Jun 262015
On Thu, Jun 25, 2015 at 7:49 PM, MyBoy wrote:
I’m fooling around with video editing and working to become proficient making animated GIFs by lifting frames from movies. If you have any ideas for something you’d like to use on your blog, I’d be happy to try and make one for you.
You are likely very proficient at this kind of thing already, and my early attempts are bound to be crude. So, any requests you make would be doing me a favor as I need the practice.
j chat icon
On Thu, Jun 25, 2015 at at 9:06 PM, D wrote:
Of course I’m already proficient at this kind of thing. chat-smug
I made a humping dog to illustrate ugly sex blog meme badges, and I made a bumble ball to illustrate weird orgasms.
hover for gif-tastic animation
Ok… now I’m curious. Why on earth do you need to learn how to make GIFs?
dd chat icon
On Thu, Jun 25, 2015 at 11:16 PM, MyBoy wrote:
Well, I saw a few BDSM porn GIFs on Tumblr I thought were slick. And by ‘a few’ I mean 5%. I like the way certain pics/GIFs look next to erotica and was looking into what it takes to make them. Just a random thing.
I don’t think smut ‘has to have’ the images, but sometimes it’s effective. *shrug*
Alright, if you should change your mind for whatever reason, please let me know.
j chat icon
On Thu, Jun 25, 2015 at at 11:46 PM, D wrote:
That exchange roughly illustrates our essential differences. chat-smile
You don’t know how to do something, but you appreciate how it could be used to increase the effectiveness of hot, sexy, wordy porn stuff.
I do know how to do the thing, and I use my skills to make a dog hump a Pokemon toy (in perpetuity) and illustrate “orgasms are weird!” with a 25 year old toddler toy.
Hey, at least we’re both going to jerk off tonight…. amirite? chat-laughing
dd chat icon


Jun 222015

J and I are trying to untangle an amorphous snarl of hurt feelings, miscommunications, and mismatched expectations related to the relationship (past, present, and future). Yeah… we’re still something.

That something? I’m not sure what to call it. It’s a relationship where we’re broken up without a break up, in a situation where  we’re physically separate, but not emotionally separated. We’re not together, but not apart. We’re both single, but not looking* because we’re still in love (but doomed).

What do you call that? A mess? Sure. But it’s the mess we find ourselves in. It’s one we’ve been in, but I’ve been hesitant to talk about because I’m not sure how to talk about it, because there’s so much unresolved, and because it’s probably boring to read about.

Recently, he hit an emotional breaking point because I’ve been distant. I’ve been distant because he’s not handled my feelings well since he left. (How’s that for vague?)

Anyway, I’ve had a recurring dream since he left — not a single dream, but variations on a theme. The details of the dreams that remain constant are that it’s always he and I, alone together, in an otherwise empty space.

In the weeks right after he left…
I dream of fucking him on a couch in a big empty room (in a big empty house).  The house is unfamiliar — it isn’t his or mine — and it’s not clear who is moving out, or moving in, or whether we are moving separately or together.
As the months passed…
The dream evolves into one that begins with us in an elevator going down. We are leaving some sort of party (not a loud boisterous celebration, but a dark room filled with sweaty bodies twisting against one another). The elevator doors open into a massive, dimly lit, empty industrial space. We take a few steps into the room before I turn, back him into a wall, and maul him. There is no sex, but lots of hungry kisses and crude groping. When he tries to move away from the wall, I shove him back, wrench his head to get at his mouth, and maul him again.
That dream morphed into…
I find him seated at a huge dining table, set up for a banquet or reception, only in medieval times (I blame binge watching Game of Thrones for that). He is the only one in the room. I pull back his chair, unzip his pants, and pull his cock free. Lifting my skirt, I straddle him, slip his cock inside me and start grinding. Neither one of us speaks, but we both know we have to fuck quickly before anyone else enters the room.


