The drop off

My father passed away in February 1967 and was buried at Oakwell Cemetery.  My 40 year old mother never remarried.  While we were going to the cemetary over the next few months, from our home in Woodland Hills, we noticed a wonderful park nearby, Chatsworth Park.  That became one of my mother's favorite places to take me for the next few years.  In later years, 1970-73 we used to joke and constantly think about meeting Manson Family members.  Of course the key members were already in prison by that time anyway, and old man Spahn kicked the entire family out in late August 1969 because they set a tractor on fire.  They then moved to Death Valley before the arrests of Manson, Atkins, and others.  So for many years, while we were often thinking about the Manson family just over the hill, they weren't actually there, just boogeymen in our minds.

One time around 1972 we took a long hike up the hill to see Spahn Ranch.  We basically didn't see anything from the top of the hill and decided to turn back, somewhat shaking with fear.

Much later, on August 7, 1979, while I was visiting LA from San Diego, a friend took me and his girlfriend to ride horses at the Spahn Ranch.  My skill with horses was very poor, and my horse never left the front area.  My friend and his girlfriend took off and I didn't see them for an hour.  Before we had left for the ranch that day, he had noted the date and that's why visiting the ranch became the plan for the day.  We were expecting a crowd but were the only ones there.

Sometime before I had even heard the name Manson, and it could have been August 1969*, we took a whole bunch of friends to Chatsworth Park.  I was 13 years old, and this was our biggest BBQ there ever.  I believe our entourage included Canadian born friends from Buena Park on the other side of LA and we might have come from there in several cars.  That time, as I was climbing one of the rocks, a young adult with a Vagrant Jesus look, came and asked me a few questions.  I could tell he was not from LA, his voice sounded country to me.  But to my dismay, he was not some vagrant moron, he was very very smart, and soon had me rhetorically tricked up.  Now I had never used drugs myself, but I had heard one of my best friends talk about them a lot, and I knew the song Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, and so very strangely I decided to try to argue for my cityfried superiority by saying we had better stuff.  He mentioned a whole bunch of names and places in an instant that showed me he knew about those things much better than me and then left, going north.  I never saw if he had talked with anyone else.  I remembered that I had a strange conversation, but never realized it could have been Manson until writing this--because I wasn't thinking about Manson at the time, and was unsure about the timing (*I still am--this could have been as early as 1967 I think now, but previously I had been thinking it was 1963, but putting things together now I see it could not have been earlier than 1967).  Spahn Ranch is about 2 miles from Chatsworth Park.  It's a hilly and interesting climb, but someone knowing the terrain could probably do it in an hour.  The whole hilly area behind the park may be fenced off now, but it wasn't then, there were no fences until about 1973.

It's strange that the one time I might actually have met Manson I wasn't thinking about him or anyone like him, and later thought of him all the time.

My mother had long had an interest, and very loose association (maybe once a decade she attended some meeting) with right wing groups.  But perhaps the most interesting thing we did was travel almost weekly after my father died, to a trailer home my mother had purchased in 1967 with the insurance money from my father's death, and moved to Playa Santa Monica near Rosarito Beach in Baja California, Mexico.  In July 1968 my mother bought a new car, which was then joyously used to take many of my friends to our little home on the beach (we had a beach front lot--something my mother had always dreamed about, for $35 a month).  It was one of those friends who introduced me to the Beatles music, with a tape player he brought with him.  That was the friend who gave me all the background on  sex, drugs, and rock n roll, not that we ever used any drugs together (except sometimes my mother served beer or wine, and once I tried a tobacco cigarette, which gave me the worst buzz ever.  We talked a lot about the sexy girl three trailers over from our corner lot.  But I never had the nerve to even talk to her, and he wasn't doing much better.  But one night when my mother had stepped out, the girl and one of her friends came over.  We had a wonderful visit, but never followed up with more visits after that.  And then, by the summer of 1970 my Fonzie friend with movie star relatives had left Los Angeles.  I never went over to the third trailer until many years later--1984.  The girl wasn't there, but the parents were very nice and made me a drink immediately.  I believe I had a White Russian.

Since the 1990's I've had this strange idea that the one-time visitor, a cousin of the girl from the third trailer (and this was vacation home for them as well as us) is actually someone quite well known and wealthy, and I've recently traced the (presumed) family fortunes to a large increase in 1969.

