List of Previous Titles

Sunday, May 26, 2013

What just happened to the World?

One of the two murder suspects, with hands bloodied, and holding a knife and meat cleaver in Woolwich.

The world has been shocked by the events that unfolded at 2.20pm on a street in Woolwich, South London on an ordinary afternoon in May, 2013.

A soldier, now known as Lee Rigby, aged 25, left his barracks dressed in civilian clothes. He was immediately stalked by two men in a car, who, at the earliest opportunity ran him over on the sidewalk, then pounced upon him with a gun, and knives and a meat cleaver and had at him in a frenzied attack, apparently trying to cut his head off. Lee Rigby died in the attack. His self-confessed killers then dragged his body into the road, and then stood around talking to people while awaiting the police.

One woman, who was riding the bus, got off to give help at what she thought was a car accident. Upon realising what had actually happened, instead of running to safety she engaged one of the culprits, asking what he wanted or intended to achieve. His answer: to start a war in London tonight. Instead he has moved people to the peaceful degree that is beginning to look like the outpouring of emotion that the world saw for the late Princess Diana.

When the police arrived the men attacked the first car in an attempt to do the driver harm. They were shot and disabled. 

One man gave a statement to camera in which he apologised that women and children had to witness their attack, but said that the only reason they killed the soldier was as an act of an eye for an eye because Muslims are dying daily as they are killed by British soldiers.

The British war machine was called into theatres of operation in Iraq and Afghanistan, and indeed they will have killed Muslims that they deemed to be the enemy. However, the soldiers react to the orders that they are given, just as the two men seemed to be obeying orders given to them by some shadow command. That will make them no better than the man they killed. Should we now expect foreign wars to be acted out on the streets of towns and cities around the world?

Almost as an answer, a demonstration in London against violence by Islam brought out around 2000 people that resulted in a fierce clash against police. Meanwhile, over in Paris a uniformed soldier was attacked and stabbed in the neck by a man who fled. These are dangerous times when less than cool heads could set the bonfire that gets completely out of control.

America has always thought that it acted in good faith in its foreign adventures, but as time has proven it has often been mistaken. The Vietnam War was about keeping the Communist North from invading the South. America lost, and the South is now in Communist hands, and America is doing limited business with them.

On a day in September, 2001, America was attacked on its own shores, and it pushed back when it discovered that Afghanistan served as the base for the Taliban and Al Queada that authored the attack. It was seen as only normal that America would go after those who had done it harm, but the problem arose when America decided to attack Iraq on a contrived story that Iraq was planning to attack America by using a stockpile of Weapons of Mass Destruction.

They brought down Saddam and his family, and good riddance to them, but so many Muslims have lost their lives, and continue to do so that it is not difficult to see from where the passion of the two assailaints comes from. However, that has to be traced back to one single man and his misguided decision that has caused so many people unnecessary loss of life and suffering. That was wrong, and what the two men did against Lee Rigby and the British Army was wrong. The London demostration and the attack on the soldier in Paris are all wrongs, as will be anything along those lines to come. We need actions that are right, actions like those of the two women who tried to help, but although in spite of their apparent good intentions, I think they placed their own lives at great risk.

Lastly, I have to question what was in the mind of the woman, who was pulling a personal shopping bag on wheels, who left a small pocket of people and walked toward a lone killer with a knife and a meat cleaver still in his hand. I presume she walked right past him, when she should have gone the other way.

Sometimes, at moments like these people will do the strangest things. 

Copyright (c) 2013   Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, May 19, 2013

When your woman wants more than you can give.

Life is so much better when a couple are facing in the same direction and living in Sync.

I have encountered two articles on this subject lately, but I seem to remember writing on this same subject many years ago. The title could refer to almost anything, but we are talking bedroom talk. For such a long time the public conception was that sex was something that men did to women. If you were a woman you were supposed to cooperate with your man to keep him home and happy. Whether that was ever the truth, only history can say, but the modern reality is that women want sex, and they want to enjoy it every bit as much as their lover.

Women want orgasms! When do they want them? They want them now!

You only have to get a glimpse of lesbians playing together and that will put the lie to bed forever that women don't really like doing it. I suppose that as long as there have been lesbians their delicious pleasure has been a best kept secret. I'm not thrilled that women can have such a good time without me, but the fact is that they can, and regularly do.

