The Den of Debauchery's Subannex

I've been having a lot of problems lately with my friends.
I make a decision, after much deliberation and they tell me it's wrong.

~~~
Case the first:

I'm burned out on writing. I've been doing this for over a decade, and each book sells worse than the one before. I don't even write. I type by pavlovian reflex. I put on the playlist and let the music get my fingers going. I don't have any new ideas.

So, I'm going to finish four projects:

Mystery of the Monkey God, closing out the Lord Withycombe adventures

The children's series I write under a pseudonym. There are two books at least, possibly four. But they're short, not even novella length, and half written already.

The Eight Thrones cycle. I need to finish edits on Anthony, rewrite Niko-Chan, go over Glad Hands and finish Master Anton. Then we'll see where we go from there. My partner hates a very pivotal figure and most of the plot after his arrival.

the BDSM contemporary novel I'm writing solely to get rights to some cover art.

Yet...
Everyone says that this is bad. That I should do all the other stories on that endless list on the front page first. That "Brain Eaters of Algol 3" won't be a total disaster (why wouldn't it? Every other Cliff Cody story sucked) That vague ideas I noted to avoid losing them should be given valuable house space in lieu of my major projects.

Or that I'm needed for this short and that short and the other anthology. Here, have some distraction.

~~~
Case the Second

There is a part of my identity that I have had for decades. However, while it has brought me minor pleasure on rare occasion, it has caused much more upset, constant pining, dissatisfaction and unhappiness.

I have chosen to give this up. I no longer pursue experiences or even fantasize about them. I don't plan to write them except where it cannot be helped. By choosing to no longer desire what I cannot have, I hope to be calmer and more at peace with what I do have.