That visitor might have been an example of someone who might have been closer to the top in the pyramid of connections.  I have no information that would suggest my mother might have been anything but an unwitting courier, and it never seemed she had any money.  She did like right wing and racist rhetoric, though she didn't seek it out much.  But she was still young and gregarious in the 1970's, and also had a Mexican boyfriend, who was a married government official from Mexico City, who himself had a work home in Rosarito Beach; she would meet and dance with him at bars in Rosarito Beach.

My friend who left in the summer of 1970 one time deliberately (or accidentally as he claimed) left a fire cracker on the floor in the back before we went through the border checkpoint.  It was not noticed.

I believe it was July of 1969 that my mother bought me a motorcycle, a Honda 90 (street) to ride the trails in and around the trailer park.  So did all the kids and young adults, including the girl from the third trailer.  Most everyone had a more powerful or dirt ready bike than me, and I was pretty wimpy about not taking the hard climbs.  My fonzie friend would do a bit more than me, but not much more.  We never mixed much with the other kids (who often had beach parties) either, a situation which continued after he left, and then I spent more time at home and with high school friends in LA.  We did spend considerable time with one nice disability retired man and his unmarried daughter, who had moved a whole old house to the trailer park.  We played cards at his house.  Later more and more of the trailers were replaced with custom built houses, high priced custom houses.

Most likely mother and I wouldn't have gone to Chatsworth Park and Mexico in the same week.  But in summertime, we might have.  My mother had a lot of energy.  We could have had BBQ at the park on a Friday afternoon and then driven to Mexico for that night for the weekend, or even an entire week.  I saw the first Man on the Moon on a TV at the beach trailer, a night when our Lutheran minister from Los Angeles was also there visiting us.

My mother was strongly against the use of illegal drugs.  There was little she cared about more.  She wasn't happy about me growing up in a mostly Jewish neighborhood, and surrounded by a culture that seemed to embrace sex, drugs, and rock n roll.  She wanted to move away from LA, and have me go to high school in Mexico, or possibly San Diego.  We never found the right opportunity.  I was perfectly happy with our home in Los Angeles, my friends there, and the schools, and I spent less and less time going to Mexico after the summer of 1970.  None of my remaining friends in LA had much to say about drugs until after high school.  My mother sold our home in 1974, the year after I left for college, and moved to live in Mexico, but work in San Diego, for the next decade.

How Strings are Pulled

One way of looking at the Sharon Tate murders is as a drugland revenge killing.  Manson had previously been the drug connection for and wonder child of rich heiress Abbie Folger, who was one of Tate's murdered guests.  Another guest was a rival drug pusher/connection Voytek, who had taken Manson's place.  Of course, the guests that night (except Tate) were enjoying a psychedic experience themselves...and by design NOT a murderous one.  Perhaps Voytek was supplying clean drugs, without CIA additives--and hypnosis--which came from Manson.  All the same, quite likely CIA could have known, specifically, when Folger and Voytek were there--at Tate's House.  Then they lifted the cage, gave Manson the info.  Manson knew his arch rival, but CIA/FBI had selected Tate.  Why?  She was chosen to have the most impact.  The most beautiful movie starlet they could get.  One specifically targeted at impressionable young boomers.  There may be much more to this than that.  She could have had special knowledge about the RFK assassination in particular, and also the JFK, as I speculated in an earlier post.  There could be a confluence of reasons, which is why the Tate Murders were the first, and the last, as they provided the intended effect, mission accomplished.

Many along these connections might have no idea they were working for a government program.  This almost certainly applies to Manson himself.  Manson was a far right racist kook.  But such views would have been prime material for a program like this.  But to keep Manson from knowing he was part of a government program, there might well be several layers of equally unknowing individuals in between.

They may in fact see their mission, mostly, as undermining "communist" US government, through organizations such as John Birch Society, when actually they are unwittingly part of it...part of a secret program to discredit the counter culture.

So many of the players may have no idea of what they are doing in the overall picture.  They are, for example, just delivering a picture, or an address, or going to a motion picture preview.

