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DesDownunder

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Blog Entries posted by DesDownunder

  1. DesDownunder

    Rewards of Despair

    By DesDownunder,

    Okay there are several threads where I might post this op-ed with some degree of being relevant and not off topic, but Ive decided that here might be as good as anywhere. Just be warned I'm in a philosophical mood. As always, feel free to comment.
    Rewards of Despair
    © 2011
    by Desmond Rutherford
    The circumstances of one's life are often overlooked as being a significant contributing factor for creative work, and yet adverse conditions might be used to dismiss the opportunity to create. Trying to write, compose, or even live, whilst constrained by one catastrophe after another is, obviously, challenging. The uncertainty of not knowing if the bed you got out of this morning will still be yours tonight is not something that provides the most stable environment conducive to creativity. It seems that we can recognise the emptiness of our own personal apocalypse, simply through our life's circumstances.
    Sometimes it seems that no matter what we do, life goes from bad to worse, to virtually impossible. Anxiety, fear, and terror may be the consequence of real dangers or they may be anticipations, the sequels of irrational conjecture, but the effect is the same. Sadly, they give rise to anxiety that we know will lead too many people into seeking a solution that is tragic for all of us. But there is also a less desolate aspect to threatening situations, that can permit us to learn from the experience, even though it nearly incapacitates us. Suffering does give us an insight into the human condition, with all its foibles and its hopes. And it does take courage and bravery to live through anxieties, and we are brave and courageous if we dare to look horror in the eye and scream, "I want to live," as loudly as we can. Just screaming that you aren't going to take it anymore, is not enough; you must demand to live. I know it can seem impossible...I've felt despair too. I've seen the horrors in the faces of others, reflected in and lurking behind their eyes, in the dungeons of their minds. And I am humbled when I have little, and they have nothing...but their determination to go on living.
    Despair can lead to depression, and depression is restrictive, immobilising to paralysis, and yet courage can be born of desperation, inspiring us to find its truth, reality, depth and recognise that horror does not last forever, even though we may be affected for the rest of our lives, from having experienced the despair and depression. If we have ever asked why life is so full of such experiences, then we are on the brink of realising that life is those experiences, and it is our place to observe them, embrace them, use them, and make an art form of them, one that is as unique as we are; each of us.
    To live through horror, persecution and deprivation is not unknown to many peoples; indeed, LGBTQ people seem to be rather adept at learning how to survive in a hostile world. And it's not merely a matter of what we survive making us stronger, it's a matter of daring to live and love in the face of adversity; daring to shout, “Yes!” to life and living it. And then, with that innate human desire to express ourselves artistically, we feel impelled to take our discoveries, our thoughts and stories, and scratch them into the face of the Earth, so others may see them, share them, feel comforted, informed, inspired, entertained, or just so someone else knows that wonder exists, and that we can tell each other about it.
    Compassion comes in many guises, but it must be true at its core, real truth without superstitions, and the truth of reality is not always easy to handle, but is its own reward, because it demands we live life fully, in the here and now, searching for the only sane and satisfactory reason for existence...Love.
    "The job of the artist is not to succumb to despair but to find an antidote for the emptiness of existence.” - Gertrude Stein from the 2011 movie, Midnight in Paris.
  2. DesDownunder

    Serving the Enemy

    By DesDownunder,

    So we have a complaint of too little blogging. I agree we need more blogging.
    I think also, we succumb to the depressing times in which we live and no one feels like writing when they are feeling down.
    On the other hand, what better time to pen a light-hearted look at the misery that surrounds us?
    Like General Custer we are circled by promises of our doom and the arrows of outrageous misfortune to be living in these most irrational new dark ages. If we circle the wagons against the enemy we will never know what we might achieve if we invite them into our midst for coffee and donuts, instead of shooting at them.
    I've actually wondered if you could use a bevy of donuts as some kind of edible condom. Jelly or jam filling would probably be needed to keep them slippery, at least till cream was made available.
    The problem is, after you have eaten the donuts and drank the coffee, what else can you do to cement relations with those who wish to murder you and your loved ones. Hoping that they won't murder your entire family because you gave them a fried cake and a cup of coffee, might possibly be wishful thinking.
    "Donuts," chants the enemy, "Donuts, donuts, now."
    The trouble is we have little flour and coffee left.
    Poised on the mound of hopelessness,
    We look across the plain,
    Seeking in vain,
    The sign of cavalry charging,
    To our rescue,
    With more supplies,
    But they never came,
    So we mix up the last of the flour
    And make the donuts,
    Our enemies require.
    "Make with the donuts,"
    Our enemies yell,
    It seems like they have seen,
    The wisdom of safe eating,
    The donuts we supply,
    And we carefully slide them onto,
    Their upright brave young men,
    Who then consume them,
    With our help.
    For who are we,
    To complain or disagree,
    If coffee and donuts,
    Can save the day,
    Let us feast all night,
    If it will put things right,
    For in the morning,
    The troops will arrive
    And they will have more
    Coffee and flour,
    But again they scream, "Donuts, donuts."
    Alas, our flour is all gone.
    A meeting has been called
    Between their leader and ours,
    Who tries to explain,
    That more flour is on the way.
    "We don't care about that,"
    Says their chief,
    "You slide those ring-shaped cakes onto us and then help eat them, slurping over us, creating great excitement. We just want to know, when are you going to do our nuts?"
    Like all disputes, usually someone has misconstrued what the other side wants, and sometimes it is what we both want.

