Cuckservative Naples, Florida

First I read this article: Refugee From Cuckservatism

Then I went to Whole Foods in order to purchase a few things I needed. The Whole Foods around here happens to be near a popular cigar bar. As I drove, I wondered, ‘How many liberal women shop at Whole Foods, and then indulge in the guilty pleasure of catching a glance at the patrons at that bar?’

Could be worthy of a hidden camera to count them.

Inside the requisite Whole Foods cafe, where I enjoyed a beverage (aloe juice, if you must know), I spied a local advertising circular named, Naples Florida Weekly: In the Know. In the Now

(week of July 30-August 5, 2015)

I picked it up, and noticed that it was, “The Man Issue.” Perfect timing.

I decided to head over to the cigar bar and have a nice candela while reading it.

Here are a few choice quotes:

It helps that many of this week’s stories are written by women, who often know better than men what’s good for them.

Hmmmm. What to buy of course. That’s the whole point of this newspaper.

I’m glad that the author used the word, “often,” albeit in this context I might have said “sometimes.” After all, it was largely women who demanded that men give up hanging out with other men, smoking, saturated fat, cholesterol, red meat, protectiveness, and so on.

Here’s some of the quotes from the women who wrote for this issue:

In a welcome display of moral courage, the Republican governor of South Carolina, Nikki Haley, said it was time to retire this painful symbol of slavery and racial hatred. Her leadership fortified the courage of those refusing in the past to comply, the grace of the victims’ families shaming most of the holdouts into getting right with God.

Compliance is courage.

There can be no genuine racial reconciliation between blacks and whites without white acceptance of this historical truth.

Accept my version of history, truth, and God. Amen.

Then there was this gem of an article, “A woman’s view of a man’s man.”

It was painful to read. The gist of the article was that men who actually do stuff don’t pay Ms. Snowflake enough attention. Pout! Whereas the “man’s man” she prefers today is one who is

…the kind who hires somebody else to fix his house or repair his car. This type of man is seductive, too, and he always makes time for me. Plus, he never has grease on his hands.

Pay attention to me me me and buy me stuff stuff stuff!

First on the agenda, Honey, remodel the house (that’s the bulk of the advertising), and hire somebody hot for me who will do whatever I want. Run along, Honey. Go golf or something. Don’t you worry about a thing. He’ll be busy doing stuff and besides his hands will be greasy as he assembles my new flakeboard cabinets.

I threw down the paper and just then, one of my favorite songs played.

Back to the first article:

Then, as predictable as the sunrise, the old guard of the right wing emerged, and the denials began. The flag, they said, was about heritage, not hatred —but history proves them wrong.

You’re certain about that, right? Those old tired “guard” men of the right wing didn’t give Ms. Snowflake what she wants? How horrible. Poor poor Ms. Snowflake!

Texas is leading other states dominated by conservatives into this fictional morass. It has adopted standards for textbooks that promulgate a historically inaccurate account of the origins of the Civil War, downplaying slavery as its principle cause.

Oh no! Bad bad conservatives! Shame on you!

Reminded me of something I saw engraved at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C.:

My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or to destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone I would also do that. What I do about slavery, and the colored race, I do because I believe it helps to save the Union; and what I forbear, I forbear because I do not believe it would help to save the Union. I shall do less whenever I shall believe what I am doing hurts the cause, and I shall do more whenever I shall believe doing more will help the cause.

–The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln edited by Roy P. Basler, Volume V, “Letter to Horace Greeley” (August 22, 1862), p. 388.

Conservative men of Naples, Florida, if you don’t want me to laugh at you, please give your women something else to do.

Wordsmiths, Engineers, Mathematicians, and Artists

Inspired by:

The First Rule of White Club

It would seem to me that the word, “intellectual” has become synonymous with “academic”.

There are certain laws of nature however that individuals of each of these disciplines either fail to grasp deliberately or are merely brainwashed and delusional. How to tell? Mere language alone? Or would a polygraph or hypnotherapist reveal the truth?

Are good intentions sufficient justification to engage in evil? How does one tell for certain?

Semantic wars as to which demographic is more evil, have started to escalate. Is it Whites, Blacks, Asians, Semites, Indios, Aryans, etc., etc.? Or is it Christians, Jews, Muslims, Confucians, etc.? Are fortune tellers evil while religious scholars virtuous? Do genes reveal all answers or is it microbes, viruses, “good” and “bad” bacteria, or mitochondria?