In hindsight, I realize these dreams come in the days following some sort of emotional turmoil or tension between us (happy, hot tension or sad and frustrated stuff). In our most recent tangle, I sent a long, painstakingly written (emotionally draining) letter.

The dream shifted again…
We are outdoors on a massive stone staircase, looking down. It’s unclear what’s below and what’s above — there are concrete steps and nothing more. I stand; he is seated next to my feet. He reaches up, wraps his arms around my waist, and rests his head against my hip.
He asks if I feel him, if I can feel his arms around me, if I can feel his weight against mine.
“Of course,” I tell him… but it’s not true.
I see him there — he is flesh and bone and blood — but I can’t feel him.

fading couple on stone staircase

* Also, I can’t speak for him, but I’m not looking because I’m not interested in dating, fucking, or finding another partner right now. It’s just not on my “things to do” list.
Composite based on “Stairs, Temple” by Unsplash, (2013). Work licensed under a CC0 1.0 Universal (CC0 1.0) Public Domain Dedication.
Jun 192015
Elliot Roger | UC Santa Barbara Dylann Roof | Emanuel AME Church
MAY 23, 2014 | 6 DEAD, 14 INJURED JUNE 17, 2015 | 9 DEAD
Everyone: I guess we’ll never know why he did it.
Shooter: I did it because I hate women.
“Women are vicious, evil, barbaric animals, and they need to be treated as such.”
Everyone: I guess we’ll never know.
Everyone: I guess we’ll never know why he did it.
Shooter: I did it because I hate black people.
“I have to do it. You’re raping our women and taking over the country. You have to go.”
Everyone: I guess we’ll never know.

based on Tweet by @MaryTylerMog


Mental illness alone didn’t prompt Elliot Roger and Dylann Roof to take innocent lives. Both killers had a worldview, a rationale, and a target population. Roger did it because he hated women, and Roof did it because he hates black people. But hate isn’t a mental illness — it’s an ideology. Misogyny and racism aren’t unique ideologies of lone men — they’re deeply entrenched, pervasive cultural systems that shape the worldviews of significant populations. Because Roger and Roof are both products of larger systems, neither man’s violence can be dismissed as the singular action of an unstable person.

I’m glad to see people getting on top of the dialogue and framing what happened at Emanuel AME as what it is: a racist hate crime and an act of domestic terrorism. While some part of me understands the calls to refrain from politicizing — people are dead; families and communities are mourning — it seems impossible because the massacre at Emanuel AME was political.

Dylann Roof intended to make a political statement. After he was caught, Roof told investigators the same thing he told friends over the past six months — he wanted to start a race war. Refusing to acknowledge his intent denies the existence of racism as a political issue, and depoliticizing racism wont make it go away.

Using a racist hate crime to talk about racism is appropriate. Using this particular massacre to talk about gun control is understandable (since a gun was used to end nine people’s lives). But calling it an “attack on faith” to promote the myth of Christian persecution is inexcusable.

fox-friends-attack-on-faithInexcusable, you say? Cue Fox News…

Yesterday on Fox & Friends, the humanoid trio of styrofoam packing peanuts feigned concern and framed the attack as one on Christians. They spoke to Bishop E. W. Jackson — a black man/minister/failed politician/conservative commentator — who cautioned against assuming a racial motivation, instead pointing to imaginary faith-based motivations for violence against Christians.

Jackson wants to arm congregations (with actual fucking firearms) in preparation for faith-based hate crimes. Seriously. I’m not making this up. If it weren’t Fox News, you’d think it was satire…


“Last night’s deadly attack taking place at an historic church in South Carolina, the gunman’s horrifying attack on faith killing 9 people, including a famed pastor. So, if we’re not safe in our own churches, then where are we safe?”
– Elizabeth Hasselback, Survivor contestant/View co-host, NFL wife
“…I am deeply concerned this gunman chose to go into a church, because there does seem to be a rising hostility against Christians across this country because of our biblical views. And, I just think it’s something we have to be aware of and not create an atmosphere where people take out their violent intentions against Christians.”
– BISHOP E.W. JACKSON, minister, politician, conservative talking head
“…extraordinarily they called it a hate crime — uhhh, and some look at it, because it was a white guy, apparently, and a black church, uhh, but you made a great point just a moment ago about the hostility towards Christians, so — and it was a church! So, maybe that’s what their talking about. They haven’t explained it to us.”
– STEVE DOUCHEY, BS in Journalism, human silly putty


Video above (3:57); Full transcript available on DailyKos.

