Observations and Field Work …

I haven’t posted anything here of late, but no, I’m not dead and I’m not in a coma. Just busy, and working at (emotional) load limit in several directions. Bouncing deep into the overloads on intellect and perception as well, but for the first time in a quarter century it’s the emotional that hit limit first.

This fine work of womanhood
is totally how I envision
Ms. Catherine Omega Winterwalk
in the story "The Care and Feeding
of Unicorns"

The redhead on the left is of course Ms. CC Donahue
from the tale "Rules of Engagement", and the brunette
lass on the right does full justice to Ms. Lisa Ranik,
a crossover character between the two stories. 

Been writing a lot on what started out as a story that rapidly turned into a book, ‘The Care and Feeding of Unicorns’, the synthesis of the emotional content of the Omega affair of a few years back. To full tell that tale has put me into places I had yet to go in my quest to know myself well enough that no one can take advantage of me by knowing me better than I know myself. Seen some deep introspection these past weeks, I’ve got several contract crews working in Escherville. Some of ‘em are using dynamite, and Blackwater Security got nothing on my battalion of mercenaries protecting them while they work.  

With that underway I’ve also been watching the current political circus as the momentum of the last fifty years is in the process of running headlong into the walls of reality. The dis-quality of the major players is shredding the camouflage and covers of so many low level collective entities it’s really not funny. It’s like seeing Wall Street and Madison Avenue stripped nude to naked and not knowing their clothes went away, watching them walk around buck nekid still doing business like the tailor who sewed the Emperor’s new clothes had taken them on for customers. Yea, there’s a few who aren’t that bad to look at, but damn… denim and sackcloth would do wonders for the rest of ‘em.

Side note: I’m planning to vote Libertarian this cycle. A third party president couldn’t be any more of a threat to the national welfare than what’s top of the ticket on the other two. The same constitutional checks and balances are in play, and a third party potus would of necessity have to be a consummate negotiator to get anything done, to negotiate from a position solid enough to make anything happen would require recruiting the people themselves to the cause, ergo, that potus’ best option would be to be as transparent an administration as possible and recruit the best of the other two sides into their cabinet.

The other two parties, divided and all but disgraced by what split them, would be unable to hide their partisan bullshit and old boy/girl corporate commitments in the face of a potus not part of their machine who could and should reprise the old FDR fireside chats of years gone by to give the American People his side of the story set in a political soap opera waaaay to steamy hot for Brazilian TV. All they show is sex while the perversions where the political meets the corporate make a thirty head Viagra saturated pansexual orgy on an indoor kindergarten playground look totally tame by comparison. All that might require by way of clean up would be soap and a garden hose running warm water, maybe a supply of ice packs and some anesthetic hemorrhoid medicines for those the victim of bad aim or overly enthusiastic.

Sheeesh… sorry about that. Didn’t really mean to load you up quite that heavy. Anyway, no reason potus can’t put a paw down on Zuckerberg’s farm* just like the rest of the world. *(aka facebook… seems I remember the farmer who owned the farm whence was set the cute little kids’ story about Charlotte’s Web shared a name with the facebook founder).

THINK about who you’re gonna vote for… this one may wind up in the history books like the fight between Augustus Caesar and Mark Antony did. All serious folks, this one will mark history even more than electing President Obama did. 

Other things are in the works as well, but for now they’re not ready for prime time, so… I share back to the internet universe a couple of pictures found there, and take it back to the other machine that does not get connected to the devil wire to go back to work.

Catch ya'll later...

That... would be me on the right...

The Honorable Woman...

Bumped forward from January 2012 

because where the Spitfire below 

was a pretty thing Leia was prettier...

***   ***   ***

I've mentioned her before, Leia, the dreamweaver who stepped up to take the throne when my muse Alex retired.  She's incredibly skilled at that art, when Leia dials it on the weathermen know it sight unseen, the jet stream changes directions.  One afternoon, well, afternoon for us, early morning for her, she did just that, she dialed it on and it was hot.  I mean hot.  I don't mean warm, or sultry, or provocative, it was that scorching melt things blue-white hot only the wholesome can fully achieve.  It was the kind of thing a woman offers her man when he's the one she'll trust when she knows she'll be beyond rational thought, utterly consumed by passion, or pain, the kind of thing to motivate a man to cut his way across hell and back to fetch her dill pickles and chocolate ice cream if that's what's needed.  It was just way hot.  Of course that wasn't the only time she'd done it, but that time sticks in my mind because of what she said when that segment of her show was over, something she obviously understood that I'm coming to understand that not all women do understand. 

As the chorus of wows and oh-my-god's and sundry such exclamations of delight from her audience began to wind down I added my compliment to the roll, words to the effect of "sweetheart, that was awesome, but don't ever do that for a man live and in person unless you plan to keep him for a lifetime."  She smiled, her wise woman smile, the one that really is so very warm, and with a wink and a twinkle in her eye replied "nos, I'm not fifteen."

No beautiful woman, you're not fifteen.  But if you at the age of fifteen understood the unspoken thought you were indeed a prodigy of feminine wisdom, and judging by what I've seen in the world at large since then it is a wisdom apparently a great many of your sisters need to understand. 

Leia is full dreamweaver, it is her art to paint a dream using the psychology of her audience as her palette.  As such of course she understands the full power of the erotic persona, the power the feminine allure has in the life of a man.  Equally of course she'd have to understand the resentment a man will feel if that power is over used, she'd almost have to understand how deeply a man's life is actually diminished if he must defend himself against that power being mis-used beyond its' proper domain, how that power mis-used is actually the source of a great deal of the misogyny in our world. 

Leia understood that, I'd say pretty much all of her sisters-in-seduction worthy of mentioning in the same context with her gave evidence they understood it to one degree or another.  But apparently this is not a widely understood thing among all women.  The longer I look the more consequences I'm beginning to lay to the feet of that ignorance.  Interestingly, those who seem to actually understand it the least are those you'd think would be most likely to have a grip on that thought: the fashion industry, the feminists, the women's advocates of one form or another.  

I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt and work from the assumption it is ignorance, because to assume they behave as they do with that understanding in place would be to say they act with malice towards men, deliberately exploiting their own femininity to maintain a status quo of unhappiness and conflict for the sake of a profit motive, or worse, the motive of justifying a life based on bigotry and prejudice.  For their sake I'm going to assume it's ignorance and not evil.