Just For Some Political Balance…

This is why I don’t think I’m ever going to be a really gold-star liberal. I sorta kinda agree a little bit with this article in the National Review.

I know, the National freakin’ Review, bastion of hard-right-wingers everywhere. Don’t ask how I got to the link, I read way too much political stuff, and I’m not sure it’s entirely good for me. I was ranting about the general idiocy of Lou Dobbs to a friend yesterday. He stared at me thoughtfully and said, “You should really not be allowed to watch TV or read the newspapers until after the election.” I think he feared for my blood pressure or something.

(Hah, like you could keep me from reading. Good luck with that. So, anyway, I somehow clicked through some link or other and wound up reading the article. This post will make no sense to you unless you do, too, but the article is pretty short, so you can click over there and then come back.)

It’s about health care, and the question author Bill Whittle poses is: is health care a right? He’s springboarding off the answer Obama gave in the last debate – which was “Yes.” Mr. Whittle, you will not be astonished to learn, disagrees.

Now understand, I have not spent any more time studying the problem of health care than the average healthy person. That means: not much. But it’s true that when people say “health care is a right”, I think to myself, really?

I mean, a right. Seriously? I don’t understand that. I can see, as any reasonable person can, that everyone having all the health care they need is by far the most desirable state of affairs, and that it’s a worthy goal for us to strive for as compassionate human beings. I can understand the idea that we should all make some contribution to the world and be kind to people who are less fortunate than ourselves. I have no argument with that.

But a right? I think of rights as pretty basic things: life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, the right to free speech and free association – those are examples of rights, in my mind. I don’t know if having health care, as needful as it is, is in that category to me. I generally dislike “slippery slope” arguments, because they don’t really address the issue. But Whittle’s extension of the idea to food and shelter has a certain punch: you will die without food, so why is food not “a right”?

Of course, many people would say that being fed and housed is a right. I’m not saying that it’s wrong to want to care for other people, and to work towards that goal, I’m simply saying I don’t understand how those things are rights. Those types of statements feel to me like they’re watering down the idea of what a right really is. When I think of rights, I think of things that I have, inside me, which should not be taken away from me by any outside force. They are things that are integral to me being a human being. I don’t inherently have health care, or food or shelter. I must create some situation in which I get them. Or someone else must create it. But it doesn't just happen.

It may well be that I just have a blind spot about this. I’ve almost never been legally employed by anyone, and I have definitely never been employed anywhere that had health care benefits. Thus, I’ve always had to provide my own health care insurance. That’s just…what you do, in my head. In fact, I’ve never even entertained the idea of getting any form of government assistance, like unemployment, welfare, food stamps, student loans/grants, or anything like that. I don’t think those programs are bad, I just haven’t participated in them. The whole concept of anyone else being involved in providing my health care is foreign to me. I suppose when I’m old I’ll make use of Medicare, if it’s still there. And if I try, I can certainly construct a scenario in my head – an extremely unpleasant one- which would end with me applying for government aid. So I'm not saying "oh, I'm too good for that, I'd never do it."

I can see that there’s some disconnect between my ideas that “It’s okay that taxes fund some food/shelter/medical care for people who need it” and “But it’s not a right”. If it’s not a right, then why is it acceptable for the government to pay for it? I don’t know. That’s a gap in my reasoning that I can’t explain. But my point is not that the government shouldn’t help people. It’s just that the idea of my having a right to some external thing I didn’t work for/pay for is puzzling to me. Unlike the author, I’m not unwilling to be persuaded to another point of view. If someone makes a clear and cogent argument to me about how health care really qualifies as a right, then I’ll change my mind. I haven’t heard that yet, though.

In contrast to yesterday's Blackberry shot - Craig Morey sent me some samples from our shoot two weeks ago. He does such yummy work.




(Bigger versions in the Flickr feed.)