  3. DesDownunder
    So there I was sitting quietly minding my own business when the phone squawked.
    It didn't ring, it squawked like a duck with the flu. Which flu? How the hell do I know? There are so many hideous diseases getting around and I'm only a poor hypochondriac, not a doctor.
    Speaking of the doctor, I showed him my leg last Tuesday. He said he wasn't impressed.
    "No, no," I told him, "look there," and I pointed at the scaly red mark just below my knee.
    "Is it skin cancer?"
    "Tell me," asked the doctor, "When was the last time your knee was bathed in sunlight?"
    "Hmm that would have been in 1979 at the beach just before sunset."
    "Doesn't count."
    "I was trying to look seductive for the guy in the tight cut off jeans."
    "I don't want to know," said the doc.
    "So it isn't cancer, what about that awful flesh eating disease, or leprosy?" I asked in my most serious whiny voice.
    "It's a slight case of eczema, nothing to worry about. Put this cream on it." He handed me a small sample tube of ointment.
    "This is the same stuff you gave me when I had a chafed dick," I told him.
    "There is nothing wrong with your memory. Yes, it is the same white cream; the one you told me that when you rubbed it into your dick, it came straight out again." He chuckled. "I don't expect you will have that problem with your knee."
    "I do hope not," I said and thanked him as I left.
    **************
    The phone squawked again, bringing me back to the present.
    "Hello?" I answered not really certain whether anyone was actually calling me.
    "Do you want a job?" asked a male voice.
    "A head job?" I inquired.
    "Yeah, right. At least I know I dialled the right number. We need someone to do a shift tonight."
    I was so excited. Someone had taken ill and they needed me to fill in at the cinema where I used to work, and the money would be more than welcome.
    Thirty-six hours later, I am in agony. Every muscle in my body is revolting. Well that isn't really new, my muscles have never been my best feature. I don't remember work being this exhausting. I looked up the operator's handbook I got when I was born and sure enough there on page 547 is the warning about not going back to work after you retire, it will deplete what little energy you have left.
    I laid on the bed breathing...after a fashion. I'd go to the doctor if I felt better.
    If I live long enough I will type this up for my blog as a warning to others.
    As for the phone, it doesn't squawk any more, I unplugged it.

  4. DesDownunder
    I don't understand all this fuss about a financial crisis. I've been in a financial crisis for over ten years. Every time we use up the limit on the credit we just get the bank to extend the limit. Sexual deficiency is the only real crisis worth worrying about. So far I reckon we have another 12 months before we run out of money again, but wait, I will soon have the pension money coming in and that will have to help.
    So I reckon the banks should extend everyone's credit limit and then we wouldn't have a crisis.
    The girl at our bank thinks the balance on our account is what we have deposited in the bank. She doesn't realise it is what we owe. She smiles at me and says we are doing quite well. (She's not talking about my sex life.) I think she should be put in charge of the International Monetary Fund.
    My health is better lately, but I still have a sleeping problem -he snores.
    So I have to sit up until 5 or 6am when I become tired enough to sleep through the sound of the gale force wind coming from my beloved's nostrils. I'm always surprised that he can grow hair up in those things. His nose hair sways like the palm trees in a tornado.
    Have you ever watched anyone sleep? Fascinating. Definitely an R rated activity after 30. Before 30 of course, it is an X rated biological process. After 40 it becomes more wishful thinking than an activity. And once you get to 50, you can't wait to sleep so you can dream about what it was like when you were under 20. At 60...what was the question again?
    Oh, yes the financial crisis. I wonder if the bank will give me enough credit for the Chinese aphrodisiac herb that lets me think I am 20 while I am awake? It's a great herb. I just wish it affected more than my brain. If you take too much of it it makes you feel like a real dickhead.
    Of course when it comes to one's sexual apparatus, it is true that you must keep using it or you will lose it, what they don't tell you is that after 60 when you use it, you pass out on the bed afterwards. Oh well at least I look like I am sleeping.
    Wake me up when the crisis is over.
  5. DesDownunder

