Monday, January 29, 2007

The Rat Woman: A Natural Bewitcher

What, in heaven’s name, is a “rat woman?” Dear readers, do any of you have a definition for this type of woman? When I first encountered the term, taken in context, it seemed to carry a strong negative connotation. To me, it signified one who is notoriously evil, devilish, fiendish, lacking in sincerity, with a penchant for destroying others. For example, if one is referred to as a “she-rat”, I doubt it's being expressed as a term of endearment.

In my experience, I’ve found that attractions to “rat women” are usually the result of a strong archetypal energy pattern the “rat lover” carries, which becomes his hook, or point of projection. There are many reasons why we find others attractive. Generally, the reason being, “the other” has constellated a powerful image in our psyche. This is a sensitive point for us because we actually contain the image within ourselves too, but it’s hidden.

Men, who find themselves at the mercy of a rat woman’s feet, are bestowing archetypal power on a woman who happens to be just as human as he is. Is this wrong? I’m not sure it is, as I think it’s a natural human tendency to impart divine qualities onto that which is hidden. Because it remains “under the radar” we are all to eager to assign these projections to others who sure make fine receptacles, as long as they too are feeding power to the same image. However, men who experience this power as being “done to them”, need to effectively draw back their projection and see it for what it’s worth, their own inner image of the feminine, or their expectation of it what it is.

These images, in childhood, are passed down from parental figures, but are far more powerful and large than the actual parents. However, our own parents play the part well themselves. Those who attract rats are actively projecting some part of their own ravished feminine upon a woman, who, because of her identification with the Persephone archetype, is only too eager participate.

If there is one thing I’ve learned from my smorgasbord of failed relationships, it's when to pull the projection back when it get’s out of hand. Consider this a strong jerk in the right direction.

Friday, January 26, 2007

Your Favorite Femme-Bot Examines Marriage

Look closely at this picture, dear readers. What is the overall message here? The picture portrays a man in mid-asking. Obviously, this man on bended knee is asking the young woman for her hand in marriage. However, there are other factors to analyze in the landscape within the frame. The imagery in this artwork is amazing.

First of all, the man’s face is frozen in an expectant expression. He seems to be saying with his eyes, “Will you?” He’s crouched forward in anticipation of her answer. His overall appearance is somewhat frumpy evidenced by his rounded belly and large backside, which actually is somewhat feminine if you look closely.

He is also gesturing with his right-hand to the old man sitting in the chair behind the “bride-to-be”. This older man is looking forward, indicating he has made up his mind, and is not concerned with the bride-to-be’s reaction. Does she like her suitor? Is there love between them?

This father figure is oblivious to her negative reaction, and is looking ahead in anticipation of what seems to be his daughter’s impending arranged marriage. The young man seems desperate, sensing his future bride’s disgust, and gestures towards the patriarchal father, as if to say to the girl, “See, even your Dad approves, in fact, in his mind, you’ve already been married off.”

Next, let’s look at the bride-to-be. Her left arm is drawn back toward her breast, as if to say, “I, sir, belong to myself, and never to you, I will not be sold to you like a piece of furniture.” The cross necklace around her neck symbolizes her commitment to Christ, as a divine marriage between herself and Him. She, the Virgin Bride, will have no part in a marriage of mere mortals. Her facial expression reveals the strict judgment she has passed upon the groom-to-be. Clearly, he does not meet her standards.

Interestingly, the couple sitting to the right adds to the imagery. The woman is sitting with what presumably could be her husband, evidenced by the body language between the two. This woman has cast a look of anxiety and worry in the direction of the bride-to-be. Her expression is fearful as she inches closer towards her husband, her safety net.

What would happen if the bride-to-be didn’t accept the invitation and defied her father? How would this woman support herself, how would she live? For the woman sitting with her husband, marriage is a tool for survival. These men represent a woman’s future, economically and socially. Where there is no marriage, there is no security. Thus, women are “sold” to potential suitors with great zeal in the marriage market. Get these girls married off so they are protected and provided for, for god’s sake!

The man sitting next to the woman on the right, presumably her husband, seems somewhat entertained by the situation. However, his left arm is propped up on his hip in defiance as if to say, “Let’s see how far you can get honey without the help of this man.”

And lastly, the man in the back standing next to the fire place has obviously lost his love. The bride-to-be will be forced to marry the boy on his knee, and he will lose her. His expression seems pained as he looks on at her predicament. The father is totally lost to this young woman; yet, the man in the background does take notice. He is only person in this picture who actually seems concerned about the bride’s feelings toward the groom. Although, his hand, placed in his front pocket, seems to indicate he has resigned to the inevitable. There is nothing he can do.

So, why write this tremendously verbose explanation for this picture? Dear Readers, it personifies the horrendous conditions under which women were bartered in a marriage system designed to benefit a patriarchal society. Collectively, these attitudes still remain entrenched in our society.

Many of us have witnessed our own mothers using marriage as a tool for survival. The humiliation women face as a result of being associated with this type of situation cannot be avoided. We can assure others our marriages are about love, but what is the hard reality we’re facing here? Can we make our house payment without our husband’s income? Can we manage our financial future with confidence even without our significant other?

If not, as women, we will experience our relationships as being necessary to our survival, and we are diminished. We are diminished because we have put ourselves at the mercy of another’s hands. This, with the divorce rate at over 50%, is unacceptable. There is also the annoying fact of our impending death. We are mere mortals, and at some point, our “security” maybe ripped out from underneath us through death.

We need to be responsible for our own survival. As women, we cannot, in good faith, hinge all of our hope for the future upon another person’s care of us. And this needs to be addressed on all levels in our lives, financially, emotionally, physically, we must be learn to care for ourselves with the same dedication we were taught, as women, to care for others.

The woman in the picture didn’t have choice. In the old system, women were property (and still remain so in other parts of the world today!) and distributed to their masters accordingly. Now, we do have choice, and choice is an amazing thing, it provides for the freedom we’ve been craving. But still, it’s up to us to use it, let’s not pass up the opportunity to grow stronger, wiser, and more responsible in our world.