Are there different kinds of Jews? Are there different kinds of Whites? Are there different kinds of Blacks? Are Semites of a one mind?

Is Edgar Allen Poe a genius or a hack? How about Ta-Nehisi Coates?

Perhaps Planned Parenthood has had a monopoly on fetus trafficking for too long.

As for Pro-Lifers, I’ve no doubt that most of them are good intentioned.

Poor Whites who live and work near poor Blacks are not all racists. Some of them are merely good at math.

Is to be good at math evil? Or stupid?

What does the Mighty Wurlitzer have to say?

This message is for the fathers of daughters. It might have seemed like a great idea to persuade your un-marriageable daughter to pursue a career, when you personally were incapable of providing a dowry of sufficient value to counteract her less-than-appealing qualities. Perhaps she inherited those less-than-appealing qualities from your wife. I’m sure that the two of you, deciding to have more children that you could personally afford and thereby intended to rely on government to educate and protect them, were of the very best of intentions.

Therefore, no one could possibly say that it is your fault if your daughter ends up degraded, destroyed, or perhaps even eaten alive. Or even if she turns around and eats you.

As for your son? Well? Whose fault is that?

It is certainly not your fault that you are either bad at math or have allowed yourself to be hypnotized by an artist.

But please, spare me from your condescension and notions that you are of superior intelligence.

The Trophy Collector

I have a bad habit of attracting trophy collectors into my life. In the past, I’ve been proud to be a trophy, albeit, I prefer to be part of the collection of a man, a “real man,” such as I define it and continue to adjust such a sacred concept in my own mind.

In the BDSM world, one of the more glamorous trophies is a pony girl. The equipment can easily amount to a small fortune. Such a creature, when displayed in public, brings great pride to her owner, who, may easily degrade into the sort of person who uses her to make other men jealous of his wealth and possessions. Just as easily she may be a royal narcissist herself and take to catfighting when she notes that some other pony has a prettier collar or is younger.

Giving a precious little pet everything her little heart desires is a form of abuse.

Even if what precious little pet desires is to be abused or to collect trophies herself.

It is a difficult concept for the casual observer to note on one hand, trophies and finery, and shackles and chains on the other. in the scheme of things however, there’s not a lot of difference. Obsession or lack thereof is probably key.

I think it is important for a pet, slave, ragdoll, fuck puppet, etc., to be able to show appreciation for all the energy required to keep her (or him) in props, orgasms, jewels, or pets of her own—whatever works—the chance to display that appreciation is also a privilege.

For a trophy, self-maintenance becomes that service.

(I have got to get myself back to the gym.)

Meanwhile, it would seem that many of the sort of trophy collectors being drawn to me these days are female. Many hold out inducements to that relationship such as security, empowerment, money, sex, along with the implication of acceptance and love. Some of them send their men to me in order to draw me into their pyramids so that I, in my misery, can be drained of blood and then mounted on the wall for all visitors to admire.

“Such a lovely widow she was. Too bad she doesn’t like to starve, imprison, and abuse men [and women] herself using love as an inducement. Stupid woman.”

Insecurity, weakness, poverty, and celibacy are looking better and better to me all the time. Meanwhile, a part of me wants to be simply thrown into the dungeon with the wolves. I like them better than cats. For I am a dog, bird, spider, or goat—whatever I need to be—in order to earn the love and appreciation of whoever is brave enough to trust a chameleon.

Age of Pisces vs. Age of Aquarius

It surprised and delighted me to learn that there is not a universal consensus with regard to whether or not we are experiencing, The Dawning of the Age of Aquarius…

Apparently, there is a dispute of which I was not previously aware as a fan of The Mamas and The Papas, irregardless of my awareness of another controversy which concerns the paternity of a certain 70’s television star, (it probably wasn’t one of the “Papas”); but, I digress.

From Wikipedia: Age of Aquarius:

The Age of Aquarius is an astrological term denoting either the current or forthcoming astrological age, depending on the method of calculation. Astrologers maintain that an astrological age is a product of the earth’s slow precessional rotation and lasts for 2,160 years, on average (26,000 year period of precession / 12 zodiac signs = 2,160 years). In popular culture, the Age of Aquarius refers to the advent of the New Age movement in the 1960s and 1970s.

