Secrets From Self

 Admit something and you’re stuck with it. That probably explains why many of us walk around with our heads in the sand. (Of course impossible, but an interesting image.) Think of the people you know who are alcoholics, yet steadfastly claim they aren’t. And those who claim to love a spouse but speak about, and to, that spouse with contempt in their voices. And those who find their children endearing beyond belief, refusing to recognize others grit their teeth every time the little creeps appear.

If one admits there is a problem, there’s the problem of getting past the original problem. Pain and a demand for some action is possible. If Henrietta, who “loves” her husband admits she wishes she was with practically any other man than hubby, she’s stuck with thinking about divorce. What a mess that could make in her life.

What I’ve said isn’t new news. We all know it at some level. But what do we do with it? Having recently realized something about my life—which I choose to keep to myself—has given me a headful of grief and annoyance. I’d be better off if I’d never admitted it. That’s not completely true because it’s made me more confident about life, as contradictory as that appears. Now that I’m in on this secret-from-self I can decide to do something with it—or not. I have a choice, I won’t go into death never having realized I might have done some things differently in my life which might have enriched it. I can chose to change or I can chose not to. 

Perhaps I will have arrived at the point of “the sufficiency of is.” That phrase comes from a short story by Mark Jacobs in which an older woman is considering making a major change in her life. Ultimately she decides not to do so because life is what it is and it’s okay. That gives her a greater sense of control. My annoying, revealed secret has given me that as well.

Think about the secrets you might be keeping from yourself. Would you be better off if you looked for them and decided what to do with them? There might be losses but there also could be gains. I wish you the best of luck. 

Under Separate Cover

“Under separate cover” is one of my favorite phrases. To me it suggests something more than a message in an envelope separate from the one which has the message using the phrase. Why does it charm? Not sure. I can think of alternative possibilities for its use, such as: people under different tents at a gala; people sleeping in separate beds; a diary versa emails to the boss. Doesn’t help, alternate uses isn’t explaining why something registers in the head, yet gives no explanation as to why. Why does a song suddenly appear that hasn’t been heard in eons. Having lunch the other day I heard Diana Krall singing “You Go to My Head.” I haven’t listened to her in months. And it isn’t just sound I experience. I can smell a musty cellar for no apparent reason. I have no particular love or hatred for cellars, musty or not.

We have a lot of stuff in our heads and some of it’s junk. You might put “under separate cover” in the junk category.

I seem to be heading nowhere with this. 

What is the point? We have likes and dislikes with no idea why. 

One of these days I might figure out why under separate cover is so pleasing to me. A possibility is it has something to do with keeping aspects of life separate from others. I can be a pussy cat, but I’m also a bitch. Those personae are under separate covers. A person could encounter one of me, but might never meet the other. Being introverted, privacy is important and “everyone” doesn’t need to know “everything” about me.

I suppose thinking of this will demand I snoop around in my head for other separate cover areas. Who knows what interesting quirks lurk in our private spaces? Who knows what I’ll find crawling out from under a rock. Exploring, discovering can be unnerving as well as fun. 

Let me know if you come up with some interesting separate cover discoveries about yourself.

Desiring Desire

The man’s desire is for the woman

but the woman’s desire is rarely

other than for the desire of the man.

  —Samuel Taylor Coleridge


Coleridge nailed it, and it’s doubtful it’s rooted in nature; that would run counter to evolution. A female’s investment in reproduction demands a desire for males who contribute to a worthwhile outcome; thus, in many species it is the male who dances, displays, desires the desire of the female. This leaves us with the logical conclusion that we women have been trained to want man’s desire, even to the point of ignoring our own. Ignoring our very bodies. The clitoris was “discovered” in the sixteenth century, some say earlier, but that knowledge was buried—over and over and over. When it could no longer be kept underground, Freud came up with that silliness about vaginal orgasms being the only good orgasms. (Good Lord.) Unfortunately, women ignored their bodies and believed his nonsense—until some adventurous souls spoke up, such as Anne Koedt who published “The Myth of the Vaginal Orgasm” in 1970. Finally women (at least in the United States) could recognize the fact that they should listen to what their bodies had to say rather than the fantasies of guys, even those of the allegedly scientific ones.

