FACEBOOK AND THE FEAR OF NIPPLES

I am restricted from using any of my accounts for 6 days for re-posting a photo of Georgia O'Keefe that Steiglitz took of her.  Her breasts are bare.  You can't really see her nipples.  You couldn't really see Chesty Morgan's either- I got banned for those awhile back.  

Once they target you, everything you post becomes an issue.  And if you have a lot of lurking haters that can't wait for you to post something that gets reported, well...

Gonna switch over to Redditt.  The convos I want to have seem to be happening on Redditt. I just stay on fb because so many people I know are on there.  

FB has restricted me not just on that account, but on all my accounts. 

The real problem with Facebook is that they cannot figure out how to make the product pay to purchase itself.  And they are all greedy fucks that can never have enough money and profits. So like all capitalists they have to keep expanding. 

Social media, like utilities and internet, and big stores and services like Wal-Mart and Amazon, should belong to the people.  They should be public co-ops.  They shouldn't be a way for lazy men to make gobs of money and calling it "working". 

Anyhow. here is a link to a similar picture.  I can't find the one I posted.  I got it off another post on Facebook last year!!!! LOL

https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-alfred-stieglitzs-sensual-photographs-georgia-okeeffe-reveal-vulnerability

Remember, kids, nothing is more powerful than the "female" body- the body of the person with ovaries and a vagina and a uterus.  If people with ovaries claimed their power we could rule the world.  And do it much better than the Sperm people. 

That's why they ban us, exploit us, strip naked, rape us, make us cover up, shame us, don't let us abort, force us to sterilize, and try to control everything about us. 

Here's my nipples back in 2005.  Just to assert the power of The Nipple. 

THE STANDARD HALLOWEEN IS NOT SAMHAIN POST

 art by Margaryta Yermolayeva

Standard Halloween/Samhain disclaimer:  Today is not Samhain.  All Hallows belongs to the Catholic Church, an amalgamation of Dia de los Muertos, Samhain, and probably some other things (like Diwali). 

Samhain (sau-en or sow-en or sav-en) and Bealtainne (be-yall-tin-eh or bel-tin-ah or bel-taine) do lie between the solstices and equinoxes, but they actually have to do with the position of the Pleiades.  (One reason I do not think it is Bealtainne in the southern hemisphere, despite the season.  But there is no record of Druids in the southern hemisphere to guide us on that.  And I have not been able to celebrate either in the Southern Hemisphere and see for myself.)

And there is a reason for it, magickally.  The gateway lies with the Pleiades, not the sun.  These "holidays" also lasts for 3 nights, although there are mentions of longer celebrations, but you really have to dig, and most just go with the Coligny calendar.

If you are only going to do one night, look for the sun at 15 degrees of Scorpio (Taurus for Bealtainne), and remember the "day" begins and ends at sunset, not sunrise.  So look for 15 degrees of Scorpio, after sunset in GMT, to be exact.

Having said that, Halloween is still awesome, still magickal, the veil is still thin, and so many people set out food and offerings that of course the spirits can come with an invite. 

It's just that Samhain is many more things than Halloween.

Happy Halloween peeps!

THE TWO MAJOR FORCES POWERING THE INTERNET FOR ONLY $5

 19 years old (gumroad.com)

"Thanks for the video, you have managed to combine the two major forces powering the internet, cat videos and porn"

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 

So that is now my tagline pitch!!!!  Only $5 for the two major forces combined!!!!

I would also like to say, that I have only sold about 5 or 6 copies, one person paid VERY generously, and I have gotten a few gifts.  It's not really porn, and I am not rolling in dough from exploiting my young body.  (I hear this a lot from people "well you think you can just sell your tits on the internet" etc.

Um, no.

I do try, but I am actually not fond of being in front of the camera- would much rather be behind it, directing, or writing the script. When that video was made I hated my body, thought I was horribly fat because my stomach wasn't flat and I had a line of dimpled cellulite just below my ass.

