Author: jae

or,
Safe Sex Via Technology

(a poem for adults)

by
     transmothra

i lie down on my bed and soon
i start to touch myself;
and floating overhead, the moon
rests neatly on her shelf.

the windowsill is high enough;
i leave the curtains open.
no one sees me in the buff.
i heave, in earnest hoping…

somewhere flying miles above,
a satellite observing.
electric eye to catch my love;
a spy most undeserving.

along another axis lay
a room with many views.
its monitors see many play,
like me, and maybe you.

and in that room, a silent girl
undoes her belt and probes
for the spot that makes toes curl,
that only holy lobe.

she watches as i think of her
and bathe myself in fingers;
her monitors begin to blur,
and purring she will linger.

and somewhere very far away,
somebody’s all alone.
if only they knew in some way
they’ve partners of their own.

on this day in… well, the late 15th century, C.E., near as any scholars can honestly agree anyway… a bright young fuckup by the name of Christopher Columbus (anglicized spelling, of course) was busy fucking over the First Peoples of the Americas.

he should have stayed home.

in fact, white people should not have been allowed to interact with the rest of the world until, say, the late 20th century, which some would say is still kind of pushing things.

there is nothing good about celebrating the guy who REdiscovered “America” (or rather, haphazardly stumbled onto it, half a millenia after the Vikings landed and miraculously avoided killing off entire populations) and then went on to, as an encore, completely destroy the lives of tens of thousands of people, enabling followers to do the same to hundreds of thousands more.

what i got was:

Congratulations, you’re Los Angeles, the City of Angels.

when what i SHOULD have gotten is:

Congratulations, you’re San Francisco, the city of change.
What US city are you? Take the quiz by Girlwithagun.

What is Your Native American Totem?
brought to you by Quizilla

pics from the neighborhood, ass end of a sunset. the sun has just come (we missed it), and is just now lighting a cigarette before settling down.

so last night i dreamt
that there was a little dinosaur in the fridge.
i know it may seem strange to some,
but that’s just the way society crumbles these days.

speaking of dinosaurs,
i’d like to breed a T. rex that was, oh, say about 8 feet tall.
seems to me their bodies are perfectly suited
for things like mowing the lawn and shopping for groceries.

i heard there’s great seafood
at this place called The Oyster Bar.
actually, i’ve never been.
there seems to be something almost sort of defeatist
about eating a creature that’s made entirely out of tongue.

something strange happened this morning.
i woke up feeling like i was a little lighter.
yesterday i felt like a little cigarette.
i need to get myself together.

so i came up with a really nice fingerpicking riff while fuckin around trying to figger out a Robyn Hitchcock bit. i had a few lines of words almost immediately, too. it’s very very CSN (well… filtered thru Jefferson Starship or Boston, that is… *groan*). i dunno, we’ll see. i’ll definitely keep working on it.

bought a cheap little cassette recorder for $20 today, just to see if i could get some of these new (and overdue) songs on tape. it sounds horrible – really noisy. but i got a pretty damn good take of Neil Young’s “The Needle and the Damage Done”, which has been a staple for me for over a decade now. the vocals and guitar playing were miraculously spot-on, in a single take, too. i’ve played it live several times already and always find myself coming back to it, so i guess it should have been pretty good. i also “got some levels” with “Blackbird” (Beatles) and “Band on the Run” (Paul). the former sounded okay, but the latter sounded awful, even though i know i can do it really well when i really put myself into it. i kinda do a Freddie Mercury thing on “BotR” a little bit, usually, but it’s late and i just wasn’t singing OUT like i should have been. don’t get me wrong, i could never sing a tenth as beautifully as old Angel Freddie, but hey, i try.

so i think i’m going to go ahead and finally get my old dusty Fostex four-track into the shop and see if i can’t get it fixed up. i used to get some pretty decent sounds on it. i’m a trained audio engineer, after all. i just wish i could afford a decent digital eight-track. but wtf. lo-fi analogue it is. or will be, with any luck (and/or a very tiny repair bill).

to Deni Bonet (violin rock goddess) who is cracking up as Robyn expounds on the concept of introductions and names and how the fictional example “Martha”, who is in actuality a mass of molecules and complexes, et cetera, could really fly apart at any second, sending her psyche careening across the universe:

“it IS disgusting Deni; it’s LIFE… I mean if it weren’t for our ribcages, there’d just be spleens à go-go…”

omg–

i’m watching Robyn Hitchcock in the Jonathan Demme film Storefront Hitchcock… he is so freakin’ funny! of course, it’s sometimes hard to tell whether he’s not just really mad or very very clever, but either way, he’s absolutely BRILLIANT!

“Siemens and Glaxo and Virgin and Disney got together and said ‘Let there be Humans!'”

right now (i’m only maybe 15 minutes in) he’s just been expounding on how Neil Armstrong is 7’7″ and the Mercury capsule was this tiny little thing like the Stonehenge out of …Spinal Tap and how humans grow an average of one and a half inches every hundred years (Julius Caesar came up to your pelvis), and they fed people carbonated beef, and so on and so forth… then he goes on to say something like “anyways, I got so angry that I wrote this song…” and busts into another of his kooky folk-pop freakouts.

what a marvellous weirdo!

awwwie… Melissa called me about an hour ago, right after waking up! that’s really neat, although i don’t know why exactly. she’s such a super sweetheart though.

i <3 Melissa!

from http://naucon.net/misc/tests/love_test02.htm

1. The road represents your attitude towards falling in love.

You chose the long road–you take your time and do not fall in love easily.

