Sneaky Florida Fascists

It’s for the children and the fishes!

Environmentalist Tackles a Florida Law That Preemptively Blocks Smoking Bans

If you’re planning on enjoying a cigar in Florida in order to celebrate the new year, note the sneaky campaign to outlaw smoking outdoors that decided to use the holidays as a time to introduce this campaign:

Sneaky Campaign

Please do not allow any anti-tobacco advocates to generate any sort of trash that an earthworm could choke on this New Year’s.

Urban Birds Using Cigarette Butts to Protect Nests

Life is a State of Mind

The title of this piece is the last “quote” from the sayings of the fictional character Ben Rand from the movie Being There. It questions the nature of reality as perceived by man.

A man who believes that he wants me physically but yet cannot or will not provide me leadership or direction other than to demand that I indulge him whether according to his own standards or some standard created for him by other women is like an infant. However, I have no sexual feelings for infants. If I did, then, well, I would have a different problem.

Is it the infantile needs of men that inspire the “rape culture” delusion as manufactured by Machiavellians? Does an infant “rape” his or her mother? No wonder Feminists have rejected motherhood in droves. That’s probably for the best because who really wants to perpetuate the genes of persons of such deluded thought patterns?

I can have affection for infants, like Chauncey Gardiner, the main character of Being There, played by Peter Sellers, but that doesn’t mean I’m Shirely MacLaine as Mrs. Rand, that is, I am not turned on.

Naturally, I would not expect to sustain a relationship where sex is the only means of affection only that it helps to have such a spark when embarking on a new relationship. What is “spark”? Is it necessarily female dominance? I don’t believe so however as I get older it would appear that this is the demand made of me by most to include those who find my revulsion at their infantile desire to consume me either stimulating or a problem that only they can fix (regardless of ability, sensitivity,  perception, or female anatomical group selection bias).

Warmists and other Atheists like to believe that they alone are in possession of “facts” and universal reality itself such that spin and Machiavellians do not exist, only facts. A fact, of course, is determined by a consensus of Warmists and Atheists, who self-define the nature of “Science” and therefore themselves.

Right and wrong, to them, are fluid concepts, in service to their agenda. While I concede that indeed, human trends have cycles, I believe that the only universal authority as to what is right and wrong is God. Warmists and other Universalist Atheists however believe that Machiavellians have all “facts” in terms of what is “right” and “wrong” and are therefore God-like humans incapable of sheer excess of power. Thus we mere mortals should be compelled by force of law to accept their “rightness”.

That “spark” that Warmists feel is all of their power being drained out by the Machiavellians (and if you don’t see any, you are one), to include their own supposed supplicants demanding salves for their own hysteria in exchange for peace and sex. I’m sure that it’s heady, for a while. I’m sorry but I must pass, and it’s not about “phobia” or “hate” but rather sexual revulsion.

Without God there is no Hope and it is Hope which enables people to get up every day and go about living.

If there is no Hope or God however, then, there really are no limits to the following song except entirely human ones of “right” and “wrong”:

Cristina – Is That All There Is (1980) RARE

Those youngsters who believe that Nihilism is something that they invented may wish to be disabused of this conceit by the above link. For the record, I love the song, even if I would prefer to hear “lude” as “lube”, which of course, would make me abnormal.

On a side note, evidence of the above song and its date could easily be used to defend Mr. Quaalude himself, Bill Cosby, who I believe played a little bit too close for comfort within the power base of other Machiavellians to include the patrons of some of his “victims”.

Fortunately, Nihilism and Loss of Hope don’t necessarily kill oneself directly, at least not right away.

Is Hope Good? Or is the logical consequence of Atheism to remove all Hope and to otherwise condone and encourage suicide by all non-Machiavellians as well as disappointed Machiavellians?

Do Machiavellians believe that they can survive simply by ruling their own sycophants or robots? What will they do when not only oil is gone or otherwise not obtainable at a profit but all Hope is gone? Is the consumption of all Hope sustainable for any society or “utopia?” Of course not. That’s why belief or faith is necessary, even “in the shadow of death”.

There is more than one way to commit suicide. There is Terrorism or there is simply the ability to drive Atheists, Warmists, and other Machiavellians to murderous rage upon oneself, such as to consume the Denier detractor by sucking out all his (or her) air, prior to of course consuming each other. Perhaps that is the true meaning of the Crucifixion myth, which persists through various archetypes of various religions, but which is indeed represented through various human beings who channel such archetypes consciously or unconsciously—such as via God or by mere overemphasis on Machiavellianism as the only avenue of legal survival within an overreaching technocratic state.

Such is one of the powers of Art and Myth to evoke archetypal events.

Those who follow me to my other forum will perhaps see exactly what I mean about Warmists. Others are too obsessed with Machiavellian-spun “facts” which curiously omit data.

