The Debate About Sexual Attraction and Transphobia

I love how the Internet just loves to get pissed.  It really does.  The Internet loses its fucking mind every time there is some big thing that they feel they have to get upset about, because they have nothing better to do with their time.  Lately, it’s been Riley J Dennis getting her panties in a bunch because people chose to call out the video that her girlfriend made where she basically says that if you don’t date a trans person who still has the genitals of the sex they were born as, you’re a bigot.

This argument is so dumb for a lot of reasons.  I’ve already talked before in my post about the Fall of Zinnia Jones how this is simply ridiculous.  After all, you’ll like dick if you just give it a try!  What’s what?  That argument sounds just like the ones that straight people said to gay girls?  I know my friend Quinn heard that same argument from the Priest in the church she grew up in when she was younger.  But now we have the regressive left literally taking that EXACT SAME argument and waving it with the banner of it being a good thing.  That just blows my fucking mind.  They’re so desperate to be seen as tolerant that they take the rhetoric of intolerant people and use it as a way of proving how not-intolerant they are.  There’s so much delicious irony.

I am one of the people who says that Riley’s girlfriend was basically making the argument that sexual “preferences” is a choice.  Because you can choose to magically like dick, if you are a girl and don’t.  Just like I can magically choose to like dick on a girl.  Right?  See, here’s something that all these SJW retards don’t want to realize when they make the argument “the last thing I think about is genitals.”  Really?  Then you’ve never have sex.  See, sex is about sexual contact.  To all the SJW guys, here’s a question – you have a girlfriend?  If you get one, and you’re in bed with her, would you wanna suck her cock?  Would you want her fucking you up the ass with it?  Because if she has one, then that’s how sexual contact will go.  You will be fucking her penis.  I wonder if that’s how Steve Shives gets it on.  Maybe he is living proof that you can grow to like it long enough if you take it.

Everyone I see on Twitter and other sites arguing this crap seems to want to totally ignore the fact that if you are making the argument that what you like to feel, sexually, can be changed.  So ladies, you like getting fuck by a big cock?  Great.  These people are telling you that you can not like that, if you just give it a chance.  Do you see how stupid that is?!

It baffles me how we’ve come to this.  Everyone on the far-left is so desperate to not be called a bigot that we’re going to pretend that what you are sexually into can just be fundamentally changed if you just give it enough of a chance.  All the straight guys are gonna magically want to suck cock and all the straight girls are going to want to touch vaginas.  An argument for which there is NO evidence of ANY kind that it is true.  After all, you’re born wanting what you want.  The same argument that the gay community uses equally applies here.

We live in an age where, in order to be seen as “progressive,” there is a fucking purity test.  This bothers me.  This social justice mentality has infected everything.  A lot of people are saying that going after SJWs is tired, but then we see this stupid crap, and I realize that it’s not.  It’s as big now as it has ever been.  And these people don’t see how they’re doing real damage to their own movement.  Because now, instead of wanting to be allies, they’re made to feel guilty about their “preferences.”  Yeah, because what you like to have when you are at the most intimate moments of your life is just something you can choose.  Imbeciles.

I get where all of this is coming from.  For real, I do.  I maintain that I get why Riley said this crap.  It’s because she didn’t want people to be rejected.  Rejection hurts.  But here’s the thing that Riley and all the people who think like her don’t seem to want to accept – rejection is part of life.  Trust me, I’ve gotten a ton of it.  I know what it’s like.  You gotta accept that not everyone is going to be attracted to you.  Some people who see that giant honking Adam’s Apple are going to be put off.  Some people who see that painfully-average penis are going to be put off.  That’s not bigotry.  It’s because they know what they want to have sexual contact with, and that isn’t it.  Hey Riley, would you suck your girlfriend’s cock if she had one?  Would you let her peg you with it?  If that thought provides even a moment’s hesitation for you, then maybe you fucking get it.  And maybe you can see that this isn’t bigotry.  It’s just someone wanting something else in the bedroom than you.  I’m sorry if you or your friends have been hurt before because someone didn’t want you.  But we all have to deal with that.  Saying that a lesbian is a bigot because she doesn’t want a penis inside her is just as disgusting as the aforementioned Priest saying Quinn should just give dick a try and it would grow on her.

I genuinely can’t see the difference between those points of view.

