The Hair Dresser

Jane did her best to focus on her work.  She was doing everything she could to push the memory of that horrible night into the back of her mind.  She just focused on the wet head of hair sitting in front of her.

The customer is one of your typicals who frequent salons, a forty year old trophy wife who needs her annual wash and polish so she can continue to still look good while sitting on her husbands shelves next to his diploma from USC and his high school wrestling trophies.  Her visit to the salon is a standard step in the polishing procedure, and it is necessary if you still want to be one of the ways he flaunts his wealth.   You could tell she was forty, but all the same she still looked good.  But no matter how good she looked, there was no hiding from the fact she was forty.  She knew this, but she didn’t want to think about it.  All she wanted to do was flip through her ELLE and act like she was getting her hair cut for her and not her husband.

As Jane ran the comb through the trophies wet hair, she looked around her work place.  All she saw was vanity.  Not in any mean, or egomaniacal sense, this is just what they know.  But everyone in the room has only one concern and one concern only, how do I look in the mirror.  All the people in the chairs were here to become beautiful or to up keep their beauty, while the people working here, were already beautiful.   If you make people beautiful for a living, then you’d better make yourself beautiful to.  Otherwise it would just be bad for business.  That’s one of the big burdens of this occupation.  You have to keep yourself beautiful, so that others can know you can make them beautiful to.

All of this beauty, and all of this vanity made Jane furious and sick to her stomach.  She knew damn well, and everyone else knew for that matter, that she was the hottest piece of ass in the place.  Her chest, hair, face, and ass all come together in perfect shape and proportion, naturally.  And to top it off her hair and make up was the best in the place.  Jane knew damn well she was the most beautiful and the best stylist in the god damned salon.  And she was the most beautiful, and she knew that’s why it happened to her, he could have chosen any of the other girls in the entire city, what happened to her could have happened to any of these girls, but it happened to her…

She shook her head, she realized she was thinking about it again so she returned to her work.  She grabbed the scissors and began her trimming, following each trim with a brush through the hair.  “Focus on the work, Focus on work and nothing else,” she thought.  She just repeated that over and over again in her mind.  So she just went on working, cutting the hair, applying the bleach, she has four more clients today she needs to focus on work.  So she did.  She went through all the motions, working, always using her hands, keeping busy, but it just kept coming back.  She replayed the entire thing every time she closed her eyes.  With every blink, she saw the entire horror from start to finish.

Three weeks ago, she woke up when she heard the thud, by the time she had opened her eyes, he just sat right on top of her, and covered her mouth with his hand.  He had a ski mask and a bowie knife.  It was so cliché Jane was sickened by that sight alone.  He held the knife in his other palm like he was ready to thrust the blade into her heart, like a stake in a vampires chest.

“You will do as I say,” that was all he said. He said almost nothing, his voice was so distinct, so raspy, impossible to disguise that he didn’t want to give his victim anything to identify him with.

Jane began to pray this was just a night mare, that this wasn’t happening.  But it was, she knew it was real when he whipped it out.  She knew because the pain that thing caused her was more horrible than the worst form of torture.  The physical act didn’t hurt, the piece of shit’s cock was the smallest she had ever seen.  Even the arm he kept twisted behind her back to keep her from fighting back didn’t hurt to much, it was just the shame of it.  The fact she was now powerless to this bastard, this man who is not a man was now in control of this girl.  She was his victim and no one else’s, His victim.  She had lost her control, so now he had his power.   This is the goal of the rapist, power.  And this one succeeded, he now had control over her, he has his power, and she has none.  Because she was the victim.

When it was all over, he said just one other thing, “Tell anyone, and I’ll kill you,” and he was gone.  And he held so much power over her, she obeyed.  She didn’t leap to the phone as soon as he was gone.  She didn’t run into the street screaming for help.  She didn’t do anything She just got into the fetal position, and cried.

It had been three weeks since the day she lost her power.  And here she was, at the salon, like nothing happened.  She was startled by almost anything.  Bianca came up from behind and asked to borrow her tray, and she flinched like she was about to get punched.

Then she heard someone talk to Beth at the front desk behind her.  It couldn’t be, she thought, but she recognized the voice.  “I have an appointment,” was all he said to Beth, “with someone named Jane.”  She turned around, and there was her rapist.  She knew it, that voice, she only heard it twice, but she knew this was the man who held the power over her.  This five foot five, muscle bound, pale little prick.  This was the thin dicked bastard who stole the control of her life from her.  This sack of shit had ruined Jane’s life, and now here he was waltzing right into her territory, right where she was supposed to feel secure, just to gloat about making her his victim.  He thought he was being clever, but Jane knew from the second she heard that raspy voice, that she was in the presence of her tormentor, and she decided what to do.