Meanwhile, I am inspired by Cristina to submit some of my own Art for your review. Should I sell it? Burn it? Transform it into an opera? Make it nicer? Add a “spark?”

My Resolve

 

 

One Life to Live

The way I see it, a similarity between Atheism and at least some forms of Christianity is the notion that one has only one life to live.

In the case of Atheism, this one life is all there is, and therefore one should feel entitled to do anything in order to both “improve” and extend one’s life, and Science and drugs can be that vehicle used to accomplish that wholesome and perky vampire look. Furthermore, if “natural selection” is all there is, one will be “good” because that’s the “rational” way to ensure the success of one’s offspring, except when it isn’t, but that’s OK because Science and Government will eventually come along and assure all outcomes.

For a one-life-to-live Christian however, so long as one blah blah blah Christ then when one dies, one goes to Heaven. Follow the rules, all will be forgiven, and it’s eternity in Heaven for you, you blessed one. Mess up and it’s eternity in Hell for you, sucker, or at least what will seem like an eternity in Purgatory.

In both the case of the Atheist and the Christian is the presumption that a “life” is created out of nothing, or spontaneous generation from a “Big Bang”. Nothing in the universe has this property except for a human life and the universe itself.

In the case of the Old Testament and Talmud however, one is mandated to be obedient, at least in principle, to the economic guidelines which are all about survival on Earth of Jews, which is great if one has a “natural selection” motive to ensure that Jews survive on Earth in this plane, within this time continuum, until (insert magic prophesied thing) occurs, and then Eternal Bliss.

For Hindus on the other hand, one goes through a progression (if one is “good” or a “regression” (if one is bad), at least how this non-Hindi interprets it, with Nirvana being freedom from reincarnation. That makes more sense to me, that is, recycling of each part of the one, with “the one” meaning everything, except that I don’t believe that Nirvana or the end or beginning of time ever occurs, only that perspective changes.

The bipartisan consensus or intersection between Atheism and Christianity is that the longer one gets to live, the better one’s chance at success/ability to do right by Good/God becomes. Christians are supposed to reproduce, whereas Atheists might logically conclude, under an enlarged state which ensures outcomes, or under a war state, that more babies mean more chance of survival or at least entertainment for parent(s). Therefore longevity and baby making are both, by consensus, Good/God, along with assuring the survival of the weakest and most idiotic at the expense of the strong, thoughtful, and independent, because to do otherwise would be unkind.

Note to self: Do not watch the movie, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, before stepping out in Southwest Florida.

One planet, one plane, one life, one chance, and binary Good/Evil. I don’t buy it.

With a constant population growth trajectory, it is no wonder, in my view, that Jews or Asians or anyone really good at math are necessary to suppress the vibrant peasant class to keep them from multiplying beyond geographical resources and thereby start riots, or otherwise prematurely reach the logical maximum adherence to ideology and trends. If left to their own devices, it is only a matter of time that the twin obsessions with feelings and babies are going to burst like all ideological bubbles. What then? Will both feelings and babies cease to matter to the majority? Wouldn’t that be Evil?

On the other hand, there also needs to be forces to keep the populations of Jews and Asians in line and therefore there is Good in Evil on that end too.

The notion of merely slowing down reproduction of the tumor of humanity is one of those paradoxes because after all Cancer, Age, and Death are Evil whereas Babies, Youth, and Longevity are Good.

But the tumor Loves me! Why should I want to make such a Good thing feel bad?

Because it is a regression is why and I’m going in a different direction on a different plane, which, of course, is no assurance of success on this one.

 

Hello Vanilla Dating

Utterly disgusted by the prevalence of Leftism and thereby deception in the BDSM world, I took the plunge and signed up with a large vanilla mainstream dating service.

As always, I stated clearly in my profile that I don’t chat and thereby was instantly greeted with dozens of chat requests.

As always, I stated clearly in my profile (several times!) that I am a smoker and thereby was instantly favorite-ed by dozens of committed nonsmokers.

Perhaps this means that smoking couples remain together in long-term committed relationships and therefore have no need to go back on the market. Smoking single men, on the other hand, have apparently learned that there’s no point going on a dating site where they will be a minority.

Nonsmoking smoking fetishists however have no such disincentive.

Similarly, my “conservative” political views don’t discourage Liberals.

I guess this means that I am still “hot” in that my photo is apparently the only thing of importance even though it isn’t particularly revealing.

Thus far, those aspirants who have successfully made it past my gauntlet of “no chat” have been otherwise highly unqualified.

At least I am getting even more material as to the degradation of the human male character (doubtless inspired by the degradation of the human female character) for my writing.

