Sunny Days in DC

Jack of All Trades, Master of 3-ish.

Why the Kink World is So Angry About the 50 Shades of Grey Movie, or… “Hey, I Bet A Bunch of People Are Gonna Die.”

The global BDSM scene is heaving a (probably corseted) sigh of frustration as of late. I’ve been in the Scene for just about 10 years, which is long enough for me to be able to say that I absolutely do not speak for everyone. I speak for myself and my experiences. And in my experience, very few people are suddenly aware of sites like Fetlife, or are born knowing that they enjoy rope bondage more than a thuddy flogging. Most of us come (ha!) to the world of kink either through a friend, or through media. Things like websites, movies, literature… when you’re sitting in a movie theater and the sight of a man or a woman tied down to a chair does more for you than for pretty much everyone around you, you tend to be curious as to why. So you look, you communicate with others, and you realize that there is a whole world of people just like you (or worse!), and they like it dirty!

So no, I’m not opposed to a film supposedly about BDSM. I even welcome the discussions about sex, both “vanilla” and kink, about consent, about age, about what is still taboo in our culture, that this film will inevitably bring. What I, and most people I know from the Scene, find most upsetting, is the Disneyfication of who we are and what we do.

And it’s very, very dangerous. Like, fucking LIFE OR DEATH.

Having never actually read 50 Shades of Gray, I’m going to make a few assumptions, but please do let me know if I’m wrong. Based on what I’ve heard, a young virgin falls for an older, wealthy, kinky dude, and he “lures” her into his lifestyle. So, right off the bat, the kinky person is devilish and dark. Ok, fine, sure, I know heaps of people in the Scene who wear mostly black and like to meet younger, less experienced people. But, where’s the talk about consent? What about education? What about CIRCULATION?!

Not exactly clear on what I’m talking about? Well folks, on average, most “riggers” (that would be, people who suspend others by rope or other means) spend HOURS AND HOURS learning how to do it properly. Let me amend that: YEARS. I know people who have spent YEARS learning. Even tying someone to a chair can end badly if that person has circulatory issues. There is preparation, there are ‘back-up plans,’ and yes, there are MOTHERFUCKING SAFETY WORDS.

Guess what folks?? Most of kink is actually REALLY BORING.

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*”Yeah, yeah… pinch the nipples, cut off her clothes. Whatever.”*

But it’s boring for a reason. My husband and I were attending a house party in New York once, and a young, inexperienced man had a girl standing on a chair, hands tied behind her back, and was about to put a loop of rope around her neck.

Raise your hand if you can already spot the problem.

My husband quickly stepped in and showed the young man a different, safer, way of accomplishing the same end goal. But most people haven’t spent HOURS AND HOURS in classes. And by the way, this is all assuming that your kink scene includes sex… which MANY DO NOT. “But hey, that’s really complicated,” says hollywood. “Let’s skip to the fucking.” I applaud your focus, hollywood, but not necessarily your tactics.

So people will go to see this movie, get all hot and bothered, and decide that they want to do a “Rape Play” scene, or maybe they want to meet another kinkster and get into a “Consensual Non-Consent” scene, not knowing how those terms differ, or even what they really mean. So some chick will say she’s “down for consensual non-consent” to some dude she meets online because it’s “totes romantic,” and she’ll end up locked in a metal cage for a week before escaping. And then she’ll go running off to the cops crying ACTUAL assault. And everyone will look surprised and we’ll all wonder WTF just happened. Or worse, people will die. Because this movie, I’m guessing, will show the fun-fun-happy side of kink. It won’t talk about the hours of negotiation, of contracts and detailed discussions that HAVE TO HAPPEN before you even take off a stitch of clothing. Does your partner have asthma? Do they have emotional triggers? Yeah, that’s all shit you need to know before you start beating him or her, making them call you daddy, and shoving a dildo up their ass.

And worse, this girl is a VIRGIN?! How the hell does she know what she wants? Most people in the scene shy away from virgins. They bring drama and confusion. They’re just discovering themselves and have no idea what their limits are. They don’t know how some past trauma will impact a sex-positive scene, because they’ve never had sex. There are the rare exceptions, and I’ve met them; people who are experienced in everything except penetration. Fine. Whatever. These folks are the exceptions that prove my rule.