    Stupidity

    By DesDownunder,

    Hello, hello, is this thing working? I don't know what is wrong but the date for the blog entries are stuck in 2009, there is no 2010. How stupid is that?
    It was the same with my last entry, but I set it for the December 31 2009 and it posted as January 1 2010. How crazy mixed up is that? I wonder what will happen this time?
    I've had a great idea for writing a story. I will write the first paragraph and post it as being December 31 2009. Then when it changes to January 1 2010, I will find that the story has finished itself. Easy.

    Does anyone else have a problem with the way things are proceeding this year? I have a theory that the aliens have let loose with a stupid virus and it is affecting everyone except members of AwesomeDude. So if you want to avoid being stupid, join AwesomeDude Forums right now!
    It also seems that just writing to any of our authors and letting them know you read their stories will also protect you from this dreaded virus. Of course it will, writing to an author is never stupid.
    Speaking of stupid, I have to buy a new DVD polisher/scratch repair machine for the video store, the old one finally stopped working. Chewing gum and rubber bands are no longer sufficient to keep it running.
    I looked at all the machines that are available in OZ, including a locally distributed model from the US. Guess what? The Us one has a timer on the polish fluid tank, so you have to change the polishing fluid when they want you to, and not when you decide it needs changing, just like on some computer printers which force you to change the ink cartridge even when there is plenty of ink still in the tank. Stupid!
    I found another machine, almost identical, slightly cheaper, made in Oz (so it will come with its own supply of rubber bands) and it doesn't time out. Hooray for Oz.
    We are about to enter our annual stupid season here in Adelaide. Between now and March we will have a plethora of Festivals, car and horse races (separate events -we're not that stupid...yet), as well as an election for our state government, when we will be able to elect...(yes you guessed it)... stupid people...to govern us for the next 4 years. I'm not hopeful of anything but a disastrously stupid result.
    Our politicians are no better than anywhere else, all are intent on passing draconian the barbarian type laws to protect us from being stupid, (politicians excepted, no one can cure politicians' stupidity, which explains why they think that passing laws against people being stupid will actually work.)
    It would be far better to pass a law which made stupidity compulsory, then no one would want to do it, (except politicians and middle management types.) Senior executives on the other hand are not stupid you know, they are just wallowing in their ill-gotten gains which the poor people were stupid enough to give them.
    We are already seeing a record number of people standing as candidates for the election. The electorate where I live will almost certain re-elect the sitting religious-extremist left winger. An oxymoron, do I hear you say? No, not really, he is just stupid, dangerously stupid, unfortunately.
    Our left wing party is now more right wing on social issues than the right wing party is. On other issues they haven't a clue, but then neither does the opposition who are just plain, very plainly, stupid, and ugly.
    I think both parties will try their hand at Obama type rhetoric with an Aussie accent, which will be not only stupid, but excruciating to say the least.
    The GLTB will mount a campaign to find out which politicians support gay marriage. That is interesting but a little stupid as the state government cannot override the Ozzie federal marriage law which does not permit same sex marriage even though it grants us the same benefits, and if that sounds stupid to you, you re right, but their Christian beliefs stop them from passing gay marriage laws.
    I conclude with a quote I saw on the Net. Don't these people realise that "Jesus had two dads?"
    I am so glad I am member of AwesomeDude.
    Avoid the stupidity join AwesomeDude Forums, today.
  6. DesDownunder
    So I have been laid up with the flu. Was it Swine Flu? Well it wasn't all that pleasant. I still have a cough, but if it was the swine flu I least had something in common with Harry Potter actor, Rupert Grint. He seems to have got on top of it and I seem to have done the same, though I like the idea that either he or I got on top.
    As I say I still have a cough, but mainly my voice is husky; husky as in hoarse, not as in horse which if I got on top of, might mean I was in the play, Equus, which would be good except that it is too cold here for the nude scene and I wouldn't want to get the flu back. Hmm if I did that might mean I have some kind of horse flu.
    My voice being all husky might also mean I didn't have the swine flu, it might have been dog flu I caught from a husky. No that's being silly, I haven't been near a dog, except for some...no I won't go there.
    I did go to the doctor, who seemed quite surprised I was alive and walking. He listened to my lungs with his stethoscope and asked me to cough. If I could have given him one of my evil smiles I would have, but ever willing to do exactly what the cute doctor wants me to do, I began coughing and hawked up some flying phlegm which did a free fall on to the middle of his desk.
    The doctor just looked at it. "Do you need a specimen?" I asked batting my innocent blue eyes.
    "It's okay," said the doc, "I wanted a new desk, anyway."
    "You could always disinfect it," I told him.
    We both leaned over the table to inspect the 'specimen.'
    He looked at it and announced it was typical and didn't appear to be anything nasty, then he looked at me and asked if I felt okay.
    " I feel great," I said, "It looks like my throat just orgasmed on your desk."
    "Can we skip the description of your afterglow?" he asked.
    "Okay I said, anyway now it's your turn."
    "I think not," he said as he put his stethoscope away, "Come back in a fortnight and we'll see how you are."
    "That's it?" I asked, "Come back in two weeks, what if I have the horse flu?"
    "Horse flu?" he asked and I smiled to myself, I had him where I wanted him and he was going to be the recipient of my pun for the week, when he suddenly announced, "Horse flu is not like bird flu, it won't fly."
    "That's what they said about the pigs before they took off and flew," I triumphantly announced.
    "I don't have time for this," he said and handed me a script.
    "What's this for?" I asked.