I leave you with a tribute to an old favorite… Ani D, no one does it better than her.

Not a Pretty Girl- Ani DiFranco

i am not a pretty girl
that is not what i do
i ain't no damsel in distress
and i don't need to be rescued
so put me down punk
maybe you'd prefer a maiden fair
isn't there a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere

i am not an angry girl
but it seems like i've got everyone fooled
every time i say something they find hard to hear
they chalk it up to my anger
and never to their own fear
and imagine you're a girl
just trying to finally come clean
knowing full well they'd prefer you
were dirty and smiling

and i am sorry
i am not a maiden fair
and i am not a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere

and generally my generation
wouldn't be caught dead working for the man
and generally i agree with them
trouble is you gotta have yourself an alternate plan
and i have earned my disillusionment
i have been working all of my life
and i am a patriot
i have been fighting the good fight
and what if there are no damsels in distress
what if i knew that and i called your bluff?
don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down
whether or not you ever show up

i am not a pretty girl
i don't want to be a pretty girl
i want to be more than a pretty girl

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Kick Start That Mule

Dear Readers, job burnout is a bitch. Since my energy level has been sufficiently lower than usual lately, I’ve been hard pressed to carryout even the most basic of tasks. For example, the process of getting ready in the morning.(Although, I never will forgo my daily hygenie routine, cleaniness is important after all.) My creative life has also suffered as the well dries up when the body/mind is treated like a machine.

As a result of compounded stress, I almost threw down my #2 pencil and quit my job today. It was tempting. The stress has been constant lately, and unfortunately, right now I don’t have the inner resources to sustain the chaos that comes with the territory. After so many years of telling myself to “Kick Start that Mule” I’ve finally grown weary. I still, however, have the energy to be a MegaBitch to anyone who even looks at me twice. Yet, I don’t think telling co-workers to “get fucked” is a proper way to deal with stress. Any other suggestions?

In an article, The Four Stages of Burnout, the progressive signs of burnout are laid out. The cynicism, callousness, emotional, physical, and mental exhaustion associated with job burnout all apply here. On another related website, Stress Management Resources, one can take a quiz to see how far along in the burnout process they are. I scored a 58 out 75, which was generous. My sentiments today asking a co-worker for a dull knife to gauge out my eye reveals something different. Evidently, I require a higher stress rating. Maybe I should have my own stress category called, “Your head is going to explode, please remove yourself from the public sphere immediately”,--at least others would be sufficiently warned then.

Ever notice how it’s easy to feel alone even with a crowd of people around? It’s also easy to feel overwhelmed with all the help in the world. And sometimes it’s just easier to hide from it all. And even though, dear readers, I don’t know what it is to live in your shoes and deal with your stress, I sure can sympathize.

Amos Lee- Sympathize

It ain't no jive
I was burning alive
Whenever you walk in the room
It happened so quickly
I was feeling so sickly
Like a lover who lost his muse

The sharks in the tank or
The men in the bank
He wants my money to loan
I can't understand
What the hell is his plan
While he ain't even got a home
Ain't got a home

Girl on a street
With holes in her feet
Looks through the eyes of a cloud
She don't look amazed
She's feeling kind of sad
So I just walk around

I reassess
She's down on her luck
She's reading a book of lies
I don't know when I'll be coming home baby
But I can sympathize
can sympathize

She drops to the floor
Her head's by the door
Her bible is by her side
Heaven is calling
The new world is falling
And she ain't got a single person left
To confide
No one to confide

I sympathize
Can sympathize

Monday, January 22, 2007

A Techni-Colored Dream Inspires This Stream

I put my hand on the crystal ball and my eyes saw…..

In a neon forest the trees were spinning, from the ground they came, the blue and yellow leaves, snakes transforming, landscapes changing, the ground-breaking, the orange sky shaking, an earthquake quickening, the explosion rocking, a desperate launching, a girl leaving, the last escape, the last chance, a radio malfunctioning, Jesus freaks waving their arms in the air, speaking in tongues, the blood in their mouths turning to rust, the court embracing a lie, the fatty excess leaking through the door , the system unfolding, the breath of death staring down at the face of a little girl, the uneasiness mounting, the wounds of the fleshing escalating, intensity circulating, drinking the kool-laid, the brainwashed followers partaking, the efficiency of the mass-grave containing humanity’s waste, flies hovering above the edge of the dinner plate, eating our mistakes, eating our habits, eating our addictions, eating the atrocities done in the name of God, holding hands so we can embrace love, licking gold from the moon to find our way home, separating our ambitions from dead weight, experiencing purity while fortifying destiny.

Neon Forest- Iggy Pop

I'm sliding like a lizard on my belly and back
It's a miracle I haven't fallen through any cracks
The life on display is trouble for sure
The drugs that I took have made me impure

The neon forest is lighting up
The neon forest is lighting up
My brain

I've learned some nasty lessons so I'm shutting
My mouth
A fury in my gut is spinning me round
and round
To be a total phony is the winning design
When the fabric of life is a horny goldmine

The neon forest is my home
And like a cartoon cat I roam
Where only kids are still alive
And anyway they're gonna fry
My brain

You can get a weird prize for being adored
You can join the "in crowd" for being a whore
Although you are lonely you wish for a fence
America takes drugs in psychic defense
You can say what you want but nobody's there
Have you got any money?
Are you anybody?

"You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book... or you take a trip... and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might generate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken." Anais Nin

Friday, January 19, 2007

Holy Cow

If I walk to Dublin

'cause my feet, God, are sore,

but I'll show them

I've got a girl in my pocket book

and some proverbs

Gonna take it, take it there

and something's happening

I'm property of my family

and Gideon tells me where to go

I'm gonna break down your father's alter and moo

- Tori Amos- "Walk to Dublin"

Skirt Chasin'

It took me a long time to finally stop imaging every boy that I’ve ever saw in a dress. Because boys, at some point, will all have their manhood stripped from them. The only difference being, I saw it in my mind’s-eye long before they could ever fathom it. I knew that purple sash and little Bo Peep bonnet would look nice on him long before he ever did.