She finally finished polishing the trophy, then sat the bastard in the chair, and tied the bib on him.  “What to you want?” she asked.

“Short sides, long on top.” He said flipping through a GQ, doing his best to cover his smug evil smile.  “Smile all you want you bastard piece of shit,” she thought.  “Just you fucking wait.”

Jane turned him to the mirror, while she picked up the scissors, and taking her aim in the mirror, with one swift swing of the arm, she hit her target.  She stabbed the entire pair of scissors into the bastards cheek and into the red depths of his throat splitting his cheek open so wide you could see his teeth. She then ripped the scissors out of the prick’s cheek, and let him fall to the ground screaming in pain.

Everyone in the salon was scared stiff.  Out of now where Jane had just stabbed a customer in the face.  And now he was lying on the ground screaming in pain, while blood pumped out of the hole in his cheek, as if someone had struck red oil in the side of his face.  Jane just stood there and smiled as he squirmed on the ground like the worm he was, vomiting and squirting blood, he had lost his control.  Jane had the power now.  She now held the power of taking a life, of deciding if this monster should live or die.  And when he finally stopped squirming, and died, the transfer of power was complete.  It didn’t matter that she was getting taken away by the police, she would tell them the truth, and eventually she’d get off, no court would convict a girl who looked like her.  She had her power back.  She was in control of her life again.

And he was dead.

Girls Like Sex Too

Kitty In The City

‘She brings someone home every weekend’, what a slut, ‘He brings someone home every weekend’ what a legend. I’m sorry, did society have a brain fart or what? I’m over this ‘she’s a slut’ versus ‘he’s the man’ when we’re looking at the exact same scenario.

Why is it that Irish women who bop on with casual sex are considered loose and tainted, but when our male counterparts do the same they’re welcomed back as heroes? It could be our Catholic guilt? White wedding syndrome? Or we could just be seriously, seriously backward… Irish guys are having a grand ole time, but us girls are ruining our own fun.

How about the next time your bestie reveals she went home with the library hottie after Krystle you high-five that hunzo. High-five her and leave your shocked gasps where they belong, the back of mass. Now I’m not encouraging disrespecting yourself…

View original post 353 more words

Jonathan’s Note

Jonathan decided that the time had come.  He was sick and tired of the constant distress.  He checked the bath water, it was warm.

He checked the razor, it was sharp.

He got in.

His body was found with only a note,

It was a poem,

The only poem he had written in three years and it was his last.

Jonathan killed himself because his publisher rejected his second book and he had spent the money from his first book on whores and drugs.  Jonathan was lonely and in debt, and his parents taught him that therapy was for pussies.

The poem went like this:

“My faint but elegant sorrow,

Knows only your word.

And only your word knows my thought,

and my action,

and my deed.”

For some reason, this poem was enough to make both the police and coroners cry on the scene.  It was as if these few simple words were the last from some beautiful soul, whose life would mean nothing as the world continued to move.

They knew this.

Jonathan knew this.

So for that brief and beautiful moment, someone on this Earth actually knew who Jonathan really was.

The New Sex by James J. Jackson, Jr.

I am appalled by the attacks on sexuality and the fear of sex our society seems to have despite the blatant expansion of the pornographic industry.  I have heard from several sex educators that there is a trend for many sexual conservatives to talk about how society is losing its “traditional” sexualities and is being replaced by a new more mixed, bizarre, and blatant sense of sexuality.  Is the new societal sense of sex more diverse than it used to be? Yes, Is it more blatant, open, and public than it used to be? Yes, More bizarre?  No, to call someones sense of sexuality bizarre is condescending and hurtful.  To me the only bizarre sexuality is bestiality and pedophilia, and those are sexualities that have no sense of consent in one of the parties.  The only bizarre or wrong sexuality is one where any individual in the sex act has no consent.  This brings me back to my original point.  The idea of this sense of sexuality being bizarre or new.

The sex we see today is not new, it is just finally being treated with the progressive attitude it deserves to finally allow people true sexual expression.  Things like polyamorous sex, gay sex, bi sexual sex, are things that have always existed but because of societal inclinations were repressed.  We are still recovering from the reactionary attitudes of Queen Victoria and Freudian/Jungian Sexuality that dictated the 1950s onward.  These acts of sex, these “bizarre” and fluid sexualities have always existed.  Its only because we now realize that we should no longer be ashamed of our loves and lusts that these forms of “non traditional” sex are becoming more public.