    "Pain relief, " he told me, "In case you tell yourself one of your puns."
    The doc likes to get in the last word.
  7. DesDownunder
    I don't get the local newspaper anymore, I stopped its delivery 14 years ago, (1995). The milkman used to deliver the milk, from his horse-drawn milk-van, but he stopped ages ago. The horse would move down the street and stop at the customer's houses without any direction from the milkman.
    The bread used to be delivered daily when I was a kid, and a big truck used to stop outside our house on Thursdays, selling fruit and vegetables. I can even remember the ice man delivering blocks of ice for the ice-chest before we bought our first fridge.
    Grandma had a washboard which she used to scrub the dirty clothes, and a big copper pot with a built in wood-fired furnace to boil water. She would boil the sheets and towels in it. She also used it to scald the chickens after she had decapitated them with an axe. The scalding made the feathers easier to pluck.
    She also had the luxury of a hand operated wringer consisting of two rubber rollers through which you passed the washed clothes to squeeze out some of the water.
    The wood stove in the kitchen wasn't made from wood, but from heavy cast metal with hotplates just above the cavity where you burned the wood for heating the pans on the hotplates.
    Carpets had to be taken outside the house and hit with a handheld beater to beat the dust out of them. You would have to shower off the dust on yourself afterwards.
    Doctors made house-calls, but you had to walk to the chemist shop to get the prescription filled, if you lived long enough to get there.
    There was no telephone in our house, but there was a public phone-booth down the street and calls cost 2 pennies. Taxis were quite expensive and cost about 40 cents for the first mile.
    Hospitals smelt of ether and disinfectant, either of which encouraged people to throw up, and you would be lucky to come out still breathing, which was something patients did almost under protest.
    There was no hand basin in our bathroom at home. You had to lean over the bathtub and use the bath tap to wash your hands and clean your teeth.
    The old gas heater to warm the water for a shower or bath, exploded into life with a flame that was half the height of a man. More than once I heard reports of someone being blown up while taking a shower.
    Luckily we had a mirror (tarnished) in a splintered wooden frame, to allow us to see that we had combed our hair with enough oil or grease to lube the car that nobody on our street could afford.
    In winter we warmed ourselves with an open fire in the built-in fire place in the living room and rubber hot water bottles in our beds. In summer we sweated in front of an electric fan. The rich folk on the other side of town perspired in front of bigger fans.
    The toilet was out the back of the house and had no light except the candle you took with you. You pulled a chain hanging from the water cistern above your head to flush the toilet. Spiders built there cobwebs in every corner of the toilet. Sometimes it was like going into an Indiana Jone's Tomb of Terror just to have a pee.
    We had the luxury of electric lights -one per room, which we had to remember to turn on and off, when we entered or left the room to save money.
    I walked a mile to school every week day, and on Saturdays, I walked a mile in the other direction to go to the special kids matinee screening of a movie at the local 'picture theatre'. We usually got a B grade movie, cartoons, a serial, and a main movie after an intermission when we bought lots of candy and ice cream, no popcorn in those days. There were prizes for competitions and boys and girls who were in the birthday club. The movies cost the equivalent of 15 cents. (One shilling and threepence.) The candy was about 1o cents a box.
    You could buy your lunch at school from the canteen which was run by the ladies' auxiliary. 30 cents would see you with a cholesterol packed lunch of meat pie, pasty, a cream bun and a drink. Sauce (ketchup) was a penny extra for the pie or pasty. A cordial drink was sixpence (5 cents).
    The radio was the main source of entertainment in the home and at night after the evening meal of meat and three vegetables, the family would sit around listening to radio plays, quiz shows and serialised stories. It was much like free to air television without the pictures and a whole lot less hype. I still think the radio plays served to inspire images that today's movies provide without much effort on our part other than to convince ourselves that the digital effects are real.
    After school, the neighbourhood kids would play ball games in the street, only stopping for the occasional car or horse riders to go past, and that was a main road.
    Saturday nights my family would take the bus or tram to go out dancing to any of the various hotels or clubs. No gambling, no striptease, just good big band music for dancing waltzes and foxtrots, etc., with alcoholic beverages. We kids would play hide and seek behind the club. (Not that kind of hide and seek, you dirty minded people. We were not yet even 11 years old.)
    Speaking of dirty minded people, policemen would arrest men they discovered, (often by entrapment) in public toilets and parks, for 'acts of gross indecency' and the penalty for the guilty could be jail for up to 2 years with hard labour. These cases were listed in the "Cause List" in the local newspaper and were eagerly, even if with dread, read by gay men to see if any of their friends had been arrested.
    Then came rock n' roll, and by 1960 everything changed, forever...but that is another era, to be followed by yet others.
  8. DesDownunder
    Announcing: New category in my blog: Deeper thoughts of an Orangutan.
    I am thinking I might like to write some thoughts, essays or viewpoints on various subjects that are perhaps a little abstract, maybe nonsensical or even politically incorrect. I might even write an address to the people of Earth, once I am certain the mother-ship is on the way to pick me and take me home.
    Anyway I have created a category in my blog for subjects that are somewhat more outsopken. If I can ever get time, I may even video them and put them on youtube.
    I also want to see how the Categories system works in the blogs. So we may never get more than this post if I cannot find it again.
    In the mean time think on this:
    If I have a thought today, that affects what I will think tomorrow, why didn't yesterday's thought, about today, have any affect at all?