For most men the transformation is necessary part of development. Tori A. said it best in her song, Caught a Lite Sneeze, when she said “Boys in their dresses, but you're not here.” Sometimes the ego disappears, and identity is lost during the unraveling of our false self. Where do we go when we lose ourselves? Do we sublimate our thoughts, desires, and needs and lose contact with our instinctual drives?

This happens easily to men who are often taught to ignore their feminine side, in favor of unrelenting masculinity. Men without a proper container to hold their femininity will project all their neurotic tendencies on to the woman with the right hook (to hang his projection on, that is.) This is the one that draws him in.

Of course, women too experience their own form of de-humanization and humiliation. For many women, the unintended consequence of sublimating our inner male has forced itself to the surface through violent abusive relationships, or splits between our bodies and minds. Women, with our tendency to contort ourselves into chameleon-like poses to please everybody, need to collectively develop a lower tolerance for bullshit.

And really, the only way to overcome it is to build a divine marriage of opposites within yourself. Relationships should only exist as a container for self-discovery, if we are aware enough. The rest of the work should be done in the confines of our own minds. Even if the only thing you can see is a bunch of dudes standing around in their pretty dresses.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Attention Deficit Disorder Creeps Into My Fantasy

And it’s so good I can’t wait
to push down on the accelerator
we’re too far down our own roads to tolerate
too much togetherness in one space
still it’s tempting to stay and watch the sunrise from your room
hot with the sweat from the night before
my back pulsating, my teeth grinding
in all the air I’m breathing
and if I return to the wound with you
to light up the cave and surrender
and I put down my sword
and you put down your knife
to get closer to the truth at the center of a lie
a lie we’ve both followed with our heads bowed
we could walk away from the torture chamber
without anymore angry insults strewn among the debris of discarded thoughts

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

I kinda always knew you’d end up my ex-boyfriend.

My ex-boyfriend is such a douche bag. It’s not that he did anything horribly wrong, or offended me in epic portions. However, merely his continued presence on this planet irritates me. Since every word he uttered caused me to curl up into little ball and scream “la la la la!” while covering my ears, it’s probably better that we are not together anymore.

Yet, seeing pictures of him on-line schmoozing it up with other girls is like driving by a bad car accident, you don’t want to look, but you almost have to. I did notice the woman he was hugging looked like an anorexic fish with a large fish-head. But dear readers, really, whose keeping score? This man was so horrible in the sack, my libido nearly dried up during the course of the relationship. Talk about a long dive down a dry well! Someone bring me some water!

He also was excruciatingly boring and dull-down to the very fiber of his being. Thank Goddess he had the decency to get lost. I never specifically told him to lose my number; he just sort of faded into the oblivion. There was no angry outburst, name calling, or biting involved here. Hell, even the break up was boring. We simply just stopped calling each other. It was the best non-relationship and non-break up I’ve ever had.

At the same time, some of the wind was taken out of my sail since, unfortunately, I was not able to tell him to go fuck himself. And dear readers, after being subjected to his endless stream of witty repartee for a good six months I deserve better than that!

I should’ve at least been afforded an opportunity to spank him like his mother never did. I would’ve tied his ankles to the bed post, bound and gagged him with a heavy cement block and repeatedly lashed him until he was brought to tears. But, shoulda, coulda, woulda, hindsight is always 20/20 in these situations.

There is a wonderful little website offering free revenge services to punish that one unique bastard that got away. Every once in awhile we need a bit of help implementing our most diabolical plans against those who have wronged us, hence, the site Make Him Pay. The celebrity page is pretty funny too. Go on, have a look.

Here are some other ideas to get you started while you’re forming your own craftily- planned act of retribution.

1) Skin him alive and hang him over a metal rod to dry. (If this is too Ted Bundy-ish for you, just tie him to metal rod and watch him squirm.)

2) Spray paint his car with obscene words and video tape his reaction when he finds it. Then, his reaction can be viewed multiple times from your own home in slow motion. Grab some popcorn and have fun with it!

3) Kidnap and drug your ex. Then, put him in a lovely festive costume and place a red flag in his hand. Next, sell tickets to the event to all your friends, so they can see him wake up from his drug –induced coma with a bull or other large animal breathing down his neck. This is a fun event for all ages! Plus, you’ve just profited from his misery.

4) Ask your ex if you can come over to collect some of your things. When he’s at the top of the stairs, give him a big push. If you can manage to avoid doing prison time and paying all his hospital bills then, you, my friend, have succeeded.

5) See a voodoo practitioner. Make wax dolls, do spells, and give’em hell. He’ll wish he’d never met you!

Monday, January 15, 2007


So, what was I actually doing on Sunday? Readers, you guessed it, I was watching my favorite lesbians on T.V. See the promo shot for the third season of this thrilling Showtime series below:

The show airs at 9pm from now until the middle of April. This show is my one pop culture indulgence, and I watch it religiously. The first season of The L Word started in 2004 and was unlike anything on television before. The show centers on a beautiful cast of women with fabulous careers who live in L.A. The show documents the lives of these young women as they discover themselves through their relationships with other women. (Not all the characters on the show are lesbians, some are bisexual, Trans- gendered, all colors of the rainbow are represented.) See below the beginning credits from the show:

Sexy, eh?

As one can imagine the show attracts a wide variety of viewers from the “foaming at the mouth because I love lesbians” straight-boys to the gayest of the gay, the L Word has a lot of appeal for many reasons. I, personally, wouldn’t mind being a high-powered lesbian who lives in L.A. with a gang of hot friends. What a life!

The show’s time line, oddly enough, moved right along with my own blossoming sexuality. During 2004, I began a series of intense relationships (both friendships and romantic) with other lesbian women. At the time, I was strictly involved with women only and was not considering romantic relationships with men. Although women are preferred, occasionally now I will date men too. During the course of my sexual self-discovery, the question of identity and sexuality plagued me indefinitely.

Is sexuality just part of our identity? Or does our sexuality define our identity? Among those who follow social norms, gender roles, and tradition I believe it does. For example, what would happen to good ol’ Bob down the street who has 3 kids, a wife, and respectable job if he was outed publicly against his will? Does his identity cave in? Does he form new identity as a result of being forced “out of the closet?” Does he then form a “new” identity within the gay community? Interesting questions indeed.