I went on my first date yesterday. I give him credit for honesty. The only reason he came to see me is because I was the only female on the site who had responded to him. Otherwise, I was unqualified, that is, I am not his physical type. He was honest enough to point out to me his type in the crowd, a petite brunette at least 20 years younger than I am. He lamented that his type doesn’t find him to be sufficiently physically attractive, even though, I don’t understand why he has that idea about himself. I told him that his attitude was the only thing holding him back because he was plenty attractive but obviously wasn’t possessing sufficient “game” to attract 20-somethings. Ironically, he was offering what just about every young woman wants, getting ready to retire from a government service job, and thereby “secure”, and wanting a woman who will devote himself exclusively to his own needs.

I thought I gave him some pretty good pointers but I’m sure there is nothing that I could say to him that would crack the media-fueled fantasies in his mind.

It would appear thus far that American men of the vanilla world are just as fantasy-driven as the BDSM world except that their fantasies aren’t nearly as interesting, by and large.

This is not to say that there aren’t equally boring fantasies in the BDSM world, particularly given that since Leftism is the dominant ideology, there is no screening of any sort with regard to references and authenticity. By that I mean that the married suburban swingers and spankos mingle right in with the hardcore but yet think of themselves as avant-guarde. The fact that I don’t find them so tars me as a slut.

Well, if the shoe fits…

Putting aside my preferred personal sexual persona for a moment, is a person who has had five sexual partners in the last 17 years considered a “slut” today?

Surely a suburban swinger has had more.

I guess if one actually admits to these sorts of statistics then I am already automatically hardcore.

Putting aside some of my exotic experiences it would appear that those characteristics which make me most hardcore are the following:

Anti-feminist

Smoker

Honesty

 

Don’t Date a Writer

In our information age, where all knowledge is free, and anyone can write, maintain a blog, publish a book, and otherwise call him or herself “a writer,” it is assumed by some recreational writers or non-writers that writing is not only fun and easy but that by simply providing a writer a reason to write is a favor which ought to be repaid somehow. (By writing?) Moreover, just writing alone is reward enough for writing. The same would apply to the opportunity to give advice to strangers who demand it. It’s a privilege! Thank you all!

As a purveyor of a free blog I suppose that I perpetuate these notions. I even take advantage of my circumstances in that I answer to no one in writing it. Even the most diligent muckraker will be unable to show bias that doesn’t exist in terms of whatever economic forces might shape my opinions. I exploit my unique position to present an unbiased opinion to the public albeit couched in anonymity.

Feminism, Anthropogenic Global Warming, and Health-Nannyism however, have plenty of deep-pocketed agendas. I am opposed to those ideologies.

My blog does in fact have several missions. Sure, I enjoy doing it but it isn’t for nothing.

One of those missions is romance. I’m a girl and that’s my first priority. Once that is in place, I have loads of energy for bigger and better things, as is my track record. This first mission is a tall order, of course. I have no illusions in that regard. I’m not only over the hill but behind the times.

Another of those missions is to get a finger on the pulse of the world I largely left behind in order to marry and be a homesteader of sorts in Venezuela.

Another of those missions is to flaunt my stuff in terms of possibly one day reentering “the workforce” as most people know it, albeit ideally as not just another “working stiff.” I am however losing heart in terms of finding a boss and a lover in the same man, for, as described further, such a man both interested and capable of the same roles probably need not trouble himself with the difficulties of such engagement with a writer.

Another of those missions was to attempt to locate my missing international con artist husband. I’ve put that mission on hold for now pending further developments.

Another of those missions and perhaps the most important one is to express my views in a multitude of ways, such that if I fail in the other missions, I will have at least left my electronic footprint on the world in terms of a cautionary tale, as concerns the agendas and trail of tears of Feminism, Cultural Marxism, Atheism, Health-Nannyism, Climate, Nutrition, and other forms of Universal Morality/Government agendas a.k.a. Utopianism, and, frankly, whatever else may come to mind in terms of soap-box-worthy notions in my view.

If I can or can’t save myself, I at least want to feel that I have a purpose of some merit in the universe. Ideally, this purpose will in fact save me somehow, even if today, I’m unsure of the form that salvage will take. It would appear however that this last mission will subvert my first mission in some form.

Back when I was in college, on a scholarship, as a former teen-aged runaway, I entered into a specific concerted writing program. One of the achievements of that program was for my professor to announce that my own project of the time was in her view “the most finished” of all the other student projects. I do not delude myself that this particular lauded state was due to some great talent that I had that my other classmates did not but rather to the truism of writing which is that one must write about what one knows, and I happened to have known a bit more about life than my older classmates.

One of the areas of writing in which apparently I shone was in my ability to write dialog. That ability was doubtless formed by my fly-on-the-wall status with older adults who had decided that I was safe to include in a variety of conversations and endeavors. The breadth of experiences of those adults across various demographics informed my ability to pick up on dialect and lingo. However, I suspect that this ability of mine is now largely out-of-date given my current largely isolated existence and the vagaries of the Dating by Catalogue and Tamagotchi Complex era that we live in, but within which I only just barely reside. However, I am actively working to change my ability to navigate popular dialog by getting out, socializing, having conversations with strangers, and yes—when I can’t find a reason not to which is most of the time—online dating.