2. The number of red roses represents how much you give in a
relationship, while the number of white represents what you
expect in return.

You give 65% and expect 35% in return.

3. This question represents your attitude towards handling
relationship problems.

You like to get the person yourself–you are a more direct
person and like to work out problems immediately.

4. The placement of the roses determines how much you like to see your boy/girlfriend.

You want to place the roses on the bed–you like to see him/her a lot.

5. This represents your attitude towards his/her personality.

You prefer the person to be asleep–you love the person as the way s/he is.

6. The road to home tells how long you stay in love with someone.

You chose the longer road–you will tend to stay in love for a long time.

That’s all folks. Best wishes to those who are in love.

from http://naucon.net/misc/tests/love_test01.htm

1. You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free.

2. In the process of courtship, the approach that would make you feel irresistable is creative, never let you feel bored.

3. The impression you would like to give to your lover is loyal, faithful, never change.

4. You don’t like it when your partner is emotional and/or too
moody; and you don’t know how to please him/her.

5. The kind of relationship you would like to build with your
partner is one that you care not only about the present but
also the future with your partner, a long-lasting relationship that you can grow with.

6. You care about the society and morality, you won’t do anything wrong after marriage.

7. You are quite pessimistic, you don’t think happy marriages exist anymore nowadays.

8. At this moment, you think of love as a committment for both parties.

i like it when my hair comes off of my elastic band and hangs down like this:

so i was reading Michener’s The Drifters, a wonderful book i will soon enough expound upon, when i came upon a passage about a massive heap of hippos, and it occurred to me: we hug, cuddle, and huddle because we subconsciously desire to be part of a colony again. let me explain:

a good number of geneticists have toyed with the old sci-fi idea that DNA, besides being a clearinghouse of building plans, also holds something called “genetic memory”, which may hold primitive memories dating back far prior to our own individual consciousnesses. that is, that if we could somehow tap into this vast resource, we might well be able to “remember” what it was like to be, say, an early modern hominid, or quite possibly something far more ancient, such as a protozoan.

the best possible evidence for this possibility is found in nature, and in fact has been known for years. it is called instinct. when a baby giraffe stands for the first time (which, i’m told, can happen within minutes of birth!), lifts its head, and tries to eat, it is doing something that it knows it must do… with or without mom & dad having taught them how to do it, or showed them the process to begin with. most animals have a well-documented set of these instincts. this is why almost all living creatures are able to survive in the wild even after having been orphaned very young. (a human baby can’t do shit and is utterly helpless, but that’s for another time.)

i thought about those hippos, and about all the other animals that seem to have a natural predeliction towards the group hug. why would whole herds of hairy leathery things want to pile up on top of one another and just sit around like this for hours at a time? for that matter, what do we humans do that could be considered comparable?

the answer, of course, is that humans hug each other and cuddle and huddle and share affection in these ways, and that it wouldn’t make much sense from a purely logical point of view except that this is genetic memory telling us that we once were single-celled organisms, the simplest life of all, and that we succeeded because of the group hug… we got to where we are today by taking our very first evolutionary step: we combined our selves into a colony of single-celled organisms and became something radically different: a multicellular being.

so that’s why we hug and get all close and stuff! we’re either fumbling, trying to take the Next Step, or we’re reliving the Good Old Days!

next week: kissing and hive-consciousness

as if there were even any question about this!

Which Breakfast Clubber Are You? Find out @ She’s Crafty

now just what in the hell did Iroq ever do to us??!

the good news: Jimmy Carter this morning won the Nobel Peace Prize. yay Jimmy! the only truly noble president we’ve had since i’ve been alive.

the bad: the House and Senate have declared Dubya can damn well do as he pleases with regard to attacking Iraq, against the express wishes of the vast majority of their constituents. foolish, foolish people.

check out this huge fucking spider in our garage! wow, that bastid’s a MONSHTER! i measured the lil’ shit and it’s over TWO FEET from wing to wing!

ok, it’s not two feet, but it’s almost a coupla inches! from the tip of your index finger to the 2nd joint; that’s about how big it is. honestly.

and spiders don’t have wings, you idiot.

open courseware rocks.

ah.

i see from my journal and comments made on someone else’s that i was wearing my Prince pants again last night. oy vey. looks like i had <sarcasm>fun</sarcasm> opening up whole cans of worms and letting them eat me alive. and wtf is up with that last post i made? honestly, i stun myself with my drunken foolishness sometimes.

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so i had a dream that i had somehow secretly obtained/lucked into a spaceship that went underwater and stuff. it was small, but the inside was like a friggin’ TARDIS: vast. my first thought was who should i call first to have freaky sex with in this thing…? weird. that wouldn’t have been me a year ago. i was burnt out on sex & romance. lately, though, i’ve developed a sort of returning interest in fucking & getting fucked. actually, i think i like making out more than sex itself, but you get the picture. i’m getting less and less inhibited about lots of things, as some of you may gnow ;)

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what’s so sexist about callin’ someone a hottie? i don’t get it. i could see if i was a different person, someone who actually displayed sexism on other levels and in other ways, maybe. but i think it’s perfectly valid, at least coming from someone like me who doesn’t have a prejudiced bone in their body.

ok, that was a lie. i fucking hate bigots.