Bisexuals, on the other hand, straddle the middle line. Since we are neither gay or straight, the task of forming a strong identity can be daunting. It reminds me of a song by Suzanne Vega called “Left of Center” where she states: “If you want me, you can find me, left of center, off of the strip.”

There are advantages to living on the fringes as the view sure is nice from the outside. From here, you can see almost everyone-I mean, everything, as a potential possibility. But as a good friend of mine would say, “Come on Sally S, now isn’t the time to be gettin’ greedy on me.” Although I relish the display, I’d better keep my hands to myself.

Friday, January 12, 2007

Hey Boys, Your Female Property is in Scarce Supply


Dear China,

Due to your sex-selective abortion policies regarding the female gender, you now face a potentially destructive social consequence. Since you have been engaged in the practice of instituting governmental policies to degrade women and their female children, you now are experiencing a shortage of “marriage material” for your thirty-some million men. I regret to inform you that a mandatory government-sponsored homosexuality program must be enforced in these “female deprived” areas. In order to succeed at this endeavor, the rules and regulations set forth here must be followed.

1) All men must sign a life-time commitment to confirm their newly administered government-granted sexuality.

2) Approximately ½ of the 30 billion of “marriageable men” must be socialized within the framework of the “female arts” such as sewing, cooking, and cleaning. These men will abandon their career objectives and all educational pursuits henceforth.

3) The other 15 billion may continue on with their studies, however, any type of interaction with the female population is strictly forbidden. Law breakers will be subject to a lengthy and brutal public flogging.

4) Any grown men who are unwilling to conform to our version of utopia will be forcibly aborted on sight.

I’m certain we can eradicate this “shortage” of female property with the plan I’ve devised. Please consider my proposal as a serious resolution to the aforementioned “gender imbalance.”

Yours Truly,

Ms. Sally Sunshine

Thursday, January 11, 2007


SEN. MIKULSKI (D-MD): "This is a reckless plan - it is about saving the Bush presidency, not about saving Iraq."

Readers, last night the nation watched the President give a very unconvincing speech about “MOVING FORWARD” in Iraq. This was very distressing on many different levels. Is the American public (i.e. the sleeping mass) finally beginning to understand how wrong this war is? Personally, I am tired of this President’s MASSIVE EGO and attempts to validate himself on the world stage. People are dying and suffering tremendously, personally and collectively, due to this administration’s ignorance and ego needs. It’s time to move on, 2008 can’t come fast enough. See below a great article about the President’s speech:

A Crisis of Confidence

By Howard Fineman

Jan. 10, 2007 - George W. Bush spoke with all the confidence of a perp in a police lineup. I first interviewed the guy in 1987 and began covering his political rise in 1993, and I have never seen him, in public or private, look less convincing, less sure of himself, less cocky. With his knitted brow and stricken features, he looked, well, scared. Not surprising since what he was doing in the White House library was announcing the escalation of an unpopular war.

The president may well be right that we cannot afford to leave or lose in Iraq . He makes profound sense when he observes that a collapse of Iraq would mean the rise of a giant version of the Taliban's Afghanistan—with a million times the oil in the ground.

But if he was trying to assure the country that he had confidence in his own plan to prevent that collapse, well, a picture is worth a thousand words. And the words themselves weren't that assuring either. Does anyone in America or Iraq , or anywhere else in the world for that matter, really think that the Sunnis and Shia will make peace? Does anyone think that embedded American soldiers won't be in danger of being fragged by their own Iraqi brethren? Does anyone really think that Iran and Syria can be prevented from playing havoc in Iraq and the rest of the region by expressions of presidential will?

George Bush had the look of a man who knew he had made a royal hash of things in reaching for what most enlightened people would say was a noble goal: a stable, antiterrorist Iraq.

In his televised address about Iraq, the president used the book-lined backdrop of the library in the White House to evoke the midwar FDR. This was supposed to be the kind of matter-of-fact, detail-filled radio address that the Old Man gave each week through the course of the last Good War.

Problem was, Bush had long since forfeited the political credibility that FDR was able to maintain through his presidency. Roosevelt made huge mistakes, and the rules of the times allowed him to hold back much information. But the public believed him in his role as a leader of the Western World. Luckily for Roosevelt, he was on the radio for the most part.

Bush's political problem is not so much that he has lied to the American people—though he may well have done so—but that he seems for years to have been lying to himself.

What the voters saw on TV just now was a man struggling to come to grips with his own unwillingness to face facts. It's still a struggle. His acknowledgement of mistakes was oblique and not as brave as it sounded at first blush. Mistakes were made, and he said. "The responsibility rests with me," he said. What he meant to convey was that others had made the mistakes, but that he was stepped up to take the hit. Hoo-aw! He said that he had "consulted" congressional leaders of both parties before he came to a decision on sending more than 20,000 additional troops. He didn't really consult with members of Congress, and certainly not with Democrats, unless you consider Sen. Joe Lieberman a Democrat.

Forty years ago, another president from Texas escalated an unpopular war. A famous Washington columnist, James Reston, described Lyndon Johnson's leadership as "war by tantrum." This Texas president doesn't operate through tantrums, and this wasn't a tantrum. This is an expression of grim determination, based on a moral vision, a worthy if perhaps unrealistic goal, and a fierce hatred of being branded a loser. I could tell you lots of stories about just how much Bush hates to lose, and always has.

The president's chances of success, such as they are, now rest with the reasonableness and details of his plan. Will it work? His says that his generals "report" that it will. Do the American people believe that it will?
I'm not sure that they are really listening, but if they were watching, they can't have been reassured by the man they saw in the basement of the White House.