The “Ages”, unlike sun signs, for instance, move in a backwards, regressive, or retrograde fashion, such that The Age of Pisces temporaneously precedes The Age of Aquarius.

Suppose that we are in The Age of Pisces whereby the feminine principle insists that we all behave as if we are gynocentric schools of fish, and “the fetus” is a center of polarized obsession whether as an exalted or degraded icon, such that Pro Life vs. Pro Choice is one of the conflicts of our age.

In progressive-turning astrology, phases of life are represented by each sign:

Pisces: The Fetus/The Feet

Aries: The Infant/The Head

Taurus: Materialism/The Throat

Gemini: Sociability/The Lungs

Cancer: Home/The Chest and Stomach

Leo: Children/The Heart and Stomach

Virgo: Aestheticism/Digestive System

Libra: Justice and Beauty/Kidneys

Scorpio: Death/Sex organs

Sagittarius: Free Spirit/Liver

Capricorn: Judgment/Skeleton

Aquarius: The Angel/Circulatory system

The peak and devolutionary nature of Feminism itself to me represents the transition from the obsession with the fetus to the notion of peak consciousness or the angel. However, since Feminists seem to insist that peak consciousness is “female” then it would seem natural to me that there might be some mis-intuition with regard to which Age we are in today.

More from Wikipedia: Age of Aquarius:

Vera Reid

Vera Reid takes a common position expressed by many astrologers and New Agers about the Age of Aquarius. Reid sees the Age of Aquarius as that time when mankind takes control of the Earth and its own destiny as its rightful heritage. As such, mankind will become the “Son of God” (Aquarius13). Reid believed that the keyword for Aquarius is “enlightenment“. The destiny of mankind in the Age of Aquarius is the revelation of truth and the expansion of consciousness.[11]

Reid also believed that many of the world’s crises are attributable to the waning days of the Age of Pisces meeting the incoming tide of Aquarius, with the transition between ages lasting approximately 280 years. Reid also promoted the idea that some people will experience mental enlightenment in advance of others and therefore be recognized as the new leaders in the world.[12]

The Warmists or Climate Hysterics might also have a vested interest in viewing our current age as the “dawning” of The Age of Aquarius, under the assumption that all Deniers such as myself are destined to be destroyed.

Whereas women who deny their own age, are supposedly more enlightened than creatures such as myself who regularly announce it. I’m 53.

In a school of fish, the most protected members are those on the inside, i.e., “The Party”, with the illusion of “equality” or “egalitarianism” serving as sort of an hypnosis or trance that keeps the young fish on the outside, protecting the big, fat, older fish on the inside.

Or perhaps, the inner fish are not necessarily “fat” but possess extraordinary charisma:

Online Dating in the Post-Television Age

Television is designed to induce the desire to purchase, regardless of whether actual advertising is viewed. In the absence of commercials, values are engineered right within the program itself, with those values resulting in purchasing decisions, particularly if anxiety in terms of one’s failure to conform to prevailing values is triggered. Fear of isolation from prevailing cultural values combined with engineered agoraphobia is sort of the alternating current of media. Conformity to prevailing values is a feature of Western femininity and all those persons (males, generally speaking) who desire to navigate Western femininity, whether to sell themselves, goods, or services to that consumer base, need to be cognizant of them.

Determining the commercial interests which sponsor a particular show is a game because mere product placement is not necessarily an indicator. Rather, today, values-conditioning is the more likely culprit.

Anxiety followed by relief is the rhythm of the pervasive chant of media. The likelihood of inducing a particular conscious or subconscious response is heavily studied, often using volunteers. That’s right, advertisers and program developers don’t even need to pay guinea pigs but rather merely hold out the inducement of participation in media. That elusive sense of “immortality” gained by participation is enough inducement for a broad pool of volunteers. As for those not susceptible to such an inducement, such persons are not generally as susceptible to advertising itself and therefore their participation level is moot.

Media, generally speaking, consists of words and pictures. Sometimes the words are on a page and other times they are spoken. Sometimes the pictures are stationary and affixed to paper media and other times they are animated.

Online personal ads are yet another form of media.