In an earlier blog post I talked about how online pornography has allowed people with previously repressed sexualities to explore and examine different types of sex for themselves.  This goes hand in hand with what I am talking about now.  There are issues with the pornography industry that must be reconciled, such as those who exploit ignorant people in order to use them as performers, the sexism of Revenge Porn, and the issues with body image that many types of pornography perpetuate.  Although I am convinced all human beings enjoy pornography in some way and to some form or degree, I can understand the problems that pornography can raise.

There are your cliche perverts with bad mustaches tricking young girls into “modeling” jobs who are making bad names for people who bring in consenting adults to perform and enjoy themselves.  There are groups of petty men who exploit there girlfriends emotions, tricking them into sending sexy pictures and videos, then immediately sharing these with the world as some petty form of retribution.  To the so called men and women who find it obligatory to humiliate your ex lovers, stop it, you are giving porn a very bad name.

What is more important is the impact porn can have on body image.  Women can feel that their bodies are not of measure with some of these actresses who are either trim and healthy or intensely voluptuous.  Men can feel inadequate compared to several of the male performers that get to have sex with these beautiful women and get paid for it, a double whammy for most men.  The problem here is duel, it is not a matter of favoring one side over the other.  The pornographers of today should be more sensitive to the implications their comfort with sex has on other people, and at the same these people finding their inadequacies through porn should not compare themselves to any one but themselves and they must seek out the porn with body types that do make them feel more comfortable.  Because of the more blatant sense of sexuality we see publicly today, their is more diversity in porn.  There is porn for all sexualities and all body types and the individual must seek them out, at the same time the industry must begin to be more diverse with the body types they bring in mass to the public that they exemplify.

That being said I feel this is where this idea of the new sex being “ bizarre” and “non traditional” is coming from.  Because of the massive availability of all the different types of pornography, all displaying different types of sex acts, people increasingly are coming to terms with the fact this sex has always been there but their desire has been unfulfilled.  We sexually repressed ourselves for too long because of societal implications, and now we are seeing our true sexualities come out because of the widespread public availability of a diverse world of porn and sex.  These sex acts we see and engage in are not new, they are not bizarre, they are inherently human.

Sex is sex, period, sexuality is not a product of society it is a product of our species evolution.  Sex cannot be dictated socially and this is what we are discovering more and more as a society.  The more conservatives attack a woman’s right of choice the more of a backlash there is.  The more government tries to dictate our sex lives the more sexual revolution becomes imminent.  The more laws are passed about gay marriage the more people are expressing their own sexuality more and more, be it gay, straight or something you do not feel can or should be labeled.  If one persons sexuality is attacked then all our sexualities are attacked, if it is “not right” that two men or two woman can love each other, marry each other, AND make love to each other because it is “wrong” we are then ALL forced to conform our own sexualities to what is “right,” or “normal.”  This prevents women and men from embracing their sexual fantasies because of social backlash, which is just not fair.

A woman is not sexually broken because she enjoys multiple partners at once.  A man is not more or less of a man because he loses his virginity later in life.  A person is not a pervert for being attracted to she-males because they like the sex appeal of blurred gender lines.  Gay men or women making love is not an abomination so long as it is consensual.  Sexual conservatives need to get over this fear of the new sex and must begin looking inward to embrace their own sexualities so that they may stop attacking other sexualities simply for being different than their own.

So start listening to Susie Bright and reading Nancy Friday.  Enjoy the instructional pornography of Nina Hartley.  Embrace your turn ons and offs because they are one of the few things that are truly and completely your own.  Be public and fearless about your loves and lusts.  Welcome to the New Sex ladies and gentlemen and every one outside and in between.  Welcome to the sex that is finally your own, and not your society’s.

The Online Enlightenment




Lend me your Ears.

I have for the longest time been hesitant to express certain thoughts and opinions by way of blog post, however the time as of late has taught me otherwise.  The internet is the future of all things, for better or worse.  Literature and philosophy are not dead despite what many people think and say, but rather it is going through a reformation, a sort of technological renaissance if you will, an online Enlightenment.  Thanks to our modern sense of global communication we now have two things, 1. International dialogue on race, gender, sexuality, and basic human rights and rights violations, 2.  A public whose suppressed sexuality is coming out in spades, and we have people like Nina Hartley and Lisa Ann among several others to thank for it.

What I am writing to you here I do not expect to go viral, nor do I intend to answer any of the problems society faces.  I will talk about these problems, however I acknowledge that one man alone cannot change the world with a simple text.  That is not to say that a man cant change the world with a text at all, the operative word in that sentence was not “cannot” but it was “alone.”  The greatest men and women of action have never been the people who acted alone, literally none of them.  A very intelligent woman once told be, “The strongest bridges are the ones with the most support.”  Look at our heroes of history, yes Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King Jr, and Ghandi are all people whose individual stories stand out, but remember that all leaders would be nothing without their people holding them up.