By Howard Fineman, Newsweek


Senator Kennedy has proposed legislation to reclaim the people’s right to a full voice in the president’s plan to send more troops to Iraq. His bill will say that no additional troops can be sent and no additional dollars can be spent on such an escalation unless and until Congress approves the president’s plan.
Add your name to the petition in support of Senator Kennedy's legislation

AND LASTLY, I LEAVE YOU WITH SOME VERY FITTING LYRICS FOR THE MOOD OF THE MOMENT BY THE ARTIST BECK. REMEMBER GEORGE BUSH SENIOR’S VOICE OVER IN THE SONG "LOSER" WHEN HE TELLS THE WORLD: “I'm a driver, I’m a winner; things are going to change I can feel it?" How ironic, we seem to be hearing the same thing from his son but sooner or later he will be forced to face his failure and the consequences.


In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey
Butane in my veins and I’m out to cut the junkie
With the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables
Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose
Kill the headlights and put it in neutral
Stock car flaming' with a loser and the cruise control
Baby's in Reno with the vitamin d
Got a couple of couches, sleep on the love-seat
Someone came in saying' I’m insane to complain
About a shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt
Don't believe everything that you breathe
You get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleeve
So shave your face with some mace in the dark
Saving' all your food stamps and burning' down the trailer park

Yo. cut it

Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?

Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?

Forces of evil on a bozo nightmare
Ban all the music with a phony gas chamber
'Cuz one's got a weasel and the other's got a flag
One's on the pole, shove the other in a bag
With the rerun shows and the cocaine nose-job
The daytime crap of the folksinger slob
He hung himself with a guitar string
A slab of turkey-neck and it's hanging' from a pigeon wing
You can't write if you can't relate
Trade the cash for the beef for the body for the hate
And my time is a piece of wax falling' on a termite
Who's choking' on the splinters

Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?

(I'm a driver, I’m a winner; things are going to change I can feel it)

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

The Executioner's Hood and the Boys in the Woods

Our Human Frailty is Observed:

I ran through the woods in an invisible cloak of amour. The leaves on the ground crunched menacingly beneath me. The air was cold and the trees were red and yellow, angry and bruised under the guise of another season’s passing. Animals roamed through the woods, stuck in their maze of indifference while the executioners fired shots. Standing erect with their black hoods, the snipers had full control. As the bullets whizzed past my head, I suddenly realized why I felt so close to death.

I had this dream two nights ago. Anyone who says the personal unconscious is not connected to the collective unconscious is denying the affect of world events and living in a little encapsulated bubble. The world has problems, yo, and if we’re not at least recognizing this, then we should start digging our graves now.

Recently, the whole world saw parts of Saddam Hussein’s very public execution. The death video has prompted an outflow of compassion especially among the world’s Muslim population. Witness as a former “cruel dictator” is made into a martyr. Now, I’m not saying whether this is right or wrong. The circumstances surrounding his death, and indeed this whole fucked up world are nebulous, confusing, contradictory, and full of metaphor if you can reach out and grab it. However, I think we can all agree, execution by hanging in the public square is downright medieval. If this is what we have regressed to as a people, we are in serious trouble.

It is an obvious fact that children copy what they see in the adult world. Children, psychically, are presumed to be more vulnerable than adults to collective forces because issues like “psychic flooding” and the “unconscious” are not acceptable concepts in an adult materially-orientated world. This, however, does not mean that world events aren’t affecting ALL of us on a deeper level, they are, and we cannot afford to pretend to be disconnected from this anymore. Our children, through their actions, are telling us witnessing a hanging on public television is not kosher.

I have been an outspoken critic of the death penalty for years, but in this situation no explanation is need, it’s clearly refuted in the actions of our children. See a story below published by the Associated Press regarding a child’s interpretation of the events surrounding Saddam’s death:

Turkish boy's kin: Hanging copied Saddam

By SUZAN FRASER, Associated Press Writer

ANKARA, Turkey - A 12-year-old died by hanging himself from the ceiling of his home, a hospital said Wednesday, and family members said the boy was copying Saddam Hussein’s execution.

It was the second death of a youngster blamed on televised images of the deposed Iraqi dictator's Dec. 30 execution. 30. A 10-year-old boy in Houston died Sunday by hanging himself from a bunk bed after watching news reports of the execution.
A hospital official in the southeastern province of Mus said Alisen Akti was dead on arrival at a hospital. The boy died of asphyxiation after apparently hanging himself, the official said, speaking on condition of anonymity because she was not authorized to speak to journalists.

Radikal newspaper quoted the boy's father as saying that the youngster had been affected by television images of Saddam's execution.

"What kind of a problem could a 12-year-old have to want to kill himself?" Radikal quoted Esat Akti as saying.

"After watching Saddam's execution he was constantly asking 'How was Saddam killed?' and 'Did he suffer?'" Akti said. "These television images are responsible for my son's death."

The family could not be reached at their home in the village of Sutluce. No one was available at the paramilitary police headquarters, which is responsible for the area.

By SUZAN FRASER, Associated Press Writer

Stop the World- The Clash

The panorama of the city is wrong
in fact the city seems to be gone
burning rubber and smoke in my eyes
there's a flat burning junk heap
for twenty square miles
they took it into the nuclear mine
judging by this, they left nothing behind
down in the bunkers in the crust of the earth
now crouch the wealthy and the noble of birth

if I could a ride a train around the city
that holds this as our fate
I’d hide from electro-circuit central
to the shock inducer gate
not forgetting the by-pass
across the Washington hooks
through the phones and desks and screens
of the Kremlin’s crook of crooks

there's some panel in a circuit board
destination of the override
scanning the wild wind
blowing through the Berlin corridor
spotlight in a palace, shielded from dust
malfunction or not, the failsafe is the crux
so far away from us,
shaking with the mystery tears
one lonely night in Ladbroke grove
far away in the deserts of Omaha
they got it nailed down-Swiss tight
the bank notes of Europe
the emperors and kings
curl in the autumn as the burning of leaves
and I’ve cleaned my black guitar

Monday, January 08, 2007

Pulling Back a Dream

As we begin to uncover the layers of who we are, some strange happenings often occur. This weekend, being true to form, was sort of a montage of strange experiences bundled into a few days. For example, on Saturday I ended up on the kitchen floor throwing a tantrum like a little girl. You may ask, what nearly brought me to my knees and into the fetal position on Saturday night? Readers, I stubbed my baby toe. Now, this wasn’t an ordinary toe stubbing, no, this shocking blitz of pain entered through my baby toe and went up my leg and down the other side. This unprecedented throbbing throughout my foot gradually turned into a great big bruise with a large array of colors represented. I’ve got blue, I’ve got pink, purple, green, and variations of each. One could paint a masterpiece from the color palette on my foot.