  9. DesDownunder
    It's good news.
    Centrelink, the government agency that handles Aussie welfare rang me today and told me that my claim for the age pension has been granted.
    A very nice sympathetic woman told me that I would enjoy a full pension rate until July 1st when my "marriage like" relationship would be recognised and they would then pay me less. (How nice.)
    The lovely lady inspired me with confidence in the system as she informed me that my special senior's card would be posted soon and I would be able to claim concession rates on the phone bill, electricity, driver's licence, water and council rates, etc.
    She then went on to tell me that the government hoped I wouldn't live too long as my pension payment was a drain on the public purse.
    However they would prefer I didn't die just yet as when I do, they will pay my "marriage like" partner a lump sum to help with funeral costs, and as it is reasonable amount, they don't want to have pay it at present as they are running a bit short of funds.
    On the other hand if I would like to do some volunteer work in helping young people become skilled in my line of work, they would be happy to accommodate that. I told her I could show them how to keep being able to have orgasms after 40, but she said there were somethings people had to learn to do for themselves. That's what I meant, I told her, but she said she was referring to my job.
    I explained that my job was now done by computers and that nobody was interested in doing the job properly, she told me I shouldn't let that stop me from having a fruitful relationship with younger people in the community. hmmm.
    I resisted the temptation to ask her if that included showing guys how to use a condom. She did tell me her brother was gay and that was why she was working in the "same-sex marriage like" division of Centrelink. Again I resisted temptation by not asking for her brother's phone number of if he was a top or a bottom.
    She told me if I became ill, that I could go straight to hospital and receive free treatment as soon as the 3 year backlog of patients was cleared up. I had a vision of them sweeping cadavers out of the front gates into the street for collection on Tuesdays. In any case she assured me if it was something serious and I was at death's door, they would have a doctor pull me through as soon as possible.
    She told me too, that there was a home service for meals if I became unable to cook for myself. I told her my grandmother had that service just before she died. That made her laugh out loud, and she replied that the food was better now, even if she would rather starve than eat it.
    Before she ended the phone call she advised me that someone would ring to check up on me, if I lived too long, to see how I was going and if there was anything they could do to help me...presumably to drop dead sooner, rather than later.
    Happily she told me that the new law about people not receiving the age pension until they reached 67 would not apply to me as I was already on the scrap heap.
    Anyway I guess I am now a fully fledged member of that group known as cantankerous, grumpy, dirty old men.
    Perhaps I could get a job as Santa, next Christmas. Ho ho ho.
  10. DesDownunder
    The Doctor
    So, I haven't been making many comments in this here Blogging thingy, mainly because of all the issues we had organising our finances and preparing for our dementia which will hopefully be delayed by all the supplements and vitamins I take.
    I showed the doctor all my pills and powders, and gave him the print outs of all the websites that proclaim longevity if you take this and don't eat that. He perused the documents with what I suspect was related to Pecman's speed reading faculty.
    The doctor looked up and told me that he had no idea so much research was being done on alternative treatment to keep people alive. His experience was confined to merely getting his patients in contact with big pharma which he doesn't trust much more than I do, but sometimes pharmaceuticals offer the best answer to maintaining a quality of life when quantity of life is teetering on being compromised.
    I told the doctor that if you didn't take the medicine you die in two weeks, but if you did take the medicine you would die in a fortnight. He grinned and said I sounded like his old med school professor.
    I was relieved to know that all my test results were in normal range and I could expect to survive somewhat longer than my hypochondria predicted.
    The Taxi Drivers
    I had to travel to and from the doctor in a taxi because the beloved one is using the car to go work. The taxi driver going to the doctor was a serious Middle Eastern gentleman. It seems like the Muslim invasion in Australia is starting with taking over our taxi fleets.
    The taxi driver on the way home was, I suspect, of Mediterranean origin. He was friendly and courteous.
    When we pulled up at my house he announced that he was going home to his family as he had had enough for the day.
    I told him I was going to make some coffee and go on the Internet.
    He asked, "Does your wife complain?"
    "I don't have a wife," I replied.
    "What about a girlfriend?" he inquired.
    "I don't have a girlfriend...I have a boyfriend."
    He eyes widened and he turned in his seat to look at me.
    O, this is interesting, I thought to myself.
    He stuttered and finally managed to say, "Oh so you are one of th..er, one that comes from that side."
    Then he quickly followed with, "Do you enjoy that? Does your boyfriend?"
    "Well, we've been doing it for over 40 years, so I guess we enjoy it."
    "Forty years, together?"
    "Yes," I said. (Did he think we did it in separate rooms?)
    He was getting excited as he told me that he and his wife were married for 40 years. He then held up his closed fist and I knew that Harvey Milk was right, you just have to let people know who you are and they will bump fists with you, which we did, celebrating our common pursuit of marital happiness. He smiled as I exited the cab and then he drove away.
    I wondered if I would have told the first taxi driver...somehow I don't think so, but then again, the opportunity never arose.
  11. DesDownunder