While the notion that photography, lighting, and makeup “lie,” when it comes to the appearance of a personal advertiser, few personal ad respondents fully appreciate the sophistication of the average media producer or consumer. To compound the confusion, persons viewing advertising with the intent to “purchase” resent those purchases made with the aid of media that turn out to be misleading. When the product purchase can be easily returned, customer satisfaction may be restored. Returning products costs a product manufacturer money and time and therefore portraying the product accurately must be weighed against the possibility that the consumer may fail to buy an accurately portrayed product. Sophisticated analysis and metrics are available to retail distributors at a price, even if that data is obtained by in-house or less-than-objective talent. Achieving the proper balance of market penetration while preferentially appealing to consumers too lazy or disempowered to return a regretted purchase is the key to successful marketing, generally speaking, for a short-term return, which, is all that matters nowadays when it comes to consumer-based advertising.

When it comes to the personal ad, if one wants a large pool of guinea pigs to choose from, one is wise to follow marketing principles and otherwise offer just enough of a myth and just enough honesty such as to ensure a response. However, when it comes to targeted marketing, that is, only a particular type of consumer is desired, the challenges take on the weight of the shifting notion of trends promoted by other forms of media.

I have no idea whether I have enough of a finger on the pulse of today’s trends in those men interested in selecting a woman like me and therefore I rely on honesty in order to portray myself; because then at least, if the “buyer” wishes to return me to the factory, “deceptive advertising!” is not a charge I need to address.

Similarly, I also expect “honesty,” within the limits of today’s decaying and diversifying concepts of the English language.

However it is specific statistics which are the most powerful marketing tools for today’s Westerner. It doesn’t matter if the statistics are misleading or whether an individual doesn’t possess the characteristics presumed to accompany such statistics. Once those statistics are on the table, no amount of persuading the consumer that the statistics are misleading will stick.

Therefore, people—including nice people—can be expected to “lie” about those stats.

The standard stats in online dating sites of my acquaintance are:








There might even be indicators of class, income, education level, and zip code. Otherwise, language alone can guide in that identification, along with the assumption that like-seeks-like in that regard. Even if that assumption is false.

Are there acceptable excuses for lying in a personal ad? I believe that there are. However, such excuses or rationalizations are highly individual and individuality is not generally admired by Americans of my acquaintance. Conformity is, because, conformity is a feminine social feature, and female approval of one’s choices is necessary for navigating society. Since, however, I prefer to appeal to mavericks with no particular compunction for appealing to feminine-dominated society, I am obliged to make up my own rules.

Unfortunately, I have not yet found an online dating service which is conducive toward my making my own rules.

Intent, whatever that is, matters. The only way that I am personally capable of judging intent is by preponderance of the evidence, namely consistency of character represented in all electronic communication. However, if the media is the message then consistency isn’t always possible.

Still, it would be nice if I could manually weight the various factors and statistics provided by each dating site in terms of my own values. For example, I may be less concerned about certain nationalities or heights than the next woman; however that information is generally useful if not determinative. There are nationality/height combinations I find less-than-optimum in terms of my own profiling methods; therefore race and height alone is nearly useless to me. Weight is also nearly useless because it doesn’t address the composition of that weight such as bone and muscle density, frame size, etc. Age is useful in terms of shared or diverse cultural memory. Some sort of health metric that I can believe in would also be helpful to me if not necessarily determinative. I suppose that body composition metrics are too much to ask for in an online dating site?

Therefore, although statistics are useful they don’t in themselves define the person, and therefore, why wouldn’t some people lie about them in order to achieve maximum penetration of the desired marketing demographic? If prevailing agoraphobia means that a chance, real-life meeting of my desired demographic is slim, then I have no choice but to advertise. However, my experience is that my statistics aren’t adequate for screening. I don’t necessarily attract the sort of demographic I desire because in my case like is not necessarily attracted to like and the book is not necessarily indicative of its cover; but rather, I tend to be more attracted to opposites. Specifically, although I could easily be characterized as an intellectual, I’m not particularly attracted to liberal academics or persons as deeply invested in their minds as I am. Quite the contrary. I could use a break from my own obsessive over-analysis. I could use a direction rather than an excuse to prevaricate.

Moreover, although most of my professions have been “white collar,” I tend to be more attracted to “blue collar” types or persons as capable of actually accomplishing something in the physical world rather than just talking about it. Of course, I understand, that as we age, a more managerial approach may be necessary. However, I seem to be lacking in both managerial and physical world skills. I apologize in advance. However, I tend to compensate for my lack of those skills by dedication, patience, consideration, and obedience. Surely, I could not possibly be expected to bond with my own kind. We wouldn’t survive!