However, this shock wave of pain did not deter me from participating in the weekend’s festivities, and like a trooper I soldiered on in my black stiletto boots. The night began with random frou frou shots administered by a lovely bar wench, in full wench gear. With the liquor flowing, the pain in my foot gradually diminished. Naturally, at this point the dance floor was calling my name. I hit the floor with vigor, oblivious to the throbbing in my shoe. I should’ve known it wouldn’t be long before a sexy-mamma diva threw me against a wall and had her way with me. Yet, I was surprised when it happened, as we were not in gay-friendly establishment and she was quite forceful.

At the end of the night she asked me to leave with her. I was puzzled. Does this really happen in straight venues? Her boldness was stunning, and in that moment, I thought, “Why the hell not?” Other detailed events ensued shortly after, but dear readers, this is not a XXX-rated porn blog site, so I’ll leave my observations to myself.

Eventually, I fell asleep with my head on her stomach, sighing deeply and wondering how this would fit into reality as the sun was coming up. I drifted in and out of sleep for awhile and finally woke up as the sun’s rays burned through my basement window. I rolled over and reached for her, but my bed was empty. I looked over at the floor and there were no signs she had ever been there.

Next time, I’ll know not confuse reality with a dream because morphine will do that to you while you sleep

Friday, January 05, 2007

Breathe Deep Sedna

On November 14th, 2003, Sedna, a trans-Neptunian object, was discovered by astronomers, Michael Brown (Caltech), Chad Trujillo (Gemini Observatory) and David Rabinowitz (Yale University) At the time of its discovery it was the most distant observed natural solar system body. This planetary object, called Sedna, for the Inuit Goddess of the Ocean, is 8 billion miles away, in the farthest reaches of the solar system. See the Wiki entry regarding Sedna’s discovery. The map below shows the relative size and distance of Sedna as compared to the Earth.

Every once in awhile myth, astrology, and science join together to produce a paradigm that really makes sense. If we can forge the connection through the confusion, there are magnificent realizations in store for us.

For example, what significance does the name “Sedna” hold? These names astronomers choose for new planetary objects are no accident, as language is often a metaphor for the world we live in. Thus, the discovery of Sedna is not only scientifically relevant, but also important when considering mythology as well. For a novice astrologer like myself myths and archetypes are the symbols/images I use in practice. Witness as the Great Goddess inhales through the waves:

The Legend of Sedna

Beside the arctic ocean, there once lived an old widower and his daughter, Sedna, a woman so beautiful that all the Eskimo men sought to live with her. But she found none to her liking and refused all offers. One day, a seabird came to her and promised her a soft life in a warm hut full of bearskins and fish. Sedna flew away with him.

The bird had lied. Sedna found her home a stinking nest. She sat, sadly regretting her rejection of the handsome human men. And that was what she told her father, when she listed her complaints when he visited her a year later.

Anguta ("man with something to cut") put his daughter in his kayak to bring her back to the human world. Perhaps he killed the bird husband first, perhaps he just stole the bird's wife, but in either case the vengeance of the bird people followed him. The rising sea threatened the escaping humans with death. On they struggled, until Anguta realized that flight was hopeless.

He shoved Sedna overboard to drown. Desperate for life, she grabbed the kayak with a fierce grip. Her father cut off her fingers. When Sedna's fingers fell into the water, the fingers became whales, seals and polar bears, her nails became whalebone.

Next, She flung her mutilated arms over the skin boat's sides. Anguta cut them off, shoving his oar into Sedna's eye before she sank into the icy water.

Sedna is Mother of the Oceans and ruler over all life in the Sea. The blessings of Sedna are still sought by the people of the North who know it is She who sustains them.At the bottom of the sea, she lived thereafter as queen of the deep, mistress of death and life, " the old food dish," who provided for the people.

Here is my own personal interpretation of this Goddess inspired by The Legend of Sedna:

When we find structure and safety in our lives we cling like children to the false hope that our parents or some other “authority” (the church, education, a certain philosophy) will save us. We ask them, plead with them, beg them to save us from the storm.

But behind the choices we’ve made lies the mask of fate. The father in this story realizes he cannot save his daughter, he can only save himself. This story touches on the victim/rescuer themes inherent in the Piscean personality and lends to the old saying, “what nourishes me destroys me.”

The Sedna myth teaches us to give what we don’t have, to breathe deep under water, to reconcile opposites, to live with the paradox, to love others even if it’s dangerous, and to let go of another’s hands while plummeting into the depth. This is what I like to call, “learning by throwing one’s self into the fire”, to warm up to life even though we’ve lived in the ice, to face with certainty our ultimate destiny.

These are the lessons Sedna imposes upon us. We can let go of the life raft ourselves or be forced to the bottom through what seems to be cruel fate. All these self-imposed abductions serve a purpose. They exist so that we may emerge strong with the fuel to feed others, to find abundance in the emptiness. It’s a journey each of us must make, in order to, “dig ourselves out of that hole”.

But first during the process, the ego must be dissolved so we can begin like babies do and start to crawl. After we learn our lesson on the floor (i.e. the ocean floor) we are free to surface. Our personalities grow strong as we’ve learned to live at an essential basic level.

In place of the arms that were once amputated we now sprout wings and raise ourselves out of the sea. And this friends, is transformation at its finest. The ocean calls each one of us down and we go, but from our frightened eyes, we are born into a new faith in life. We give birth to ourselves in that ocean, and in the end, we return to it like children to go home; it is the pattern we adhere to.

