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Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Of erotic lit, mommy bloggers & shower heads...

I've been checking out some "erotic lit" websites lately. You know, see if I can make a few bucks.
Hm... It would take some serious dumbing down to churn out that type of moronic nonsense. It's like ad copy for the emotionally and sexually retarded. Besides, I'm too undisciplined to write about anything that doesn't interest me. The kind of "stories" published on "erotic lit" sites read like scripts from truly dull porn videos.
Okay, so none of this is exactly big news. But who are the readers? Who is this vast army that makes marketing phenomena out of badly written books about very vanilla bdsm? Well, on the face of it, women mostly. Judging from the comments sections on "erotic lit" sites, many of these women are unrequited, uncherished and unattended: the unromanced. Those who were never made to feel "special", never got swept off their feet and out of their predictable lives.
It's the same idea that's sold trillions of truly awful romance novels. Women often insist on at least a pretension of context in their sexual situations while men usually don't care and just want a "release." The sad irony about this mass-market "erotica" is that it's the furthest thing from it. We're not talking Anaïs Nin or Colette or Jeanette Winterson. 
But now I'm the one who's being romantic. It's a business and it's economics. The vast majority of the largely unpaid digital serfs who produce this dreck are said to be "mommy bloggers"; often women who've lost their jobs and are now reduced to being chained to a laptop in their kitchen and simplifying their fantasies, turning them into "erotic lit" in the hopes of making a few bucks - very few from all the bitching I read on the authors forums.
It's assembly-line smut for the functionally literate. Quick, easy, and most of all, convenient. Combined with advances in shower head technology over the years, perhaps it's all that most readers need. Another box ticked:
Laundry done
Kids off to school
Quick wank
Credit card bills juggled
Yoga class payment deferred
Go to Costco & buy new toy (old one worn out).


Monday, January 7, 2013

Go Fuck Yourself Nicely

They used to say one's addiction was a result of 'choices.' But when the full implications of that word became apparent, the Latest Findings folks decided it might be more manageable to blame brain chemistry, our fucked up receptors - blamed for everything from the most depraved evil to the most banal stupidity. "He posts endless inane bullshit on Facebag because his dopamine receptors are malfunctioning. It can't be helped."


One result is the addict who becomes a 'recovering addict' as an identity. That's like saying, who I am is not a murderer. I don't murder people.
I guess that's a start but "I am not an addict" is not a life. It's not even a vocation or profession. Definitely not a passion or a motive or even a compulsion. I'm not a lot of things. Not being those things doesn't make me something else. It just makes me not those things.

Perhaps addicts are just addicted to themselves. Self-loathing seems to be the big self-flattery gag. "I hate myself so hate me too." (No, thanks. I'll pass.) But that's still a ME thing, ego driven. 
One of the first exhaustive studies of addiction, conducted way back in the '60's and long since forgotten, concluded addicts are fundamentally narcissists, annoyed the rest of the world has never realized how great they truly are and feel hard done by over that. 
If you break it down, the whole addiction and recovery edifice - and the lucrative industry it's become - is a white middle class creation. Until the abuse of drugs and booze made serious inroads among those people, it was just something poverty stricken degenerates and 'artists' did.

I spent many years as an addict and a sort of variegated masochist, in the entire rainbow of that word's meanings. I had a blast a lot of the time but in some ways it was one endlessly dull whine of apology for being alive, for existing, for being around. Now, not so much. Welcome home, Rip Van Winkle.
Seen outside a drug rehab clinic: "Go Fuck Yourself Nicely."
Self-acceptance is the key...