Lately whenever I post studio photos, someone invariably remarks, "You don't look very domme-ly." To which I reply, "Just because I'm a dominatrix does not mean I have to brandish a riding drop and sneer in every damn photo I ever pose for." I've done the corset-and-thigh-high-boots shots. That was fine then, and some of the pictures turned out very nicely, but I'm over it. It's boring. I cannot do a good shoot if I'm just bored to pieces by what I'm doing. I wanted pictures of me in the clothes that make me feel sexy and good. And I assure you, I can deploy my cuffs, clothespins, floggers, electrodes, et cetera just as well in a designer dress - or jeans, for that matter, or nothing at all - as I can wearing a plastic outfit from Hot Topic.

What I would like to do, sometime, is a shoot where I just play with someone - someone I have a real and genuine connection with - and someone shoots it. No posing, no "wait, stop, that's good, but do it again with your shoulder turned this way" directions. That I would do, and I'd enjoy it. So maybe when my life slows down a bit I'll see about arranging such a thing. Meanwhile, enjoy the previews of coming attractions.

I'm flying home from Vegas today.



It's been great - we lolled by the pool, we gambled a bit, we shopped. (That's me at the shops in the Venetian Hotel - a very, very dangerous place.)

We also saw Zumanity, which was delightful. It's funny - there are not many "fantasy" careers that really appeal to me. I think I have a fantasy career, frankly. So I don't wish I was a rock star, or a supermodel, or a movie star. (Or a vice-presidential candidate.)

The only thing that ever makes me fantasize about a different life is watching Cirque du Soleil shows. I'm not going to run away and join the circus - although I did take trapeze and Spanish Rope lessons for a while - but Cirque du Soleil makes me wish, just for little while, that I could. Even though I've seen lots of their shows, they always have moments of such beauty and grace that I envy the performers, even though I have some idea of what physical rigors they go through in order to achieve it. Our bodies are such fragile and impermanent things, and the art they make also lasts only a brief moment - but it's so lovely in that moment. It just moves me.

I'm having a lovely time in Las Vegas. Since the stock market is tanking, I've decided to take my life savings and see if I can win a fortune here instead. The odds can't be much worse than Wall Street.
Okay, I'm kidding, I'm not really going to do that. Maybe I'll put twenty dollars into a slot machine instead, that's about my speed for gambling.
Meanwhile - a new podcast, in which Monk and I talk sex work strategies for safety and emotional self-care.

A few observations as I get ready to jet off to Las Vegas...

My cat and I have spent more time in the vet's office lately that either one of us cared to - a rare instance in which we are in complete agreement on something - but a couple rounds of medication later, we seem to be on the right track. I am vastly amused to find that many years of sticking needles into adult humans as a form of recreation does seem to help when getting the hang of injecting meds into a disapproving feline. I don't need to be told how to not stick myself in the thumb, for example. Nor need I be told how to properly dispose of used needles.
So once again, thank you for the well-wishes.

Veering from the home front to the national: I am not a serious Maureen Dowd fan. However, I was very entertained by this column, and I agree with what she's saying . These kinds of feelings are the root of my negative response to Sarah Palin and others of her "Just Folks" political brand. "Frontier Baroque", indeed. In fact, some of my pre-campaign willingness to consider voting for McCain was based on the fact that he never, ever talked like that.

Thoughts on "Religulous": I am not a serious Bill Maher fan, either. He's clever and funny, of course, but too often his cynicism comes off, to me, as bitterness. Now, there are plenty of things in the world one might reasonably be bitter about. But that's not something I seek out as entertainment. Jon Stewart, for example, manages to rant and rail hilariously, and yet maintain a certain sweetness and charm that makes me think he'd be pleasant to be around in person.

Still, I wanted to see this documentary just because it's been so talked-about. And Bill does pretty much just what you'd think he would do - goes around with a camera and a microphone and skewers strongly religious people with the illogic of their beliefs. It is funny, although it's so heavily edited that one wonders what was cut out. And some of the people he interviews - well, when you are not accustomed to talking to the media, it's easy to get lured into saying things that make you look like a fool. There were moments when I did think, "Oh come on Bill, pick on someone your own size."

Many of them are worthy targets, though, and the segments with the evangelical Senator from Arkansas are hilarious. Overall, I think it's well worth seeing. Also worthy of note: the movie audience clapped at the end. Loudly. They also clapped and cheered for trailer of the upcoming Oliver Stone movie about G. W. Bush. As I said to Monk, "It is nice to be living in a liberal city."