But nearer the top, people would have to know more.  Some people just outside of government would just have to know, and be in a position to demand a lot of money for that knowledge.  Such a person might become amazingly rich, starting around 1969.  But there would be few of those, maybe only one, who had the most direct line to J Edgar Hoover.  Many more of whom for which this was just a free movie show, or a meeting with a fellow right wing racist kook in a park.  As a general rule, the people on the right wing populist side were government aligned.  The people on the lefter side were not, generally, though some high key players (and likely drug pushers, hard drugs esp have been supplied through intelligence agencies as their way of controlling intellgence sources) had to be pretty left-wing friendly--and that's where knowledge and potential profits from this enterprise often would increase.  Ugly guy like Manson knows nothing but does the business, smiling guy who designs the whole plan walks home with millions, and starts a billion dollar business.

Ending the counterculture

There is a well established thread that goes like this.  Government agencies in the late 1960's began cooperating on project to end the antiwar, leftist, and drug liberationist counterculture.  The scale was enormous.  The ultimate achievement which more than anything ended the anything-goes era was the Tate Murders.  While Tex Watson may have held the gun, and some poor deluded women like Susan Atkins the knives after being programmed by Manson (himself trained in hypnosis and likely supplied with LSD by the CIA through programs such as CHAOS and MKULTRA) strings were being pulled from way back in Washington DC.

Like many boomers, I was a very impressionable 13 years old when the Tate Murders occurred.  Just about that time I had been having my first failing episodes with girls.  A friend of mine had been talking a lot about sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll (in fact, he introduced me to The Beatles with a cassette tape of The White Album in...1969.

After the Tate murders, things couldn't have been more different for me.  Strangely coincident,  my drug talking friend moved away in the summer of 1970 and I've only barely seen him since...he seems like a different person.  I was anything but interested in drugs (perhaps not in tune with much of the times) during High School.  It was a ivy league college interviewer who after listening to my straight-laced monolog walked away telling me "You will use drugs in college and will think very differently."  He was right.  But if it hadn't been for the Sharon Tate murders (and, well if my friend--himself related to drug using hollywood liberals--hadn't suddenly moved away--possibly from fear of further Tate Murders) my first use of drugs and thinking differently might have started in 1971 instead of 1974.  For other such impressionables as myself, those hinge points may have never happened--in wake of the Tate Murders.

Because of my life not far from Hollywood (in Woodland Hills, en route from Spahn Ranch to Cielo Vista Drive, btw) I might have been more impacted than most.  But many have seen and reasoned the same things...the Tate Murders were planned as or resulted from the plan to end the 1960's counterculture.  And they had much of the intended effect.

Here's a resource on these ideas, which doesn't quite endorse them.

Basic Principle of Life

It would seem that my friend, especially, lives by the basic principle that suffering toil is essential.  Some might go further and see it as rewarded in heaven, etc.  My friend sees duty, obligation.  Play, which our relationship represents, comes after all other things, if at all.

I concede to some trappings of this way of thinking.  But it seems a better principle to me that time is all there is.  Each moment is for the savoring, not the saving.  Every waking moment is part of the play, the dance of life.

I hope she can leave the church of perpetual responsibility.  Not only does play come last, but in some sense there is no play.  Even in play there is the responsiblity to shape others toward the most responsible behavior, such as getting things done earlier.  The shaping of behavior seems to have higher priority than actually just having as much as possible time together--which is always good time.

There has always been some momentary relaxation from perpetual responsibility.  But I wonder if that hasn't been decreasing.

Believe me, good things do not often, or even usually, come from suffering of any kind, and that of perpetual responsibility.  Any and all paid work is first and foremost working for existing wealth and property.  If one could be replaced by another to do the same job, then hold a job may be keeping someone else who could do the same job unemployed.  Insisting on being a wage slave (as opposed to marriage serf) drives down the wages of labor, and reduces the time we have to spend with each other to almost nothing.

Turn back now.  Start living every day.  See the benefits in the present.

One easy way would be to give up the myth of independence.  Instead, choose the best dependency.  Choose me.

How much sex

Anonoymous has asked if I had sought help for my sex addiction.

Will get to that in a moment.  First, how much sex is best?  Well I can only speak for masturbation.  I can go 2 or so hours at a time, several times a day.  Most often there isn't enough time to squeeze in as much masturbation as I would like.

I feel our future is to be more dominated by sexual pleasure.  Sex is relatively carbon neutral compare with most modern entertainment activities.  It requires few material resources.  It is good exercise.  Why not 8 hours a day?

Beyond about 10, it gets to be a drag.