And also, at the time, I was "Red Rachael" the communist.  I was desperate to reject and overcome my issues from being an abandoned child, desperate for male attention and love.  At puberty when I figured out I could have almost all the male attention I wanted if I just let them have sex I did.  (The men and boys that didn't take advantage of me are in the  minority.)  

By the time the communists showed up in fall of 1981 I'd had my fill of men that were users, abusive, narcissists.  I'd been raped a number of times, once by two men, and strangled twice (one was the two men).  And I hadn't had an orgasm myself once. I'd learned to moan and pretend early on, because oftentimes the man would orgasm then and the sex would finally be over.  (When I finally did have an orgasm I was on my own, reading an article in Cosmopolitan magazine on how to masturbate- also something I had never done before except as a show.)

So my feelings about my body, sex, men, etc, were all very confusing. And in 1992, when I had a suicidal nervous breakdown and went into therapy, I also discovered that I was not Andrea Dworkin, or someone like Linda Lovelace. (I call that period of my life- between 12 and 15 my "Iris Steensma" years because I can't find any other shorthand, but for the most part I was not a prostitute and rarely engaged in that sort of direct exchange- usually it was another kind of payment, not cash- because it always had to be about the largesse of the man and me wanting him- and really, in some ways that was better, because when men straight up paid for it they were usually paying to be abusive and dismissive.)

Until a few years ago, when quite frankly my body changed, including my hormones, I did enjoy all things prurient and especially that women should choose, men should compensate women for sex in some way, or society should. Because even without kids we have the periods, the constant threat of rape and impregnation, etc. 

And also, it is the only thing of value that society has consistently wanted from me.  Men want sex, or to talk about sex, or look at sex, etc, and even women want to photograph or otherwise the female figure, and everyone wants to find a way to make money from it.  And there is a fatigue too, that comes with anything of value a person possesses- like a doctor constantly being asked about people's symptoms wherever they go, or a film director having every waiter pitch them a script, etc.

My disagreements with prostitution, strip clubs, porn, etc, all stem from the fact that they exploit rather than empower women.  In my 20s when I was really trying to write about my early sexual experiences I could not get anything published because "underage sex" was illegal. So go to any bookstore and buy Iceberg Slim's autobiography, or watch Taxi Driver, but if Iris Steensma or the Rachel in Slim's stable had tried to write a book or make a movie it would have been rejected.

And the other thing that I would run into, is people that would insist that there was something wrong with me, that I had suffered myself and still thought sex work was wrong! Many of these people weren't religious.  I get that most women want to find one guy and settle down and have kids, but I also know that given the opportunity there is a great chunk of men out there that are not going to do that, and it unrealistic to expect it. 

(I used to think to myself that I had to have sex with all of these men because their wives and girlfriends didn't. At 13 I really thought I was responsible for blue balls and that I was a tease- and I probably was- I wanted men to look at me so I dressed sexy and flirted.  I just didn't want or like the sex, I just put up with it. But I thought I obligated to provide it because I had made the men excited and their wives wouldn't have sex with them.)

Anyhow, so when this video was made, I didn't see the amazing young body I see now, and I wish I had appreciated myself more.  Many of the photos that I have were taken by boyfriends with a lot of protesting that I was "too fat" and "too gross". 

And later, when I did try to do these on my own, I just cannot seem to market myself of play the game right.  The whole acquisition of money is so exhausting to me.  "Selling myself." I am way too honest to do that.  And too weird.

And also now I don't feel it as much.  I want companionship and help with the storm windows and someone who isn't going to flinch at my 56 year old (in 5 days) body.  Part of my problem now is that I listened to a lot of very detailed complaints from all those men about how disgusting older women's bodies were. And also I flinch at myself these days. So taking selfies and doing topless Skype chats is probably over. (And with very few exceptions I don't look at dick pics for free.  Or for cheap. And not that I get many, but just FYI. )

But to be clear, I don't think badly of anyone who buys this video.  I'm 19 in it, not 13.  I am selling it because I need money and my thanks and appreciation for every purchase are very sincere and  heartfelt.  I also understand that there is a limited market.  I'm also selling my stories, my office and other skills, and this HP Stream Laptop (good for gamers-and barely used $100).