Jun 152015


Since I’m only sadistic with willing partners, GoT season finale spoilers are hidden inside a clicky thingy. You may safely read on if you haven’t seen it yet.

I’m not into fiction (not literature, television, or film) but I enjoy reading about fiction. Maybe that makes me a meta-consumer — a consumer of media about media.

The amateur deconstructionist in me enjoys learning about the process of creating media and hearing people’s thoughts about the finished products. I’m into the nuts and bolts — the material (the scripts, locations, costumes, actors, framing, and editing that literally created the thing) and the cultural (the issues, attitudes, and various systems that affect [and are affected by] the thing).

I’ve been reading about Game of Thrones since it came across my radar years ago, but only started watching it recently. After finding myself with some unstructured time and stumbling onto the HBO Go app, I watched the first episode a few weeks ago, burned through seasons 1 through 4 fairly quickly, and I’ve been watching along with season 5 episodes on Sunday nights (or Monday mornings).

I wouldn’t call myself a fangirl, but I like it enough to continue watching… and continue reading the surrounding commentary. The screen writers’ interviews, reader theories, book/series comparisons, behind the scenes extras about set design, shooting locations, and CGI… it’s all really interesting.

Case in point: Sansa was raped. That was interesting. About that…

I didn’t like the scene — not because I love Sansa’s character, not because I was outraged or disgusted, and not because I think depictions of rape should be censored. I didn’t like it because it wasn’t clear (to me) what purpose it served. We already knew Ramsay was an evil motherfucker, and Sansa was already sympathetic (tragic?). While the scene was in character, it didn’t tell us anything new (about them).

Spoilers Hidden: Click to Expand

I was (and still am) open to the possibility that the scene served some purpose yet to be determined. However, after watching the season finale, I’m still thinking it the scene serves Theon (albeit weakly). In “Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken” (s5/e6), when the camera pans away from the rape-in-progress, the trauma the audience witnesses is Theon’s, not Sansa’s. That trauma (Theon’s) certainly contributed to his testicular regeneration in “Mother’s Mercy” (s5/e10).
In the season finale, Theon finally (re)grows a pair. Sansa sets out to leave Winterfell and meets with Myranda, Myranda’s crossbow, and Myranda’s crossbowingly persuasive suggestion that Sansa return to her quarters (and Ramsay’s sadistic control). Sansa’s resolve is steely, but Myranda’s arrow is pointy. As Myranda raises her weapon, Theon knocks her off the raised walkway — killing her, saving Sansa, and redeeming himself. So far, it looks like Theon’s redemption comes courtesy of Sansa’s rape. I suspected that, but I wasn’t the only one.

Immediately following Sansa’s rape, a lot of people expressed similar feelings in thoughtful, nuanced, opinionated reviews and essays. Other people tweeted — a lot of people — and those tweets weren’t so nuanced or thoughtful.

claire-mccaskill-tweetSenator Claire McCaskill (D, MI) is a representative example.

People said the show went too far, the rape was gratuitous, disgusting, unnecessary (etc., ad infinitum). People tweeted complaints to the writers and I’m sure HBO fielded complaints too. No doubt, there were probably some calls for actual censorship, but for the most part, there were just lot of angry tweets and a few thoughtful essays.

That was the Sansa Rape Backlash.