Back in college, one of my short stories was inspired by individuals who I had known there, as well as some known elsewhere; however, although I put in place deliberate modifications in order to disguise their identities, some of the real life individuals seemed to recognize themselves in the story, even if this recognition might have resulted in choosing the wrong characters with which to identify. My biggest mistake was inserting a caricature of myself therein which added enough realism to cause others to become obsessed about identifying themselves. This was a power that I didn’t want but is apparently part of the price for being a writer capable of writing fiction that seems like it isn’t. Jerzy Kosinski who has served as an inspiration for me on more than one occasion, had a similar lament.

Whereas other classmates, in the fine arts program, who engaged in the practice of photographing, sketching, and painting my nude body as an artist’s model didn’t feel that their practice was in any way equivalent to my own art form and therefore couldn’t understand why I felt entitled to engage in it. In other words, use of my youthful body, with it’s obvious future expiration date, was worth nothing in terms of the morals of the day, whereas use of selected characteristics from a live human within fiction could negate a friendship. Huh?

Meanwhile, according to the morals of today, the use of my own time and craft to create personalized prose and erotica for the benefit of individuals who have no particular material investment in me, is apparently the price of courtship or friendship for me, because as a writer, my craft is worth nothing. In what manner after I invest such time for apparently no return am I obligated to exclude selected characteristics of such an individual that don’t specifically identify that individual from my writing? I don’t see it. I call that fair game!

It is no wonder that so many writers limit their own social activity.

When I chose to leave the cloistered and pampered college environment of my youth it was largely because I decided to stop writing fiction and short stories as not worth the social hassle, and to instead first get any job in the real world for which I was qualified. I was then to become a technical writer, which, I believed, was to cause me less in the way of emotional fallout from other human beings.

One of the events which informed that decision was the Silicon Valley Boom of the times. It seemed like a no-brainer recipe for achievement and success, which were two things I had been told that I should want, rather than say marry and attach my star to a man rather than forging my own. However, such things were out of fashion with the people who I had been led to believe were my peers to include my largely much older lovers.

Nowadays, I write more about my own conclusions and life itself than either fiction or technical writing. The things I write about include my various romantic forays, past and present. However, I do not disclose confidential information or otherwise “out” anybody who hasn’t consented to it, with the exception of The Han, of course, and I reserve the right to do damage in kind to anyone attempting to so damage me. While I may be inspired by various real individuals, I change details, combine archetypes, and otherwise protect confidentiality. That hasn’t stopped certain individuals from circumventing my efforts and effectively outing themselves, but I tend to delete such comments, depending on the forum in which they appear, and whether I personally have the power to do so.

In order to both protect confidences and to avoid making my blog into some sort of gossip column, I engage in “composites”, distortions of the timeline, and otherwise blur real life in all of its forms for purposes of making points, illustrating concepts, and otherwise conveying messages. Sometimes these messages have specific individual audience members in mind, but they are always plural audience members rather than specific individuals among the hundreds who visit this blog every day. However, for those who assume that their importance in my life is elevated, it is entirely possible that my blog seems like it is all about them. To those persons I say, “join the club.”

Jerzy Kosinski lamented that so many people assumed that even his fiction was nonfiction to the point of interviewers who queried, “Mr. Kosinski, how many people have you assassinated?” The answer is “None.”

For the record, I accept his defense made against accusations of plagiarism and other malfeasance, even if eventually the pressure on his friends and family and the futility of it all prompted him to take his own life.

Some people are incapable of distinguishing fiction or composite characters from real life. To those people the television must appear as if it is speaking only to them.

Men who assume that they “own” me having only shared minute experiences of me will harbor their delusions with no help from me.

Part of the lie of The Sexual Revolution is the notion that a woman shall always have “value” regardless of her age or level of sexual experience. While I do indeed see that all persons have value, that value changes over time, by biological and psychological necessity. If, in our collective past, a woman’s value in The West was guaranteed by her husband, family, and community, in the modern age, only The State and whatever lawyers a woman can either afford or attract guarantee that value. In my case, not willing to play the game of The State, all out of money to spend on expensive lawyers, and having a story that so far doesn’t have an interest group that wants to promote it and otherwise invest in it for my own benefit as well as their own, there are no guarantees.