Also, any gifts are welcomed as well.  Or any book advances from publishers that want me to write my life story! 

Thanks for listening!

READ THIS BEFORE YOU THINK ABOUT DEATH

 Haha, right?  The title is a trap!  You already thought about death!  

My favorite magazine, The Sun, delivers the most thought provoking, timely interviews every month. (Also excellent, prose, poetry, fiction and photographs.)  And every month I have at least one major epiphany.  Usually a nexus of seemingly unrelated things swirling about in my head come together.*

The magazine has a monthly theme too, and this month it is Death.  The interview is with Sheldon Solomon, and his research and theories really fill in a gap on why fascism endures, and why we often respond inappropriately to life- altering change.

This Mortal Coil | Deborah Golden Alecson | Issue 544 | The Sun Magazine

You’re probably not even cognizant that death is on your mind. We know that death reminders have consequential effects on a panoply of everyday behaviors. Most people who are reminded that they’re going to die eat more chocolate-chip cookies, for example. People who consume alcohol are more likely to buy a drink after a death reminder. People who smoke cigarettes not only smoke more but inhale more vigorously.

If you tell people who find tanning attractive — and whose self-esteem is based on their physical appearance — that being out in the sun causes skin cancer, and then you ask, “How long are you going to stay out in the sun, and how much sunscreen are you going to use?” they say they will stay out a lot longer and use less sunscreen. What’s happening is that, when they’re reminded of death, they are unconsciously trying to boost their self-esteem, which is based on their appearance. Death reminders, in this case, foster behavior that may make you die sooner.

We get our values from our culture. If our culture emphasizes caring for children and old people, for example, then when we’re reminded of death, we should want to take care of children and old people more. But if we have a culture of narcissism, then when we’re reminded of our mortality, we turn into narcissists.

***

Our very first study was conducted with twenty-two municipal-court judges in Tucson, Arizona. We reminded half the judges that they were going to die and used the other half as a control group, who received no reminder. Then we had all the judges pretend to set bond for an alleged prostitute. In the control group the judges set an average bond of about fifty dollars, which was the norm in Tucson at the time. The judges who’d been reminded of their mortality, however, set an average bond of $450. This is a remarkable difference. After the study, when we told the judges what we had done, they all said there was no way the questionnaire could have altered their judgments in the case. Here were people trained to adjudicate the law in a rational and uniform fashion, yet just a subtle reminder of death was like putting a giant fist on the proverbial scales of justice.

***

I guess what has surprised us most is finding that death denial touches every aspect of our lives. For example, how come people can’t get along with others who don’t share their beliefs? Becker’s view is that accepting someone else’s beliefs undermines my confidence in my own. Therefore, he predicted, when we run into people with different beliefs, we will try to convince them to adopt ours, and if that doesn’t work, we will denigrate them or even kill them.

Sure enough, in our studies, we have found that when we remind Christians they’re going to die, they like Christians more and Jewish people less. When Germans are reminded that they’re going to die, they sit closer to people who look German and farther from people who look like immigrants. Iranians reminded that they’re going to die are more supportive of suicide bombers. Americans reminded they’re going to die are more supportive of using chemical, biological, and nuclear weapons against countries that do not in any way threaten us.

So the biggest surprise is really the consistency and robustness of the effects. They have been replicated in a variety of settings, in around twenty-five countries on five continents, and in children as young as ten and adults as old as their eighties.

***

So the best thing to do, Solomon advises, is embrace the fact that you are going to die, and that it could happen at any time.  All you have are the choices you make in this moment.  Decide what is important and focus on it.  

I agree.  But I am also glad to finally understand the whole Hitler/Trump thing.  (Read the rest of the interview for more.)

Blessings, peeps, I hope you are enjoying this beautiful Spring weather!!!  