Normally the man is the villian of the piece. His woman is constantly pestered by his demands for sex, and more sex. For some men his one woman is not enough. He has to go out chasing and cheating as though every woman needs him to satisfy them. However, we are now hearing about the shoe being on the other foot. How does this problem arise?

The most obvious way to avoid it happening is for a man not to marry a much younger trophy woman. You will age quicker than she will, so that when she is in her prime you will be over the bloody hill. When she is longing for a hard one three or four times in the night, you will be content with a good night's sleep. That's trouble, mister, with a capital T. I suppose if Viagra works for you that may be your life saver, but although that will give you a stiff one, will you have the will to use, and enjoy it?

Another way that the problem might arise is where there is a major difference in personalities. We hear that opposites attract, but the real question is whether that's a good basis to grow a solid relationship. After all, a man has to be aroused to be able to want a sexual relationship, but if you have an abusive woman that is unlikely to make you hard; but she, on the other hand may get her jollies by being abusive, to be followed by a good romp in bed. I'm afraid, that wouldn't do anything for me.

The main thing to emerge from a focus on this topic is the public realisation that women are equal. They are equal in so many ways, in fact in any way that they want to be, and in bed is so fundamental we have to ask ourselves why did we ever think anything different.

Copyright (c) 2013  Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Pornography! What Redeeming Qualities, if any?

Girl sitting without panties, and other depictions.
There are no wrong answers.

What is pornography?

According to The Oxford Dictionary, it is described as follows:
"The explicit description or exhibition of sexual activity in literature, films, etc,  intended to stimulate erotic, rather than aesthetic or emotional feelings."

I have no argument with this description, which also says to me that it is an entirely subjective matter. For instance, I look at the above picture and I am unmoved. What is clear to me is that because it is subjective, I have no authority to judge your tastes, and I will not accept your views regarding my own. However, there is an exception:

Pornographic material that features children or interaction with animals is unlawful and prohibited in decent society, and is therefore within the norms of public decency, unacceptable. Those who use and direct children in such activity are committing grave illegal acts and should be made to pay severe penalties.

Otherwise, where activities involve consenting adults we can choose to accept the material or to turn our backs. Here in Spain, normal family viewing television channels change their program content at midnight on Fridays and Saturdays to bring us as much porn as we might like. However, they use male/female couples and female same-sex couplings.

I do believe that the sex lives of same-sex couples mirror that of hetro-sexual couples in every way. Consequently, I imagine that two men can be tender and romantic and deeply loving in the expression of their love for one another, or simply for the fun of fucking, but I have no desire to witness it. I have never seen any such depictions and I have never seen anything involving children, and I hope never to come face to face with such material. However, if I did I don't think I would faint.

At this point, from time to time the news reports show police officers scrolling through this material. I cannot think of anything worse than being that officer having to troll through such pictures.

In my opinion, there should be a law against capturing on film  females on females having sex. This even sounds stupid to me, but the sight of those women having so much fun without any need for a man is horrifying to me. It makes me feel so completely useless and redundant that it is scary. I think that perhaps when we hear men speak so vehemently against lesbians, they are expressing their own horror at being deemed excess to requirements.

That leads me to consenting couples: it just may be my imagination but it seems that a man could walk up to a very beautiful woman and ask her to have sex with him on film, and she will likely enthusiastically agree. Of course, they are showing off their bodies while in the prime of life, and some are so incredibly perfect, they should only pose as eye candy. They are too beautiful to be put through such  paces. But, I think those who play on film have to really like mindless sex. (I have been there.)  I don't think it is a place for thinking and feeling, because you are in the glare of lights and crew, and I don't see any place for real genuine feeling. They are supposed to be actors simply playing a part. However, I wish they would pay more attention to lubrication.

I saw a clip of a man who was preparing to have sex with two women and he was self-stimulating to get  hard. What the hell is wrong with this picture? Having succeeded, that had nothing to do with the women, that was him achieving an erection all on his own. He might as well have gone on to climax on his own.

The bottom line is that sex, as spectator sport is really quite boring. If you are a man who is not getting sex, and you choose to watch others in action, that's kind of like not having anything to eat, and choosing instead to stand at a restaurant window to watch while a person inside devours a steak. That is a very unsatisfactory thing to do. Also, watching a lot of people having sex does not lead to a desire for more sex, it leads the other way.