In a way, that makes me “like a man”. Men are expected to “stand on their own two feet,” whereas women—all rhetoric to the contrary—not only aren’t expected to do this but few actually do. Only a father or similar figure interested in protecting his daughter from heterosexuality would entertain such a delusion. Women’s brains and muscles compete with the uterus for calories. Just how productive can a woman be with that handicap especially during one’s reproductive bloom? For some, it is plenty productive, however in terms of the spectrum of femininity, women fall short of the spectrum of masculinity. Deal with it. Those who approach masculine productivity are generally speaking only attractive to men who miss their mommies in some form, whether as a young princess who he first laid eyes on as an infant or some idealized media-driven form. Men who are transcended from their mommies, in my observation, desire a woman who will accept his authority rather then merely sexual dominance given or received. Such “authority” gleaned purely through electronic means however is every bit as regressive as the mommy-obsessed.

If all I required for my sexual satisfaction was some sort of BDSM recipe then surely I would be throwing myself into professional success right now so that I could buy it just the way I like it, rather than dealing with rank amateurs who think that my sharing of my rhetorical self implies some sort of covenant or contract.

Men who think that I will be monogamous and intellectually faithful to the mere idea of some sort of productivity provisioning from them, and assume that I as an “empowered” woman am already in no need of such provisioning given my own assumed economic and productive success, are as deluded as a Feminist for assuming that women don’t need men!

Without a tribe to adopt me, I am forced to hedge my bets and to assume nor give no loyalty. This blog is about me! It’s not about someone who is not here with strong shoulders and an insurance policy to cover my outcomes should he, say, die, go mad, take up drinking, decide that his experience with me has enriched and strengthened him enough to return to a previous relationship thus renewed, etc.

For a better offer, I would drop this blog like a bad habit, but certainly not as some sort of affectation as to demonstrate my neediness, loyalty, and ability to conform to some feminine archetype of an imaginary patron’s imagination. Meanwhile, even if I am not writing, my writer’s observational abilities in terms of the foibles of human existence aren’t likely to diminish. Therefore, it would behoove men to approach my mind with a degree of caution rather than some presumption that I am as gullible and malleable as all females of his experience.

I haven’t eliminated the possibility of accepting contributions for this blog one day; however, the idea that such will nudge me into compliance with modern morality makes me balk. For example, it is my observation today that Americans with children and even grandchildren are deluded that spending their money at big box warehouse food concerns is somehow sustainable in terms of leaving their children a decent world, rather than say, paying top dollar for the output of small local farms, patronizing local businesses, and otherwise creating a place and economy of value for their descendants. In other words, there is some sort of mixed up morality in terms of frugality that competes with having an interest in the future of one’s children. If at all possible, I would prefer to not be in a position such as to be forced to cater to that moral sense or lack thereof or risk appearing “extravagant” or even “condescending” in my values by not reproducing children I can’t afford to feed according to my own values. Oops I guess I just did.

Therefore, as best as I can tell, the only way to contribute to my blog without shaping it would be to do so posthumously, although that could also result in some form of influence out of my admiration for someone who would do such a thing without direct self-interest in the here-and-now. It’s a paradox, for certain.

Meanwhile, if the possibility that I might display some sense of independence or disloyalty by means of contributing my own writing to my own blog is considered a threat to any romantic possibility whatsoever, then such a man is advised to please go away. Don’t go away sad. Don’t go away mad. Just go away.

Next time, don’t choose a writer. Choose someone safe and easy that doesn’t challenge your conceptions of what a woman is, or hire a pro.

As for me, I have no intention of remaining young forever. Should you be interested in the ride, all the way to the finish line, then perhaps you can persuade me that you and only you—not my international blog audience—deserve my undivided attention. An insurance policy of some sort would however offer me more sense than empty rhetoric or emotional appeals. Meanwhile, longevity, security, and romance are simply not sufficient motivators for me to entirely subsume my ideals anymore, and therefore it is entirely possible that this blog shall impede all efforts of mine toward romantic connection.

At least this doesn’t require me to lobotomize myself in order to gain satisfaction from it.

How to Enforce Order in a Heterosexual D/s Relationship

If I actually had the universal answer to the problem indicated by the title of this piece, I wouldn’t be giving it out for free but rather I would soon become very rich. Rather, I can only speak in terms of my own experiences, to include participation in BDSM discussion groups, where one necessarily has to avoid the third rail in terms of inviting state or community scrutiny upon one’s relationship.

I am inspired by this piece: Word for Men’s Rights (1856)

It’s a terrific read and I recommend it to anyone possessing of the notion that women have ever been “oppressed” by anything other than biology.

Enforcing order when one is prohibited from punishing a woman is a dilemma which many a burned man refuses to engage in. Such is likely a strong motivation for many who call themselves MGTOW.

Those who are instead reduced to snarky, bitter, and deceptive seduction practices have my sympathy but I don’t feel myself that I have any obligation as to right the wrongs of my gender particularly when it is my own gender who has most wronged me. Men who adopt the same practices of women of poor character in order to punish women of superior character may indeed be cynically reacting to an impossible dilemma however this doesn’t mean that I ought to be the one to cater to them.