Although I am certainly capable of being assertive and self-directed professionally, I could not be described as either sexually or romantically dominant. Moreover, although I have strong opinions on matters of sociology, politics, religion, and economics, I do not require absolute agreement on those issues in order to be romantically interested in someone.

Then there’s my height and weight. As far as I can tell, given that I was, up until recently, an avid weight lifter, my height and weight combination is not usual for my sex and size. I am extraordinarily dense. Nutritionally, my objective is bone density. Therefore, my bodily measurements are a far more accurate representation of my fitness level than are height and weight numbers and I do not require similarity in body type. Moreover, I do not even have a preference for men who are taller than me. Given that I’m often the tallest person in the room, at 5′-10″, if I were particular in that regard I would not have had nearly the breadth of romantic experiences that I have had.

I have come up with some seemingly random qualifiers which are not so fixed in stone as to be immutable. Some of them are arcane. This is not a great strategy if my objective is to get the maximum amount of hits from consumers disinclined to return the product upon receipt. This is not my objective. Quantity of respondents is tedious. Quality however is impossible.

I despise online dating but not so much as to entirely give up on it.

The Swiss Cuckoo Clock

On my mother’s side, my grandparents represent the union of a Swiss math professor (I’m sorry that I do not know which Germanic canton because my grandfather’s immigrant parents were quite advanced in age when he was born), with a Huguenot/Scotch-Irish/German/Etc math teacher. I’ve never had my genes analyzed but for certain I can say that I’m 25% Swiss.

One of the few ancestral items my grandfather managed to retain was a beautiful cuckoo clock.

Many years ago I happened to watch Richard Dawkins, live, in-person, describe his concept of “memes,” using cuckoo birds as his representation of the concept. Although I had been a member of various secularist organizations at the time, this speech caused me to change my view entirely. Although I could never have been accurately described as “an atheist,” I was very much opposed to a state-sponsored-religion, and still am, in a broad or “Universalist” sense, but not so much in a local, or “small,” community. I think that small communities of like-minds are perfectly entitled to have their laws represent their economic and irrational values. This notion goes directly against the concept of “global free trade,” to which I am opposed for I find it to be a stalking horse for Universalism.

In a A Summary of The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins (2006), Bantam Press Phil Edwards, © April 2008 , I found the following gem:

4)  Do we need religion in order to be good?
Genes are ‘selfish’ in the sense that, through the filter of natural selection, those that survive do so at the
expense of rivals. But this does not necessarily make the organism (humans) selfish.
There are four good Darwinian reasons for individuals to be altruistic:
•  Genetic kinship: care for those who share similar genetic make-up.
•  Reciprocation: giving of favours in anticipation of a payback.
•  Acquiring a good reputation for generosity and kindness.
•  Conspicuous generosity demonstrates superiority.
These ‘rules’ of altruism may be carried out even when there is no genetic advantage (example of a reed
warbler feeding a young cuckoo).

I was recently reminded of the following Eurocentric joke:

In Heaven:
The English are the police,
The French are the lovers,
The Italians are the chefs,
The Germans are the engineers,
And the government is Swiss.

In Hell:
The Germans are the police.
The Swiss are the lovers.
The English are the chefs,
The French are the engineers,
And the government is Italian.

The cuckoo bird lays its eggs within the nest of a different breed of bird, and the adoptive parents, curiously, care for the overlarge creature which, hatches first, and then kicks out any other siblings within the nest. Here’s what that looks like:

Giant baby cuckoo bird being nourished by the host parent.

Within genetic cuckoo lines, the host breed persists, that is, a particular line of cuckoo bird lays its egg within the nest of the same breed of host, repeatedly, over generations. This behavior illustrates Richard Dawkins’ concept of “meme” as a means of illustrating that “altruism,” doesn’t require a “God.”

We all know that Ayn Rand, who was also an Atheist, was opposed to state-sponsored altruism. Perhaps in her view, a state which redistributes wealth based on “need” is a God-substitute. Therefore, Statism is a religion by any other name, but, I digress.