And yet. I'm chastised for discarding part of my identity. I'm told it will only make me more unhappy to do this. I'm told it's a waste. My reasoning and all is questioned. I'm told I'll never be free and I'll only make myself miserable trying.

~~~
On one hand, I understand they want to make sure I've thought things through and am not doing a knee-jerk, heat of the moment decision. On the other, I'm safe-wording out and being told, "No, you're not red, you're still green. Take some more."

Terra's done
The CDs are burnt.
2 loads of laundry are dried.
And a Spock/McCoy pic is ready for the door.


The post office opened my mail again. Gee, you know, a thank you note/soicitation from a local charity is SUUUUCH a threat.

Reading some old zines as I was assembling them to go.
From Circle of Light 3:
(Luke has been captured by bounty hunters, and is getting info from his cell-mate)

"How many are there?" Luke asked

"Only two," said Sijmohn, sitting back down next to Luke. "the one with the dark hair, watch for him. He is bent."

Luke was puzzled. "Bent?"

"One who is as a woman," said Sijmohn, smiling faintly. "He'd find you pretty."

Luke swallowed.


OK, so we have homophobia and sexism in one paragraph... I thought this was at a time when gayness was verbotan in SW fanfic. I guess it was OK if you portrayed it as "bent" and the province of rapists.

Cranky now.

I have had it up to HERE with the clueless hetboys.

The ones who equate stopping abortion with stopping a parent abusing a toddler in a store. (um, the words potential vs actual are very lost on you)
The ones who will never be pregnant but feel they have the right to sit in judgement.
The ones who think filling birth control prescriptions is infringing on the pharmacist's rights.

And if I never hear "Lesbian in a male body" again, it will be too soon. (Tranny-dykes cheerfully excluded from that) If your penis plays ANY part in your sexuality, you are not a lesbian. You're just a clueless hetboy. And I am here to put the smack-down on you with my Clue-by-Four of Enlightenment.

The ones who find gays revolting and think it's normal to be revolted, but love watching two girls go at it. As Selina Rosen says: The only women featured in those fantasies are young and slim and and gorgeous. They are never overweighht, middle-aged ladies who wind up sleeping on each other's boobs.


If I weren't off the market, I'd stage my own version of Lysistrata. Just say no to sex with homophobic pro-lifers.

Sister Broadsword of Reasoned Discussion signing off!

Just severely out of temper, and took it out on a hapless poster on one of my mailinglists.

He tries to put women on a pedastal as perfection, and that gay men are removing themselves from women to keep from causing the perfect, wonderful beings any more distress.

He's either smoking too much Starhawk, or trying to get into someone's pants, is my opinion.

I suggested male homosexuality was another form of misogyny instead of a worshipful withdrawal. The words I hear about women from gay men are of loathing and revulsion, not of awe and worship.




I'm feeling misogynistic, so here's my point:

Women don't belong on pedastals. We're not perfect. In fact, the vast majority of women aren't even interesting.

They throw their brains out of their heads in their teens, and present themselves as sex objects. Men, seeing this, treat them as such. Some women actually have the nerve to complain about this treatment. Their mouths say "pigs" while their bodies and modes of dress are saying "come and get it." If one is dressed like a streetwalker, there is no room to complain when men ogle the goods on display.

By the time this fades, they've gotten caught in a rut of career/children/debt and have no time to develop interests in anything outside of those.

Women tend to bloom most after menopause. Then, they have time.
This is why witches and wisewomen are old. This power and wisdom is also why cultures have been afraid of old women forever. Our own culture has decided that "30=dead" or "35 is the next 18" depending on who you talk to. There is no sense of maturity or of dignity that goes with age.

Men hit 45, trade the wife in on a pair of 20's, buy a sportscar and get laughed at.

Women hit 25 and decide they're old bags. 14 year olds want to have babies instead of waiting until they're over the hill at 20.

My mother, still in thrall to her 1950's scripts, has beautiful silver hair. She dyes it an unbecoming red (she's a winter) because it "makes her look younger." I'm finding silver in my own hair, more this year than last. I think I may have dyed mine for the last time in May.

I'm ranting and rambling.

Being aware of the ways in which I despise my own sex (and the ways I use to cover it) tends to warn me when someone else is using the same tactics.

This is a rant. It in no way reflects the policies of LJ, or fandom as a whole.

How do we determine underage?

The 18 cutoff seems insane in fandoms like Buffy and Smallville. Especially since Buffy gave it up on her 17th birthday in canon. Someone mentioned it was illegal to depict those under 18 as having sex, because that's kiddie porn.

In that case, Joss & Co., the creators of Dawson's Creek, and every teen sex comedy ever made are all violating the law. So are any after-school specials that deal in pregnancy.

Stephen King gave us 7 twelve year olds having sex (1 girl, six boys) in It.

Heinlein gave us a 15 year old with "romantic fever," (I will Fear No Evil) a 12 giving it away willingly (ibid) a 13 year old coming home announcing "Mum, I guess I'm pregnant" (Friday)

Juliet is canonically 13. Two weeks away from her 14th birthday, and her mother was pregnant at 14 as well.

Judy Blume present 16 & 17 year olds having realistic sex in Forever.

In Chasing Amy, the girl has had a menage a trois before she's out of high school.


I think there is a huge difference between "kiddy-porn" and teen sex. Time Magazine reports that 1/2 of all 16 year olds have had sex. 3/4 have had oral sex and 1/3 have had anal sex.