Until next time, a quote,

“I think putting labels on people is just an easy way of marketing something you don’t understand.” – Adam Jones

Peace out,

Maverick

Get a “Yes” Every Ten Minutes During Sex, or Else It’s Rape!

That’s what students in California are being taught, anyway.  That’s right, in an age where even the act of giving birth is considered rape (seriously, check this link out.  It will blow your mind), there will come a day when I honestly believe that some SJW chucklefuck is going to come out and say that vaginal penetration of any kind is rape.  Oh, wait, that’s already happened!  Now we have your tax dollars going to telling the youth of the future that if they don’t get a verbal yes at least every ten minutes, it’s rape.  Don’t believe me?!  Here’s a link to an article which goes into it!

I cannot believe that I live in an age where we have decided to eschew intimacy or being able to read your partner’s body language in favor of now a constant stream of verbal recognition of the act of sex being okay.  Hey, ladies, if you are getting hot and heavy with a guy, do you want him to continually interrupt to make sure you still want sex?  Yeah, that seems like a great time.  A girly-mate of mine I used to livestream with had this great rebuttal to this line of thinking – “if I’m having sex with someone and he keeps asking if I consent, I’m gonna tell him to get the fuck out.”

Part of me wants that app to come back.  You remember the one?  Where both parties verbally acknowledge consent of sex before having it?  So when the girl comes back later and says that it’s rape the accused would have it on record that she consented.  Because the world we live in now is one where men are always seen as the potential predator.  If the man doesn’t constantly get proof that the other party wants it, he is an animal.  Not only that, but even if he does do this, the woman can STILL come back later and say that he raped her!  I am not some MRA douche, but for the love of Groj, this is ridiculous.  I am so tired of men being treated like amoral animals who are one not getting a “yes” away from being a rapist.

You notice that this shit isn’t being said to girls?  What if the girl wanted to fuck?  Is she then required to get a verbal “yes” every ten minutes?  Well then, that means at least three of the women I have had sex with raped me!  Because they were the ones who initiated the intimate contact, so I guess that means I was the victim of rape.  Except, oh, wait, I wasn’t!  Because they could tell that I was into their sexual contact!  Just like I could read their body language and knew them well enough to know where their limits were.  But no, let’s just treat every man like they are a potential sexual predator while women are the victims.  Of course they are.  Had a feminist come into the comments of a post I linked above who totally agrees with that assertion.

The thing that bugs me most about this, besides how it vilifies one gender while placing the other on a goddamn pedestal, is the fact that we are now canonizing it in high school.  We are canonizing making students dumber!  In a time where our youth are more and more disconnected from subtlety and nuance, we are now saying “fuck body language, fuck intimacy, you need all sexual interaction to be overt to the point of stupidity.”  Hey, teenage girls in California – your schools actually think you are too stupid to be able to communicate if you are uncomfortable in a way that your partner can understand clearly.

But I can already hear the counter-argument – this is for the girls who are too afraid to say something!  Body language, you dumb fucks!  Not to mention, do you know whose not going to care if their partner is trying to signal them being uncomfortable?  Rapists!  For all the teenage boys who take this bullshit to heart, the person who actually wants to force themselves on a girl are not going to give one dusty fuck even if she says no.  I just don’t understand what the purpose of this exercise in futility is for.

Hell, that same article even makes the argument that when a girl says yes, it might still be no!  There is no winning with these fucking people!  And you know what the grand result of this sort of education is going to be?  Boys are going to stop trying to have sex with girls.  They’ll just jerk it to porn, because after all, even if a girl says yes, it can still be rape!  Boys might be horny buggers, but fear of being called a rapist is a powerful thing.  It’s already having an effect.  Universities that have this mindset propagating are seeing sex culture around campus dying off pretty fast.  Now it’s going to filter down to hormonal teenagers who desperately want sex, but don’t want to be called a rapist.

Part of me hopes this is an elaborate method for population control.  Let’s just teach all boys that even a girl who says yes can call you a rapist, and you can watch the birth rates decline like crazy.  Japan is at a point where they are about to have the first population drop in thousands of years.  You know, where the death rate overtakes the birth rate.  The rest of the First World isn’t far behind.  Man, if that is the case, then bravo, feminists.  Because after all, when no one is breeding and everyone is afraid of any kind of intimacy, feminists can have their wonderful utopia.