What if, in the interest of running the globe, a genetic interloper were to place himself within the efficient clockwork administration for which The Swiss are so well-known that the aforementioned joke recalls that efficiency clockwork meme?

The thing which set me against Dawkins and Atheism was a deceptively casual remark made by Dawkins during the aformentioned talk on memes. To my recollection it was something like this:

The birds do not actually have free will but are rather just little automatrons. Only humans have free will.

Having spent way too much time observing birds, both wild and domestic, I instinctively rebelled against this notion. It is not true! I have seen birds make decisions on a rational and multi-factored basis! Whereas I have seen cultish humans, particularly the Quaker/Universalist/Neo-Puritan cult of modern education, behave like automatrons.

They recite affirmations.

They insist on universal consensus (of Global Warming, Feminism, Statism…)

They are resistant to all possible denial of their affirmations.

This made me start to wonder. Suppose, “The Swiss,” have been infiltrated by a genetic other for purposes of being the rulers of One-World Government as well as to create cultish automatrons among their adherents?

I realize that simply making such a statement will automatically cause “Jewish Conspiracy Theorists,” to rumble.

However, suppose that there has been a shift such that some portion or faction of “The Jews,” like “The Swiss,” have already been infiltrated by a Cuckoo Bird? Somehow Ayn Rand was both resistant and immune to the cultish propaganda of Universalists, as am I.

Do the components of a Swiss Cuckoo Clock move by free will?

Who calibrates the clock?

Who makes the stock market bell ring?

Is it a cuckoo bird?

The Hemline

I don’t know when it was exactly that the hemline, or fashionable length of a woman’s skirt, was declared to be an economic indicator. I’ll guess that it was probably shortly after the invention of the miniskirt. In theory, when hemlines go up, the economy is booming, whereas when they go down, the economy is contracting. I suspect that simply stating the theory in the first place gave rise to clothing manufacturers and fashion designers making declarations that ‘skirts shall be short’, as a means of attempting to persuade some demographic or another to spend money on something. Since stock portfolios and mutual funds tend to be diversified, the world is loaded with exotic speculative financial instruments, and corporate board members tend to sit on each other’s boards, I do not assume that some development in fashion is independent of an economic indicator such as a resource extraction, human capital migration, or manufacturing lead elsewhere, for example.

My measure of prosperity of a town, city, or country tends to be in opposition to the hemline economic theory. Specifically, if I come into a place, and notice that women on the street are all tarted up, exhibiting whatever their best assets may be, whether by short hemlines, deep decolletage, skyscraper heels, or all three, I’ll assume that some of them are offering the possibility that morals—or sexual selection standards—can be bent in exchange for supper. Casting aside one’s morals or standards isn’t something to be done lightly when one has plenty of food to eat/clothes to wear/blankets on one’s bed; that is, if one is nutritionally, gastronomically, and economically satisfied, one can drive a harder bargain. Gluttony is a whole different thing and may perversely mean a dearth of something, to include food for the soul.

Some women pretend to be of a higher economic class than they are in order, supposedly, to blend into a class in which they do not rightfully belong. This is one way with which to snag an upwardly mobile or landed gent, by trickery. At least that’s a method that all the women’s fashion magazines promote, for obvious reasons. Another reason to jump on a fashion trend is to appear to one’s female peers that one is invulnerable, whether for purpose of rivalry or to reassure each other that each other’s men are safe from poaching, (because both dinner and fashion budget are secure). It is as complicated as any sort of seduction and subterfuge, which is to say multi-factored if ripe for facile analysis.

I don’t care. I’ll wear whatever I think I look good in and which, ideally, causes the intended result in persons around me or is comfortable, depending on all sorts of things. If I am trying to appear seductive, I might accept a little discomfort. If I am trying to appear cool and casual, I’ll go for something that doesn’t cause me discomfort. There just isn’t a one-size-fits-all approach, particularly as one moves about various geographic coordinates. Moreover, I don’t have a whole lot of clothes, and so, I have to compromise. Therefore, if once again, fashion decides it is going to be dictatorial, I’ll have to decide whether I want to appear to be the eccentric that I am or if I need to start either taking away or adding fabric. My own body is also subject to some fluctuation, depending on how I feel about the world. A little extra padding here and there will raise a hemline.

Whenever I am tempted to wear a skirt that might be a bit too short, I think of a coworker of mine many moons ago.

