Archive for the ‘Hedonism’ Category

This may sound heartless, but I can’t seem to dredge up any pity for Roman Polanski. He was arrested recently in Switzerland and placed in jail pending a deportation hearing on a 32-year old warrant because he  failed to appear in court for sentencing on a charge of unlawful sex with a minor, a charge he pled guilty to. Instead, he fled the United States and has been living in Europe since.

Almost immediately after his arrest, the elites of France went berserk, accusing the United States of picking on this poor old seventy-some year old man. Then several of Hollywood’s biggest names jumped in on Polanski’s side.

Meanwhile, it turns out that a lot of ordinary French people and Americans as well have no sympathy for Polanski, either. He should come back and face the music, many argue. He committed a crime, he ought to do the time. After all, isn’t that what the bigwigs have told us for years and years?

So, suddenly, these same believers in the sanctity of the law want this guy who had sex with a 13-year old girl to escape justice because he spent his life after evading it making fine movies that are applauded by the elites of Europe and Hollywood. I wonder how these individuals would feel if Polanski’s 13-year old victim happened to be a daughter of one of them.

What about Polanski’s victim? For all of the years Polanski roamed as free as a bird, she’s been psychologically imprisoned by the vile acts committed by him on her body, damaged by thoughts of this man working over her, performing oral sex and sodomizing her mind and body.

Those who support Polanski argue that the judge was biased against him. If I were the judge I would have been biased against him, too. After all, he pled guilty to those acts.  He deserved prison time then and he deserves it now.

His supporters also contend that the judge violated a plea agreement that would have placed Polanski on probation without jail time. As a matter of law, judges do not negotiate pleas with defendants. The prosecuting attorney and the defense attorney work out an agreement and present it to the judge. The judge can accept or reject it.

Judges reject plea agreements every day somewhere in America. They also accept them. In the Polanski case, we actually don’t know how the judge would have decided since Polanski cut out before decision time. Now, the judge is dead and we will never know.

Every year there are over 3,000,000 (that’s three million) reported instances of child abuse in America. Not every case involves sexual abuse and not all reports are verified. But if only 10 percent of the reports were valid, that would still amount to a horrendous 300,000 incidents annually. That is one hell of a statistic for a country that purports to be a nation of laws, not of men.

For the sake of our children, men like Polanmski need to feel the heat of prison. If only one incipient predator gets the message and decides to drive on by instead of abducting a child on the way to school, then Polanski’s incarceration will at least have served a socially redeeming purpose.

If Roman Polanski were an ordinary citizen, his victim would be just another statistic, lost in a bureaucratic spreadsheet. But the publicity surrounding Polanski ultimately resulted in the self-revelation of her identity. Samantha Gailey Geimer, now 45 years old, has decided that she will no longer permit the incident that happened so many years ago to imprison her mind. A revelation like that takes courage.

If Polanski had her courage, if he were any kind of man, he’d voluntarily return to the United States and take his medicine. Then, his supporters might have something to commend him for.


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I’d almost phased out of the politics of California when a couple of items popped up on the radar screen.

A day or so ago, Eric Jaye, San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom’s long-time friend and campaign strategist, resigned, ostensibly because of a difference of opinion over how to run Newsom’s campaign for governor of California.

Jaye is a proponent of the Obama approach to 21st Century politics: rouse the Twitter and Facebook crowds and solicit small campaign donations from millions of young voters. Newsom is 40 years old, and Jaye figured he’d relate more effectively to the young crowd than to the oldsters, who probably will identify with Newsom’s strongest opponent in the Democratic gubernatorial primary, 71 year old Jerry Brown.

Somewhere along the line however, Newsom either decided on his own or was convinced by others to revert to a traditional money raising approach, personally hit the phones and call the big donors.

Some analysts theorize that Newsom is distinctly uncomfortable with the Obama strategy because it also calls for personal contact with a lot of young people who are prone to ask potentially embarrassing questions. Newsom, it is thought by some, is more comfortable talking to the big money men, with whom he more closely identifies.