    Time and Sex

    By DesDownunder,

    How long does it take to achieve orgasm? This was discussed at Joe My God, and I thought I should share my answer with you here in my blog.
    Under 25: From slack to spit in 60 seconds.
    After 40: Use it or lose it. Make sure you have at least 3 orgasms a week. (with or without a partner.) If you do this then you should be able to have an orgasm once or twice a week after 60. Chinese herbs can assist the elderly and are safer than Viagra in my opinion. (You don't need them when you are younger.)
    However at any age, 17 -30 minutes for the entire act (including foreplay) was considered the norm around 1970. Of course that doesn't include emergency sex in tea rooms, cottages, or a quick flip in the park, where the act was finished much faster than the investigation of making sure the other person actually wanted to attempt a world record for having a climax.
    Much of the myth of the male orgasm being only possible once or twice a day is related to puritan attitudes and the imposition of guilt about pleasure.
    Why religions are obsessed with restricting sex is an obscenity in itself and is a crime against individual freedom.
    After orgasm number one, anal penetration can provide the stimulation for orgasm number 2, in less than a minute or two. Of course it is more fun to wait and engage in more fore-play, or if you want to be more accurate, "in-between-play." The important thing is to listen to your body if it wants to rest then wait, but don't fall for the restrictions placed on us that once, is all that is possible. There is nothing "sinful" about having an orgasm or three, (or more.) Even so, you don't need to do it just because you can, unless you want to. Sometimes saving it is pleasurable too.
    Of course people differ, both in capacity as well as volume, but the greatest aphrodisiac is "wanting it."
    As for time, well, timing a simultaneous orgasm is more exciting and fulfilling than measuring the time it all takes with a stop-watch.
    A straight friend who bemoaned the fact the he and his wife never wanted sex at the same time, once had a moment of enlightenment when he commented, "Oh wow, I get it, two men do it when they both want it, and that is all the time."
    How long it takes varies from day to day, partner to partner, place to place and of course the urgency of the moment...and then there is the romance of it all to consider, which can use time to achieve new levels of extended, heightened experience, but that is called being in love and knows no boundaries but being with the one you love, and that is when time no longer exists as we play among the stars with each other.
  12. DesDownunder
    In time I may get around to describing how we have overcome the horrors of the last 4 years. Suffice it to say, for now, that my lover and I have been able to reduce our mortgage repayments to next to nothing by subdividing the land on which our house stands. We keep our house and have a smaller mortgage and back yard to look after. Hooray!
    If I said that we had to survive on the smell of an oily rag with no surplus for the niceties of life, let alone the occasional treat, I would not be lying. Somehow we managed to feed ourselves and meet our financial obligations, albeit watching our debt increase as unexpected expenses intruded on our hopes and dreams.
    My time for reading and writing has been severely limited, but I am hopeful I will gain more free time in the near future for being creative.
    The stress and tension we have suffered caused us both much depression and only the thought and knowledge that no matter how bad things got, there were many others on the planet who were much worse off than us. Many years ago I had asked myself how I could justify living in Australia with all its advantages and luxuries. I thought that if I devoted myself to doing my job and living as best I could for the enrichment of human experience, then perhaps I would offset, for future generations, those who suffered in the lands of misery where I could not even go.
    Some might think that was just a rationalisation so I could do whatever I wanted. Perhaps at times it was, but I have never given up hope of doing something worthwhile; of providing whatever goodness I could for the human condition. So, to find myself facing the bleakness of poverty in old age limiting even being able to smile or crack a joke, has been a sobering experience. It seems that desperation and despair are never degrees of the horror that can befall any of us; when you lose everything you are left only two things, hope and the intangible possibility of finding love, making love. It's not until you are faced with desolation that you finally realise that love is something you get by giving it away to someone else. Therefore, we can't hope for love, we create love. Our hope is for a life that goes on long enough to create love with, and for each other, wherever you may live.
    To those who gave us their love and help during these years of turmoil, and you know who you are, we could say thank you, but we will simply love you for as long as we live.
    Now where did I put that folder of notes for stories, and will I be able to make sense of them?
  13. DesDownunder

    Why Dildo?