She had the body of someone who had vacillated between the extremes of mildly obese to extremely obese and therefore her skin hung in folds. Then she had the utter lack of consideration to wear sleeveless, short, breezy, loose dresses. I noticed, to my horror, that folds of the skin of her butt drooped and waddled below her hemline. The reason for this sudden elevation of her hemline was soon made clear throughout the company. She was pregnant.


The Engineered Society

It is mathematically impossible to “stop” history. So long as there are notions of sex, power, money, time, birth, and death, which are eternal, there will be population growth until population reaches some sort of psychological/mathematical critical mass. When those bubbles enlarge sufficiently, the population will self-destruct in some way. Naturally, our masters intend to engineer the process, with just enough random variability to entertain the investor class, lacking all other frontiers in which to amuse them.

The choices made as to who (by demographic markers) is to be targeted for state-extinction, self-extinction, or group-induced-extinction; and who is to be targeted for optimistic reproductive growth, are likely formularized for the purpose of eliminating the possibility of rebellion in the lower classes.

Such an engineered society requires a few very cool heads whose unconscious is also managed in some way whether through affirmations, music, ritual, or beauty.

Compliments are just as addictive as any drug for they cause biochemical reactions to the extent of even shaping one’s facial features, tone of voice, and thereby ability to either serve or lead.

A hypnotized populace is an engineered populace.

Just because my own conditioning is a bit outside of the norms doesn’t mean that it is somehow inferior or more harmful than the conditioning applied to the rest of humanity. My self-analyses here may seem like an invitation to attempt to shape me in some way. However, unless such shaping comes with love, physical proximity, material assistance, and the commitment of time, it is just so much conditioning-noise, to which I have become largely immune.

Of course I do have my positive and negative “triggers” however, they are so arcane and unusual, I am confident that a reader of this blog will be unable to identify them.

This is why I amuse myself revealing myself here in this blog. It is an exercise with just as much amusement and intellectual engagement as entertained by the master class. It is also, largely a complete material time-waster, and thereby presents a gauntlet or challenge for some special someone desiring to exploit my possibilities for life-enhancing productivity, maintenance, and peace.

On Living in the Past

I have been duly lectured that if I am to find myself a new Dominant, I’m going to have to stop “living in the past,” that is, I need to stop relishing the notion that I have experienced the utmost in love, D/s, intimacy, and heterosexual relationship, (according to my standards), with Axel.

Sounds like great advice. Probably true. However, the odds of my finding myself a new Dominant, at this stage of the game, are incredibly low. Therefore, removing my motivation to merely rise out of bed every day is counterproductive. Generally speaking, a Dominant is not going to be overly interested in a submissive woman who has trouble getting out of bed every day.

Besides, given the state of affairs, largely thanks to Feminism and other forms of Cultural Marxism, the situation out there is positively bleak for a woman like me. That’s OK. I can work with that. I need a positively bleak environment here in the U.S. in order to motivate myself to risk my life and do what I have to do.

In a sense, I am going to have to become my own Dominant.

Naturally, the recurrent offer that is not in short supply for a woman like me is that I become a Dominant to someone else. If I like, I can become a prostitute for a man, wear the outfits he fetishizes, talk dirty, hurt him a little, and make a living that way. However, those who presume that such a transformation would be easy don’t know me nor my life. Moreover, by degrading my own sense of sexual sacred I would be removing a prime reason for living. Such a state could easily backfire in terms of the investment of the slave/submissive/patron.

Even if I never find myself another Dominant, I am fortunate that I have a rich catalog of fantasies with which I can use to get myself off. None of those fantasies involve sexual relations with a man who doesn’t care about me or whose notions of sex are entirely based upon his own fetishes or mine, objectification, or whether such an act is photogenic. Whereas I have had plenty of casual sex experiences, over time, sex has become less casual for me not more. I expect Love with my Sex in some form even if it is not exclusive or monogamous love.

Given the demographics of my generation, I think that a man with a libido that even approaches mine would be a fool to be entirely monogamous. I wouldn’t expect it. I would rather a man do what he needs to do to maintain desire to include expansive notions of what is “sex”. I would do this for a man who I Love because for me Love is the ultimate high.