Today it’s assumed women do have sexual desire that isn’t defined by males. Young women and girls will declare they damned well know they have desire. They get, not just give, in the sexual arena. Really? Do they? One wonders about girls giving blow jobs when they don’t get anything in return. Crouching around with a guy’s dick in your mouth, as well as one of his bodily fluids isn’t necessarily about reciprocity, nor is it an inborn instinct for Chrissake. It can be nothing more than weenie worship. “Hallelujah! If I suck, the god will smile on me.”

Women can be such fools when it comes to men, the number who’ve ruined themselves over men must be in the billions. Why? Because the guys are so hot, so great in the sack? Not necessarily true. Women stay with men who are abusive in the sack. Women stay with men who are abusive in all ways. How about women who stay with men who refuse to have sex with them, ergo, live sexless lives, hanging in, desiring his desire which never comes. And there are those women, including young ones, who are shut down when it comes to sex, would be happy if it didn’t exist. If you doubt this, talk with some therapists.

We women like to think we’ve been liberated in all ways, including satisfying the urge that is a major part of human existence but we haven’t gotten past Coleridge’s statement. We’re still operating with desiring being desired. But—in keeping with our new advanced status we act as if we have our own. We continue to be fools, fooling ourselves.

A Shot to the Sac Proposal

Note—this post is ahead of the usual schedule due it’s timeliness

Women, it’s time to go to war. Accepting, condoning, enabling, making nice-nice, being complicit with the behavior of men who hate us hasn’t worked for centuries. Ergo, there is no reason to think peaceful nice-nice has any chance of success now, or in the future.

What can we do? We can let the bastards know we do not accept their hate-filled crap. If you’re on the street alone and some filthy piece of shit grabs you, you need to get away. But if you’re in an office or at a party and some filthy piece of shit grabs you, give him a shot to the sac that’d make him think his balls have gone into the next county. Give him two shots.

Give a shot to the sac of all those things that grab and squeeze, grab and slobber, that rape you, that beat you. Give a shot to the sac to all those who think they have a right to do to your body whatever they want. That includes those politicians who legislate against women having the right to their own bodies. Imagine a lineup of all those who vote to prevent women from getting abortions and having access to good health care. Imagine giving them shots to the crotch (some of them are women).

On another body issue, let’s give a shot to columnist George Will of the “Washington Post” who thinks sexual assault “… victimhood [is] a coveted status that confers privileges … .” Yeah. Almost too hard to believe, except the world is filled with stupidity and hate. I’m thinking of tar and feathers and a ride out of town on a rail. Yahoo, George. See Salon article on George’s “insights.”

Oh, I can just imagine what all you “ladies” are thinking. Your hands to your face with your shocked “Oh my” look. Well “ladies” you’re the ones helping the Pseudo Male Slimeballs… [PMS for short] get away with their crap. Wake up and accept that these “things” shouldn’t be given the title of Man. They are limp, lame, pathetic, cheap, shoddy knock-offs of men. Real men don’t try to control women. Make that your motto, and go forth ready to do battle with shoddy pathetic knockoffs. Dedicated to all women who’ve encountered hate-filled creeps that need to be stopped. Practically all of us. Maybe all.

Read the links below.

Examples of “Coveted Privileges” from assaulted women


Life as told through sexual harassment


An upbeat note — high school guys talk about being feminists 


Example of what one woman did when groped. You’ll like this one too.


Send YOUR suggestions of how to stop the PMSes.


Pledge Week Opt Out



I don’t know how PBS pledge weeks operate where you are but I quit watching some time ago. I do occasionally check in, hoping for improvement. Hasn’t happened. I faithfully listen through NPR pledge weeks because I wouldn’t think of missing what they offer. Not so with PBS. About the only useful program left on in the metro New York area is the NewsHour. The substitutions are lame at best. Do people really want to spend time with singing groups who, after decades of not being together, rejoin for the purpose of money grubbing? Maybe the gray heads in TVLandia want this but I find it depressing. And what about young viewers? Do they share the nostalgia? Enough to share their money?