Preface: I had originally planned to not post this call for opinions on this blog, because I wanted to solicit answers from more narrowly-focused groups of BDSM-identified people. But frankly, I'm not getting any takers! Everyone seems to be voting for for Obama. It would be interesting to think that all the kinky people in the world are Democrats, but I happen to know that ain't so. I am personally acquainted with some very kinky Republicans who are smart people and who have thoughtful views on the issues. So perhaps they'll offer me their opinion.

***

"Why I’m Voting For John McCain..."

That’s what I’d like to know from you – if you are. I’m interested in doing a column about people for whom BDSM/kink/whatever-you-prefer-to-call-it is an active/daily part of their lives, and who intend to vote Republican in the Presidential election.

I know that a lot of people who are not all that kinky read me. I'm pleased to have those folks here. But the people I want to hear from around this issue are the serious, but serious BDSM people. So let me channel Joe Biden in the debates last night and say it again: what I’m looking for is Republican voters who are sincerely wedded to their identity as a BDSM person, and for whom that is a defining feature of their life.

(Or their identity as a D/s person, or a kinky person, or a fetish person, or whatever term you prefer to employ. Master/slave, female-led relationships, domestic discipline households - insert whatever term you like into that sentence. )

I would like to hear from people from whom what-it-is-we-do is a daily or constant feature of their life. While I loathe and despise the term “lifestyle” in any context, I suppose that’s one way of expressing what I mean here: lifestyle BDSM people.

If you’d like to be quoted, send me an email telling me why you’re choosing McCain, and how that fits in with your identity as a BDSM person. (Or whatever you call yourself, please tell me how you'd like to be described.)

Now, some guidelines: I have very limited space and I want to offer a lot of people’s responses, so I’m looking for answers that are short and snappy, about fifty words or so, max. Equally, your identity label needs to be short, three or four words.

And answers that are just about how much you don’t like Obama probably won’t make it in – I want to hear about why you do like McCain and think he’s the right choice, not about why you don’t like the other guy.

Tell me what name you'd like to be called, and what state you live in, please. And thanks in advance for your participation.

Mistress Matisse @ aol.com

The new column is up at the Stranger. Enjoy...

Also, just because it's cool and very good advice: the Red Light District Chicago site - information for and about sex workers. The video about "what to do if you get arrested" is sassy and savvy, and it applies to people besides sex workers, too.

Now I need to finish writing up my outline for the class I'm teaching in ten days at a romance writer's conference, and then get a column in the can before I leave for Vegas on Sunday, because I don't want to be working on that while I'm in Sin City.

Thank you to all the pet-lovers who dropped me nice notes wishing my sick old cat well. She seems better...

Greetings from San Francisco...

We are having a perfectly lovely kinky time down here. The weather for Folsom Street Fair was great, and the four of us got there early enough to walk around and see most things before the crowd got too oppressive. After about 1pm or so, the fair is pretty much 13 solid blocks of crowds like this:


And that's a bit much for me. Here's a brief article about the Fair in the SF Chronicle, with more photos, and if you want to see some snapshots I took, click over to my Flickr stream. Puck and I have taken some better-quality photos, but truthfully, we've not had time/energy to process them. So look for those when I get home.

Today I have a different type of photo op - my shoot with Craig Morey. I hope that goes well, and that we get some good images. Since I've worked with him before, I'm more confident about it than I was last time, and I think we'll have fun. We will also NOT shoot for eight freakin' hours like we did last time, I was wiped out after that. We planned three hours, which means it'll be four, because that's how these things go. But that's completely do-able.

Can I also mention, in connection with nothing else I have said, how amazingly mean and evil Puck is? I mean, really. I intend that as a compliment, of course. I don't see her very much in her dominant persona. But I have certainly seen it the last two days, and sweet Jesus Christ, it's slightly terrifying. She was looking very elegant at dinner last night, with her hair pinned up artfully, and there was something about her that made me think of a decadent old-world Russian aristocrat - a Marquise de Merteuil of the Romanov dynasty. Maybe it was it was the coolly sadistic pleasure she was taking in commanding and tormenting people. But it was charming. One does like to get to know new sides of of people.