Be that as it may, Newsom replaced Jaye with Garry South, an old-line campaign strategist who favors not only phone contact with the big boys but also a scorched earth policy toward one’s opponent. Thus, with South in charge, we will probably notice an increase in personal attacks against Jerry Brown from the Newsom Camp.

This raises the specter of personal attacks in return from Jerry Brown’s folks, and hoo boy, does Newsom have a lot to be personally attacked about. In the interior of California, the voting population is very conservative. They do nor like Newsom’s stand and actions on gay marriage at all. No siree. Not one bit. And those conservative inlanders, along with an overwhelming Black vote, managed to kill gay marriage in California, at least for the time being.

But gay marriage isn’t the only divisive issue on Newsom’s record. On February 1, 2007, all hell broke loose when the Fog City Journal (some think the Chronicle broke the story) revealed that Newsom had had an affair with the wife of his then campaign manager and best friend.

The news erupted with the force of a couple of A-Bombs and the shock wave quickly circled the globe. Newspapers far and wide and blogs galore were totally consumed with the news to the virtual exclusion of all else. Even Newsom’s now-wife got in the act when she called Newsom’s inamorato “the culprit” and blamed the whole mess on her.

Newsom apologized with a pithy “Everything you’ve heard is true,” and then every one of the principals in the event clamed up tighter than a drum, and to this day, very little is known of the affair. Most of the information floating around is speculation.

Now here’s the kicker. Articles about Newsom have recently appeared in the New York Times and Fast Company Magazine. In both, Newsom addressed the affair, saying among other things that “it wasn’t true that everything you heard was true,” thus casting himself as a liar from the git-go. He went on to say, “There a story that hasn’t been told. Things were more benign than they appeared in print.”

Okay, so Newsom is an admitted liar and all of the facts of the matter haven’t come to light. How does the Greatest Story Never Told factor into Newsom’s new campaign strategy?

Here’s the chain of logic:

· Newsom’s campaign is in trouble

· He fires new-age (almost) campaign manager, Eric Jaye.

· He hires old-age campaign manager Garry South, noted for his scorched earth tactics.

· The new manager is expected to unleash personal attacks against Newsom’s main opponent, Jerry Brown.

· Jerry’s camp is expected to retaliate.

· The darkest blot on Newsom’s record and a likely subject of attacks from the Brown group is Newsom’s affair with his then-campaign manager and best friend’s wife.

· To dampen the effects of the expected attacks, Newsom initiates a preemptive strike, calling the affair and its aftermath benign and intimating that the real story has yet to be revealed.

· In other words, “Ain’t no big t’ing, Brah.”

· Mission accomplished.

However, the Newsom camp may be treading on thin ice by permitting Gavin to put forth the possibility of more to come. Hidden among all of the ambiguous statements is the clear intimation that any and all information released by el Gavo will cast him in the role of Saint and “the woman” as the siren who lured him onto the shoals of sin. Here are some possible scenarios:

Newsom’s version of the untold story will place him in the most favorable light. All or most of the blame will fall on the woman. After all, she is an admitted alcoholic and drug user (although the latter has never been officially verified), and it’s easy to envision this poor drunken woman pestering Newsom until he reluctantly succumbed.

There were only one or two encounters, the story may go, and poor Gavie was so distraught over his betrayal of his best friend that he quickly and sternly told his partner in sex that there would be no more, whereas she had a nervous breakdown or something and checked into rehab.

Later, at some point in the unfolding story, the three of them sat down together and discussed the matter like adults, whereas they all agreed that it was no big deal, just a benign, one-time aberration. Then, they shook hands and went their separate ways.

This or something similar may well be Gavie’s story, but it won’t work. While he might concoct some sort of preemptive cover story to defuse the personal attacks almost sure to come from the Brown side, he runs the risk of opening up a can of worms.

So far, his once-campaign manager and wife have remained resolutely silent. If Newsom opens up, they may do the same. If that happens, everything will plop out in one large plop. And if my guess is right, it may be a very messy plop indeed and likely spell the end of Newsie’s political career.