Whereas no laundry list of fetishes is ever going to define or limit or circumscribe “Love” to me, paradoxically, for me, in order to allow my mind to relax and to live in the moment, I require some form of ostensive not actual objectification. That is how I’m wired. It isn’t a choice. I suppose that with enough electroshock therapy I could be reprogrammed; however, for a masochist, the success of such an operation isn’t guaranteed. The result could well be complete psychosis in lieu of conversion. This programming of mine which made me who I am was instituted when I was a child, for as early as I am able to remember, with the programming changing over time and years such that it is wholly written onto my psyche. I have been programmed by my family to seek self-destruction and extinction. Nice folks, right? Paradoxically, I expect that upon death I will be freed of this programming such that my soul will be liberated from it.

Was this programming entirely conscious on the part of my family? Of course not. However at some point one has to come to terms with the results of one’s actions even if one’s conscious motivations seem to be “pure” or “good-intentioned”, or at least that is my own notion of “maturity”. My family, and most Americans in general, have refused to mature. They are zombie narcissists. At least one of the players of my family was informed by one Alfred Kinsey in terms of his notion as to what was “good”. Such was one of the more destructive propaganda forces of The Twentieth Century—the obliteration of sexual boundaries in the child and even the infant. If there is a Hell, I have no doubt that Kinsey is in it.

The notion that programming, intentions, and results can be ignored for the benefit of “good” would also apply to the generationally-compounded fallacy which is Feminism.

Scratch the surface of a Feminist and what one often finds within one possessing the very best of “intentions,” is the notion that Feminism is supposed to make women feel better about who they are. One of the mechanisms of that feeling is that men are supposed to feel better about women even when women get old, sick, ugly, stupid, selfish, and narcissistic, or even just become “un-sexy” in the mind of the beholder. In other words, a man is supposed to be attracted to ugly women, and to compensate women for that imaginary attractiveness materially, with ugly being an entirely subjective rating albeit subject to programming (if resistant to shaming by Feminists).

One of the reasons I know this about Feminists is because—in person at any rate or with the aid of a professional photographer—I am attractive. I know this because men give me attention, for free, and women presume that I am somehow wealthy as a result and therefore willing to pick up the tab.

What the deluded women who live beneath the propaganda of romance novels like Fifty Shades of Grey don’t understand however is that masochism has no material value even in an attractive woman. Sure, there are psychopathic sadists who will pay to destroy another human being but there’s no amount of money which will compensate for one’s own destruction; and therefore, keep an eye out for the pimp. There always is one and don’t let sex or gender disguise that reality because Feminism is one of the bigger, more materially successful, pimps that there is. Lesbian feminists on the other hand (and the men who fetishize them) tend to be those who exploit the degradation of a woman’s sexual value—they go short rather than long.

The only thing of value that I can provide to a man willing to do what I need is service. As it so happens I have a strong record of service including letters of reference to that effect. I also have honor, loyalty, devotion, and all sorts of fabulous character traits. Perhaps if my Venezuelan venture succeeds, I will even have money to compensate such a man. Today, however, I do not. Nor do I have anything in my heart approaching youth for I have no innocence. I left what was left of it in Venezuela. In lieu of those things, however, what I do have is openness, character, and truth. That is what Axel saw in me. No it was not just my attractiveness and sexual skills. Not even my cooking! Of course it helped that at the time, I still had a little money, because that is how we survived until he got his business going, upon which—at the point of positive cash flow, he was diagnosed with Stage Four Plus cancer.

I therefore, borrowed from my own inheritance to attempt to cure him. We failed.

However, in the online dating market the only thing of any concern to the buyer are mere statistics, photographs, and words. Try as they might, Madison Avenue has not yet found a way to convey character along with branding to any reliable degree. However, by analyzing our psycho-sexual responses to mere statistics, photographs, and words, over time, in a continuum, they have come upon approximations in order to enslave the unconscious of the majority until the trend evolves and becomes stale. Charting these trends is the major business of the internet.

I regret that I have no interest in taking on a male or female slave to U.S. propaganda. For I am programmed only to seek Dominance and self-destruction, while fiercely holding onto my own sacred.

Not Interested in Taming a Man

I started to write a long-winded comment in response to this essay:
but then realized perhaps my contribution isn’t particularly appreciated. I’m sure the author will either confirm or deny my intuition with either action or inaction. We’ll see.
However, I feel as if I have something to say in response to the essay and therefore might as well say it here. Here goes:

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