But mostly in my life I have gotten by with an hour or so of masturbation daily, though often many more on weekends.

I feel that this has kept me relatively young for my age.  It is a fine, and important source of male exercise, and males should get several ejaculations per week regardless of what their females want.  So masterbation makes up the gap.

In order to be considered an addiction by medical professionals,* something is shown to be seriously harmful to health or other essential activities like work or sleeping.  I would say masturbation has helped keeped my mind clear.  It is excercise and largely beneficial to health.*  I am have a successful career, a home, and lady friends, so it does not appear to be interfereing with essential activities.  I have a full time job and host a party every month, and have as many dates with my most special lady friend as often as she is available.  I have been keeping my front lawn mowed and beautiful (first time in my life) these days.

I do wish my relationships with women resulted in more sex.  But they don't seem to have much time or interest in that.

So who is to keep me satisfied then?  And how often should I do it?  Well I'd say as I want and I can, without hurting anything else.  (So blank off, you puritans, who worry someone may be having too much pleasure somewhere.)  This blog is all about convincing people that lots of hours of intimacy is a very good thing.  Maybe more of that will trickle back to me one day.

I have found the cure for my cracking circumsized glans and hours of masturbation.  Vaseline.  One coat of vaseline may work for 6 hours if not wiped off.  I suspect this is not good for heterosexual intercourse.

But I now find it very interesting that Sharon Tate, sexiest woman ever, and a quickly rising star, used vaseline as her lipstick.  It does make one think about oral sex.

Anyway, I see the future as less mechanized transport, less stuff generally, and just us people.  And the best thing we can do much of the time, would be intimacy, minimally, comfort, and sex.  And that may be what we will be spending most of our time doing.  And it would be good, in many ways better than now, though we might miss some aspect of the old world of missing distances, and probably not so much the endless stuff, but perhaps some of it.

WRT my doctor, she sees sex addiction mainly as the situation where a person tends to get VD or other ailments from too much sex with other people...another matter altogether.  They just can't stop picking up new partners.  (I haven't had a new partner in years.)

I tend to think if I had a vast array of partners, I'd rather it be a harem.  Or if not that, a regulated brothel.  And not random people I meet on the subway.

But there is something to be said for that subway thing too.  I've had interesting conversations on subways, though none led to sex.  I wouldn't mind living in a world where, they just could, even if you walked up to the sexiest woman.  It does sound cool in a way.  Now if I were very hot sex object, I could just pick 'em up, I suppose, perhaps, maybe, quickly enough.

That is not at all like the world I have lived in.  Hard enough to start a conversation.  Mostly impossible, actually.  And then, to get anything out of that.  And then, and so on.

In my experience, the road to sex (with another person) is 10,000 steps, a tall mountain climb, during which at any time you can frequently slide backwards so as to have to start over.  No easy matter.  Not even possible except with very very few even then.

I think a more sex filled cuture would be safe if people were rational and had the right medical support.

I think we need a more sex filled culture, again the point of this blog.

Sharon Tate Sexiest Woman Ever

Sharon Tate would be my nomination for sexiest woman who ever lived.  I only remembered this week, when I saw a clip from the Beverly Hillbillies episode Jethro's First Love.  Janet Trego, played by Sharon Tate, had been getting closer and closer to Jethro as Jethro was trying to hear the sound of  true love.  Quickly pushing the two apart, Jane Hathaway says to Janet "I'll meet you in the pool."  "But we don't have a pool, Miss Hathaway," replies Janet.  "The secretarial pool" says Jane as she pushes Janet out the door and quickly wraps her own arm around Jethro for an momentary embrace.

Those lines were burned into my memory, I know for sure, even if I couldn't remember who played Janet Trego, or even that the character was named Janet Trego.  I am sure I saw that scene many times, as Beverly Hillbillies was my favorite show, ever, bar none.  And this particular scene my favorite scene.  I'm not exactly sure if I saw it when it originally aired in 1962, but I might have.  I certainly saw it later.  I might have even seen it, sometime after the murders, when somebody (perhaps the announcer, or maybe my sister) pointed out to me that the girl was played by Sharon Tate, who by then I knew had been murdered by the Manson Family.  I might have really been really really sad for a moment.  I remember something like that.  But then I quickly forgot who Sharon Tate was, as much as when I first heard the name Sharon Tate, it had unfortunately only been in connection with the murders, and at that time I figured Sharon Tate was some actress in old movies I had never seen.  And that had been my default thought about Sharon Tate, until the last couple weeks, and especially this week seeing that scene from the Beverly Hillbillies.