Fundraiser For Martha Manning Weds Oct 1st at Chop Suey

For those of you who don’t know, the owner of Seattle’s lesbian bar, The Wildrose, suffered a terrible accident recently. She was pumping gas, and another car crashed into a gas pump, some gas caught fire, and she was very badly burned. It sounds horrible – imagine, you’re just going about your life doing ordinary things one moment, and the next, you’re on fire. Awful.

Naturally she needs a lot of medical care and her expenses are going to be large, so some cool people are having a fundraiser for her. It sounds like a great show, and if you can’t attend, you can make a donation to help her by sending a check or money order made out to Martha Manning, care of: The Wildrose 1021 E. Pike St. Seattle, WA. 98122.

From The "You've Got To Be Kidding" Department

Complete and unedited text of a message sent to me via my Flickr account:

the tanning bed and shower pics are great. One thing
though, you block out the most sensual parts. If you
would like to exchange photos let me know. Just body
shots....... 803-xxx-xxxx

Huh. You mean - you feel my photos would be improved if I were to reveal my girl parts? Really? Wow, it never occurred to me that anyone would want to see fully-nude photos of me. What a fresh perspective you offer, kind sir.

But surely you are unique. I have certainly neeeeeeeeeever been asked for nude photos of myself before. Not at all. Not even once.

And wait - do I understand that you are offering to send me naked photos of your own body? I am astounded by this! I'm a total stranger, and you want to see explicit naked pictures of me, and show me naked photos of yourself. What a gift of respect and trust! How intimate! I feel so...special. I hope you feel special too. Because I have neeeeeeeeeever had anyone send me naked pictures of himself. Nope. Not even once. Really.

(Does this really ever work? Like, ever? Even in a world where people actually like Sarah Palin?)

A new podcast! In which I reveal my passion for a certain brawny cartoon character, and Monk and I answer reader's questions about how they can create kinky harmony between themselves and their partners. About fifteen minutes.

My 736th Rant About How Words Are Important!

Or maybe it’s not that many. But sweet Jesus Christ, you’d think if you were going to use a word on national television, you’d make sure it was the right word! Unless of course you were an empty sock-puppet of a VP candidate, the political equivalent of a pin-up girl on a Rigid Tool calendar, who’s been spoon-fed sound bites by party handlers and who regurgitates them on command. Like, say, Sarah Palin.

I’m really trying not to bore everyone with my obsession (and subsequent ranting) with the political/economic situation right now. I just bore my close friends with it. The rest of ya’ll don’t come here for that and I know it.

But. This is a farce. This a travesty. I have never felt so insulted in all my life as I do by the campaign the Republicans are running. I've done lap-dances for drunken frat boys who were more respectful of my intelligence than this.

Look, I liked John McCain all right two years ago. And while I do like Obama, I don’t consider him the Second Coming or anything. (Biden’s all right, too – even his habit of putting his foot in his mouth on a regular basis I find oddly endearing somehow. He cops to it, he’s humble about it, so, okay.)

And as I have said before, I take a fairly moderate, centrist position on most political issues. So when it became clear that it would be Obama vs. McCain, I thought, “Okay, well, there’s upsides and downsides there whichever way it goes, but I can live with either one of those options.”

I was wrong.

McCain sold his soul to devil – that’s the only way I can account for his complete metamorphosis from reasonable-if-conservative-guy to the mendacious, quavering, hollow-eyed maître d' to Dick Cheney’s hunting buddies. And having, I suspect, bought and paid for McCain, those king-makers now shake him like a Magic Eight-Ball that’s loaded with meaningless platitudes, sleazy insinuations, and outright lies. The McCain/Palin campaign thinks we are idiots, and that’s how they are treating us.

Now, there are a lot of idiots in the world, I’ll grant you. But I am not one, and I know a number of other non-idiotic people. So the arrogance and the hubris of this enrages me. It’s like they think they can just say anything they like, truth or lies, or not answer questions at all, and it won’t really matter, because “the voters don’t care about petty details like that.”

