Cops took the plants and the baggie with about a gram in it that belonged to Sergei.

All of this happened because the municipal dog catcher had the hots for me and came round to put the make on me one afternoon. I think, on the whole, that even though I had no house I could see out any window, and my nearest neighbor was two miles away, it was a mistake to swim naked in the pool.

Ah, the War on Drugs. The Gummint is not good at "controlling my body." And not good at keeping track of crime and Evildoers like me. Good thing I am not a psychopath and I am sober. Think how much trouble I could get into if I tried, know what I mean? And there are people out there trying every day.

So let us just shed the idea that order is imposed and can be imposed by the government without the cooperation of the people right now. I leave you with these thoughts from Lao Tzu translated by Herrymon Maurer.

Govern the country by regular rules;
Direct the army by cunning moves;
But win the world by avoiding fuss.
How do I know that this is so?
Inward light!

Beneath heaven,
The more rules and prohibitions there are,
The poorer the people become.
The sharper the weapons there are,
The greater the country's confusion.
The cleverer the people become,
The more cunning acts take place.
The more laws and orders there are,
The more thieves and robbers appear.

Therefore the sage says:
I do nothing,
And the people of themselves reform.
I love stillness,
And the people of themselves grow straight.
I don't fuss,
And the people of themselves get rich.
I don't want,
And the people of themselves grow simple.

When the law is dumb dumb,                      

The people are simple simple.

When the law is smart smart,
The people are broke broke.
Good fortune rests on bad fortune;
Bad fortune hides in good fortune.
Who knows the end of this?

It does not stop:
The normal turns into the odd;
The good turns into the weird.
Long have the people been in a stew!

Therefore the sage is
Severe, but he doesn't cut;
Exact, but he doesn't hurt;
Straight, but he doesn't strain;
Bright, but he doesn't dazzle.

Ho's Need Abortions

Oh how I love Third Wave Feminists like the woman in the video below. 

Reminds me of Margot St. James. Speak Truth to Power. Nobody did it better than Margo. Rest in Peace.

"I’ve always felt that if we couldn’t get the prohibition on sex work repealed we would never hang onto abortion rights. It’s the same piece of property. Our property. 

When prostitution is a crime, the message conveyed is that women who are sexual are “bad,” and therefore legitimate victims of sexual assault. Sex becomes a weapon to be used by men." - MARGO ST. JAMES, San Francisco Examiner, Apr. 29, 1979

Margaret Jean "Margo" St. James (September 12, 1937 – January 11, 2021) was an American prostitute and sex-positive feminist. In San Francisco, she founded COYOTE (Call Off Your Old Tired Ethics), an organization advocating decriminalization of prostitution, and co-founded the St. James Infirmary Clinic, a medical and social service organization serving sex workers in the Tenderloin. - wikipedia

www.thevillagesun.com

Left to Right Ti-Grace Atkinson, Flo Kennedy, Margot St. James

Ram Sex. Seriously?

UPDATE: 
I think it important to note that Albert Mohler Jr. was running for President of Southern Baptist Convention.

Citing a desire to serve as a uniter amid turbulent times, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary President R. Albert Mohler Jr. said in October he had agreed to accept a nomination to serve as SBC president at the 2021 SBC Annual Meeting.

So, I made myself read an essay Is Your Baby Gay? What If You Could Know? What If You Could Do Something About It? by Albert Mohler Jr.. Nothing like a good dose of old time Religion early in the day. Bracing. Woke me right up.

Mohler makes a mad dash for Reality. You, Cher Reader, must tell me if he made it. This is one of his conclusions:

Christians must be very careful not to claim that science can never prove a biological basis for sexual orientation. We can and must insist that no scientific finding can change the basic sinfulness of all homosexual behavior. The general trend of the research points to at least some biological factors behind sexual attraction, gender identity, and sexual orientation. This does not alter God's moral verdict on homosexual sin (or heterosexual sin, for that matter), but it does hold some promise that a deeper knowledge of homosexuality and its cause will allow for more effective ministries to those who struggle with this particular pattern of temptation. If such knowledge should ever be discovered, we should embrace it and use it for the greater good of humanity and for the greater glory of God.