I also got a DVD of Valley of the Dolls, and just watching on scene with the character played by Sharon, the whiff of pure sexiness that I got from the Beverly Hillbillies reveals itself to be no momentary chimera.  She just does everything in the most sexy possible way, with perfect rhythm too.  She also seems like the perfect actress.  She reminds me a lot of Lindsay Wagner, just a lot sexier.

What a terrible tragedy that we lost this beautiful and supremely talented woman near the beginning of what could have been the grandest of movie careers.

As with being Jethro's 'first love,' that lady teller was the first girl on TV I remember falling in love with that was not a cartoon.  And yet, until the last two weeks, I couldn't have placed her name with the face.

What brought me to this was very strange.  I was at the 6th Floor Museum in Dallas, Texas, and I noticed the book about the JFK assassination by Vincent Bugliosi.  Having read his writings on the Bush v Gore election, and the War in Iraq, I have felt him to be the best of writers, and astute analysts.  But it puzzles me how anyone could believe in the still official Warren Report conclusions, that Oswald acted alone, and there was no conspiracy.  Actually, the US Congress reported in the 1970's that there was a conspiracy of some kind, but they couldn't decide any more than that.  Anyway, the Museum seems to push the Warren Commission line, and so does Bugliosi.  It seems Bugliosi goes as far as dismissing all the JFK conspiratorialists as insane or crookedly trying to make money.

That suddenly gave me an entirely different view about Bugliosi.  And if I can't trust his judgement on the JFK book which took him 21 years to write (starting, btw, in 1967, before the Sharon Tate murders), can I trust him on something else, which he whipped out much quicker in fact, the official prosecution of Charles Manson and the book Helter Skelter?  I'm sorry to say right now I'm not sure I trust any of it.

Sharon Tate herself was not outside the political whirlwinds of the 1960's.  She was a supporter of Robert Kennedy in 1968 and met the Senator and his wife the day before he was killed in Los Angeles.

OK, I don't want to get too conspiratorial just yet, but that's interesting.  It might have been more interesting had she actually been at the Ambassador Hotel...but I have not seen that mentioned.

Tate also came to Hollywood around 1961 from Dallas, where she had won at least one beauty pagent. That was the city JFK was assassinated in, two years later.  I wonder if she had gone back to Dallas then or any preceding time?  You would think she would have some interest in both assassinations.

Perhaps she didn't meet individuals who might have been JFK or RFK conspirators, though a colonel's daughter, beauty pagent winner, and grande dam of Hollywood would have been much more likely to have such access than the average joe.  But having been close to both crimes, she certainly must have had some feel for how people there felt, in general.  Along with one of the most brilliant directors in movie history, she could have had some revealing visions of these scenes that would be useful to a brilliant director, and could have been world changing for us.  I for one did not know until the 2000's that there was pungent hatred of Kennedy in some quarters of Dallas.  And now I know names such as HL Hunt and Gen. Walker, who were known to have extreme hatred of Kennedy, and have often been spun into conspiracy theories.

But some people might not have liked that idea, of so revealing of a film.  It might get in the way of the new conservative revolution.

Another thing some people might not have liked about the future grand lady of cinema was her identity.  A beautiful, sexy, white southern liberal.  As we know, that wasn't the way the south split, but that was largely after her murder.  Southern white democrats en masse (but not en toto) gave up any pretense of new dealism and became racist conservatives.

Manson was not of the political stripe to appreciate liberals like Tate (and nor was Oswald of the political stripe to appreciate Kennedy IMO...though an actual Communist would have).  But could any heterosexual man have ordered the murder of such a beautiful woman?

It's much easier to believe that a false flag queer like J Edgar Hoover might have.  And he might have had motives, also, strong motives, related to his corrupt mafia connections and involvement in coverups related to the two assassinations.  Along with motives...it's easy to imagine he just didn't like that type (or her husband), and want them not to get the upper hand.

What would Sharon Tate do?  Somehow I find it hard to not see her smiling.  So I think that's what we must do, always.