    By DesDownunder,

    Timmy at, 'A Place Of Safety' recently posted this ad for making a dildo of yourself, and then asked why?
    So I replied thus:
    I can think of four reasons, Timmy.
    1. It allows the individual to experience what others experience when he is topping them.
    2. It would make a nice conversation piece on the coffee table. At least it would alert the overnight guest as to what he is in for, as well as letting your visiting parents know how much you have matured.
    3. As a parting gift to one's ex boyfriend. (Also as a bequeathed item in one's last will and testament. If copies are made, everyone could have one, and they could be 'handled' around at the funeral service.)
    4. Because most people like to oblige others, the newly made dildo from your own member will assist you to fulfil the direction sometimes made by others to, "Go F**k yourself."
    I am also interested in testing a pet theory of mine that the individual's rectum is probably the inverse shape of one's own penis. If this is true then the dildo should be a very snug and satisfying fit.
    Of course it might be better to find one's body twin, er...sorry I mean, soul mate.
    No doubt y'all will have some alternative reasons.
  14. DesDownunder
    I sneezed.
    So I have been sniffling with an inflamed throat, and headache. I don't think it is swine flu or bird flew, but who knows? I'm not going to the doctor either, because if it is swine flu and he catches it from me then who will I consult if I get the Elbo virus?
    Hmmm wait a minute, that's the Ebola virus. Silly me, my elbow can't get a virus can it? Can it?
    The worst thing about a cold, I'm sure that's all I have, is sitting around waiting until you to feel better so you can then go and feel the bf.
    I suppose I could go and feel someone under 30 and if they start sneezing and die I will know that I have the swine flu.
    I know you can sit and watch TV until you feel better but it just makes me feel worse.
    I'd rather sit and read the stories at AD if I could stop sneezing all over the keyboard. Damn if the bf sees the nasal purge all over the keyboard, he will think I started without him. Well not so much started as finished I suppose I should say.
    kmfghoaslrvzb btt GSGJ,.IODXSxnne454642m-kp
    There, I have cleaned the nose spray off the keyboard. It looks so much better. The keyboard, not my nose.
    I just wrapped the keyboard in plastic cling wrap. That should solve the problems.
    Damn I just sneezed all over the monitor screen.
    I'm going to bed. Hope I don't sneeze all over the sheets.
  15. DesDownunder
    Do I need to tell you what I am going to do with this, even though it means I will become destitute...again?
    Y ‘Management’?
    What exactly is the problem with the current generation of management? They go out of their way to call in experienced staff and then seemingly setting them up to belittle them, and their experience. Having now lived with this new management style in a number of different situations, I am absolutely fed up with management's incompetence and disrespect.
    It seems like managers are always too busy to listen to the advice that they ask for, and then demand that the task, whatever it happens to be, be done their way, despite the advice proffered. When it is pointed out that there are inherent dangers in the task being performed in the way demanded, they then play the old game of overriding the staff’s advice with, "I'm the manager, and you must do as I say."
    If that isn’t bad enough, some time later, when the manager returns to find the staff complying, and performing the task as he demanded, he insists that it is dangerous, and that they are not to do that again. He has completely ignored his own responsibility for the situation, and leaves the staff in a state of disbelief.
    This creates stress, anxiety and tension in the staff, to such a degree that only three outcomes are possible.
    1. The staff attempts to continue working; an accident occurs, with endangerment to the staff or the equipment, or both.
    2. The staff leaves, because they believe their resignation is what the manager is trying to engineer by the above tactics.
    3. The staff leaves because they do not want to become a casualty, or work under what they feel are intimidating conditions.