The essay gave me cold chills. My Pervert Alarm is clanging bigtime. There is a detailed discussion about the mechanics of turning gay Rams straight. Not the football kind of Rams.

The most interesting research along these lines relates to the study of sheep. Scientists at the U.S. Sheep Experiment Station are conducting research into the sexual orientation of sheep through "sexual partner preference testing." As William Saletan at Slate.com explains:

A bare majority of rams turn out to be heterosexual. One in five swings both ways. About 15 percent are asexual, and 7 percent to 10 percent are gay. What makes the sheep "sexual partner preference testing" research so interesting is that the same scientists who are documenting the rather surprising sexual behaviors of male sheep think they can also change the sexual orientation of the animals.

The vision of a bunch of men sweating in a barn, tugging off some ram's penises and telling themselves they are doing Science cracks me up. Think their penises were flaccid during the event? I wonder if there were any women present.  LMAO. Fluffing rams for Jesus.

Asexual folks need to recuse themselves from discussions about Sex and Society. Illiterate consumers of the Bible the same. Most folk with sexual fetishes do the decent thing and make home videos. Albert Mohler, in the marketplace of ideas, all you are is what you write. Bestiality for Science and God? Cover your proclivities, Love, because your ramrod is out.

Note: I work with this definition of Religion. One can be an anti-theist or atheist and still be 'religious' if we see Religion as a function of the human psyche as Wm. James attests:

Religion...shall mean for us the feelings, acts, and experiences of individual men in their solitude, so far as they apprehend themselves to stand in relation to whatever they may consider the divine. Since the relation may be either moral, physical, or ritual, it is evident that out of religion in the sense in which we take it, theologies, philosophies, and ecclesiastical organizations may secondarily grow. - The Varieties of Religious Experience, Lecture II, "Circumscription of the Topic"

Setting a Boundary

I can be quite rude and I do not mind. I have no shame. Thank you God. Why am I so mean? Why are you so nice?

The Universe or God (take your pick) often arranges to flout me (teach me) in odd ways.

I have a Shrink. Doesn't everyone? In the 20 years we have been working together, she has given me a direct order twice. Those directions were: "Don't fuck him." and "Stay away from your family." She trusts me and she never pushes my defiance/anger button.

I come from an alcoholic Catholic family with sexual and mental health issues. I am one of the bipolar members who spent ten years drinking and drugging. I have no idea how normal folks behave. We, Shrink and I, spend a lot of time establishing boundaries and rehearsing boundary setting. We talk things over.

My Mother used to do sexual checking. Once she made me remove my underpants so she could check if I had sex, after she dragged me down the street and into the house by my hair. I was twelve and a virgin. Consequently, I do not respond to the feelings of humiliation or embarrassment well at all. Not at all.

I have been attending AA meetings since 1980. I do not go often anymore since my Sponsor died, but I still drop in occasionally to get a therapeutic dose of humility. Humility is not the same as humiliation. Folks are friendly and often come to say Hello if they do not know you.

So this woman asks me "How much time do you have?" People are proud of their time sober. I reply with an AA bromide "I have today. How are you?" The woman launches into a tale of her 30 years of spotless sobriety, never a slip, etc. etc. Then she starts telling me basic shit you teach to Newbies. And I had been coming to the rooms since 1980. And no one sane would lecture a Newbie like that anyway. We are trying to assist Newbies not scare or shame them.

I do not know why, but she pushed my humiliation button. I want credit for those years, even if I was slipping and getting drunk once in awhile. I was still learning. I still had a desire to get sober which is the ONLY REQUIREMENT for membership in AA. I know something about how to get and stay sober. I just stood there and listened, furious, humiliated and smiling. Smiling. I know, now that I have studied interpersonal violence, that she triggered me. I was overcome by a tsunami of shame.