I could be off base in my analysis. I’ve been wrong before. Other explanations for Gavin’s enigmatic statements are well within the realm of plausibility. One comes to mind.

Quite some time ago, the media was rife with reports of a book in the works about the matter by the woman. The story faded, but if the book is near completion, and if Gavo’s camp is aware of its status, Gavo’s statements could be a preliminary move to counter inflammatory information that the book might include. I doubt this scenario, but anything is possible in San Francisco.

If I were one of Gav’s handler’s, my advice would be simple. STFU. Shut your damned mouth. Let sleeping dogs lie. Everytime this story is about dead, someone, usually the Chronicle, runs something, complete with names.

Now, Gav wants to jump on the band wagon. Enough damage has been done, a family destroyed and a child’s future altered irrevocably. Let the others get on with their lives, Gavster. I repeat, STFU.

Okay, political junkies, keep your eyes out and your ears to the ground. Things happen fast in California.

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No. And as long as they continue to occur in San Francisco, the Chronicle will continue to remind us.

In its latest recap, the Chron chronicles San Francisco’s Top Ten Sex Scandals from 1879 to the here and now, proving anew that old sex scandals never die, they just find abbreviated life in media outlets desperate for ad revenues.

I don’t believe any of the sex scandals in the Chron’s list is sublime, but one certainly meets the ridiculous standard.

In 1983, a couple of bar personnel decided on some after-hours sex, not an unusual occurrence, but these two chose the top of a piano for their trip to Nirvana. One of them apparently tripped a hydraulic lift, and as they became engrossed in the task at hand, the piano rose to the ceiling, crushing the man and injuring the woman. I’ve often wondered if, during their flight to the moon, one or the other or both achieved an orgasm.

The most recent scandal on the Chron’s list is the Newsom caper. Among other items in its post, the Chron said Newsom apologized “profusely.”

Profusely you say? Profusely? I must have been on my Bicentennial Vacation to Mars when it happened. The apology I saw was short and not to the point. Then, Newsom disappeared, never to be heard from again in connection with his scandal.

Does the Chron’s use of the word “profusely” suggest in some small way that the paper favors Newsom as a candidate for Governor and wishes to minimize his participation in the event?

Not on your tinnie tin tin, girlie girl and boy boy. The Chron would never do such a thing. Would it?

Well, that’s a matter for you to decide. Personally, the Chron can endorse Mickey Mouse for all the effect newspaper endorsements have on voters’s decisions.

But, really, Chron, when you summarize the Newsom case, do you always need to include names other than Newsom’s? After all, Newsom is the one running for governor. The others are sincerely attempting to move on with their lives.

The Chron ought to move on as well. A little more substantive news might enhance its bottom line.

In the meantime, let’s all sit back and wait for the next sex scandal.

Hmmm, I wonder who lightning will strike next.

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What’s the big deal with Miss California’s boobs? Everyone seems all fidgety because she posed with a half a boob (no nipple) in a lingerie ad. Now, her position as First Runner Up in the Miss USA contest is at the mercy of Donald Trump, who is supposed to make a final decision on Carrie’s status tomorrow. My guess: “You’re fired!”

But, wait…

The boob display won’t do her in. If Trump lets her go, his reason will hinge on her stance on gay marriages. She’s against them and has publicly said so.

I disagree with her, but I see no reason to take away her crown for her views. After all, we live in a country where we supposedly can speak our minds without the government’s interference.

But, wait…

It isn’t the government that wants to nail Carrie. It’s a private organization. See, the Constitution says “Congress shall make no law….” That revered document doesn’t cover private institutions. Organizarions such as Miss USA and Miss California can pretty well set their own speech standards.

So, hasta la vista, baby. It was nice seeing a large photo of your attributes in Google’s Image feature.

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This isn’t a stream-of-consciousness thing. You have to be conscious for that. No, this is like someone wandering alone in a forest, trying to find a way out.