* Like species 010 for 3.2 seconds as 7 of 9 observes it in ST:V episode "The Omega Directive".

RAIN BOWIES, LAZARUS AND RESURRECTION

I see meme's that a heavy metal is going to be named after Lemmy of Motorhead.  Someone posted a meme saying that Bowie should have an exotic reef fish named after him because of his colourful personas over the years.

On Sunday a giant rainbow appeared over New York City.  A "rain-Bowie" a woman on facebook called it.  (This link shows all the photos of the rainBowie.)  The link describes how "Starman" was partly inspired by "Over the Rainbow".

I don't normally associate Bowie with a lot of Christian symbolism, but looking at the "Lazarus" video I was struck that his last album's first single was named for a resurrection, the album was released on a Friday, Bowie's birthday, and he died on Sunday.

Bowie's resurrection was to return to the womb of all creativity.  "Look up, I'm in Heaven."  And here was the corpus of Iris to show the path to the next realm.  Bowie is painting on a larger canvas now, for all to see.  We only have to look to the sky, to the astral, to Heaven.  Now there truly is a Starman waiting in the sky.

EDIT: 15 January 2016: A great article about Bowie's occult symbolism... A must read for Magickal Folk, CM's, Kabbalists, and Bowie Fans...

I believe in celebrating one's birthday- even if just singing to yourself a "Happy Birthday" song- because the door you come in to this life is the same door you exit out of life.  And it seemed appropriate to me because I do see Bowie as a God.  He was definitely a World Walker.  And a Shaman.

I might form a church called "RainBowie" or something.


EDIT/PS: I see Bowie faces in the cloud shapes.  I guess I will be like one of those Elivs fans that is always seeing faces in pancakes and stuff.  Maybe when an artist means that much to someone you see them everywhere after they are gone.

DUFF'S REMINISCES, DANIEL, AND DOMINATRICES

Duff's in the Central West End is closing after 41 years of business at the end of June.

I associate Duff's with Lawyers and Poets. The high ceilings and solid wood pew-like tables and chairs create an atmosphere that summons the erudite folk for pints and educated conversations.

Most of my recent memories from Duff's, since moving back three years ago, are from Chance Operations,   I attended the premiere Chance Operations and I hope to attend the last one that will be held at Duff's, on June 24th.  (It is rumoured they will be moving to another location.)

Also a Secretary's Day luncheon with an attorney employer, a few random drinks, on a few different nights, with a few different people, going between Brennan's and Balaban's or Dressel's.

One of the strongest memories I have is a night at Duff's back in 1983 or so.  When I was 15 I became a radical political activist.  A bit of a recap for anyone that doesn't know my history: shortly before I turned 12 I had started drinking, having sex, and smoking cigarettes.  Drugs followed quickly.  I was a runaway, often on the streets, and living an extremely sexualised life involving too many older and often very dangerous men.

During the summer of my 15th year I was desperate to get away from the life I was living.  I initially embraced punk rock and revolutionary communism because it scared off all the men I didn't like. I cut my hair short and started hanging out in the Delmar Loop and Central West End with punk rockers, people of colour, and homosexuals. It was like magic.  Poof!  Suddenly I was free of all my old ties, with very little drama, threats, or bodily harm.

However,  I continued to be an activist for the next nine or ten years because of experiences like that night in Duff's, 30 years ago.

One thing that I did almost every day as a political activist was to sell revolutionary newspapers. Daniel Sheehan of the Christic Institute was speaking at Washington University Law School, and I went (alone, I think) to sell papers to the crowd waiting to go in, and also to attend.

(The question and answer period of talks like these were considered as important as selling the newspapers.  Because often a question could be framed in such a way as promote propaganda and invite debate on the revolution.)

I knew who Sheehan was because of the Silkwood case and Kerr-McGee.  The Christic Institute had become a major source of information about the deeds of the US government and corporations.  In addition to Karen Silkwood, the Institute had been involved with the La Penca bombing (the movie Above the Law with Steven Seagal was based on the information uncovered by the Christic Institute) and defended many other activists, including both of the Berrigans.

