Here, There and Everywhere

Posts tagged ‘pleasure’

Samurai’s and Dildos

Hot Love Inferno – Prophecy Allocation Series Book Two by Nicky Blue.
Reviewed by Gabriel Constans.

41qmTGabhiL._SY346_Once again, Mr. Blue provides a wonderfully creative, bizarre, and entertaining tale, that has the awkward hero and gardener, Barry, using his debatable ninja skills to fin an attempt to rescue his girlfriend Flo from the Pleasure Factory, where she has been taken by three seven feet high, helmeted samurai warriors from a different dimension and time. Luckily, Barry is not alone in his quest, as he is assisted by a dog named Keith, Dr. Harper, and an ancient Goddess called Mrs. Jittery Twitch.

Hot Love Inferno is a cosmic compilation of every genre imaginable – sci-fi, fantasy, horror, humor, family saga, romance, satire, and other indescribable categories. The narrator in the book says it is “savory sci-fi”.  If you took Mr. BeanBruce Lee, Mr. Ed the Talking Horse, and Maude (from Harold and Maude), and threw them all into a Monty Python movie, you’d have an inkling of this series. An added kick are the footnotes at the end of each chapter. These aren’t ordinary footnotes, but humorous explanations and thoughts about British people, food, and slang. The notes are as funny as the main course.

Here is an excerpt from chapter ten (Be Careful What You Wish For).

Barry flapped open his kimono to reveal his portable cassette player, took a deep breath, and hit play. ‘I’m Too Sexy’ by Right Said Fred came blaring out of the speakers, and Barry launched into some furious body-popping. A bit rusty at first, he soon began to find his mojo. His routine started with the classic two-step, progressing into the robot. As his confidence grew, he went down for a bit of floor work. An awesome back-spin took him into a position known as the freeze which set him up for a moonwalk to the bottom of the staircase. The routine may not have won Barry first place at a New York dance-off, but it served it purpose. Above him, the samurais looked confused as hell.”

Nicky Blue’s ability to write characters that are believable, different, and set in situations that are far from the ordinary, is remarkable. The predicaments, reactions, and combinations of science, fiction, fantasy and various cultural euphemisms, is fantastical, yet somehow grounded. It all makes sense, even though it is bizarre, weird, shocking, and out of this world. Only in Hot Love Inferno (and the Allocation Series) will you find an elder mother who loves death metal; an adult boy/man who still lives at home, is a terrible gardener and sees himself as a skilled ninja; a dog from another dimension; and Mrs. Garrett getting half of her body stuck in one world, and the other half in another.

Porn, Romance & Pain

513yoXIyYDLBroken Dreams: Broken Pieces by Martha Perez.
Reviewed by Gabriel Constans.

Let’s see… How do I describe Broken Dreams? You could say it’s a blended cocktail of pornography, romance, and inspiration, or… a memoir-like story about a woman’s search for safety, sexual pleasure, and love. Either description would be accurate, as this narrative follows the loves and lives of Josh, Emily, Kyle, Trevor, Betty, Rick, Paige, and Tommy. The primary tellers of the tale are Emily, Trevor, and Josh.

The sex in this book is nonstop and detailed. The main characters change partners, and sleep with who they choose, as often as a bee goes from one flower to another. Through it all, Trevor is always in love with Emily, and Emily is in love with Josh. After marriages, children, and abuse and assault (acted out upon Emily by Josh), there is a slow awakening and understanding that begins to take place.

Broken Dreams is like reading several people’s journals simultaneously. The language used by the men, especially when they are just finishing high school, sounds like machismo jocks, and rings true (though somewhat extreme). Anger, frustration, pleasure, drugs, parties, bars, and sex take center stage. I kept thinking throughout, that they’d all be happier in an open (or polyamorous) relationship, and who knows, perhaps they are.

Circus of Sex & Magic

51Ko1XquugL.jpgCarnival of Sin by Clara Zaynn (Laila Fayre)
Reviewed by Gabriel Constans

Here are some metaphors, and creative entertainment (books, movies, stage shows, events), that best describe Carnival of Sin.

  • Cirque de Soleil meets Eyes Wide Open.
  • A pornographic version of Lord of the Rings.
  • Nightmare Before Christmas marries the queen of porn.
  • Anaïs Nin attends a sex club with Whoopi Goldberg in Ghost.
  • A horror show, mixed with an erotic hero’s journey.