As for me, I don’t want to live in a world where I have to live that way.  I want a world where I can read if a girl is into it by seeing her body language and knowing her well enough to know when she is uncomfortable.  Because I don’t do one-night stands.  I want to at least like the person I am fucking.  And I feel for the generation coming up in this “progressive” world.  Because why should we teach critical thinking?  All that nuance is hard.  Best to just go with the retarded approach.

Until next time, a quote,

“I’m a firm believer in the idea that this world would not be very interesting or stimulating if we all thought and felt the same.” – TJ Kirk

Peace out,

Maverick

RAB: Anime Needs More Sex (the intimate kind, not porn)

You know what I hate about anime – modern anime.  There is so much shit.  I don’t even keep track of what comes out anymore because 99% of it is pure crap.  I can hear all the sad otaku now.  “You’re just one of those hipster anime fans who say they only like old stuff!”  “Lemme guess, you only like artsy anime?”  Please.  I’m looking at one of the most thematically uncomfortable anime on the planet right now – Koi Kaze.  Am I a hipster?  I guess.  I long for the days when anime was made by fantastic people and was willing to take some risks.  I miss the days of mecha anime.  No shit, what happened to that?  I haven’t heard about an interesting mecha series in forever.  I hear they are making a third season to Code Geass, and I’m like – why?  The plot was wrapped up pretty nicely.  There wasn’t a single loose end.  Brittania was destroyed.  Lelouch united the world in hating him.  He canonized Zero as a hero of the people.  The truth about Geass was now gone and everyone who had heard it was dead or had been forcibly put under Zero’s control.  Where does the plot go from here?  Wait, what was I talking about?

Oh, right, anime needs more sex too.  I’m not talking about porn.  I’m talking about intimacy.  I’m talking about intimate relationships between characters that has them doing the deed and making it not gratuitous but instead a look at the strength of their connection.  I am so tired of anime that treats any form of romantic expression as if it’s the most daring and insane thing ever.  Maybe it’s because almost all anime have a protagonist whose balls haven’t dropped yet.  At least not that you could tell.  So many relationships in so many anime could have been made better if we got to see some romantic expression in the form of intimacy between characters.

I can already hear the counterargument – “but Lucien, it’s about the thematic elements!  You can feel the connection but it doesn’t need to be shoved in your face!”  Sometimes, sure.  I mean, FLCL had a romantic connection between the main protagonist and his roommate.  He was romantically interested in her.  There even is an episode where him and her do the metaphorical deed.  You don’t see anything, but the theme at play with two people coming together and doing it is right there.  It works especially there because the protagonists is underage.  Seeing him actually pursuining his roomie romantically would have been weird.  But other series could use more of it.

Here’s the thing, I absolutely hated the Rahxephon movie, save for one truly stand-out part – where Kamina is absolutely losing it and Haruka decides to comfort him.  There is a moment of genuine intimacy where he decides that he can’t hold back, and so he actually does it with her.  They even have a conversation after having sex and you really feel the two bonding.  I love that.  How I wish that more anime was able to just have two characters lounging around after fucking and musing about whatever.  Sharing a sexual moment and bonding afterwards.  How many of us have actually been there?  Some of the best conversations I have had were with someone I was in bed with.  Or in the back of a girl’s car.  Wherever.

It’s becoming such an overused trope where every time a boy sees a girl in an anime that he is interested in or even dating in their underwear it is treated like the most scandalous thing.  Why?  I mean, if it’s some girl you aren’t dating, that makes some sense.  But when I see it done with characters who are couples, that drives me up on the wall.  What if she wants him to see her in her underwear?  Why do all the women in these series act like being seen in their fun clothes as such an insult?  If the guy is being a perv, absolutely.  If the dude just happened up on it, though, how is that on him?  I see all these beta males getting fucked up by the females all for seeing something completely on accident, often with them making apologies for their actions because they do feel ashamed for it.

I’m not saying that every series need to have characters fucking.  Since so much of anime is about teenagers, that is kinda weird.  But when I was watching the first (and only good) season of Darker Than Black, I got to thinking – wouldn’t it make more sense for these two characters actually liking each other if they were hooking up?  I mean, she’s a police officer, he’s a college student.  It would make sense if they went out and hooked up and maybe got to talking.  We are supposed to buy a relationship between them out of them going out and playing in the batting cages?  I don’t think so.  Call it my American sensibilities, but are we really going to say the Japanese don’t have any kind of casual sex culture?  Well, given that the population is starting to drop there and how the males of that culture are terrified of females, maybe.  Shit.  That’s grim.