That backlash spurred its own backlash (the Backlash Over the Backlash, or perhaps the Outrage Over the Outrage). Many sentiments were variations on the following:

If you don’t like it, don’t watch it.
Why didn’t you care about all the other rapes, murders, and torture?
It’s fantasy. It’s fiction. Nobody actually got raped, so STFU.
Instead of tweeting about fictional rape, why don’t you do something about actual rape?

If we’re awarding points for the better backlash, I’m going to give it to the initial backlash. The second one — the backlash against the backlash — needs work.

Sure, GoT is fiction, and people have opinions about fiction. It’s art, goddammit, and that’s what art is for[1] — it inspires discussion, debate, and critique. So… do that. Debate the merits of the art, the fiction, or the fictional rape. Discuss it’s necessity, function, purpose, meaning…. all of that.

But if you’d like to critique the critiques instead, by all means, go right ahead. But please, for fuck’s sake, try to do it well.

trogdor-the-burninator-img“Shut up” is not an argument. Asking why someone didn’t care about other fictional violence (or actual violence) isn’t an argument. Telling critics that if they really cared about rape, they should do something about actual rape isn’t an argument. Reminding people that GoT is fiction isn’t an argument. Telling people that if they don’t like it, they shouldn’t watch it isn’t an argument. They’re all non sequitur.[2]

Oh… and to the armchair historians and pop anthropologists… Stating that rape was commonplace “back then,” or that non-consensual sex within marriage wasn’t considered rape “back then,” isn’t an argument either.

The Sansa rape backlash was not about what would or would not have happened in the late medieval period. The backlash was about the use and depiction of rape in an episode of a fantasy television series in 2015.

Sure, if we ignore the dragons, GoT is loosely based on the late medieval period[3]. But clearly, the writers and producers make a number of choices that deviate from historical accuracy… like the absence of pubic hair, pit stains, and leprosy. The writers and producers make choices about what to show and how to show it (otherwise, you’d see a lot more characters taking dumps in chamber pots).

And here, I guess I’m backlashing against the backlash over the backlash. The irony is not lost on me.

My point, if I have one, is that GoT is art and art encourages discussion, debate, strong feelings… all of that.

Don’t like discussion? Then don’t read it. (heh)


[1] For the love of the Old Gods and the New, I’m not looking for a discussion about the nature and/or the purpose/s of art.
[2] Ok… maybe technically, those are arguments, but they aren’t good ones. Logical fallacies aren’t valid arguments.
[3] I think? Actually… who cares. Say it was loosely based on the early Jurassic period. My argument still stands. (also, dragons > dinosaurs = FACT)
Jun 032015

I keep a box of crayons in my office — a Crayola 24 pack. It was an office supply store impulse buy I threw into my basket after shopping for hanging file folders, good highlighters, and a sturdy three hole punch. The unopened box sits unused and on display, a few bright colors on a bookshelf otherwise composed of neutral pages and dark jewel-toned spines. It’s been there since I got my job — a reminder to break from complication and look for happiness in simple things.


Last night I dreamed of sitting down across the table from a stack paper. I can’t remember my intention, but I do recall the timeless joy that accompanies opening a brand new box of crayons.

After opening the box, carefully, I slid all 24 onto the table (crayons are best worn down, not broken) and looked for “cornflower blue.” The name confused me as a child because the flowers I knew grew in shades of red, pink, white, and yellow (not blue), and I wasn’t sure such a plant existed.

I know it now, of course, but twisting the crayon between my fingers, I discovered the color was no longer called cornflower blue — it was called nostalgia.

A darker shade was ambivalence. A lighter one, shame. It’s greener cousin was remorse.

The purple shades were uncertainty and frustration. The pinks, hurt and irritation.

“Terrible names,” I thought — the colors were shades of insecurity, hues of heartache, a spectrum of sad tints and melancholy tones. I remember thinking “I can’t color anything with these.”



Composite image by Dumb Domme (a.k.a. “The Pixel Pusher”)