Almost any kind of sex you can imagine, have taken part in, or thought of, is in this story. And it is a story that is well written. The beginning scene is very graphic and violent, and soon expands into other realms of friendship, vengeance, magic, eroticism, pornography and life or death encounters.

There is sex for information; sex for money; sex for power; sex for pleasure; sex for discovery; sex for dominance and submission; and sex for freedom.

Obviously, if you do not like to read about graphic sex or violence, this is a book you should avoid. If, on the other hand, you wish to discover what happens to Heart, and her friend Bliss, and the real purpose of the Carnival of Sin, then by all means get your ticket and enter the big tent of fantasy in the Carnival of Sin.

 

 

Pleasure or Pain?

LastConception-CoverDoes writing give you pleasure, or is it a pain? Are you struggling through every line, wishing it would end, or enjoying the process word by word? Do you write out of necessity, or as a hobby, or pleasant pastime? Writers’ have argued through the centuries about whether writing should be, or is, a process of hard labor, or whether it is a joyous exercise in reflecting oneself and the world in which we live.

Some writers’ say they cannot live without writing something every day. Others tells us they write in spurts, when moved to do so, or have long periods of inactivity and/or creative ideas. And a few cannot stop writing once they get started and write manically, without pause or respite.

I’ve been told that writing involves a high degree of masochistic tendencies if you are not writing solely for pleasure, but to have what you’ve written read and accepted by others. There is a lot of truth in this, as so few writers ever receive any recognition, let alone financial rewards, for there many hours of plotting, research, editing, characterization, and marketing.

From my experience, writing can be both pleasurable and painful, whether it is for personal or public consumption. Scribbling, or typing, refried storylines again and again, is easy, but artistically boring. Writing something that has never been put together in quite the same way, can take hours of painstaking thought, and pleasurable results. Then again, the results may be painful to see, and not as joyous as the process.

So, this may sound weird, but unless it is a wee bit difficult, or challenging, I do not enjoy writing. That doesn’t mean I prefer an extremely intimidating project, but one that calls me out to do my best, improve my skills, and look at an issue, or story, with fresh eyes. Writing something I’ve written a thousand times before, though perhaps monetarily rewarding, is more painful than a new challenge.

What’s your hit? What’s it like for you? Do you cringe at the thought of a deadline, having to think of an idea, or putting an idea on paper? Or, do you get excited each time the words in your head come out on the screen as you envisioned? Pleasure and pain are somewhat subjective, but are also very real. I guess the real question is whether pleasure or pain is the driving force behind your writing, or any aspect of why you write at all.

Zen Master Tova Tarantino Toshiba, The Last Conception, and Loving Annalise, are some of Gabriel’s most recent works of fiction. They were pleasurably painful to write.

You Will Do What I Say & Like It

TheSecretJourneyThe Secret Journey by Paul Christian
Reviewed by Gabriel Constans

There is nothing secret about The Secret Journey. It is a pornographic literary collection of women being dominated by men, and other women. IF you like hearing about, and enactments of, someone being controlled and enjoying (and learning) to be obedient, than this will be right up your alley, or other parts of your body.

Whether it is a man speaking, as the writer or teller of the tale, or a woman, it is always in first person. Environments include homes, bedrooms, baths, work spaces, school rooms, horse tracks, night clubs, trains, and other places and times. The writer claims to know the reader, and exactly what it is you want to hear, and do. Most of the scenarios are common male fantasies, and include the usual graphic scenes of sucking, licking, fucking, looking, talking, and doing what one is told to do.

There is no character development, or attachment to any of the people in these stories, but that is not the point, or purpose, of this book. The author skips any preamble, or pretext, of plot, or complexity, and zeros in on desire, wanting, giving and receiving. If that is the kind of erotica that tickles your fancy, than The Secret Journey will take you where they want you to go.

I Am the Lover’s Eyes

From The Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran. Translated by Anthony Rizcallah Ferris and edited by Martin L. Wolf (1951).

images-2

Song of Love by Kahlil Gibran.

I am the lover’s eyes, and the spirit’s
Wine, and the heart’s nourishment.
I am a rose. My heart opens at dawn and
The virgin kisses me and places me
Upon her breast.

I am the house of true fortune, and the
Origin of pleasure, and the beginning
Of peace and tranquility. I am the gentle
Smile upon the lips of beauty. When youth
Overtakes me he forgets his toil, and his
Whole life becomes reality of sweet dreams.

I am the poet’s elation,
And the artist’s revelation,
And the musician’s inspiration.