Sedna, The Bone Woman: Another Interpretation of the Myth

One writer talks about her experience in relation to the Sedna Goddess archetype in the paragraph below:

“Sedna evolved through sacrifice and suffering. She created of Her very being, her hands and her fingers, what was needed by the community - the food to sustain the lives of her people. For myself, lifting veils of denial provided me with the self-acceptance that grants new freedom. Sedna's double-sided mask, half-skeleton and half-human, gives her the aspect of resurrection.” Sedna did not lose Her capacity to participate in life. Instead, She transformed.”

This is a very Christ-like attitude and finds its imagery in the Christian myth. Oddly enough, the traditional “Christan” qualities of suffering for the greater whole, feeding/nourishing others, grace through servitude ect.. are all attributes commonly associated with women in our society, which may explain why the “Mary” influence is in many traditional Christian churches is so prevalent. For example, Notre Dame (a church located in Paris) means “Our Lady” in English. When visiting Notre Dame, I felt this vibe strongly firsthand. The feminine face of God is alive and well here.

Obviously, I first discovered the Sedna myth through astrology. However, the other day I heard this hauntingly beautiful song and realized it was an invocation, a celebration of the goddess who inhales with waves. Readers, if you are able to download music, I would recommend it, it’s a great song.

16 Bit Lolitas vs. Motorcycle - Deep Breath Sedna (Dave Dresden Mashup)

One by one a soul searches for a connection
It's a just heartbeat between love and rejection
Can you taste it in the air, how I want to be there
Take a deep breath love, and dive in

Do you remember once in a while what makes you smile
Cause nothing has to be the same
Let me take the pain out of your veins
Let me hear your soul
Let me take control
It's always darkest before the dawn

Sometimes I feel I want to run all night
Run all night until the morning light
All I know is that I want to run with you

Sometimes I feel I want to run all night
Run all night until the morning light
All I know is that I want to run with you

Take a deep breath love
Take a deep breath love
Take a deep breath love

And dive in

"To love, we touch the not-so-lovely bony woman, untangling the sense of this (life/death/life) nature for ourselves…It is not enough to haul the unconcious to the surface, not even enough to accidentally drag her home. Untangling the mystery of the Skeleton Woman begins to break the spell — that is, the fear that one will be consumed, made dead forever." Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Thursday, January 04, 2007

A Public Service Announcement: Lock it Up Girls

The fashion industry clearly has a hidden agenda against American women. In 2006, the “supposedly fashionable” bamboozled us with their shock and awe campaign. Layers and layers of ugliness were passed down from previous generations and brought back with a vengeance. Trite over-done trends from 2005 endured on clearance racks around the country, and like Joan Rivers with her plastic surgeon, we fully participated and gave our approval during this siege of ugliness. I, myself, was not exempt from the wave of repulsiveness. I also bought the skinny jeans, big jewelry, boho skirts, and hideously large belts. God save me! I need some retail therapy. But I must stay away from these institutions of bad style (i.e. malls).
Girls, do not let these fancy-ass designers fool you. These trends are completely inappropriate for the average woman and look just plain ridiculous on the majority of us. Save your money, or invest wisely, but for god’s sake, avoid the mall at all costs!
Here are some of THEE most offensive fashion trends from the last few years. I shudder when I remember. Ugh.

1) Wide Waist Belts

A personal gross-out favorite of mine, these belts draw attention to the most conspicuous part of body, the midsection. Wide Waist belts are extremely offensive on women who have hips or breasts. Emancipated little boy bodies need only apply here.

2) Baby Doll Dresses

These dresses were obviously created for child molesters. Grown women in infantile clothing is never a good idea.

3) Skinny Jeans/Pants

The most uncomfortable pants imaginable paired with the most hideously strategically placed heels make for a terrible combination. Pear-shaped women look as if they’ve been forced into what is possibly the most rancid jean ever: The Mom Jean.

4) Horrendously Large Hand-Bags

If one’s hand bag is bigger than one’s head, I propose a day should be reserved simply for throwing shit out. Bigger isn’t always better, clean out the purses ladies and downsize!

5) Ugg Boots

True to their name, ugly boots do not make the woman. On little stick thin legs, they make us look like we have huge polar bear feet and severely distort the rest of the body.

6) Boho Skirts

These circa 1960 skirts do nothing for us ladies. They are dumpy, frumy, and lumpy. Leave the table cloth at home.

7) Chunky Accessory Overload

Whoa Fergie- lock it up girl! This is an example of why all movie stars should fire their overpaid stylists. Trendy McTrenderson take a break from it.

Finally, this last picture sort of brings it all together. All gross-out trends have been melded together here to form one dreadful combination of fashion faux pas piled on top of one another.

Let’s all raise our glasses to the hope that in 07’ we see some improvement. Designers beware, we’re on to ya.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Make Me Feel (Like a Natural Woman)

What constitutes greatness in the sack? How does one judge the level of greatness achieved? Where does one pick up this training manual? The problem with this question is that it is largely subjective. What I consider to be an exquisitely beautiful experience might be considered horrendous to another. For me, it comes to versatility and openness in both mind and body. I’ve been with both men and women who are stunning, yet their sexuality exists on the surface as they are quite out of touch with viewing their body as an instrument of pleasure. At the same time, I’ve been intimate with men/women who aren’t supermodel material, but sure know how to make a girl swoon. Little weak-kneed me, I’m such a sucker for the slow seduction.

Regardless of all the great information out there to help men (or women, depending on your preference!) love women better, there is still a large gap between what women want and what we get sexually, and that’s a damn shame.

The article below was found on and is supposed to be a general guide to increasing women’s pleasure in the bedroom. See my thoughts and random digressions in parenthesis. ()

Simple Things That Give Women Pleasure
By The Player
Pickup Specialist
(Note this article was written by a guy called “The Player”- I’m thinking this going to be about as high quality as 2LiveCrew song)

Who would you go to for sex advice? Dr. Ruth, the yoda-like love-master who makes the thought of having sex about as fun as putting a puzzle together (hey guys, sometimes pleasing a woman is hard work- don’t get lazy on me now!); or the real sex experts -those Players who you rarely hear from because they're too busy making love to fashion models, co-workers, girls next door, and their girlfriend's best friend. (Yeah, because we all know quantity is the only factor needed to guarantee quality.)