I looked at her closely while smiling. A few lonely folks come to visit at AA who never had a drinking problem in their lives. They come for the fellowship and the coffee. They talk the talk but have never walked the walk. And this lady? One of them. Lady yammered on and I stood there. I had no creative response. I just left. And I fumed and paced for days. By the time I got to talk to Shrink, I was still upset.

When you first start setting boundaries, there is no way to be elegant about it. If you tried to set a boundary in my family, you got beat up. Or you had to beat somebody else up. So you do the best you can.

For a long time, I ran away. That was an awesome defense I learned from the Surrender Group. Works for most situations but not all. I needed a simple-to-get-out-of-my-mouth, reasonably polite and nonviolent way to say NO! Some thing I could get out even when triggered. Some thing that would not include endless explaining.

And Lady Shrink gave me the simplest and the sweetest boundary setter of all. "Mary," she said "Say NO THANK YOU." And the light dawned. This is an all purpose defense.

Saying NO THANK YOU and smiling (and leaving if necessary) works. The abuser has no comeback. What can they say? They just stand there.

No Thank You is so easy to say: polite, nonviolent and thorough. And I can usually get it out of my mouth even when I am furious, scared, humiliated, etc. And it works well with trolls who just want to argue and take offense at trifles. 

No thank you. I'm a Barbie girl, in my Barbie world. No thank you. You will drive them boundary banditos up a tree. Peace.

Our Bill. He's a slut and I love him. UPDATE #1.

INTRODUCTION - Skip this if you have read it already.
UPDATE is marked. Soon soon there will be consolidation. I swear.

I remind you this is a Living Article Play Thing. I have a Beginning and and End typed. Soon there will be a Middle.
...............................................
When Bill Clinton was in his impeachment process, I wrote a short play about the event. I entered it into the Ten Minute Play competition and it was performed at the City Theater in Wilmington Delaware. It got a standing ovation from the audience. :::does quiet happy dance:::

Telling a story with interesting characters in 10 minutes is a challenge.

I have not looked at it for a long time. I think for giggles and because my original and only script is in tatters and scribbled all over, I am going to retype and rediscover it here. Who knows, maybe I will rework some of it into a new impeachment opus.

I am a big fan of the Living Theatre. I traveled from East Gibip to attend one of their performances. The photograph is from The Brig 1964. Prophetic?  Their work has been an influence on mine. This is a Living Article because I will be editing and rewriting as I go. Such fun. Send money. Keep me off the Street.

UPDATE begins here:.........................................................

It has been so long since I looked at the script, I forgot the title. Original title was M & M's or Mania, Marketing and Millennium. Bit pretentious, I think now.

BEGINNING:

Bella:
Occasionally, when I feel a need for companionship, I hang out at a bar in Philadelphia affectionately known to we regulars as The Toilet.

Donna:
The Toilet Bar has a large picture window (uniquely decorated for every holiday) through which one may watch exotic flora and even fauna stroll Frankford Avenue.

Bella:
So there is a woman standing on the corner at the bus stop. A white Cadillac stops, she gets in the car and it drives off. Gone 15 minutes. And she is back on the corner.

Donna:
Black Lincoln pulls up. 20 minutes. Back and tucking the green under her wig.

Bella: A Jaguar pulls up. Back at her post.

Donna;
A Lexus pulls up. At this point, the Woman has attracted widespread establishment attention.

Bella:
The whole bar is cheering. And Tommy the Bartender asks "Given stamina, what has this Woman got?" She is generic female. Neither ugly nor lovely.

Donna:
Upon investigation, it becomes clear that whenever a guy in a new car with a $50 haircut approaches, this Woman hikes up her skirt, shows her panties and hollers "Yo Baby, scratch and sniff."

.....................................getting coffee

HOT NEW COPY.