So what are the intentions of this long winded introduction, this tangent contemplation of things NOT to come?  Well, if I am to be honest, my intentions are as humble as they come.  All that I wish to accomplish with this text is to have one person, just one, be introduced to thoughts they have never had before.  I do not care if these thoughts are positive or negative reactions to my work, as long as there is a reaction there is thought, and with every decent thought there is a lesson learned.  At least their is supposed to be for the balanced mind.

This I feel is the problem with modern society, there is what the Shogunist Japanese would call a lack of center in people in modern society, with which comes a lack of discipline, with lack of discipline comes lack of understanding, with lack of understanding comes a lack of empathy, with a lack of empathy comes division, and with division comes lack or even destruction of balance.  This is what the corporations and the greedy hands of government and Wall Street have figured out, they understand our lack of balance and they exploit it, they even encourage it by propagandizing body image and race.  Politicians and the media create mountains out of anthills because of the repressed sexuality that encourages the woman’s shrinking size of choice and the male hyper-sexual tendency to consume porn and indulge in domestic violence and even rape.  Misogyny is encouraged because it is divisive and creates biased square pegs of societal gender roles that paint men as violent beings and women as weak and helpless.  I know Men who wouldn’t harm a fly and Women who make their livings as soldiers, fire fighters, body builders, and UFC fighters, far from being weak and helpless.

Our society encourages racism, it encourages the divisive dialogue of George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin.  It encourages the non existent standards of what constitutes “blackness” and how skin tone is used as a degree of measure of so called blackness.  Just go on twitter and count the tweets about “light skinned niggas” and one can see how we have imbedded racism within the very races we are oppressing.  The constant flow of “#oomf” and “#ratchet hoe” tweets show how much farther we have to go to progress past sexism and rape culture, that is if our blatantly one sided structure of rape law and the more than constant attacks on Women’s bodily rights aren’t enough to convince you.

I say we intentionally, by the way.  Despite my progressive tendencies, I must acknowledge the fact as a white upper middle class male I have an obligation to history and society not exploit my privilege and in fact I have the duty to use my privilege to end my privilege.  I want to see to it the privilege I have is not a privilege bestowed just upon straight white men with money, but is an inalienable right of men, women, and everyone outside and in between of every race and sexuality.

Sometimes it makes me sad our society is so one sided, so excessively binary and lacking in balance and center.  Other times it makes me angry, and others it makes me laugh in hysterics.  I cope using many different channels, but the time has come to vent all such thoughts into this one.  I guess that is the only thing Im trying to get accomplished with this blog post, to get all these sporadic thoughts that have been floating in my thoughts into one avenue.

Futile or not its very therapeutic, I cannot vouch for the benefit of art as therapy enough.  This is another problem we are facing, we do not live in a society that encourages artistic expression enough.  Rather the constant attacks on arts in education proves that we are not living in a society that encourages creative individualist thought and expression, but that is a rant for another post.  I also must make the point that I am convinced that we also live in a society that goes so far as to define what is and isn’t art.  Art is like god, both can be whatever the individual imagines or wishes them to be.

Art can be anything, from our traditionalist notions, to the more modern concepts such as film or videos.  Yet who is anyone to say sex is not art, one could debate the positives and negatives of the porn industry for days on end, what must be stated is that these people who do choose to express themselves sexually and explicitly should not be a source for attack.  Pornography does a public service and allows the individual conflicted or confused about their sexuality to explore and discover types of sex they might be afraid of or unfamiliar with but curious about.  This is an important need in a society that suppresses sexuality seen as “different” or “wrong.”  If these people didn’t have the variety of channels to explore when they are other wise being forced to suppress themselves they would most likely commit suicide, in fact several still are.

Art can be sex, it can be film, it can be science, it can be anything.  That is the point of that earlier tangent, not just to explicate our growing sense of sexual revolution but to explicate how the global sense of communication is introducing people across the world to new arts and thoughts, and sexuality.   All of these things are factors that revolve around the internet and our new sense of globalized culture.  Among the negatives are the growing division between from the haves and have nots, and the forgotten people in the middle.   On the positives we are finally starting to free our minds sexually, and we are being introduced to thoughts, ideas, art forms, and most importantly information, that we would otherwise be unexposed to.

So where do we go from here, what is the point of this out of work author sitting here on his computer, blatantly stating the obvious in these tangental sentences?  We continue the dialogue, we continue to share our thoughts, our ideas, or lusts and loves, our expressions so that we may grow.  So that society may grow.  If I have provoked thought in you in any way by having you read this, you have grown and so has the world around you.

Welcome to the online Enlightenment, let us disprove our distopian paranoia and progress, looking back only to learn, and grow.