Or like in Stein’s Gate, where you have Okarin and his companion making out.  It’s a great scene (aside from the TERRIBLE music in it.  It honestly would have been better without it), but I kinda would have liked to see maybe the two having a heart-to-heart after getting physical.  There was a running line up ’til then about both of them being virgins.  How touching would it have been if they lost their virginity to one-another, right before Okarin has to sacrifice her to save his best friend?  I can see them just laying in bed, with that witty dialogue between the two about the cruel nature of life and how they have this one chance to bridge the gap between them and must savor it forever.  There is some subtle implication that that is what happened between the scene with them making out and later that evening as she is leaving, but I don’t know.  Kinda wanna know what those two talk about post-sex.  Bet it would be fascinating.

My point is can we have some more mature relationships, and get to see some of that be expressed?  I don’t want it to be obscene.  Unless that is being used to make a point.  Like a couple who has a very untethered and violent relationship.  Kind of the Joker and Harley sort of deal.  That could be interesting.  But can we not treat every kiss or seeing of a female in underwear like it is the end of the world?  I cannot wait to see the comments I get about how I am insulting Japanese culture or some dumb thing.

Until next time, a quote,

“Intimacy brings understanding.  And passion is nice wherever you can find it.” – Yeoman Kelly Chambers, Mass Effect 2

Peace out,

Maverick

Sex Robots Offend Feminists (A response to Feminist Current)

Do you all remember when anything about sexuality had the Christian right up in arms?  I miss those days.  Now it’s the feminist left who hates everything that men do with their dongs and their sexual needs, to the point of outright claiming that men’s sexual needs don’t exist.  Meanwhile, they will canonize female sexuality to the point that a man has to ask his partner if he can continue thrusting every ten seconds or else it’s rape.

And there is more and more push-back against this.  From the app where both parties would confirm their consent for sex beforehand, so men would have an airtight piece of evidence if they stuck their dick in crazy and get called a rapist after completely consensual sex.  Naturally the feminists were outraged.  Men finding ways to fight back against their insanity is always a bad thing, no matter how justified their reaction, after all.  That’s the “patriarchy” for ya.  And now we have a new contender to the throne of feminists outrage over bullshit – sex robots.  That’s right a robot that you have purely for sex that does not have sentience is a feminist issue.  Because of course it is.  I swear, one day the existence of men at all will be a feminists issue.  If women like the Femitheist are to be believed, it’s one that should be rectified with castration.  Here’s a link to this retarded article, now let’s talk about it.  And for the record, I am not a MGTOW.  Had some SJW call me that recently because I find modern feminism ridiculous.

Sex robots epitomize patriarchy and offer men a solution to the threat of female independence

Hey, ladies, I’m gonna let you in on a little something – THE ROBOTS AREN’T REAL WOMEN!  Retards!  Oh, let’s get through this.

People love to pretend as though everything from prostitution to pornography to sex dolls are a solution to not only men’s supposed loneliness and unmet sexual “needs,” but to their violent, perverse desires.

Wow.  I love this.  Because men don’t really have loneliness issues or sexual frustration.  Not at all.  Because no man is ever without sex.  Since we live in some mythical patriarchy, I can just go outside and grab a woman and start banging her.  That’s totally how this works, right?  The condescension of these people blows my fucking mind.

Similarly, men have claimed sex robots are the perfect solution to their apparent inability to stop raping and abusing women, as well as their inability to socialize with women as though they are actual human beings.

Citation, please.  What man, anywhere, has EVER said this?  Yes, because I have a massive urge to rape all women all the time.  This is so fucking insulting to men.  I have NEVER felt the urge and could NEVER bring myself to ever force myself onto another person, male or female.  The idea of sexually assaulting someone makes me sick.  I like it rough, but I go into that with people who understand safe words and I am very good about aftercare for those I have a kinky scene with.  I actually know how to be good with my partner in rough sex.  But I have never felt the urge to force myself on any woman.  Sure, I am currently going through some loneliness and sexual frustration issues, but there isn’t a single part of me that wants to force myself onto another person.  Fuck this stuck-up cunt.  I don’t use that word lightly.  This is such a disgusting generalization of men, and the fact that this woman believes it makes her the lowest form of scum imaginable.

In other words, Harmony is a dream woman — the perfect date. Men can pretend they value human interaction, while remaining completely dominant and enjoying an entirely one-way relationship.