I care. I care very much. And I’m watching.

Other writers are covering the campaign far better than I can, because I’m not a political journalist. So I’m not going to go on about all the things the McCain and Palin have said that make me crazy. I swear I'm not. But here’s one thing that makes me literally howl with outrage: Sarah Palin can’t even say her lines properly.

Take the interview about foreign policy she did with Charlie Gibson. Now, there was a lot wrong with that interview. (Including Charlie Gibson. Long ago, I used to have a client who’d adopt that professorial, looking-over-the-glasses manner with me, and I hated it. Mr. Gibson should have taken a different tack.)

Anyway – she said “nuclear” just like George Bush says it. The word is pronounced noo-clee-ar. Not nu-cue-lur. That’s wrong. And if you’re campaigning for a position with your finger on the button, you should at least be able to say the fucking word.

And then yesterday, she’s defending McCain’s “the fundamentals of the economy are strong” flub by saying people were picking on his “verbage”.

There is no such word. So, not content to merely continue GWB’s political policies, she is now also carrying on his well-documented assault on the English language. I’m sorry, was it too much trouble to learn how to properly express the sentiments your Martian leaders taught you, Ms. Palin? Let me help. There is no such word as “verbage”. And you did not say “Thanks but no thanks” to Congress, either. Stop saying both those things.

Oh, there’s the word "verbiage"- verb-bi-age. But that’s not what she said. She said "verbage". And she clearly doesn't even know what that word means, because to call someone’s speech verbiage is not a flattering or even neutral choice of words. The first definition of verbiage is: a profusion of words usually of little or obscure content.

Huh. Well, when I think about applying that word to the McCain campaign – maybe I’m being too rough on Sarah. I think that’s about the truest thing either one of them has said so far.

***

Edit: Yes, I know there’s a slang term, but it’s not widely used and accepted, much less in the dictionary, and I don’t think Ms. Palin was trying to show her hipster street cred in the interview with Faux News. Plus, it means "garbage." So, same difference. She fails.

***

One More Edit: Oh, yeah, I wrote a column. It's not about politics, but I hope you like it anyway. Congratulations again, Lochai, I'm sure you'll do a great job. Now pardon me while I go fume some more.

While I go off and spend a few days with a friend, a random pull from the mailbag for you to enjoy…

Hi,
I just read your article about meeting new people, and that is the only piece of yours I have ever read. I don't know who you are- I'm new in town- and in fact, I'm not very familiar with the kinky stuff you mention.
I'm 24 soon/ m/ thin. Work f/t.
Would you like to chat, with somebody not from your scene?
Thanks/ cheers,
(NAME DELETED)
Not a groupie of yours

Before it was published, I was telling Monk about the column this gentleman is referring to, and he said “Oh, man – you know you’re going to get a ton of guys emailing you, asking to go on dates with you.”

“Oh, do you think so? No. I mean – the point of the piece is my expectation - and then the reality - of how it would feel interacting with people who didn’t know me as Matisse. And if you’re a stranger, reading my column, then… You do know me as Matisse.” I made a little so-you-see gesture with my hands.

“Sweetheart, when did reality ever get in the way of a guy with a hard-on?”

Monk does cut to the heart of the matter, doesn’t he? But I actually only got this one email. And I must say I am amused at the sender’s attempt to simultaneously admit knowing who I am – because he read my column, and yet still claim to not know who I am - because he perceives that’s what I want. Takes some verbal gymnastics to hold two mutually exclusive positions at the same time. This man should work for the McCain campaign.

And I’m not sure what to think about the idea that you could read even one of my columns and not be instantly transformed into a groupie. What, I didn't change your whole life in 525 words? Pah! Clearly, sir, you have no discernment, no understanding of my complete literary fabulousness! (Can men even be groupies? I always thought that term was applied to women exclusively.)

I also wonder if this man really and truly sent me this email without checking on one vital bit of information about me first – my photos. The implication is that he knows nothing about me but that one column. But, come on - if he didn’t Google up a picture of me before firing off this note, then he is unlike any guy I have ever known. Hell, that’s what I’d do.