Rather, I merely wish to disabuse such men of the notion that “an intelligent woman” is the solution to all of their problems, particularly, given my track record with the Han, is somewhat of a dubious distinction on my part. Rather, it would seem that my hard-worn knowledge has made me into a liability for future, less-than-polished con artists. By liability, I mean that I waste their time and/or inspire their invective.

Should I feel sorry that I didn’t fuck a mean, bitter, and sniping sort of twit? Should I feel as if it is my loss? How about his sour grapes assessment of me? Should I feel as if I am not worth the time of a mean, bitter, and sniping sort of attention-span bereft idiot? Am I supposed to feel bad?

Well I do, and it isn’t about myself. It’s about my chances on this planet in this time with my baggage.

I also feel relieved that my instincts once again allowed me to dodge a bullet—a few of them in fact. My survival thus far both speaks well of my instincts as well as creates of me a sort of sour grapes target. I suppose that’s the price I must pay.

An additional obligation that I believe is my own is to attempt to provide just a touch of optimism toward men who are not yet completely gone over to the dark side with regard to the impossible situation that society puts them in.

So, how does one punish a woman who by heart or law or something belongs to you?

By the way, if you’re reading this and you’re breathing, I don’t belong to you, and so my techniques herein are not going to work for you on me, especially when used specifically rhetorically, as opposed to actually in my presence. I am largely immune from all electronic rhetoric. Rather, I find it entertaining. So, please do not feel discouraged from disgorging your spleen in this blog. Please do!

Now, without further ado…

Firstly, the situation with regard to the burgeoning state has made heterosexual romance illegal. Only “egalitarian” (gynocentric) relationships are legal. Therefore, it would behoove all men to only make “egalitarian” remarks to women online or in any position to be recorded.

Should you find yourself a woman who you can trust (and there are of course ways to ensure that trust, however, none of them are legal), then she needs to be reasoned with both rationally and irrationally via the carrot and the stick approach.

However, when it comes to the stick, the only stick you effectively have is withdrawal of carrots. Explain to her, rationally and reasonably, that you are unable to provide her carrots unless she obeys you and otherwise respects your leadership role. If she does not respect your leadership role in the relationship, then the relationship is already over in terms of romance, and has therefore devolved into merely a legal one (and that includes any sort of relationship nowadays between a man and a woman). Therefore, you can agree that should the relationship no longer be a romantic relationship, that you recognize that it is still your legal duty (if you’re married) to satisfy her sexually and that you are prepared to accommodate her access to other lovers, or purchase for her a vibrator (keep the receipt), but that you are unwilling to allow yourself to be raped by a woman who does not respect you.

Furthermore, for any services you may perform for her, you expect her to repay you in terms of specific services, which may include whatever things she is capable of doing for you in such a way that pleases you. Therefore, if she wants something from you, respond with the price for that service.

Ideally, however, things will never degrade to this point. Rather, to keep it from degrading to this point, you must cater to her irrational nature. To do this, it would behoove you to take the time and patience to truly discover what she likes about you. Ask her about it. Discuss it with her, and over time, see for yourself whether she is honest about these things. If it would appear that her description of what she likes doesn’t apply to reality, then ask questions in terms of your understanding and hers. If she’s shy or difficult about it, try a little sexual withdrawal torture, i.e., “make her beg for it.” While she’s begging for it, make her explain until there is some agreement with “reality” and her words.

Once you get that agreement, reward her, exactly as she has stated that she wants to be rewarded.

Now explain what it is that you want from her.

 

Smoking Electrician Who Hates Snow

If that title grabs your attention and fits the bill, you may just find yourself at the head of the line of those vying for my affections.

I may be “retired” and “of a certain age” but shopping, golfing, or talking about nothing doesn’t appeal when my household is like a gaping wound with no man in it.

What do I care about intellectual discussions and evidence of sophisticated tastes when there are no strong, capable hands around? Not at all is what.

What is so great about having a relatively preserved youthful appearance and otherwise catching glances when my package is constantly attracting the wrong type? I need a Blue Collar image consultant which flags me as a masculinity-friendly, non-television-driven iconoclast, as opposed to whatever I appear to be now.

Of course, I am probably out of my element here in Southwest Florida, where I find that if I open my mouth to do anything but smile, nod, and affirm, I shock people with my lack of “normalcy”.

So. What happened? A couple of outlets in my home stopped working for no reason. I wouldn’t even have noticed but my electric toothbrush ran out of charge. This manufactured home presents its own issues because it isn’t, well, “normal”. I’ll probably pick up the phone and some fresh-faced child will show up and I’ll pay him a bundle. I can afford it, for now, but an excuse to bring a man into my home and keep him here for a little while, roll out some sourdough for a pizza or something, and otherwise relish the notion of practical skills that don’t come with a whole lot of either intellectualizing or mutual affirmations would be so welcome about now.