So, we’re putting a film ALL ABOUT DANGEROUS SEXUAL ACTS out to a public with little or no knowledge about how to perform these acts in a safe and consensual way. Knife play, rope play, take-downs, electrical play, flogging…. if you know how to do them, it can be a lot of fun. But if you don’t, frankly, you’re setting people up for a very, very dangerous evening.

…not that hollywood cares.

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My New Year’s Resolution: Supporting wordpress stars!

Some of you may be readers of John Howell on here, and so by now you’ve heard that one of our own is PUBLISHING A BOOK!!! Since I believe in doing the right thing and supporting good people, I’m posting the details to his new release on here. Please take a minute to read through the post, and maybe consider buying it with all that sweet, sweet, end of the year bonus money you got from…. well, let’s not call it porn…. let’s say “enhanced acting ventures”! YAY!!!

Don’t be a jerk. Go support John!!

**********************************************************************************************************************************************

Big Launch in 2014 My GRL Fiction Thriller

By John W. Howell

Now available from Amazon here  https://www.amazon.com/author/johnwhowell

 

 

Published by Martin Sisters Publishing

                 

“My GRL by John W. Howell is fast-paced thriller that shows how your life can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye. . . It is a well-written story that kept me glued, page after page.” Readers’ Favorite Five Stars – Reviewed by Faridah Nassozi.  Click here to read the full review. http://readersfavorite.com/book-review/14417

Blurb:

John J. Cannon successful San Francisco lawyer takes a well-deserved leave of absence from the firm and buys a boat he names My GRL. He is unaware that his newly purchased boat had already been targeted by a terrorist group. John’s first inkling of a problem is when he wakes up in the hospital where he learns he was found unconscious next to the dead body of the attractive young woman who sold him the boat in the first place. John now stands between the terrorists and the success of their mission.

 

 

Author Bio:

 

Photo by Tim Burdick

John W. Howell’s main interests are reading and writing.  He turned to writing as a full time occupation after an extensive career in business.  John writes thriller fiction novels and short stories. He also has a three times weekly blog at Fiction Favorites .

John lives on Mustang Island in the Gulf of Mexico off the coast of south Texas with his wife and their spoiled rescue pets.

Author Contact:

E-mail: johnwhowell.wave@gmail.com

Twitter: @HowellWave

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/john.howell.98229241

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/johnwhowell

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I Live in a Sorority House… and it’s full of idiots.

I’m not a passive aggressive person. I’m not even an “aggressive-aggressive” person. I’m generally a, “let’s not piss each other off,” person, and I lean toward the “let’s all order pizza, hang out on the couch, and watch some bad movies” kinda gal.

I’d like to think I’m zen about life, but mostly, I’m just lazy. And getting all stabby means I have to get up from my chair.

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*tl;dr*

So, I think we can all be a LITTLE impressed with me, when, upon first moving in to our lovely new apartment, I went straight to the neighbors downstairs and said, “Hi! We’re new, and we have a small child. I really want us all to get along, so if there’s ever ANYTHING that concerns you, please feel free to talk to me.” I EVEN CHECKED IN WITH THEM. AND I WAS NICE. One might even use the word “charming!” It would be ill-advised, but one could!

Anyway, then, a few weeks after that, they wrote us this nasty letter saying that we shouldn’t let our son play in the communal courtyard, because that’s right near their bedrooms, and we should know better. Let’s all take a minute and reread that phrase. Did you see the word “communal” in there? YES, BITCH. That means *I* pay for the space, just like you do. But, since I’m on this “charming” kick, I won’t let our Max play out there, because I am a nice person. And also, my husband hid all the knives.

Then, on Wednesday night, they were playing their music extra loud. And it was that BAD music. Like, euro-trash, disco-sweat, gonna-wear-a-speedo-to-the-beach, whatever-nonsense… but I let it slide, because the husband and I were able to fall asleep, so ok. Then…. THURSDAY NIGHT COMES ALONG. That music is now SO LOUD, my floor is vibrating with the bass. So, the hubs and I put the wee one to bed, strap on our big kid trousers, and go downstairs. Now, we had waited a while, because we remember what it was like to not have offspring and have lives.

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*this looks correct*

…so we didn’t want to be the assholes who go downstairs at 9pm, and tell the whipper snappers to turn it down. BUT WHEN 12-FUCKING-30 ROLLS AROUND, YOUR ASS IS MINE.