In case you were wondering: no, I’m not dating anyone new right now. I don’t foresee doing so anytime soon, either. It’s a charming idea, but not very feasible. We say in polyamory that it’s not the amount of love one has to give that’s the limiting factor in how many relationships you can have, it’s the amount of time you have to give to them. Ain’t that the truth?

And if for no other reason, I would decline this invitation because of the slash-marks and the abbreviations. I reluctantly accept them in text messages. Reluctantly. But email does not charge by the word, and first impressions count. If you cannot be bothered to write out simple words like “male” and “full-time”, well – one wonders what else you’d take shortcuts with. I am a writer. Do not shortchange the language with me, friends. That doesn’t make me swoon.

A call to action, from The National Coalition for Sexual Freedom...

***

Kinky is NOT a Diagnosis! The DSM Revision Petition

The DSM Revision Petition is gathering signatures from individuals and organizations calling on the American Psychiatric Association (APA) to adhere to empirical research when revising the diagnoses in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM).

Statements currently within the DSM Paraphilias criteria are contradicted by scientific evidence therefore NCSF must conclude that the interpretation of the Paraphilias criteria has been politically – not scientifically – based. This politically motivated interpretation subjects BDSM practitioners, fetishists and cross-dressers to bias, discrimination and social sanctions without any scientific basis.

Petition:
"We, the undersigned, support the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) own goal of making its Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) a scientific document, based on empirical research and devoid of cultural bias. A diagnosis of a mental disorder can have a severe adverse impact on employment opportunities, child custody determinations, an individual's well-being, and other areas of functioning. Therefore we urge the APA to remove all diagnoses that are not based upon peer-reviewed, empirical research, demonstrating distress or dysfunction, from the DSM. The APA specifically should not promote current social norms or values as a basis for clinical judgments."


To sign, go to: www.thepetitionsite.com/1/DSMrevisionpetition (You can make your signature anonymous on this secure petition site so it doesn't appear on the Internet)

To find out more about the DSM and the Paraphilias section, read the NCSF & ITCR: The
Foundation for NCSF's "White Paper on the DSM Revision" at www.ncsfreedom.org (Mistress's note: At the moment, I am unable to access the White Paper. I hope that gets fixed soon.)

For more information, email: DSMrevisionpetition@yahoo.com

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
Inigo Montoya, The Princess Bride


Dear Mainstream Media,

Well, Salon, I'll give you points for not Photoshopping a cat's-eye mask onto her. Thank God for small favors.


Salon.com’s article on how Sarah Palin is just like a dominatrix! Wow, what a fresh take on a female politician, huh? Sigh.

All right, Mr. Gary Kamiya, you come right here and kneel down in front of me, and we're going to talk about using words you don’t really understand. Sarah Palin is not a dominatrix. Do you understand that? I'm going to put my foot right there - yes, there, don't you pull away from me - and now I want you to repeat after me: You're right, Mistress, Sarah Palin is not a dominatrix.

Do you know how I know that? Because if she was, we'd have a safeword to get out of this scene.

I know, I know – the kink thing is a metaphor. But it’s a bad metaphor. It’s an overused, hackneyed, trite, hasn’t-been-edgy-since-about-1987 metaphor. It's a metaphor that would be suitable for, say, an in-flight magazine. On the late and unlamented Hooters Air.

Plus, a metaphor should be like perfume. It should be subtle. It should suggest. It should imply. But you have loaded this piece up with more kinky keywords than a cheap porn affiliate page, spreading them around like a wet, sticky glue to try and hold your premise together. The trouble is I’m not sure what your premise is. Your close states, “But in the end, I suspect most Americans will be driven by their pocketbooks, not their pocket rockets.” I agree that people vote with their big head, and not the one I have my spike-heeled foot on right this minute. So why then this masturbatory re-casting of the political scene?