I remember how prospective clients would be drawn to Axel and his truck, with its clever logo and the warm inviting aura shared by both parties. I’m going to have to start prowling parking lots myself but I don’t quite gel with the natives here, for some reason.

What level of so-called “empowerment,” or “independence” makes up for having no man around? What is so great about being complimented for whatever it is that’s so great about me but which has resulted in me being not just alone for the holidays, but alone at a profound level?

Meanwhile, I’ll tough this situation out for a while, because, I can always brush my teeth in the kitchen. Who is going to know?

Cigar Bitch

Is it cruel of me to give nonsmokers a chance at me? I know perfectly well that it is never going to work. So long as one’s core values include swallowing the nonsense that there is anything approaching a dose-response relationship of tobacco to any of the maladies it is supposedly associated with is pretty well a deal breaker. That doesn’t mean that I believe that everyone should smoke. That would also be ludicrous. For example, I don’t think that vegetarians, polyunsaturated oil enthusiasts, birth control pill users, or sickly people should smoke; however, I don’t particularly want to date such types either.

While I can understand that some professions would punish a smoker disproportionately, that scenario hasn’t yet presented itself to me. If a man decides not to smoke in favor of a career or other activity not compatible with smoking, such as say laboratory assistant in an environment where no particulate is a good particulate, that’s his choice and I respect it. However, such a choice does not justify adopting the state-delivered rhetoric in terms of the evils of tobacco. It’s a plant! It’s not evil! There are medicinal benefits!

This medicine is probably not applicable to all persons. However, neither am I. I’m not designed for universal acceptance. Being around me could possibly even be hazardous to the health of anyone addled with state-supported propaganda. If you’re not ready for your closely-held beliefs to be challenged, please keep walking. We’re both better off. My availability is not a Democracy nor Equal Opportunity position. I’m entitled to any reason to discriminate or none.

It would seem to me that tobacco enthusiasm is not an unreasonable requirement at all for me to entertain. Similarly, should I choose to associate with the extremely tobacco adverse or paranoid, that’s my choice, and I have made it for exceptional cases, but by no means am I obligated to do so. It is only the Cultural Marxists who insist that all standards are unnecessary in that the state shall define standards for all. How grotesque. Life is not Kindergarten.

 

Succinct Definition of Feminism

Thanks to Disqus user, disqus_QL05BqU79X:

Feminism hasn’t “won” anything. All its “gains” were simply the result of foregone conclusions (e.g. voting rights) or the result of societal and technological advancements (e.g. The Pill and VC abortion method) the shirt-tails on which feminists clung needlessly, basking in the glory of others thereafter.

Feminism is a purely Stalinist-style movement designed to divide the population along gender lines to allow the state more and increasingly totalitarian control of the population. Women’s re-entrance into the workplace in the 1970s was engineered solely so the state could tax more people and more efficiently dissolve familial bonds; thus community and society always follows. Nothing is as divisive as a cult that splits humanity down the middle and pits the halves against each other. All feminist tenets are lies. There is no truth in the doctrine whatsoever.

Quoted by permission.

Intelligent Female

The title of this piece is a self-cancelling phrase, in terms of the animal nature of female. Of course the same could be said about “intelligent male,” although the animal may have a successful seduction strategy that also involves higher-level thinking such as to know when to pursue and when to pull back for purposes of self-preservation.

Different forces of a persona might wax and wane according to circumstances. Since this blog is read by a variety of individuals, both supportive and hostile toward the concepts herein, there is no reason for me to display my soft underbelly.

This stance of mine is probably why individual men persist in attempting to engage me via email, chat, or telephone such as to ascertain whether it is even possible to penetrate my intellectual defenses with animalistic appeals using purely verbal means, or in the case of the telephone, sound input as well. By that way of thinking, there’s probably no point in coming to meet me in Southwest Florida if such vulnerability in me is not evident via such electronic media.

It is not as if I have any political rivals or enemies desiring material with which to slice me to bits given that my views are so mainstream and noncontroversial…right?

Consider then, Gentlemen, my refusal to engage, at least not at the depth or even primitive (i.e., pornographic) levels usually desired by such intrepid souls using purely electronic means, identifies me as probably not susceptible to your standard seduction methods, if your standard seduction methods exclusively rely on electronic means.

To even meet me in person provides no guarantee that you will be that particular needle in a haystack with an approach that melts me, the “intelligent woman,” or otherwise gets me out of my head and into either my groin or even (shudder) my heart. It’s probably not worth it to the majority of you. It would therefore behoove only those actually up for the challenge to come to meet me in person, in Southern Florida (there, I’ve expanded my hunting grounds to the East), rather than attempting disruption of my defenses using purely electronic means.