What environment fosters this level of sexist bigotry?  I am dying to know.  Listen here, bitch, I would like nothing more than a two-way relationship.  Because I love to cook and talk to people, having a partner that I can make delicious food for while chatting about our views on life, politics, video games, movies, or whatever sounds wonderful.  Your beliefs about my gender is so disgusting, that it honestly makes me think – no wonder men are choosing to go to sex robots.  If I had the choice between a robot and someone as heartless as you, I’d go with the robot.  At least she wouldn’t treat me like shit for the genitals I have.  I’m assuming you’re a lesbian.  Hopefully women see you for the harpy that you are too.

Feminism has insisted, over decades, that women are human, that we don’t exist for men, and even that we don’t need men.

But remember, feminism is about helping BOTH genders!  Really!  *cough*Bullshit!*cough*

The misogynerds at Abyss Creations say they are “inventing the future of sex,” but what they’ve actually succeeded in creating is the epitome of male domination.

Oh, so these people who created Harmony are also misogynists too.  And your evidence is…what, exactly?  You continually make broad generalizations about men and it just bugs me.  Plus, it’s so obvious how fucking butthurt you are that people are finally making robots because real women are now more concerned about you respecting their identity as a poly-kin non-binary  wolf with Hitler as a headmate than about a relationship with you.  In a world where men and male sexuality is demonized and it’s now trendy to hate men because of their sexuality, how on Earth is the creation of a sex robot even a little surprising?  My girly-mate who is staying with me right now genuinely doesn’t believe that this kind of mindset is going to find cultural ground at large, but the truth is that it already has, and reactions like this bitch’s are proof of it.  A product made for lonely men is created by misogynists because all men want to rape women.  At least if this medusa is to be believed.

They don’t bleed, cry, vomit, or feel pain, which even porn stars can’t avoid doing when abused, as they so often are on film.

I’m gonna send this to Mercedes Carrera and see if she agrees with it.  As a woman who is very proud of her identity as a pornstar, I’m sure that her opinion on this issue would carry a lot of weight.

The robots, when they go on sale, will start at $15,000 each. The company also sells a more affordable option — for only $100 you can buy the bottom half of a woman’s face, to stick your penis into at will.

Hey ladies, for $20 you can buy a dismembered penis to stick into your vagina at will.  Oh, right, never mind.  Female sexuality is canonized.  It’s only sexist when men do it.  That’s the feminist mantra in a nutshell.

When he asks Harmony if she wants to walk, she responds, “I don’t want anything but you.” On the rare occasions she is allowed to communicate an opinion, it is immediately followed by insecurity: “What do you think about that?” Harmony asks McMullen timdly, after stating she would like to have sex with “both genders.”

I guess the writer of this article is unaware that Harmony isn’t self-aware.  It isn’t a fully-realized AI.  It has pre-programmed responses that it learns based on user input.  All responses are part of its code.  See, if Harmony was self-aware and had real emotions and real thoughts on things, saying that people using her only for sex and not caring about what she thinks might have some weight.  But she isn’t self-aware.  To put in Mass Effect terms – while she may be able to feign real feelings or sentience, she is just a VI.  Hell, it might even be convincing, I haven’t seen any videos of Harmony, but in the end, she still isn’t aware of what she is or where she is.  Just going off the code she is given.

These sex robots strike me as an MRA/gamer’s dream come true.

Hey, women who game, you are an MRA and all gamers want sex robots because none of us can handle real women.  I fucking hate this person so much.  It’s blatantly obvious that her butthurt is just overflowing here and she can’t help herself when she does nothing but make insults about the people who could use this product and generalizes men as much as she can.  Now she’s going after gamers too.  I bet she has a view in her head of gamers as the men in that episode of South Park playing WoW.  What is wrong with this woman?

Kleeman writes of a computer engineer named Douglas Hines who initially created robots to mimic friends and loved ones who had passed on or to communicate with, say, family members who could no longer speak, due to age or disability, but moved into the sex robot industry because he (rightly) figured it would be more profitable.

Not seeing the problem here.  A market for robots that can mimic dead loved ones is an interesting idea, but clearly wouldn’t be very profitable.  It makes sense to make a product that you want to sell to a demographic who you can see interested in it.