These are the All-Star Pros (is this a sporting event? I’m sorry, I thought we were talking about pleasing women, not the “guys with their fat beer guts hanging over their jeans talk about sex” convention) that most men should be asking for sex advice. Let me put it this way: For a football coach, would you rather get the volunteer high school gym teacher, or John Elway? Do you get my point? (Not really, the football metaphors are quite tiresome, let’s move on.) The best way to become a great lover is to mimic what great lovers do. (At this point, the author may be indicating he has a seriously troublesome voyeurism addiction. Or maybe Ron Jeremy has just been a very effective role model/mentor in the development of his formidable authority on all matters sexual.)

#1-talk to god
We have to admit that the way a man looks has a lot to do with his chances of sleeping with a lot of women. (Is this an article covering how to please many women simultaneously or just one at a time? Because frankly Mr. Player, I think I’ve probably given women more orgasms than you have.) But what really counts is how good he can use his tools to give her the ultimate orgasm. (I hear cavemen had excellent tools, maybe you can borrow some from one of your fellow cave inhabitants.) If you can make her talk to God ( "Oh God! Oh God!" ), then chances are that she'll be begging you for more sex than you can handle. (Chances are if she’s saying, “Oh God, Oh God, you’ve just met a really great faker- congratulations Player- fake orgasms cum- I mean come- a dime a dozen.)

Most Players will admit that they were not born as female magnets, but learned the ropes through observation and practice. (A couple of STD’s and this guy's a regular Buddha!) Once a Player is reputed for being a good lover, women fall at his feet trying to get a taste of sensual pleasures. (Once a player clears up that pesky gonorrhea, of course.)

#2-the key is observation
Much like myself, most good lovers share four common traits. The first thing they do is size up a woman's body through massage (size up? Nice, I think next Mr. Player should whip out the merchandise so we can size him up.); the second thing involves asking the woman what pleases her most (yes, because most one-night stands have reached this level of intimacy in the 30 minutes Player would’ve known his lady) ; the third consists of observing what stimuli she responds to through adult movies( Ron Jeremy- I knew it! Pop on those pornos big daddy! ); and the final thing that good lovers do is observe a woman's scale of arousal. (I’m sure after Mr. Player’s well-orchestrated porn-induced seduction all the ladies are revved up and ready to go!)

• Begin with a massage (this is so cheesy!- Women are so not impressed with this obviously lame attempt to touch us with their greasy little fingers!)
Each woman reacts differently to various stimuli. The sensations that a woman can experience from a man's touch will always vary. By massaging her whole body and observing her reactions, her sensitive areas will be unveiled, allowing for more pleasurable relations. (Hey you big bore, stop annoying me with your big ol’ boring sexual mechanics- we’re not robots!)

What women usually like while being massaged, are soft licks and touches in sensitive areas like the back of her neck and behind the ears, (um, hello, LICKS are not appropriate during a massage, are you an actual dog Player?) where the skin is very soft. The next time you give a woman a massage, add some variety and instead of simply rubbing her. Lightly run the tip of your fingers and tongue over the insides of her elbows, back of her knees, over her wrists, her nipples and between her thighs. (Doesn’t his nasty germ infested tongue between one’s thighs sound simply divine?!)

• Ask her what she likes
There are millions of sex experts in the world, but the best ones usually don't have a Ph.D. They're called "Women", and they're a lot more interesting to talk to than your average sexologist. (Does the listening start before or after the “sizing up?”) Women experiment with their own bodies; they are more in tune with what satisfies and gratifies them. (Yeah, so what do we need you for again?) So the next time you're not sure if she's enjoying the experience, ask her what she likes instead.

• Watch adult movies
I'm not talking about adult movies that degrade women and are made for men, but rather movies made by lesbians for lesbians. (Ok, this where I draw the line, this guy is obviously insane.) During the act of lovemaking, women constantly look at each other's expressions to measure their level of enjoyment. (Yes, two lesbians or bisexuals may do this, but unless this guy only engages in threesomes, how, in god’s name, does this help the singular woman he is having sex with? I can’t imagine the woman in his bedroom will be exchanging sexy glances with an image on a TV, unless she's just so completely bored with his lovemaking abilities she can't help herself.)

Do the same by paying attention to what a woman fancies. When you touch her in a way that she likes, keep doing it. Most men make the mistake of doing it too hard or too fast. Turn it up a notch only if she pushes her body against you, or if she moans the words "faster" or "harder”. (All the porn movie cues have really warped this guy’s mind!)

• Observe her arousal scale
Good sex occurs when partners on the same sexual wavelength. Not only is every woman different, but even the same woman is different from day to day. One day she may want it fast and hard, while the next day may require a more slow and soft approach. Therefore, you have to know what wave she is riding to make the experience pleasurable.

Take your cue from the way a woman flirts with you. If she's acting sensual, and caresses you gently, then you have to start slow and maintain a soft and romantic mood. However, if she comes on strong, then she probably wants crazy cat-like sex. (Date Rape, anyone? This guy is too much!)

Great lovers don't memorize complicated techniques; they master the simple things that give women pleasure. How do they know what makes their woman go crazy and fantasize about them? Good lovers open their eyes and observe, observe, observe; and when they're unsure, they simply ask. (Disclaimer: It may be hard to hear an actual woman’s response over the loud lesbian porn being broadcasted from Player’s TV.)

Please, Player, do us all a favor and join the priesthood.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Let’s Get This Junk Show Started

Happy New Year Y’ALL!

I’ve just returned from the lovely city of Austin, Texas. What a junk show! Men, Men & More Men! Now, that’s the way to start the New Year. Forget resolutions and well-intended attempts to reform my wicked ways, I’m back in the saddle baby! Ok, that’s enough Wild West metaphors, lock it up Nat!

On my New Years’ night I experienced the following:

1) Trendy, ultra-hot clubbing with my sis at Vicci
2) Good Karma: my purse was returned, after it was stolen of course
3) And a standard threesome invitation (WTF! I can’t escape these!)

Anyway, cowpokes, I missed you all terribly, it’s good to be home.

Here’s to 2007! Let’s make it a good one!