Let us not forget the bloviators, such as that leftover doofus from the Seventies Wayne Dyer, still pushing the silliness about how we can be anything we want to be. I suppose he believes it because his nugacity has made him successful at getting money for babbling it. His nothingness might be topped by the “doctors” with their magic insights and cures. Harry Potter would have a better chance at improving anyone’s life than they. I have difficulty being specific about them in that I’ve viewed only a few for about ten minutes each. I do know a dermatologist with products to sell got an endorsement from a host/announcer. Infomercials on public television? Other wizards speak authoritatively on alleged medical discoveries about the brain. Mine just snorts and goes off to do something at least somewhat useful.

Why can’t PBS follow the NPR model, doing what is done regularly, with breaks to request money? I’m a monthly sustainer of two public radio stations, but not for any of the public television channels, not wanting to encourage  continuation of what they currently offer during pledge weeks.

I hope you get better where you live.


Ostrich Nation


A lot is being said about the condition of our nation, but how many realize we are heading for the cesspool of the universe? We are enabling the greedy, venal, stupid and sometime evil in their efforts to take us to damnation followed by extinction. Of course the greedy sociopaths will move themselves to some place worthy of their presence and safe from extinction, at least for a while longer than the common folk. We have moved to what so many Latin American nations fought to escape, oligarch dictatorship in which the “common” citizen is something to be used—and abused.

Our politicians happily support corporations in paying employees so little that they’d be better off in old style company towns with housing provided. Of course residents of company towns could go further and further into debt to the overlords but they did have shelter and food, which was probably more nourishing that what many poor people can get today.

Our alleged leaders seek ways to keep people from voting. Their efforts can include creating confusion about the possibility of easily doing so, as in Dade County, Florida in which availability of bathrooms in voting locations is in doubt. You find yourself in a long line? Stay and vote and maybe pee in your pants to do so.

There are “leaders” who don’t think much of children, thus the future. Eric Cantor voted no on expanding health insurance for children. He and his staff definitely have problems with the young. The police were called to remove singing children from his office. There are many more of his ilk. The only children who matter are the spawn of the greedy and venal, those filled with contempt for those who aren’t just like them.

Our politicians happily support corporations in providing “education.” Coffers are filled and education is not the point. See “The Reason Education Sucks” by George Carlin It takes about a minute and a half for him to move into education, so stay with it. You might not like his street language but the man told it like it was and IS. The owners of this country don’t want a population of citizens capable of critical thinking. Everything will be done to keep children who don’t belong to democracy-killing sociopaths from being educated to think. Critical thought could produce revolution.

I wonder what the citizens of Rome were thinking as their empire slid further and further into nonexistence? I suppose they too had the ostrich head in the sand stance.



“1234? As a password? Andy, you’re not supposed to do that.”

He laughed and set off to change my landline from one division, enclave, fiefdom of my TV-Phone-Internet Kingdom to another. A simple, five minute job to get my bill reduced by $5.00 a month. The password would cease to be when the switch was done.

Four and a half hours later Andy was still live-chatting to finish what was to be a five minute job. Didn’t happen.

Andy returned the next morning. He’d talked with a TV-Phone-Internet lackey in the interim and was told of a simple fix to my problem. He should work with a tech on that.

He left one and one-half hours later after having learned the phone adapter from one fiefdom would not work with my router from another. Oh, well. Just one of those things. Back to the original set-up.

I didn’t want to imagine how long that would take. Not many minutes, as a matter of fact, but my monthly payment rose by $21 because the Kingdom no longer allows what I’d been paying. Note: if you like your rate, do not mess with the bundle. In any way.

We think we can’t live without our cells, email, texts, internet, even landlines. I know I don’t want to. I adore email. Not having to waste time blathering on the phone when I want one small piece of information is truly fine. I don’t want to go back to driving to a library to spend hours on research that I can now do at my desk. I do not want to give up streaming funky British mysteries on my Mac or iPad or iTouch.

This is our life. We might rage about hours spent with techs. We wonder about our worship of the cell. We castigate ourselves over becoming addicted to silly games on cell or tablet. We go beyond miffed if a friend keeps cell talking or texting when we’re having dinner together.

Do we ever feel like free agents? Are we in a new form of the Stockholm Syndrome? Have we sold ourselves to an overlord, embracing our serf status? Whatever we’re in, it looks like we’re going to stay there. How could we not?



One Month Recognition


We’ve recently left Women’s History Month. Once again we can forget about women as full fledged humans.