Afterward I ended up in conversation with several other attendees and Sheehan himself.  He invited me to come with his party to Duff's, along with Wash. U. professors and students and attorneys.  It was not just the thrill of being included, but to be taken seriously by someone like Sheehan.

In the last three years, without all of my many journals and diaries and scrapbooks  to assist me, my memories have become somewhat eroded.  This night is still very strong, but the details are gone-- what questions I asked during the Q&A, what Sheehan and I discussed, etc.  Those things were recorded in archives I do not have access too, currently.

I recall that he asked me a lot of questions.  I was somewhat infamous for turning my High School upside down, attempting to bring two controversial Salvadoran refugees to speak at assembly.  (They didn't make it to the High School, but they did end up speaking at the College next to the High School.)

At that time in my life I'd had very few experiences with men that weren't sexual.  I had a distant, stern uncle that visited my grandmother once a year, and a crazy grandfather (a former attorney) that I almost never saw and was embarrassed of when I did.

Even the "nice" boys from my grandmother's neighbourhood (where I went to High School) were always groping me in private, or cornering me, or seducing me.  (I ended up with the not nice boys because at least they still acknowledged me after they got what wanted.  Even if it was angry or abusive, at least it was male attention.)

To not only have a man like Sheehan paying attention to me because of my MIND was unbelievable.  I had been having other experiences like this, with other revolutionaries and activists, but Sheehan was a kind of radical celebrity.  And while I don't remember the exact details of the questions, I do remember that he was genuinely interested in my life and who I was.  If his libido had anything to do with it he hid it very well.

This memory is so strong, and warms me still on the coldest nights, because Sheehan's attention elevated me.  While I might have understood that on some unconscious level, it came to me like an epiphany when I saw the notice about Duff's closing in my facebook feed.

Just recently I was having a conversation with someone about the different types of Dominants and Submissives.  Or perhaps methods of Domination and types of Submissives.  It isn't all about flogging and ball torture.

In fact, there are many Dominants that do not engage in anything physical.  The relationship can be entirely mental or emotional.

But in particular I was relating a story from my own experience, when I was very interested in and learning about the BDSM community and lifestyle.  Too Dominant to train as another's Submissive, "learning the ropes" so to speak, I called a Submissive I knew and ordered him to be my Slave and teach me to be a Dominant.

One of the first things he taught me, and a common misunderstanding outside of the community, is that there is a big difference between humiliation of the Sub, as the lesser in an unequal relationship, and the type of Dominant he wanted and thought me to inherently be.

That is, the Dominatrix, without even uttering a word, is so powerful to the Submissive, that not only is his submissiveness summoned and then commanded by the Mistress, her power is such that it actually ELEVATES the Sub.

"When you fight Xena and she kicks your ass," he told me, "you become one of an elite group of warriors that has even FOUGHT Xena, or encountered her."

I suppose this reminisce is not so much about Duff's, itself, but for me this warm memory of my encounter with a truly amazing and inspiring man, that alone would be enough to keep the place alive in my heart until the day I, too, retire.

RIP Duff's.

BLESSINGS!

YOU'LL HAVE HAD YOUR BURNS NIGHT SUPPER THEN, HAMISH?

2014 Edit: And this http://laladyrae.blogspot.com/2014/01/slainte-mhath.html

The moon is full tomorrow night in beautiful sunny Leo.  And here tonight there was a wonderful, pearly moonbow.  What a gorgeous light to seduce and celebrate some poetry!

Tonight is Burns Night, the birthday celebration of the Scottish poet Robert Burns.  Haggis is paraded about and recited poetry to and then consumed.  (The Scots national dish is most demonstrative of the national character: "we're not cheap, we're frugal!")

Have a toast of some fine Scotch! Slainte!

The title of this post comes from: Hamish and Dougal

Robert Burns, Auld Lang Syne sung by Eddi Reader

Selkirk Grace

Great Chieftain o the Puddin Race!