Similarly, McMullen says Harmony and her sister robots exist “for people who can’t interact with other people.” It’s not at all coincidental that this argument is the exact same one used in defense of prostitution. Women’s objectification and exploitation is always defended of the basis of some imagined defenseless, sad, disabled, lonely man who is confined to his house either due to mental or physical conditions or some kind of crippling shyness, and is completely harmless — a victim more than anything else. Prostitution, like sex robots, is claimed to be just about “making someone happy,” as McMullen puts it, and nothing more.

God, bitch, what is wrong with you?!  “I’m gonna make fun of this imagined lonely man who is so desperate for company that they will shell out money for a VI robot!  Because fuck that loser!”  That’s what I hear when I read this.  It REEKS of the most crude gendered insults imaginable, going after groups of men that it’s trendy to hate.  What a complete sociopath this hag is.  I fucking hate her so much.  That would be like me making fun of a lonely woman who has body issues for getting a dildo, which is something I would never do.  What kind of upbringing creates someone this devoid of empathy?  I’m just dying to know.  I would never encourage violence on anyone, but if this chick just happened to stumble down a well, I’m not shedding tears for her.  It’s pretty obvious she wouldn’t be for me.  Or any man, for that matter.

I hear feminists say over and over “what if you have a mother or a sister?!”  Well, I guess this bitch doesn’t have a father or brothers, because all the vitriol she throws at men make it clear that she hates this gender and wishes nothing but illness upon it.

The dream girl is, as always, not human.

No sugartits.  She just isn’t you.  Or anyone like you.  She’s someone with empathy who I can talk to and who likes my cooking.  But you have no empathy, so you don’t fall into that category.  Fuck your article, and fuck you.

Until next time, a quote,

“You are threatened by sex dolls and sex bots because you know you have absolutely nothing to offer another human being. Prove me wrong!” – ShoeOnHead

Peace out,

Maverick

Lucien’s Review: Batman: The Killing Joke

batman-the-killing-jokeOne of the biggest comics of all time has finally been made into a movie.  I’m honestly surprised it took this long.  It’s probably the most well-known of Alan Moore’s comics, and for good reason.  The visuals, the incredibly dark story, and the cryptic ending that a lot of people have had some very interesting discussions about.  It’s all very cool, and while I’m not a comic book person, even I have to respect the classics such as that.  This film was created in the vein of the best of that.  At least, when it was telling the story of the comic.  When it wasn’t, this movie has one of the most surreal subplots that goes from 0-60 in a nanosecond.  It was seriously so jarring that I was given whiplash.  I don’t get how this movie was able to do this.  They could have easily followed the plot of the comic and it would have been a short but sweet film.  Most of my review, in fact, is going to focus on that subplot, because it is such a problem.  But let’s get down to the nit and grit first.

I won’t give a plot summary.  If you know anything about Batman comics, you already know what it is.  Joker is getting his dander up about fucking with Batman’s day, by putting a bullet into Barbara Gordon’s back and terrorizing her father.  That should have been all of the plot, but nope!  Still not where I want to be to talk about the biggest flaw in this movie, so let’s get some other stuff out of the way.

The animation of this movie isn’t superb, which is a little strange.  I may not always like the movies from WB Animation, but I have always seen their animation as spot-on.  It’s really something.  Especially the action sequences.  For the flaws of the films from this studio, the slick action has always been something that I have enjoyed.  And to this movie’s credit, when it wants to shine, it does.  But it’s just so ho-hum the rest of the time.  It’s kind of like a typical episode of Batman: The Animated Series.  My biggest problem with this episode takes pretty much the runtime of an average episode of that series, so maybe it fits.

When it comes to the acting, we got some of the best.  We got Kevin Conroy and Mark Hamill reprising their iconic roles, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  The girl who played Batgirl is also pretty good.  I think they even got the butler from The Animated Series too..  That was a nice touch.

But now we get to the part that I want to talk about.  This isn’t really one movie.  It’s a movie and an episode of The Animated Series.  The first 28 minutes of this film is literally some other movie.  It has absolutely ZERO connection to the events that follow it.  None.  It tells the story of a case surrounding a man who has a creepy obsession with Batgirl.  This plot has zero relevance to what happens later.  Absolute zero.  You could cut it out of the film and it wouldn’t hurt a thing.  I am just trying to understand why it is in here.  For real, why?  I’m about to spoil this subplot, but since it does absolutely zip to affect the rest of the film, that doesn’t do any damage.