    It is this last one that often leaves the management in a perplexed state of mind. Modern managers feel that they have done nothing wrong, when in reality, they understand neither the nature of the human relationships involved, including the employees’ relationship to their environment, nor the limitations of the equipment.
    They justify their demands for the sake of a client, or an outcome, without seeing that the way they relate to the staff actually increases the risk of catastrophe to personnel, equipment or that all important, outcome. Of course, when even minor infractions of work place events cause problems, it is believed to be the fault of the staff. Such managers rarely realise that their own inability to relate to the warnings from the staff is the root cause of the resulting problems; even seemingly unrelated problems, due to stress. In addition, when the manager thinks he knows better than experienced qualified staff and physically interferes in the work place, any resulting disaster is considered to be due to the staff’s incompetence, or failure to understand what the manager wanted. In fact, any disaster is very often because the management does not allow for the experienced methodology of the staff; the very same staff who were chosen for their experience. At best, non-existent or confusing communication can be traced back as the underlying problem.
    How have this generation of managers reached their positions of power with so little understanding of effectively managing their employees? Much of the problem is due to generation ‘Y’ managers having only an administration degree that included instruction in regarding ‘human resources’ as being ‘things’ to be used, instead of them being people with whom to collaborate. This is much the same as the much older school of management, which was taught to regard the staff as the enemy; as employees never giving worthwhile service unless they "came to work with fear in their bellies."
    Good managers do not need to know every detail of the workplace environment if they have a relationship of trust with their employees, and on whom they can rely to furnish relevant advice on the operation and maintenance of the equipment. Previously, older managers had generally acquired their business knowledge and human relationship skills on the job, over many years of workplace experience.
    Sadly, this management expertise is no longer being passed down from older managers to younger ones, resulting in people's livelihoods, and lives, being endangered because of the mentoring legacy having been largely abandoned.
    This places further tension on management, and also stresses the staff, who cannot help but believe that, when their advice is ignored, or they are told that an instruction was given when it clearly was not, they (the employees) are being given a less than subtle 'hint' to resign.
    ‘Hands-on’ management is seriously compromising when it does not recognise the areas of skill and knowledge that should be left for the employees to provide. The result of this management style can only be less satisfactory than it should be, with much unhappiness for all involved.
    However, when the situation has reached the impasse of confrontation between manipulation and defence, the outcome is usually defeat for both parties, ending in replacement of personnel.
    It really doesn’t matter whether the more experienced staff cannot handle the new managerial methods, or the new managers can’t relate to skilled workers, the effect is the same; management is frustrated, and employees feel dehumanised, and disconnected from their work.
    The employees will always find themselves disadvantaged in any appeal to higher authorities, controlling or affecting the organisation, who have a vested interest in supporting the managers they have hired. But the actual events which lead to that appeal usually have repercussions for the managers as well, unless the employees decide to step aside gracefully in an effort to not harm the welfare of the organisation...for which they may still have an affection.
    And that is something these managers just do not understand. Worse, are the mental contortions that they enlist to dismiss even the best-intended help, such as contained in this essay.

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