Archive for Finnegan’s Wake

TTWDWW: Maybe someday, right after You Think it Can’t get any Worse…and then it Does Anyway….

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Civil Liberties, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Language, First Amendment Rights, Literotica, Mature Theme, Memoires of a Post-Neo Dharma Bum, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Post-Neo, Sex, The Power of the forbidden Word, The Talking Monkeys, This Thing we do with Words with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 24, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return.

Part Eleven

Maybe someday, right after You Think it Can’t get any Worse…and then it Does Anyway….

It is also darkest before the Storm.

And so we come to ideas, concepts, and thoughts….

So much writing is formulaic, because if you want to get published…if you want a large following of readers, you have to consider that most film producers or publishers have so little imagination.

Every time new ground is allegedly broken in some area, the rush to judgment is to look for the next “Fifty Shades of Grey,” or whatever copy-cat trend is peaking at the time. Enough said.

Charlie Kaufman, Lana and Andy Wachowski, and Tom Tykwer remain some of the most notable exceptions to the rule as regards both screenwriters and directors. To my knowledge, they do not do erotica. That is unfortunate…for Erotica.

Virtually all great modern literature breaks, or at the very least bends whatever literary conventions and common period practices that are in place at that moment. Naked Lunch, Finnegan’s Wake, Howl, and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas are all good examples for different reasons, although none of them are erotic, despite the fact that when they were originally published, Naked Lunch, as well as most of Allen Ginsberg’s writings were considered “dirty”, and subject to censorship.

Originality makes its own rules as it goes along while the rest of the world tries to follow or copy it, but only after first suppressing it. We are long since past the time for Erotica to do the same.

We’ve had more than enough suppression of art and culture in general for too long. Politics and Religion are the root cause, but as long as citizens are willing to trade their civil rights and liberties for safety and security, from an ever-increasingly parental and disapproving government, it will only get worse.

It’s hard to believe that it has been over fifty years since the sixties (the generation that took twenty years to act out), which may have been the last time our culture openly embraced the eternally questioning mind.

Fellini stated that he believed that in some ways, censorship helped stimulate creativity by forcing more creative ways to work around the limitations it imposed…perhaps.

Born out of reaction to the regimes of Dwight Eisenhower, Lyndon Johnson, Richard Nixon, racial prejudice and discrimination in general, Vietnam and decades of sexual and cultural repression, a political and cultural revolt was inevitable.

In this country, it provoked brazen challenges to tremendous social, cultural and political evils and unconscionable repression, fueled by a general state of mind that openly rejected hypocrisy and injustice as the worlds of Art, Film, Literature, Music, Sexual Revolution, as well as Political and Cultural norms exploded in defiance of a world that had gone wrong for too long.

“…I stood around Saint Petersburg

when I saw it was the time for a change….”

(and)

“I watched with glee as your kings and queens

set the barricades

for the gods they made.

…Pleased to meet you…

Hope you guessed my name….”

(Rolling Stones/”Sympathy for the Devil”)

It has been far, far too long, and maybe our time will come again, if we but choose to stand up and howl…not to repeat ourselves, but to re-invent ourselves timelessly, proudly and shamelessly.

Nothing is sexier than a truly authentic person living their life passionately and fearlessly with boundless curiosity, little reservation or caution, and few regrets.

Time to fish, cut bait, or swim.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/23/2015

 

The Talking Monkeys and The Home for WaywardSouls: Dress for Success

Posted in Biggest Sex Organ, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Long Form, Metaphysical Action/Adventure, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Sexual Action/Adventure, The Home For Wayward Souls, The Talking Monkeys with tags , , , , , , on September 14, 2013 by dreamlanddancing

The Home for Wayward Souls and The Talking Monkeys: Dress for Success

Merle paused for a moment to reflect as he sat on the edge of his bed. It was a California King, vast…immense…sprawling, and yet, if he were to lay back on a diagonal with his arms and legs spread, he would cover most of it.  He often told people he was the second-shortest member of his family, surpassing only his mother, a mere petite five feet, twenty-six inches.

The Apache possess a gene or two that often produce very tall offspring, but unlike the Watutsi, they tended to be bigger-boned and more broad-shouldered like the Mandé. Most of Merle’s relatives, however, would have been immensely offended by the comparison to African tribes. It would seem that those who suffer from racism frequently are just as prone to indulging in it as those who would pre-judge them, but to Merle (who was in fact named after Merle Haggard, not Merlin the Magician) it was all a tragically amusing illusion in which it seemed all peoples indulged.

He considered himself fortunate that he came from a family of Shamans, Brujos, Sorcerers, and Medicine Men and Women that raised him in an atmosphere of enlightenment and tolerance. That tolerance was especially important to Merle, given a few of his proclivities, as we shall see….

As he sat upon the edge of the bed he meditated, eventually allowing himself to visualize what should be his choice of wardrobe for this evening’s ceremonies.

A great number of his practices allowed him to wear long flowing robes, which he preferred whenever possible, and was generally his mode of dress within his home…what was not generally known, except to his very closest of acquaintances was what he often wore underneath.

Merle admitted that he liked leather and denim as much as he liked satin and lace. Although he was preternaturally handsome and well-muscled, he had little body or facial hair and his features were somewhat androgynous in the same way that certain Nordic or Arian female genotypes may be stunningly beautiful while nonetheless lacking certain typically feminine features per se.

The robe he visualized for the occasion was a light, very breathable unbleached linen, with a few essential talismans silkscreened onto it. Underneath that he would be wearing a pair of black silk panties that Kali had hand-sewn to his exact specifications, which included enormous provision for his massive cock, and a nude-colored chemise, also silk with a modest amount of black lace trim.

The contrast of his smooth high cheekbones and his smooth, supple almost wiry build, long straight shining black hair and his extremely well-endowed loins was usually jaw-dropping to most females who eventually joined the soft parade of admirers who became worshipers in more ways than one.

Although he was disinclined to permit measurement of his viande, it was clearly well over a foot in length, about the same circumference as his wrist and uncircumcised. Even in his workplace, he had become subject of whispered rumors, urbanlegendary tall-tales and great speculation even among the men with whom he worked…it was as if everywhere he went, there was someone who knew someone who knew him in the biblical sense….

When he was younger, he had struggled with developing the off-handed and simple acceptance of his biological inheritance that he now possessed. He exuded a humble self-confidence that is clearly lacking in most people that made him respectfully approachable. Almost everyone seemed to possess a desire to befriend him, although he admittedly stuck to a doctrine of Love Many and Trust Few…(and always paddle your own canoe).

“Goo Goo G’JoobI am the WalrusAND the Carpenter….” he mused as he stood before the mirror.

Among other coincidences of alignment of time and space, it was also the anniversary of the publishing of Finnegan’s Wake.

“The time has come…
to talk of many things:
of shoes…and ships…and sealing-wax…
of cabbages…and kings…
and why the sea is boiling hot…
and whether pigs have wings.”

“…and I have a powerful hunger for seafood.”

 

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