What’s more, it’s a strange as fuck subplot too.  You have this guy who is obsessed with Batgirl.  Okay.  You have Batgirl and Batman investigating, and there being some tension between the two.  Okay.  Then you find out from Barbara talking to her gay friend that she is into some guy who is an authority figure in her life.  Gee, I wonder who that is.  Okay.  This is the kind of stuff that really should have been spaced out more.  You have what would be two or three episodes worth of personal exploration in the series that this animation is riffing on condensed into 15 minutes of plot.  The pacing of this little “episode” is just nuts!  There is something about how Batgirl won’t know what it is to be in her position unless she goes to the edge.  Alright.  Then sex!  Wait, what?  As I said, 0-60 in a nanosecond.

The choices done in making this part of the film just baffles me.  Why do this?  The plot of “The Killing Joke” is all you need.  For real, that’s it.  All you’d have to do is have that plot.  The movie would be half an hour shorter, sure, but whatever.  Why add this on when it literally goes nowhere and once it’s done you are basically told to forget about it.  Hell, the movie even tells you to forget about it.  With some stupid narration that opens and closes the “episode,” you as an audience member are told to forget about it.  It is impossible for me to fathom why this choice was made.  It brings the pace of this movie to a grinding halt and leaves you feeling like your time was wasted because the film even tells you that it was meaningless.  I don’t get this.  It’s pissing me off.  Part of me wishes that there was some whole other movie made to explain this, because you are basically force-fed through exposition that Barbara is into Batman.  Where did this come from?

This has NOTHING to do with the whole “bat-sex” thing that so many critics like Angry Joe got on.  I don’t care about that.  If B-man and B-girl want to get their freak on, that’s fine.  But I need to care about it.  I need to care about why this is happening.  But I don’t.  It’s packed into another movie that has NOTHING to do with this plot.  That’s my problem here.

All in all, this isn’t a bad movie.  For real, when we get to the part that is the namesake of this movie, it’s actually pretty good.  However, to get there, we have to wade through a subplot that is like a drive-by episode of The Animated Series.  After a year of bad DC films, I was really hoping that this would be the one to make it all better.  But nope.  It was just another so-so movie to add to the pile.  And all thanks to that retarded subplot.  What a shame.

Final Verdict
6 out of 10

Peace out,

Maverick

When a Feminist Says that Women Don’t Want to Be Sexy

I did a Critical Examination where I talked about how dumb the latest video of Anita Sarkeesian is by pointing out that any expression of sexuality of a character in an art form is open to interpretation.  However, there is one thing that was glaringly bugging me.  Something that I couldn’t just leave alone.  Mostly because it highlights a dichotomy between sex negative and positive feminism that is just so amusing to me.

A long time ago, the YouTuber Shoe0nHead did a video where she made sport of the things that feminists have talked about.  She said that it is one of her least-favorite videos and that she would delete it if it wasn’t so popular.  The reason why is because she makes a statement poking fun at the whole thing about feminists being so butthurt about women showing skin in video games, and then poking fun at the women who get butthurt when they walk outside in their underwear and people are off-put.  She didn’t understand that there were two differing points of view on the subject.  The first is Sex feminism, that says that female sexuality is icky and any depiction of it is wrong.  The kind of thing that Anita Sarkeesian falls into.  Unbelievably-squarely.  Not even kidding, she hits the mark so fucking well.  The second is Sex + feminism, which says that female sexuality is supposed to be loud and proud and fuck the haters.  That’s where we get the things like Slutwalk.  If that’s still a thing.  Haven’t heard much about it in some time, but still.

What I think Shoe missed is the fact that these two dichotomies and the contrasting thoughts between them is worth pointing out.  Why?  Because this discrepancy is interesting.  Anita Sarkeesian, in her “Lingerie is not Armor” video, says that one of the arguments that people make for why female characters dress the way they do is because the character wants to do that.  She claims that that is the most ridiculous argument of all the one’s she’s heard (all of which are bullshit, and one of which is so weird that I have NEVER heard it said by anyone).  Did you all catch that?  She said that no woman anywhere wants to be sexy.  Wow…

It’s statements like that that make me wonder how other feminists can listen to her.  There was a video she made about “Women as Background Decoration” where she made a point about sex workers in video games being exploited and how no woman would want to be in that position in real life.  Naturally, that ruffled people’s feathers.  Because no woman anywhere wants to do things like porn or has chosen of her own free will to hook.  Right?