A short play for two characters. It is a play that is also a dance a la Living Theatre a bit. One day perhaps, a dance professional will help me notate it. Here is a bit from the end:

ENDING:

Bella:
I saw an ad for Right Guard. I have a Secret. I do not want to be protected from wetness. I am into sordid unprotected sex with long haired 20 year olds. These days a hard row to hoe.

Donna:
If we apply the concepts we have been discussing, you are in real need of a new look.

Bella:
Botox. Nip and tuck. Piercing various body parts?

Donna:
Ugh.

Bella: Shave the head and grow the legs. Look like a stick in a skirt? That will take off a few years.

Donna:
Too hard. Oh too hard. O tempore!

Bella:
So I went out and got a tattoo. Two eyes. One on each of my inner thighs. That way, if any wandering person should come to visit down there, it will not feel lonely and might tarry awhile.

Donna:
Honey, you still be the same old stuff.

Bella:
Yeah but I have hot new copy.

MIDDLE: Some of it.

Note; This is the part where I talked about Bill's penis. I only have fragments of a script. I am going to have to search in my papers. So no continuity at the moment. Damn.

Donna:S
Modern Life. It is 8 a.m. I am making coffee. My baby girls turn on the TV. I can tell by the lack of noise, they are rapt. Cartoons? No.

 A woman wearing too much fuchsia lipstick is intoning gravely "The President has a penis...and he uses it." Gah. Quick newsbreak 11 a.m. - "The President has a penis, it bends to the left, and he uses it often. News at noon - "The President has a lovely, loyal and intelligent wife; he has a penis and it is evidently the focus of a right wing conspiracy."

Bella:
Bill is no Spring chicken. So same old stuff. Hot new copy.

Mormons Are Dangerous - Real Philadelphia #3

I live in a Philly Rowhouse. My door opens right onto the street. I am hanging out at home one day minding my own business.  I hear Knock Knock on the door. I quick open it.

Standing there are two young guys who look like Tarantino Hit Men. As I was about to draw my sword in defense, I saw little name tags. It is Elders Keith and Kevin. I said "Yo guys. Where's the other K?"

Elder Keith said "We have come to share some scripture with you, Ma'am." I said "Sure. We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." And the scripture throwdown was on. They quoted shit at me; I quoted shit at them; they quoted shit at me...and then, I had an Epiphany.

Elders Keith and Kevin started to look a little sweaty to me. I had a moment of intense self consciousness. I realized I was standing in my doorway in my pajamas, hair uncombed, no bra, doobie in hand at 3:30 in the afternoon. And what was going on for Elders Keith and Kevin was "Oh boy. We have only been in Philly one week and we have met our first real drug addict." I resent that. I am a writer. Context is everything.

I was so upset by the Mormon invasion that friends from St. Philomena's decided I was in dire need of crisis counseling. We went to the Toilet Bar in Frankford. I got so drunk I was treading the fine line between ecstasy and puking. So one of the Ushers took me out into the alley and rolled me a doob. I was able to avoid puking, mellow out and explain myself. Timothy is such a thoughtful young man.

It is not that I do not like Mormons. I understand the spiritual impulse. I have read The Varieties of Religious Experience. I hang out with Quakers and they are really peculiar. I have even been known to drop acid and consult the Lawn Gnomes.

No. It is not that I don't like Mormons. No. This is what bothers me. I am a mental health consumer, occasionally medicated for public safety. I still think Mitt Romney SuperMormon is coming to get me. I know Mitt Romney thinks the same.

Smutty Smut - Asshats on Parade

Utah is the state that consumes the most pornography.

This post has musical accompaniment below.

The sponsor of a recently passed Utah resolution declaring that “pornography is creating a public health crisis” appeared on the Family Research Council’s “Washington Watch” program yesterday to defend the measure, which the governor signed on Tuesday, and allege that the availability of pornography is violating his “First Amendment right to not view it.” - See more...