I think, by insisting all our characters be over 18 before they do ANYTHING is a disservice. And it limits us.

I can see Ron and Hermione stealing a kiss by the time of Goblet of Fire. I can even see Hermione getting swept away by the older Viktor Krumm and making out past a point she's comfortable. (She's 14. My little sister was sleeping around at 14)

I honestly think there's a cutoff at puberty, around 12-13, where anything below should be considered a bad idea (or at least abuse). I think 13-15 is kind of dicey. But I know people who were having babies at that age, and think 16 is too old to be breeding.

I have no problem with 16 and over in explicit sexual situations, esp. if it is established that their society accepts that. Remember, Scarlett O'Hara was 16 at the beginning of Gone with the Wind. She was flirting, flashing her bosom and trying to catch a husband. India Wilkes was a washed-up old maid at 20.
She had her first child before her 17th birthday.

For your consideration, from my college madrigal group:

And I were a maiden c1510


And I were a maiden
As any one is
For all the gold in England
I would not do amiss

And I were a wanton wench
Of twelve years of age
These courtiers with their amours
They kindled my courage

And when I was come to
The age of fifteen year
In all this land, neither free nor bond
Methought I had no peer

The actual sound file



Rant over. I think I had a point somewhere.

I. have. had. it.
I'm moving to Australia.

I went to bed with hubby in my arms, now hubby's lying on my hair...
You know the drill.

Anyway, so I roust the crew, who hasn't been out of bed before noon all week, out at 6. Big kids have dr. appointments.

I go to work, get the library all opened. (BTW, did I mention making coffee for the coffee shop has ben added to my list of duties this week? I fraggin hate coffee!)

We go to the doctor. Hubby gets lost and we're a little late for one appointment. On the way, i check my planner. I have, of course, scheduled MY physical on the same day at the same time that my Jonner goes in for his semi-annual ear check. Fuckses, precious.

I get called to the desk (hubby has gone to the bathroom, and apparently fallen in). The appointment was last Friday. At 8:20 and 8:40. I wish i was in Australia.

I think I had a nervous break-down on the receptionist's counter. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, so I sorta did both. She took pity and they worked us in. (the schedule was light)

Oldest daughter is in the 130% percentile for her height. She is 5'5" and weighs 102. Obi is dead average for an 8 year old.

She's showing a bit of scoliosis, but what scared me were the words Marfan's Syndrome.

So she's got a genetics appointment, as does Obi for Levy-Roussay.

We called the doctor when we got home to make an appointment for my ears.
He leaves the office at noon, and it was 12:10.

Then the storm moved in so i had to move the kids' party to the house.
We had some fun. River Rat was a hit (sort of musical chairs, the person caught in the river[throw rug] is out).

Last night, I went to Wal-Mart to get party stuff. A basket full of stuff and my card won't swipe. Turns out if you dispute a charge, the bank cancels your debit card. Naturally, i didn't have my checkbook.

Now I have 7 kids playing boardgames (including Escape the Death Star) while Popeye cartoons run in the background.

The worst is, i can't go to bed and read slash until i feel better.
I have to stay up another hour or two until they start to drop.

It has been a terrible horrible no good very bad week.
Some weeks are like that. Even in Australia.

So I knew it would suck when i found out it was the annual enrollment for health insurance

Medical costs are going up about 18% annually.
This is ridiculous.

My insurance went up 30%. I'm now paying $366/mo. Thank goodness the school picks up the rest of the $925 it costs to insure me and mine.

The words "Disease Management Program," in combination with singling out the people who had cost the program the most, frighten me. It sounds a bit like veiled euthanasia. A slight substitution in the medication, and the person dies...


Had to use the end of my savings to bail out the checking.
Augh!

And that means I have to work late.
Another hour.

Note, I am deliberately ignoring the war. I know there are people fighting, dying and suffering everywhere, and that my annoyances are but trivial. That's why it's called "annoyance" not "life-threatening danger."

1) That my keys went missing. I literally cannot leave my house without my keys. Our doors deadbolt and without the key I cannot unlock them.

2) That my kids couldn't get their lunches packed because younger sibs had eaten all the chips and drunk the juice. (Had they packed last night, I could have fixed this)

3) That $5 of gas was just over 3 gallons.

4) That I cut my legs shaving

5) That i forgot my lunch

6) That Kix 106 played nothing but jingoist music. "Have you forgotten", "God Bless the USA," "God Bless America," "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue," and Hank Jr's remake of "Country Boy can Survive" which is now "America can survive." Only 2 of those actually offend me on their own, but all jammed together they were nauseating. I channel hopped a lot.

7) That I was late for work, because of the keys.

8) That Bunny whined about hating Disney because I got her Disney princess invitations for her party.

9) That Dollface was unusually stubborn and took to hiding behind the toilet instead of getting dressed.


My day is not looking any better

I commented on Worley's "Have you forgotten" HERE

Salon.com has their own take.
http://www.salon.com/ent/music/feature/2003/03/11/worley/index.html

"Darryl Worley's hot new country single "Have You Forgotten?" plumbs a new low in post-9/11 pop, arguing that to avenge terror we must attack Iraq."

I wish I could give him the benefit of the doubt and say he's urging Bush to finish in Afghanistan, but he's not.

I am digustipated.