When I was Director of the Women’s Center at Montclair State University in New Jersey I planned nothing for Women’s History Month because I considered doing so was adding to the insult. What self-respecting woman smilingly accepts being patted on the head? “Sir, Master, Mr. Wonderful, how fine of you to grant this little spell of appreciation.” It’s time to declare that one month of recognition isn’t going to grant forgiveness for expressions of contempt during the rest of the year. Forgiveness be damned. Has forgiveness made the lives of Women, as well as Blacks and Indians, any easier? NO. Anger, righteous indignation if you prefer, is what brought about positive change for those who are expected to accept their alleged sub-human existence.

If you think I’m going too far you haven’t been paying attention to Congress and Republican led states. The War on Women is real.

Item: Republican NO to the Lilly Ledbetter Equal Pay Act.

Item: Anti Abortion Choice. Even in the case of rape. Now there’s hate.

Item: Anti-contraception: A freaking presidential candidate was/is opposed to contraception. In the 21st Century! He and those in agreement are nothing but little tin horn creeps who want total control over half the population—women.

Item: Openly anti-woman. A Maine State Representative proclaimed if women could get abortions, men should be able to rape women. He apologized. Who cares? He spoke what he thinks and feels and is just too damn dumb to realize he’s nothing but a hate-filled flaming posterior orifice. Just how do abortion and rape equate? Who knows? Unfortunately people vote for the thinking-challenged, i.e., dumb as they come.

Item: Women are incubators. A Virginia State Senator labels pregnant women as hosts rather than mothers. Soon we’ll hear that women are nothing but incubators ala Greek drama “The man is the source of life …I give you proof that all I say is true. / The father can father forth without a mother” (Eumenides by Aeschylus) This from woman-hating Athena, the goddess for Phyllis Schlafly.

We’ve come quite a long way since the Second Wave of Feminism but the DOOFs (Dying Out Old Farts—which includes some women) are in a last ditch battle and we need to let them know they aren’t going to win. We’ve got to get the hate-filled and dumb-as-they-come out of public office.

Give time. Give money. Give words. Give whatever you can to get rid of them. It’s time to terminate One-Month-Out-of-Twelve Mentality and what is represents—contempt for women.


Final thought—Ask men if they would be willing to give up control of their bodies. Bet you won’t get a majority of them saying yes. Wouldn’t be surprised if you got none.

Ain’t Gonna Happen

Ain’t Gonna Happen

The power of positive thinking is crap. If I imagine something good occurring it will not happen. Same holds for bad. If I want to assure that something will not happen I create a scenario of it. I wonder if this is true for others. Is all this self-helpy stuff really nothing but dreck? Samuel Johnson wrote second marriages are the triumph of hope over experience. Is consuming positive thinking babble, hope triumphing over a plethora of evidence to the contrary?

There is the possibility I’m missing something, thinking askew. If I tossed in sunny affirmations would it help? Everyday in every way I’m getting better. My story will appear in The New Yorker. My story will appear in The New Yorker. I seriously doubt it.

I’ve come to fear looking into the future because it will assure that good stuff isn’t going to happen. Imagining bad is okay because the horrible experiences seem to be kept at bay by doing so, but who wants to live with constantly writing worst case scenarios? I’m between the proverbial rock and a hard place. If I expect to accomplish things I need to plan; to plan well I need to envision.

Perhaps attaching hope to any part of a plan produces the problem. I could try picturing the necessary steps while not expecting anything good coming from them. Look ahead into expectation-fog while planning in detail. T. S. Eliot wrote, “… hope would be the hope for the wrong thing.” He probably would object to this use of his work, but it’s something I could keep in mind in the hope of keeping disappointment at bay.

It’s probably hopeless. How can anyone look ahead without some expectation of good results? Am I doomed to trying to create a good life with no hope of achievement? In “The Myth of Sisyphus” Camus wrote “Oedipus … obeys fate without knowing it. But from the moment he knows, his tragedy begins.” I know it’s absurdly presumptuous to put my situation in the same paragraph as Greek drama, but I can’t help wondering if awareness of my relationship with the future makes my life a tragedy.  After Oedipus becomes conscious he declares all is well. If I am in a tragedy, can all is well be true for me? Probably not, just hope creeping in, once again setting me up for … disillusionment.

The End