*****

People have forgotten how cynical we were in the aftermath of the Kennedy assassinations, the War in Vietnam, and so on.  In 1969 absolutely no one believed the Warren Commission Report.  I remember a buddy in my Junior High School (in Los Angeles!) telling me, "Bugliosi just didn't want to get scooped on the ultimate JFK assassination movie."  So he assassinates the wife of a fellow Angelino, and gets to prosecute the case as well, nailing some cultivated nutcase who actually believes he programmed some women to do the deed?  That's how cynical we were about LA and big names in LA and everywhere.  But the image of the FBI had not yet begun to fade.  Or at least I recall circa 1967 arriving in the living room of some relatives in Montana, the marque of the program "The FBI" appeared and the room full of people, including me, applauded, I though it was a reflection of our feeling of support for the agency as well as the TV program, which might have been a welcome change.

*****

I'm sure some of my friends would say it's much easier to conclude that Bugliosi is not some sort of master conspirator, just not as competent as he thinks.  He's a great prosecutor, and part of that job is leaving little or know doubt.  But this is not the scientific orientation, which ought to concede that doubt is always there.  But still, he could easily be stupid about JFK and absolutely square about Manson, because of not weighing the doubts properly.

Bugliosi looks at evidence.  Fine.  But if evidence is tampered with by a higher power, what good is that?  That may be especially true in the case of the JFK assassination, where the most important evidence was shipped back to Washington DC almost immediately.

*****

Regardless of Hoover's guilt in the Tate murders and/or related coverup (often Hoover's actual charge and expertise), Hoover has condemned millions to die and billions to suffer in the War on Drugs.  Hoover was behind the federalization of drug prohibition.  The war on drugs has done far more harm than good and continues to this day.  Worldwide the drug war is easily seen as a war on poor people.  Then look at the USA and you see the same thing.  Drugs should be legal and regulated, and taxed to support free and guilt-free treatment.

The War on Drugs supports both a police state (more money for Hoover) and more money for organized crime (many of Hoover's friends).  It was born in corruption, disguised as public hygene, sold throough sensationalized media.

The prohibition of prostitution is another very socially harmful policy.  Prostitution should be legal and regulated.  And pay for sex should not be looked down on.  I am happy to pay to get more of what I want.

A male friend dismissing the Marriage contract proclaimed (as if were the ultimate put down) "Marriage is just prostitution."

I meant to say "And that's the best part of it."

the nutshell

Civilization is made to begin because of women's power to be selective, to say no.  Women's power to be selective arises because they have limited slots to bear children.  A man has no such limit fundamentally, one man could father all the children...Wahah!...but then so could any other man.  So that deprives men individually of the most powerful negotiating position, the power to say no.  Also driven by the male role, men don't want to say no.  See Pinker's classic How the Mind Works.

A female dominated society, then, drives to near total sexual abstinence, as  No becomes all.  One of my friends claims (and he knows a lot about these sorts of things) that there were no pre-modern amazon civilizations, with female warriors and so on.  Amazon organizations have only been tribal, and female warriors have only dominated when the men had died off.


Now the pre-civilized era may well of

Civilization arises to seek the Yes.  Civlization, HIStory, is all about the ways Yes is catalyzed, through dogma, ritual, dependence, and so on.  Some of these ways not so pretty.

Older civlizations were quite explicit about their providing power (though not labeled compensatory) to men over women.

In modern society, we seek equal rights for all (which I would not waver from).  Unfortunately, that brings us back to No.

But then traditionalists, male pigs, bring back the old religion (or worse, actually).  So, as it works for them, that brings them peculiarly the forced Yes, leading to greater birthing of traditionalists, and so on, back to hell.

We on the civil liberties side need to compete--but our way.  We have to have our own ways of seeking Yes.

One thing, we need to go all the way with liberalization, and legalize (and regulate) prostitution.

Prostitution, or any form of companionship for hire, should be available ubiquitously.  And it will be mostly men paying.

The best sexual role model for the post boom human is the bonobo--they have sex constantly.  That's how we most satisfyingly and least materially occupy our leisure time.

And we need to drop the bad argument that wage slavery is necessarily superior to marital feudalism.

Marital feudalism is the arrangement under which liberal society arose, and it remained dominant since the 1960's.  Not coincidentally, just as marital feudalism became replaced by mutual wage slavery, traditional extremism arose and became the dominant force in US society, at least.