Even Robert Frost had two roads that diverged in a yellow wood when he chose the one less traveled. I feel like someone who has been airlifted from the comforts of civilization and dropped in the middle of a vast forest without a compass.

Here’s my dilemma. Why does everyone in the universe love Emily Morse?

In my mind, the question poses a problem to be solved, a scientific exercise, sans emotion, a search based on pure logic, much like Fleming’s search when he accidentally stumbled across penicillin and created drug-resistant STD’s.

The trouble is, when I’m in a problem-solving mode, logic sort of falls by the waysde. My mind is all over the landscape. Spock I ain’t. In fact, I may even create a fantasy or two to help my thinking. So bear with me if I fantasize a little.

I don’t know who or where the people are who love Emily. All I know is that a whole lot of someones have been regularly clicking a post I wrote about her in September 2007. I don’t get it. The post wasn’t about sex at all but about career choices. I wondered why educated, highly intelligent and beautiful young women choose careers in the sex business.

And yet my simple essay has brought a sustained hit load that today amounts to about a third or more of all visits to my site, which are scant anyway and apparently would disappear entirely if not for Emily.

At the risk of offending anyone in my family who knows and respects my avoidance of crude language, this actually pisses me off. I spend a lot of time and brain power writing seriously about politics and American culture without drawing a single hit.

In fact, a review of a book-in-the-editing stage about the Japanese-American experience in America brought zilch. That was sort of embarassing because I wrote the review to impress my daughter who was editing the book.

It’s even gotten so bad that the name “Gavin Newsom” doesn’t rate a response. Only Emily.

What the hell is it about this girl anyway? Just because she’s beautiful and talented and knows all about sex toys and pole dancing and 46 erotic techniques is no justification for goddess status.

Let me clarify something right now. I’ve never met Emily or anyone who knows her. So I do not use words like goddess to suck up to her. I’m just stating a fact of life. She must be a goddess or else her name in an obscure blog post wouldn’t draw global attention.

To learn more about the feminine version of charisma, I have thought about asking her to be my Facebook Friend, but the humiliation of sending out those damned Friend Requests and receiving a message back that calls me a bottom feeding scum sucker is a wee bit embarassing. I have a very low humiliation level and its been strained to the breaking point.

You don’t believe me? I’ve had about 500 Friend Requests ignored or returned with vile names directed at me. Even several high muckamuck politicians who accept friends just to prove how popular they are have failed to respond. The failure of a pol to communicate with a citizen stings. I mean, I’m not Dan Noyes. I don’t ask embarassing questions.

I have this eerie feeling that the few friends I do have are only my friends because they feel sorry for me. They remind me of my grammar school days when a couple of girls gave me a Valentine’s Day card out of pity, and one of them was my sister.

I wonder if Emily would respond to my pity tactic. Used to work in high school. And in these trying days, the quest for knowledge demands innovative sneakiness. But on reflection I think it is better to remain Facebook celibate. Once we have a Facebook friend, we can’t tattle behind their backs. At least I can’t. Inside, I have this Willie Brown tendency to stand in the presence of a lady. Real men trash only ladies they don’t know.

So, for the time being, I’ll continue from afar trying to figure out Emily’s draw and puzzling about why so many people have clicked on that innocent post.

Hmmm. I wonder if it’s because the title is Sex with Aunty Em.

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Mark Twain said the following about the subject over a hundred years ago in his book Letters from the Earth.

“…the human being…naturally places sexual intercourse far and away above all other joys…The very thought of it excites him; opportunity sets him wild; in this state he will risk life, reputation, everything–to make good that opportunity and ride it to the overwhelming climax. From youth to middle age all men and all women prize copulation above all other pleasures combined…”

No kidding.

I wonder if copulation includes politicians screwing the public.

Like, when a politician brands someone a traitor and wins an election or helps enact a law raising taxes on the lower classes, is the climax kind of like a male ejaculation or a female G-Spot orgasm?

