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Showing posts from January, 2017

July 27, 2017

The colossal bombs went off almost simultaneously: the first at 1 NE Street, Washington, D.C., otherwise known as the Supreme Court of the United States; the other at Hollywood and Vine in Los Angeles, California.

The smoke hadn't even settled before we heard about the "Muslim terrorists" who had killed over a thousand Americans. Pictures of menacing brown people proliferated on FOX News. Breitbart screamed for revenge. The President tweeted his outrage and vowed to "crush the Muslim menace".

CNN had a different story, the scoop of the century. They had footage clearly showing white men with crewcuts placing the bombs in both Washington and Hollywood.

That footage aired once. And then CNN mysteriously went off the air. When it came back on, two hours later, there was a flurry of insincere sounding apologies. Apparently the footage was a hastily conceived put-up job perpetrated by persons unknown.


Stories of a false flag operation circulated online. The governme…

Can't Help But Fly

I've been wanting to deconstruct this song since I first heard it, and marvelled at it, almost four years ago. This is the purest expression of polyamory I have yet heard. This song is by "Naima Infinity", and all interpretations are mine.

magnetic attraction 
mutual satisfaction 
first sight, love at eye contact
i love it that our passion is such a high contrast
to the possessiveness that limited our loveships in the past

Love at first sight. Whether you've experienced it or not, you likely know someone who has.
I haven't, oddly enough. Not quite. What I have felt, four times now in a huge way, is an instant connection, a sense of the cosmos slapping me in the face and saying "LOOK HERE, THIS PERSON IN FRONT OF YOU IS IMPORTANT."
And in each case, they were. In each case, that feeling rapidly developed into love as I understood it at that time. Two of those people I have since had to, in the interests of love, walk away from. The other two are at the very c…

The Evolution of the Breadbin

We are fundamentally lazy souls, the three of us here. And the house, not to put too fine a point on it, looks it.

I am always just a little envious of other people's homes. All of them. It doesn't matter how little space you have or how humble the decor is, what strikes me immediately upon entering your domicile is that compared to mine, it looks like you're about to show it. No clutter. Surfaces clear. Lots of space to move around.

Our home looks like a frat house by comparison, and complaining about it is pointless because: see first sentence, above.

The kitchen is particularly bad. Like most houses built in 1969, ours lacks for both counter and cupboard space; what little of the former we have is cluttered up by gadgetry undreamed of in 1969, and the cupboards are falling apart. The kitchen will simply have to be redone before we sell, and since we (a) don't plan on selling any time soon and (b) don't have sixteen thousand dollars just laying around, it isn'…

I Beg To Differ!

I am still getting fundamentally misunderstood.

Not by those nearest and dearest to me: by definition, those people understand what I am about. But people on the periphery have made some wilfully ignorant and frankly insulting remarks about the way I live and love.

Still seething from being completely misread last night, I happened to stumble on an old article called

"Why Polyamory Just Doesn't Work".

Really?

Really?

Such a short, pithy article, that comes across more as an advertorial for the authors' books and seminars. They seem to be 'relationship experts'...which is all well and good, but it should give you an idea of the clients they deal with. Who goes to a relationship expert to say "everything in my love life is going swimmingly, not a single problem in sight?" That's like a mechanic suggesting you should never buy a car because, well, every car she sees in her shop has something wrong with it.

Let's look at the 'arguments' t…

The Seven Loves

My grade 13 Classical Civilizations course with Rev. ("Uncle Rog") Roger McCombe affected me more than the rest of my high school classes put together.
We learned a lot about the ancient Greeks and Romans in that course, but we learned even more about ourselves. He was one of the great teachers: passionate enough to jump up on desks and stomp around ("A.D. DOES NOT STAND FOR AFTER DEATH!", he would scream); compassionate enough to offer free hugs to anyone who needed them (and many of us, girls and boys both, took advantage).

Some time before my OAC year, I had decided my purpose in life was to love. This wasn't something I could have articulated so baldly back then; in fact, "decided" is may be a bit of a stretch. I was at the very beginning of the process of taking on my Aspect and raising up my Attribute. It's a process that is ongoing today.

But one particular week of Classical Civ classes kick-started that purpose in earnest. It was the week …

Honesty Is Such A Lonely Word

(with extra added bonus material, because I ramble on)
________

I can always find someone
To say they sympathize
If I wear my heart out on my sleeve
But I don't want some pretty face
To tell me pretty lies
All I want is someone to believe
--"Honesty", Billy Joel

A good friend of mine recently wrote a blog about honesty, or rather dishonesty, and her experiences with it in a romantic context.

I have been very lucky to have had honest lovers in my life. (The dishonest ones just lie there...sorry, I had to). Even the one who cheated on me never bothered to lie about it. It just never came up.

I think I'm pretty honest, as people go. I wasn't always. I went through the usual two stages of lying: first, when I discovered it was a thing, and second, about ten years later when truths sometimes became hard to face or express.

That second stage lasted a lot longer than it should have. My parents gave me the standard admonition, that I might get in trouble for something I'…

Man Up

Oh, did this article ever piss me off.

"Dear feminists", it starts, and no good ever came of a beginning like that. "Male vulnerability isn't a virtue."

I know what's coming, said my blood, as it started to surge most unpleasantly. Somewhere in here I'm going to see the words 'man up'.

There are good reasons why generations of fathers have taught their sons to “man up,” and it’s not because young boys are blank canvases on which the patriarchy can paint its oppression. It’s because men in general have essential natures that are different from women. We tend to be more aggressive, more energetic, and less nurturing than women...

Oh, where to start, where to start. How about at the beginning?

I cried a lot as a kid. Too much, really. I don't mean to belabour the point I've made over and over and over again, that other people's pain always seemed as if it was my own, and even the destruction of inanimate objects caused me to break down.

T…

Going Moldy....

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