I’m not one to slam an opinion columnist for trying - and failing - to write something fun and different. I myself have written columns that I now cringe to look at. We all flop now and then. But Mr. Kamiya – and I say this with all due respect, as one writer to another - you clearly don’t know a flogger from a Fuckzall when it comes to dominatrixes, kinky sex, or the BDSM community. Thus, you should stick to literary flights of fancy that, while perhaps not as titillating for you to type, are more within your realm of expertise. Leave the kinky parsing to the experts.

Signed,

An Actual Dominatrix

Mistress Matisse,

I hope you'll give me some advice about a topic my partner and I have been discussing, namely consensual use of date-rape drugs for sex play. I'm sure we're not the first ones to think up such a thing, but I haven't had any luck asking Mistress Google. Do you know of a population who does this, or resources we could look at?

To give you a bit of personal background: I am a 23-year old woman and my partner is a 27-year old man. We are both in good health and have been in a monogamous relationship for five months. We are open-minded about kink, and are exploring different fantasies together as our comfort levels evolve. This "roofie fantasy" is something he mentioned, and I brought up the conversation again recently because I would like to learn more about what it would entail.

The "pros" of trying this experiment would be that my partner is very loving and protective, and I know I would be safe in his hands. He has used roofies on himself before, and knows what it's like. I fantasize about submission and we have fun experimenting with D/s roleplay. I enjoyed being on Vicodin after a surgery a year ago, and maybe roofies are a little like Vicodin? And it's not a foreign concept; sometimes I use alcohol (the most common date-rape drug of all!) and nicotine to "loosen myself up", because I like the wild, uninhibited sex we enjoy when I've had a couple strong drinks.

The "cons" of this experiment would be that, I would be sad to not remember or be able to enjoy the experience. Also, I haven't used many drugs and have D.A.R.E.-induced fear of them. I can't find any info on the web to allay my trepidation. It would help me to know that it's safe from a chemical standpoint, that I would have some recollection of the experience, what to expect, etc.

Have you any advice for us?

I read this letter through once and said to myself, “Sweet Jesus Christ, why does this woman think I’m an expert on using frickin’ date-rape drugs?"

Now, just in case it needs to be said: I don’t know anything about roofies. I've read some stories in the media, naturally. But I had to google the term to find out that the word roofies is a corruption of the brand name Rohypnol, and that the name of actual chemical is flunitrazepam. Wikipedia says its use as a recreational drug is widespread. Huh. I had no idea. It sounds like your boyfriend has considerably more knowledge of it than I do.

I read the email again and thought, “Okay, she’s not saying that, exactly.” But still, I had to wind myself down from being a bit offended. I mean, I’m not the Straight Edge type, by any means. But BDSM people, as a group, tend not to be frequent drug users. The official party line is very much “Drugs and BDSM do not mix.”

Why? Because doing BDSM requires a higher level of awareness than normal interaction. If something goes wrong, it needs to be handled promptly and appropriately. It’s the same rationale as not driving while high, or not being responsible for children. Drug use in scenes is generally frowned upon by BDSM people. I’m not saying it never happens, because I’m sure it does. But not openly.

Thus, I definitely do not have any resources for information about combining BDSM with drugs. I strongly doubt such a thing exists.

And frankly, even people who have played while high would probably tell you that you shouldn’t. It’s not like you two are long-term partners, with a lot of BDSM experience, who just want to take a bong hit before you do a little spanking and fucking. From what I have read, flunitrazepam is a strong drug. You two are newly in a relationship, and you don’t have much kink experience. I’m unclear on what exactly you want to do, physically. I suppose if you had some experience of a drug and knew how to minimize your risks and do your self-care around it, and you just wanted to add verbal roleplay to conventional sex, well - that might be more or less okay. (But that is all absent the inherent danger of taking that particular drug to begin with. I'm not a medical person, so I can't speak to that.)

However, doing any sort of bondage or intense sensation play while experimenting with a powerful new chemical? Whoa, that seems like a seriously, seriously bad idea. The number of ways for that to go wrong are legion.

I know there are websites that offer information about drug use in the name of harm-reduction. You should study them very, very closely. Not all fantasies can or should come true. If you’re not finding any information that allays your trepidation, then I think you should pay attention to that.

A few weekend notes...