Dude, stay away from the computer. Or put out your eyes. Problem solved. 

And if your eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell. Matthew 18:9

Whoopee We Are All Gonna Die!

I cannot look at Trump. Cannot listen to the maggots voice anymore. The news is making me sick.

It is fantasizing starting WWIII. And making public threats to do it. We have an insane amoral thug for POTUS. Now what do we do?

John Adams, Defence of the Constitutions of Government of the United States

1787Works 6:130--31, 206--8

The right of a nation to kill a tyrant, in cases of necessity, can no more be doubted, than that to hang a robber, or kill a flea. But killing one tyrant only makes way for a worse, unless the people have sense, spirit, and honesty enough to establish and support a constitution guarded at all points against tyranny; against the tyranny of the one, the few, and the many. Let it be the study, therefore, of lawgivers and philosophers, to enlighten the people's understandings and improve their morals, by good and general education; to enable them to comprehend the scheme of government, and to know upon what points their liberties depend; to dissipate those vulgar prejudices and popular superstitions that oppose themselves to good government; and to teach them that obedience to the laws is as indispensable in them as in lords and kings.

 .

Ode to Stormy Daniels and Sign of the Month - UPDATE

As Congress prepares to return from recess, House Dems explore three roads to impeachment, one of which includes Stormy Daniels. Dems are preparing a new probe of Trump’s illegal hush money payments, exploring whether or not they are impeachable.

Pu^^y Grabs Back 
by M. de Angelis

I love you, Stormy.
Oh yes, I do-ooh.

I love you, Stormy. 

Because you sue-ooh. 

I believe you, I do. 

Oh Stormy, I love you.

Anonymous Speaks Truth at Stereotypes

Poster by Favianna Rodriguez.

I do not know who wrote this. It appeared online without attribution. 

Things radical feminism did not do to me, a transsexual woman (Trans women, please read!)
***trigger warning: rape, assault***

Radical Feminism:

•did not cause my father to beat me with a belt because my body language was ‘girly’

•did not cause neighborhood boys and classmates to beat me up for being ‘faggy’

•did not give me an eating disorder in high school as a reaction to my frame getting bigger during puberty

•did not create the religion that made me think when I was little that I would go to Hell for the ways I thought and behaved

•did not cause my rape by a guy who told me afterward that he thought I was role-playing when I cried and struggled, and admitted it was ‘the hottest sex he’d ever had’

•is not responsible for me and many other trans women feeling terror and hopelessness at the prospect of life as a visibly gender-nonconforming person in a society where this is punished

•did not create the unattainable beauty standards that further complicate my already complex struggle with sex dysphoria

•is not the reason I’ve been consistently mansplained to at every job I’ve held since transitioning by men who do it because they think I was born with a vagina (and thus that they need to talk to me like I’m six years old)

•is not the cause of my street harassment by men who think I was born with a vagina and thus feel entitled to proposition, frighten, or threaten me for their sexual gratification

•did not cause the culture of homophobia that makes dating men dangerous and potentially fatal for trans women

Radical feminism attacks patriarchy, which is the root cause of everything listed above. As trans women, we work against our own freedom, health, and dignity when we misdirect our anger and anguish toward the very people who are fighting the system that hurts us. We strengthen the true source of our social struggles.

Feedback is welcome and hoped-for. Trans women, please feel free to add to this list, especially.

The boys who tried to beat me up, and left threatening messages on my voicemail in school, had not been inspired by Janice Raymond.
Nor did the terms “tr*nny” or “f*g” enter their lexicon via radical feminist theory.
It was a male psychiatrist — not radical feminists — who delayed my treatment because he thought my dysphoria stemmed from the death of my father and the absence of male role models.
Radical feminists are not the reason I was flashed and masturbated at by a man as I walked home at night.
Radical feminists are not responsible for the harassment and unwanted advances I experience virtually every time I go out dancing.
And they never sent me obnoxious sexual messages or dick pics, funnily enough!
First rule of misogyny is that women are responsible for what men do.