Desperado

I llike the Eagles song.  But for atleast the second half of my life so far, it's not really about me.  It's the song about all the ladies I've known (including my mother, but not my sister, who knew better).

The life of an independent wage slave is hell.  The life of two wage slaves living together could be even worse.Even at best, it's no picnic.

Somebody needs to take the other role.  This was obvious before home appliances.  But it's still true, now more than ever.

I'm not saying this has to be the female.  It varies.

Amy Luna

Saw the Sexcellence presentation by Amy.  Truly excellent.  You can see it at AmyLuna.com/events.

relax

The relaxed mind is the one that can think.

And share and enjoy sex.

no touching

I would so much like to love someone, someone like the lady I've now spent 9 hours with over two days at the Mensa AG.  Love could just be listening, I suppose, and I thought I did that fairly well.  She talked about 90% of the time.  I don't mind that anymore, necessarily.  It takes the burden off me of figuring what to say from moment to moment.  And see seemed very compatible with my like and dislikes, and my politics (which is very important to me, and seemed to be to her as well).

But I wanted at least to touch, touch her hand, rub her arm, rub her back and neck just like I do with my #1 friend and main squeeze.  It seemed clear to me that she needed love, and almost as clear that she wanted to be another special friend, someone I could at least hug, THE thing to do at RG's.

She offered her hand when we first met the second day, but I took the initiative (which often works) of going for the hug.  It was only a one or two second hug because it seemed pretty quickly it was making her uncomfortable.  And then when I asked on the second day if I could hold her hand, she looked puzzled, then said yes, but then when I tried to show more affection she said no.  She didn't respond positively to back or neck rub was we were sitting next to each just before the fireworks either.  For my own support I needed to lean my arm behind her, but though she didn't seem to take offense when our legs touched, it was beginning to seem she systematically slid down the grassy slope whenever by arm touched her back.

So when we parted, and she offered her hand and said "maybe I'll see you tomorrow", and I said "OK.  Take care." and we shook hands only briefly, and I didn't even try for a hug.

I suppose I shouldn't have felt hurt, she's a nice lady, could be a nice friend, and she did nothing wrong.

But I did feel hurt, I was hoping for more, I think we could have both used more love and affection.

It seems like the story of my life, in 57 years it seems like I'm getting no closer to having an actual heterosexual orgasm in my lifetime.  99% of the time, even after some serious attempting, I don't get to touch any more than I would touch my boss.  Now I wasn't expecting to get to sex with this lady during this RG, but I thought about it a few times.  Sometimes but only in the distant past like 35 years ago did I have dates where the woman seemed too forward about going to intercourse even to the point of making me uncomfortable.  So it is possible for a woman to go too fast for me.  So all I was seriously hoping for was some time for affection of the hand holding, back and neck rubbing kind.  That would have been especially nice with this lady, whose large bosom made my heart pound, especially before we had our first conversations on Tuesday.  I could be touching a lady who strongly turned me on.  Even without anything close to sexual intercourse, this would be a huge step forward for my self esteem as well as my male drive.

I was feeling mixed messaging, like she did really want to be touched, but I was wrong.

It was funny about how she apologized several times, or rationalized having the two extra guys on our walk to the river for fireworks tonight.  They were guys she met in Europe.  I was not put off by that at all, and I'm not sure why I should have been.  So I was taking this as a message "well I would like to do more later, but we need these guys for navigation now."  I even wondered beforehand if she had more interest in the guys than me.  But they were not getting in my way at all, especially by the time we sat down.  Why would she have to apologize if we were just friends?

That was just one of several communications that suggested to me that she wanted to do more than just talk.  Most of them were non-verbal.

It does seem to me that women could do much more, for themselves and others, simply by saying yes a bit more often.  Sure I can't blame any woman for not submitting to me.  So this is a kind-of collective thing.  Why haven't any of them been able to do more?  It's not like I haven't tried, I've spent my whole life trying.  But there's no lady who deserves punishment or even reprimand for this, and I have no answers either.  The only world which I would choose to be this way would be the one in which I change it.  I hope I find an answer someday.  But I really just need the answer for me.

I have recently been thinking, that if love were the only thing I wanted, I would have been much better off being a dog.  M and I talked about dogs, and she said a dog needs to be walked 3 times a day, which she did.  Doesn't a man need something too?