These are merely philosophical matters, though. SFBG is into real-world sex. It just released the results of its 2008 Sex Poll.

I have a hunch that some of the respondents fudged their answers. A few of the stats seem to contradict Mark Twain and human nature.

For example, one question was “What gets you in the mood?”

An overwhelming number of respondents named booze of one kind or another and/or some other mind-altering stuff like coke and weed.

I didn’t take this survey but if I had, I would simply have written in “an attractive (to me), willing, able, and substance-free partner.”

My theory is simple. Why would I want to numb the pleasure of it all? Contrary to popular belief, none of the named substances enhances sex. Besides, when a person wakes the morning after, wouldn’t he or she want to remember the experience sans black holes in the brain?

The named substances, rather than enhancing the pleasure of sex, actually lower inhibitions. That translates into the courage to approach a potential partner. In other words, many people think about sex but are abject cowards when it comes right down to actually initiating and participating in it without assistance.

How does Mark Twain factor into the equation? Two possibilities in my mind. He was probably talking about people’s fantasies. Humans dream a lot about sex.

Or, he was probably drunker than a skunk when he wrote it. Grandiose hyperbole is often a side-effect of mornings-after when we get together and brag about things we don’t remember.

Add On: I just wrote this post to see how many people would click on the site as a response to the word “sex” in the title.

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At the risk of taxing the limits of Fair Use, I’d like to start this with a quote from Beyond Chron, followed by an extract of a story from the San Diego Union-Tribune.

Here’s the Beyond Chron excerpt written by Randy Shaw:

“… after winning re-election with over 70% of the vote, why does San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom still appear less than happy in his job? Why has he been so testy with reporters, dissatisfied with his staff, and acting on the defensive when he just won an unprecedented political mandate?”

Many reasons come to mind, but I think the Union-Tribune in its piece on God and the Election written by Lionel Van Deerlin is a good starting point when we try to understand Newsom’s malaise. Here’s what Van Deerlin says:

“And what to do about San Francisco? Mayor Gavin Newsom admitted to an amorous affair with an office staffer, the wife of his campaign manager. City-county supervisors thereafter passed a resolution proclaiming office romances to be unavoidable and therefore OK.

Under the baroque dome of San Francisco’s City Hall, from now on, foreplay is fair play.

Folks aren’t like that in Iowa, no siree.”

Van Deerlin’s thoughts mirror the article I wrote a few days ago about Newsom helping Hillary in Iowa. I called Hillary’s move a mistake because Iowans don’t quite breathe the same air as San Franciscans. In fact, virtually all of the states are like Iowa when it comes to accepting the libertine approach to personal behavior.

Newsom’s testiness, dissatisfaction, and defensiveness may partly result from a dawning realization that his political ambitions beyond the state of California at this moment are sorely limited. Iowa could well be a metaphor for the vast “Heartland” of America when it comes to a separation of State and personal behavior.

And complicating the matter, the Republicans have done a masterful job of fogging the distinctions between the two. Today in the minds of most people, liberal and libertine are the same and California is in the forefront of both liberal political policies and libertine personal behavior.

I am certain Newsom understands the dynamics. His frustrated ambitions are doubtless a factor in his crankiness. But unless and until he and his tacticians can reverse the flow of right-wing linguistic revisionism, he isn’t going to go anywhere beyond California in terms of political office

On the other hand, I may be far off of the mark. He could just be in a funk over a lousy two days in Hawaii.

p.s. What does “The party of God” have to do with anything? From reading Van Deerlin’s article, seems he’s placed Gavin in the context of Evangelical Christian Republican politics. Feels like he added Newsom almost as an afterthought.

p.p.s. Gavin’s tax on sugary drinks has also caught the attention of the national media. Heartland folks drink Cokes and Pepsis by the barrels full. They aren’t going to favor anyone who favors a tax on their Nectar of the Gods. As Van Deerlin says, “No siree.”

p.p.p.s I’m having a helluva time formatting with WirdPress. I may never figure it out. Sorry for the screw up. Please be patiend.

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