Miss Norma - Real Philadelphia #2

Midnight. It was a soft day. Now it is a balmy night. A gentle breeze is sending smoke from the chemical plant out to sea.

Miss Norma is parked outside my door in her running car. I can smell the engine and hear the exhaust. Norma is dancing in her seat with the windows closed and the bass turned up so high the car is pulsating. She has been tossing her hair and waving her arms about for 20 minutes now. Norma has good taste in music, thank you God.

Norma is living in the rowhouse next door with another single Mom and eight children. Norma is sheltering a family while their house is repaired after a fire. The combined children range in age from 3 to 14. It has been three months now. You would be pulsating in your car too. Norma was so trashed after the Eagles game that she was out there pulsating at 2 am. She told me "I do not think I can make it inside." Offers of aid were refused. All must be well because she is running another concert tonight.

Norma has five children. Rosy Posy is my favorite. I promised crayons to all the kidniks for Xmas and then I fell. For awhile I could not write a sentence or even read. I need the boxes with the sharpener and all the colors. Soon children, soon. The girls came by after Christmas and politely reminded me I made a present promise. They are beautiful and I love them.

Norma and I, we have an unspoken deal. I ignore the constant pile of dogshit in her backyard, and her blood curdling howls of frustration that penetrate the brick walls that divide our rowhouses, and she lets me borrow the children and pretend I am their Grandma. Solid. 

Sexuality Test

Young Ru Paul

Note: This is a scale created by a graduate student. It is not the be all and end all of judgements about your sexuality. I post it for fun. I will also post my results. If it is going to make you all anxious and/or indignant, do not take it. 

The Kinsey Scale is a concept developed by Alfred Kinsey in 1948. Instead of describing people as either homosexual, heterosexual or bisexual, Kinsey thought sexual orientation was really a scale from heterosexuality to homosexuality.

"While there was originally no test, it was just inferred from interviews, I have created a test that seems to have good predictive power."

Test and scoring of the test at the LINK. I am a 3.

Spanky Sparkles - MAGIC GOOGLE FINGER

Use a picture. It's worth a thousand words.
Arthur Brisbane

I troll the internet so you do not have to, Cher Reader. Enjoy.

I try to find attribution for every image I post. Often I cannot. Artists, sign your work.

Note to Ben and Candy Carson

"A word to the wise is enough, and many words won't fill a bushel." Benjamin Franklin

Congress and the Executive Branch must be randomly and regularly drug tested. Sauce for the Workingman must be sauce for the Suits. As Wifty Ben's employer, we have a right and duty to insist on sobriety as a job requirement.

BEN: You high Dude. You high as fuck. Dude, you so fucking high I doubt you can fuck. So high you cannot keep your eyes open. High dee high de Ho.

CANDY: How can you allow your husband to go on TV high as a kite? We see him. He is so high he can hardly function. For God's sake and his GO TO AL ANON. Do you care for him or respect him at all? I think not. Takes dedicated drug use to get so sick. Ben has deteriorated. Begun to slur his words. BTDT. Got the Tshirt and wore it out.

Dirty Blues Sunday #5 - Irene Scruggs

Dirty Blues deals with topics that are considered taboo in proper society. Such music was banned from radio and only available on a jukebox in the blind pigs and juke joints of our nation. It was dancing music. Saturday night at the juke joint music.

Irene Scruggs (born December 7, 1901 – died probably July 20, 1981 in Germany) was an American Piedmont blues and country blues singer.

Using the pseudonym Chocolate Brown she recorded tracks with Blind Blake. To avoid contractual problems she was also billed as Dixie Nolan. By the early 1930s, Little Brother Montgomery took over as her accompanist on recordings and in touring.

Provided to YouTube by The Orchard Enterprises. Good Grinding · Little Brother Montgomery with Irene Scruggs