We go downstairs, and I knock. I knock again. Now I THUD on the door, because I KNOW your ass is in there, you passive aggressive little shits. Well, they turn off the music and all their lights, and don’t answer the door.

So, since they started this silly note-writing-thingy, I write a note and POLITELY ask them not to play their music so loud past 10pm. That seems fair.

And now I got some crazy ass ranting note BACK from them. We gave it to our landlord. They’re mad because it’s a “circus” up here, what with all the walking we do on our floors. And also because our son cries sometimes at night.

Hey, you know who hates it when our son cries at 2am? ME, MOTHERFUCKER. I FUCKING HATE IT. I HAVE TO GET UP, SOOTHE HIM, GET HIM BACK TO SLEEP…. YOU GET TO STAY IN YOUR NICE WARM BEDS. Is it inconvenient? Sure. And do I feel sorry about that? Eat a bag of dicks Yes, yes I do. But that’s apartment living.

And I say ALL THIS to say, they’re downstairs right now, slamming doors. Guess who can sleep through that shit, because she has had to sleep through a crying child for almost two years? THAT’S RIGHT, MUTHAFUKKAH. SLAM THAT SHIT. I hope you get your fingers caught in it.

5 Comments »

Why I Would Set My Daughter Up To Fail

My one year anniversary of starting this blog has come and gone. I got an email notification in my inbox, and my first feeling wasn’t of happiness… I as sad. I SHOULD be happy. I have met some wonderful people on here, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading each and every one of your blogs, whether or not I comment or you know I’m there. But at the same time, in late December 2013, I was in the same spot I had been in late December 2012; starting a new job, strapped for cash, a small child, and constantly stressed. Constantly exhausted.

On the one hand, we would have moved for the husband’s job, no matter what… but I was making moves to leave the contract I had been on, anyway. It was stressful and horrible and my two managers were fucking nuts. I was constantly talked down to. While male coworkers were heaped with praise, another female coworker had to deal with my manager asking her when she would get married, and to be careful about the “state of [her] eggs.” The job before that, I lost while five months pregnant. I’ve  walked into boardrooms and been told to keep my mouth shut, or been told that I’m not “demure enough” for a woman. Most successful women I know, have had to fight tooth and nail to get where they are. And I’m not male-bashing… half the time, they have to fight other women who, instead of SUPPORTING and lifting each other up, will burn you.

So, when I saw this, I wasn’t surprised. It seems that the discrepancy in pay between men and woman start with our allowances, or pocket money. Boys are often given more for just being boys. The reporters discuss how parents should be sure to pay each child equally, and not to discriminate.

But why?

You know what you teach girls and boys when you pay them equally? That the world is fair. That Disney is right, good always wins, and you will *always* get that last cookie from the box. And it will be delicious. But the world ISN’T fair, and what has Disneyfication of our world gotten us? The Kardashians. Honey Boo Boo. Closing schools, and a recession.

I say we should set our daughters, AND SONS, up for failure. Pay them differently. Then switch it next week, and make the other one debate or develop an argument as to why they should be paid more. Very few people are handed opportunities in life; most of us work and struggle and negotiate our ways through the world. Kids should learn that at home. They should learn that $4 as pocket money is ok, but why not TRY to get more? Even if they fail, they’ve learned to TRY.

Likewise, we put our little girls into ballet classes, but often the boys go into karate. Why? I was in ballet, and I can honestly tell you that I have never once been granted a raise based on my ability to pirouette. SET YOUR GIRL UP TO FAIL. Let her know that the world can be dangerous and scary. Let her know that there are people out there who may try to hurt her. Because it’s true. AND THEN tell her that she can take ballet, and that’s lovely, but she will also be taking karate because grown-ass woman (and men) don’t start fights, but they DO finish them. They take pride in themselves, and they take pride in doing the right thing by defending others who may be assaulted or bullied. 

But most people don’t. They set their kids up to “succeed” with equal pay and ballet and Disney movies where birds sing songs and crows are outdated racist stereotypes. Tell your kids that life isn’t fair. Let them know that goals are obtained through effort and negotiation and hard work, not because everyone is nice. Set your kids up to fail, so that they can learn how to work around it and actually succeed.

And now, I will get down off of my soapbox for the day.

Happy New Year, you guys!!!!!!!

16 Comments »

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