It was a big birthday weekend around here. So, happy birthday wishes go out to my Frisbee-playing pal MC!

And it was also Puck's birthday. She gathered a few friends together for an intimate dinner, which was much enjoyed. Happy birthday to her, and many more...

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I seem to have named to a list of Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2008, which is very nice. So thank you to whomever nominated me, and thanks to the blog "Between My Sheets" for creating the list! Be sure and check out the other cool sex bloggers listed along with me, they look great.

Things I am currently obsessed with:

1. The presidential election. I keep telling myself that I have one vote to cast, and I know who I'm voting for, and that checking the polls and the spin and the analysis every fifteen minutes actually isn't going to change things one bit. But I can't stop. 12-step group?

2. Fall fashion. I didn't think I liked the colors purple, or gray. I was wrong. So many pretty clothes!

3. Hurricane Hannah. My father lives on the coast of Georgia. As in: half a block from the Atlantic ocean. Also? He has a pilot's license and a risk-taking personality. (In case you where wondering where I sprang from...) Quote from a recent conversation: "Hell, I made it through two tours of Vietnam with people shooting at me, I can fly through anything." Jesus, Daddy, could you please evacuate by car if it comes to that, just so I don't have a heart attack?

So while I try to control the weather, politics, and my credit card balance, please enjoy the new Stranger column.

And hey - if I have met you, and you did, in fact, say one of the things I talk about in my column, that doesn't mean I think you're a terrible person and I could never like you, okay? I promise.

Politics: Huh. Apparently the two qualifications for being vice-president of the United States are a) boobs and b) a snarky turn of phrase and willingness to mock people. Nice to know I have another career option open to me. Since, you know, I myself possess both those traits.

As an aside: I bet Sarah Palin really pisses Dick Cheney off. I mean, the Republicans picking such a seriously under-qualified candidate - it kinda makes him look like a First Lady with a jockstrap, doesn't it?

Now, I'm certainly going to be talking some about politics until the election. Just so you know, I am actually not a hard-left kind of girl. I think of myself a political moderate, a centrist. I vote Democrat because the Republicans won’t stay out of my panties. Not that I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed that on some private occasions. But you know what I mean: the sex/reproductive rights issues.

However, the kind of Republicanism being displayed at the RNC makes me feel like Michael Moore. Only with boobs.

Pop Culture: I saw Tropic Thunder, and I know there’s some unhappiness about their use of the word “retard”, etc. However, I thought it was quite funny, and some of my best friends… Okay, not really. But as far as I know, the gay community is not upset by Jack Black’s passionate soliloquy about the blow-job he’d give to Brandon Jackson. (I know I may never recover from it.) If that speech didn’t send the gay boys shrieking out of the theater, well, surely everyone else can get a sense of humor, too.

Media: I have said in the past that a man looking to sell sex work services to women will starve to death. Well, I still don’t think you should quit your day job. But I think there’s a tiny bit more opportunity there than there used to be. I know someone personally - one might even say biblically - who’s doing all right. Here's a story from a UK paper on the subject – just fluff, really. But a small cultural indicator just the same.

Also from the Times: people who don’t think divorces should be easy to get should read this: professional seducers in Japan give unhappy spouses a way out. An interesting niche of sex work - and certainly one with room for the guys. But even if the “Family Values” party – ahem, excuse me, something seems to be sticking in my craw here, cough cough - gets elected, I can’t believe Mr. Second-Marriage McCain would take the country this way.

There’s also a lot of fuss in certain circles about this piece. Hipster Hookers, in Radar. I don’t know why, because I have read about a million jillion articles just like it. Hell, I know people who've written entire books on the topic. Elevator pitch: “Sweet young thing is titillated by sex work, but realizes at the last minute that she’s not that kind of girl”. Fresh and edgy, huh? NOT.

She may not be cut out to be an escort, however I think the author would make a great stripper, because this article is all tease and no delivery. Also, I can’t believe she gave the madame money. "Naïve and Gullible, party of one!"

Okay, I think I'm done demonstrating what a good Vice-President I'd be. Did I mention that I have boobs?