So, what redeeming quality does pornography have for me?  Television offers me, apart from porn, the news, which is all about the effects of the economic crisis, small wars that result in more people being blown up, shot, stabbed, mugged, raped, abducted, trafficking of people, buildings falling and killing innocents, people losing limbs and lives while supporting wholesome activities, families having something to eat at fast food restaurants being shot to death, natural disasters, theft by bankers, corruption within governments, children who walk into school and shoot their classmates, fires, flooding, wives being killed by husbands, and the latest thing I heard was that in India several men have been arrested for actually sexually penetrating baby girls aged between four and six months.

Given that partial list of things, I could do worse than watch porn.

Copyright (c) 2013  Eugene Carmichael

Saturday, May 4, 2013

A Dream! A Fantasy!

Grandpa's Home!

In an earlier post I described how I had bought a pre-paid funeral plan from Golden Leaves Ltd, last August, and I had chosen cremation for my body. No sooner had I done that a September raging fire that covered six communities rolled over our house at 3.30 in the morning and we had to run for our lives, staying ahead of the fire by no more than one minute.

Let me make this abundantly clear: I choose cremation, but only AFTER I have well and truly finished with my body. Perhaps this was a case of being really careful about what you wish for.

A few nights ago I had one of those very long dreams that seem to take up the entire night. It was a really sweet dream in spite of the fact that it began with my death and cremation. My family were given my ashes to take with them, and as I am originally from the beautiful islands of Bermuda, they decided to make sure that my urn was unsinkable and indestructible so that they could float me in the Atlantic in the hope that I would find my way back to Bermuda.

They fit the urn with a tracking device and painted the destination on it, and together with family from Bermuda they travelled from Valencia, Spain to Lisbon, Portugal, and there, they caught an offshore breeze and gave me a gentle push. The monitor was given to my grandson, Ramon, who lives in the house that I purchased that is located along the Western shore in Bermuda.

Ramon tracked my movements every day. He could see that I had floated from Lisbon across to, and through the Azores. This is significant because Bermuda has many immigrants from the Azores who are a hard working, law abiding group of people who have given Bermuda much to be thankful for.

After the Azores I turned left and drifted Southeast down along the African coast until I washed ashore on the beach at Kribi, Cameroon. This was an important stop, because I have come to believe that my original ancestor was taken from Cameroon. For the past fourteen years, myself, together with a small group of people have adopted a village in the far north of Cameroon named Gouria. We have worked with the villagers to bring them forward into the 21st century, and in doing so I have come to be very close to my brothers and sisters in Cameroon. It was appropriate that I should make a stop at my spiritual home to bid Cameroon goodbye.

Some boys had found the urn and were about to take it home, but a tourist who knew what it was and who was literate in English convinced them to place me back in the water in a small ceremony. So, once again I was on my way. As luck would have it, one of the many storms to begin as tropical depressions off Africa took my urn across the Atlantic in a Northwesterly track and I ended up on the beach in Barbados.

My island of Bermuda is breathtakingly beautiful, but Barbados is indescribable. That country is also the host nation from which the original of the Carmichael family in Bermuda came.  My original ancestor was shipped to America as a slave on the estate of a Scotsman by the name of Robert Carmichael, from Glasgow. Hence our family name was taken from his as as brand. After emancipation, the freed Carmichaels left America and went to Barbados, and from there our Great, many times over grandfather, Nathaniel Daniel Carmichael made the very wise decision to emigrate to newly found Bermuda. I have one son, whose name is Nathaniel Daniel Edward Carmichael, which is a really big name to live up to, but he is more than capable.

Having touched shore in Barbados the urn was caught by the northerly current flows of the Sargasso Sea that brought the urn closer to Bermuda. Ramon could see that on the monitor, and in spite of the fact that he was himself getting on in years, he put everybody on notice that Grandpa was almost home. On one perfect Bermudaful day, early in the morning, my urn was just offshore from "MySugarAppleSunSet", the name of the house.

All the family and friends, including the media gathered on the lawn overlooking the ocean to watch as I gently drifted straight in on the waves to make a perfect docking in the lagoon below. They were all waving and my urn, moved by the sea waved back. And then, I woke up.

I would have added a part where they fit a giant sky rocket to the ashes, then sent it up into the air so that it could go off with a giant bang, scattering my ashes gently in the wind, with the ashes just reaching the shoreline and the cliff upon which the house sits. 

It's a fantasy that I thoroughly enjoyed in my dream. Perhaps it might not be too much of a fantasy to be made into a reality. Hint! Hint!

Copyright (c) 2013  Eugene Carmichael