If upon meeting me, you are not prepared to engage me in any matter mutually entertaining or animalistic, then attempting to make up for whatever shortcomings may have resulted from such a meeting with electronic communication is not likely to succeed.

Fair warning. The first personal visit is unlikely to have the conclusive effect unless your objective is either mere seduction or platonic discussion. Rather, a fact-finding expedition, with suitable give-and-take such as to establish some level of communication comfort (such as that we speak the same language, there is attraction, etc.) is what I recommend.

On the other hand, I’ve recently been the lucky recipient of an effective seduction technique which was clearly and honestly a mere physical encounter such that my mind, opinions, and intellect were not the commodities sought. It was a wonderful experience! Naturally, the gentleman (or “rogue” if you like) met me at a venue in which persons of my persuasion were explicitly welcome, rather than either meeting me through my writing or “in the wild.” Such an encounter defends the public BDSM scene even if such is also a case of finding a needle in a haystack.

We both got something out of the encounter, and it wasn’t of an intellectual nature. However, that’s probably not going to lead to anything approaching a heartfelt connection.

That doesn’t mean that a girl can’t dream.

However, that’s not the only possibility on the table, particularly since, by necessity, I like keeping my expectations ultra-low. For example, a friendship with benefits not exclusively on his terms would also be welcome. I at the least can offer somewhat of a unique and authentic package if not fulfillment of a catalogue order.

In my own arsenal in terms of my own objectives are also some formidable seduction methods to include homemade lasagna.

Recipe:

Twelve high-quality lasagna noodles (Italian durum wheat semolina) prepared according to instructions

8 strips high-quality bacon (pasture-raised, organic, heritage, low-sugar, etc.)

Nutmeg, allspice, cinnamon, cardamon, turmeric, fennel seeds

Bacon fat or lard

Two or three medium or small zucchini sliced, or one whole eggplant diced

Madras curry powder, cumin, red pepper flakes, mustard seeds

Salt and pepper

1/2 stick of butter

2 whole garlic cloves chopped

Pine nuts or chopped walnuts

1 pound high-quality ground beef or bison (pasture-raised, organic, heritage, etc.)

Two or three eggs, organic at the least

Chopped white, yellow, green, or red onion

Olive oil

1 large can chopped high quality tomatoes (Italian, organic, heritage, etc.)

Basil and oregano

Ricotta cheese

Mozzarella cheese, twelve slices.

Directions

In a deep paella pan, cook bacon until crispy, drain and reserve grease, set aside.

Heat vegetable-stage spices on slightly greasy pan at low heat until aroma strongly emanates, and then re-add bacon grease plus lard to a level of about an inch of hot grease in the pan.

Add chopped vegetables, and cook until transparent, stirring frequently.

Remove vegetables with a slotted spoon to paper towels. Grease can be reserved for something else if it hasn’t yet reached a smoking point, such as would make it bitter.

Place vegetables in a stainless steel bowl, and stir in salt and pepper to taste.

Heat meat-stage spices on slightly greasy pan at low heat until aroma strongly emanates, and then add butter and garlic, stirring frequently, and then add nuts, until all is lightly browned.

Add ground beef, chopping up/crumbling well with stirring implement such as a spatula, until browned.

Place meat in a stainless steel bowl, add salt, pepper. Stir well.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Coat lasagna pan with olive oil.

Lay down four lasagna noodles lengthwise, slightly overlapping. Top with thin layer of about 1/4 of the tomatoes.

Evenly dot tomato layer with half of the ricotta cheese distributed about the pan by the spoonful.

Add one or two eggs to cooled ground beef mixture, half the chopped onions, stir well, and then scoop lightly on top of the ricotta cheese.

The pan should be about a third full. If overfull, remove some filling. If under-full, make it up later.

Top with thin layer of about 1/4 of the tomatoes. Sprinkle lightly with basil and oregano.

Repeat lasagna noodle layer as above, followed by 1/4 of the tomatoes, and remainder of ricotta cheese.

Add remaining egg and chopped onions to cooled vegetable mixture, stir well, and then scoop lightly on top of the ricotta cheese. There must remain about 3/4 inch vacancy at the top of the pan. If overfull, remove some filling.

Crumble bacon slices and then sprinkle the crumbles onto the vegetables.

Repeat lasagna noodle layer, followed by sliced mozzarella cheese, and remaining tomatoes. Sprinkle lightly with basil and oregano.

Tent with aluminum foil with the shiny interior greased with olive oil.

Bake in oven for 30-45 minutes to include optional browning stage by removing aluminum foil for final 10 minutes or so. Turn off oven or turn down to 200 until male animal is hungry. Remove from oven and allow to cool for about 10 minutes prior to serving.

After dinner, have a cigar or something because nothing is going to happen at least until that lasagna is well digested. Clean the kitchen and allow him to reflect on the wondrous, multi-layered, sensual exchange he has just experienced. Change into something comfortable.