I am a sacred shrine in the heart of a
Child, adored by a merciful mother.

I appear to a heart’s cry; I shun a demand;
My fullness pursues the heart’s desire;
It shuns the empty claim of the voice.

I appeared to Adam through Eve
And exile was his lost;
Yet I revealed myself to Solomon, and
He drew wisdom from my presence.

I smiled at Helena and she destroyed Tarwada;
Yet I crowned Cleopatra and peace dominated
The Valley of the Nile.

I am like the ages – building today
And destroying tomorrow;
I am like a god, who creates and ruins;
I am sweeter than a violet’s sigh;
I am more violent than a raging tempest.

Gifts alone do not entice me;
Parting does not discourage me;
Poverty does not chase me;
Jealousy does not prove my awareness;
Madness does not evidence my presence.

Oh seekers, I am Truth, beseeching Truth;
And your Truth in seeking and receiving
And protecting me shall determine my
Behaviour.

Love and Feminism

imagesUntil I read Bell Hooks books on feminism and love – Communion: The female search for love and All About Love – I would have sworn that I supported women (and men’s) liberation in every aspect of my life. But after the first few chapters I became painfully aware of the fact that I haven’t applied the same understanding and equality I try to faithfully practice at work, with friends, raising children and doing household chores to my intimate romantic life.

In Communion, Ms. Hooks says, “Some men cared enough to consent to feminist thinking and to change, but only a very, very few loved us – loved us all the way. And that meant respecting our sexual rights.”

I always think of my partners pleasure and satisfaction during sex and am turned on by her joy as much or more than my own sensations, but I also see how I have used coercion, control, emotional distancing and blame in the past to get what I wanted. I continually gave her the message (unconsciously and nonverbal) that she was never “good enough”. I always wanted her to be more sexual more often with greater variety and be different than she was or is, in order to fulfill my desires, perceived needs and fantasies. The underlying implications were “if you don’t change or be more like I want you to be, I’ll have to leave and find someone else.” It created a sense of fear and rejection.

Seeing this reality shattered my self-image of always being a loving, caring man and helped me acknowledge how often I and the continually reinforced messages from society, have caused such intense and long lasting loneliness for those women seeking loving, shared partnerships with men. Hooks states, “Feminist silence about love reflects a collective sorrow about our powerlessness to free all men from the hold patriarchy has on their minds and hearts. Our heartache came from facing the reality that if men were not willing to holistically embrace feminist revolution, then they would not be in an emotional place where they could offer us love.”

I began to realize that it is love and connection that I desire most, not sex. I no longer need sex to reassure me that I am loved or wanted. In the past, having someone desire and want me sexually meant that they loved me. If they didn’t have sex as often as I wanted I reacted out of fear and sadness believing it meant they didn’t love me completely. Out of this sadness I would react with frustration and anger by trying to get them to “prove” their love for me with sex or by emotionally distancing myself and not talking in order to “protect” myself from having expectations or “being hurt”.

These reactions and I believe that of most men, are not realities I have totally ignored, but until reading hooks words I hadn’t really taken them to heart and honestly confronted my own patriarchal fears and thinking in the matter of love and relationships. It felt like Bell had me in her sights when she said, “Feminist women stopped talking about love because we found that love was harder to get than power. Men, and patriarchal females, were more willing to give us jobs, power, or money than they were to give us love. Women who learn to love represent the greatest threat to the patriarchal status quo.”

While reading Communion some kind of switch went on in my head. At first it opened the floodgates of grief over my part in perpetuating such alienation and pain. Then a kind of peace engulfed me – a new found love and acceptance of myself and my partner. I am less stressed and anxious about the future and don’t try to make people be different than who they are. Is it any surprise that my partner has also experienced more peace with herself and in bed? She no longer has to worry or wonder if she will ever “be enough” or meet my suffocating patriarchal images of how she “should” be.

As I learn to love, without depending on her to fulfill or “make” that love, she to is finding that our mutual appreciation and respect for what is present, rather than what is absent, has deepened every aspect of our lives. Neither of us need the other person’s “approval” to love or be loved.

Ms. Hooks insightfully reminds her readers that, “Knowing that both women and men are socialized to accept patriarchal thinking should make it clear to everyone that men are not the problem. The problem is patriarchy.” The problem is our refusal to acknowledge our own behavior in the most intimate moments of our lives and the fear of real connection and closeness that keeps us perpetuating the myths and lies about the minor differences of genes, gender and genetics.

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