But I haven’t heard much about this video.  Why?  Ladies, this woman is literally saying that no woman wants to be be sexy for her own gratification.  That is the most patently-absurd thing I have ever heard.  Let me get any of the lady-friends I know who follow me on Instagram and ask them if that’s the case, with their selfie output.  Or perhaps I could go to a beach and ask one of the women wearing a two-piece if she wants to look sexy for her own gratification.  I bet the answers would be pretty much unanimous – yes.  How do women not find this sort of thing unbelievably-condescending?  A woman who claims to speak for you and your gender as an advocate is saying that you do not want to be sexually-appealing.  Ever.  I would think women who work very hard at fashion or other things might want to smack a bitch in the face.  Very hard.

Okay, just did an impromptu poll of my lady-friends.  Almost-universally the response was that anytime they dress up, sexy or otherwise, it is so that they can feel good about themselves.  It is self-aggrandizing.  So I just blew the brains out of Sarkeesian’s argument.  I blew it’s fucking brains out all over the floor.  Why do I talk about this stuff?  Honestly, I think the reason is because I am just so fascinated by the fact that there are women who take what this bitch says seriously.

More than that – why does Anita feel this way?  Well, part of it is because she’s a con artist and she has a narrative to pander to.  But assuming that she’s not, and she actually believes any of the words that come out of her mouth (and there are plenty of women who do think this way, so it still works), I can’t help but think that she is sexually repressed.  She is so afraid of her body and her sexuality that she can’t imagine an idea where someone would be happy enough with how they look to want to show it off.  Again, this is taking what she says at face value.  We all saw that picture of her in a dress at a Time Magazine event.  But for those who actually do buy this (because they’re REALLY dumb), it must mean that they are so scared of how they look that this is the only way they can justify a woman dressing in a sexy way.

Oh, and she again ignores that lesbian and bisexual women exist and find women sexually attractive.  What else is new?  So, I still have responses from girly-mates coming in on my social media about this, so now I will ask the women in my audience here – do you ever dress up in a way that shows off your body or flaunts your sexuality for your own sense of self-satisfaction?  Just so you can feel good about yourself?  Let me know in the Comments.

Until next time, a quote,

“Enjoy your body.  Use it every way you can.  Don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it.  It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.”  – Baz Luhrmann, Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen

Peace out,

Maverick

Returning to the Club

If you asked me where my preference of the company of the undead to the living started, I’d say that it was one night at a club that I used to frequent.  Before I died, this place and I had quite the repore.  It was a club for the kink lifestyle.  A place for those who liked it rough to come and be themselves.  I used to come to this place most every week.  There were a couple of girls and guys who I would get with.  We could sit and talk about whatever was interesting in life for hours.  Or we could go into the “play rooms” and have some kinky fun.  Either way, it was a fun night.
It had been weeks since I was there.  More than a few.  I had had one of the girls legit call me and ask if everything was okay.  What could I say?  How on Earth could I explain what was happening with me?  That I was a member of the undead.  In fact, I was the greatest of them all now.  They wouldn’t believe me.  Hell, the days when I look in the mirror, and I see the face behind this mortal facade, I don’t even believe.  How can I? Who could possibly see that part of themselves and think that this is who they are?  If there are words to explain that, you tell me.  Seeing my reflection no longer filled me with a feeling that I am not an especially good-looking man.  Now it was sheer horror, because I didn’t see a man’s face.  I saw the skull that was my real face now.
One night, I had one of the girls hit me up repeatedly, asking me to go to the club.  I wanted to find a way to not go.  Hell, I could have just said nothing.  But just because I’m a monster doesn’t mean I have to be a dick.  So, with all the apprehension I had, I got something presentable on and headed out.  I could have just used the robes I have in my natural form to turn into something smoking hot, but why not partake in these mortal clothes while in the mortal shell?  Made sense.

The club itself is the most obscure place imaginable.  It was somewhere that you would never find unless you were looking for it.  Only those who knew about this place knew where to find it.  I found out from an acquaintance I used to run with.  He was an interesting sort.  Told me all about the place.  A drive I had made a thousand times.  Parked on the street.  No charge late at night for street parking.  Nice.  Approaching the door, my stomach was going in all kinds of knots.  Why?  What about this was so frightening?  Memories of my first time being there.  All the awkwardness of being alone in a palace of wonderful sin.  The memories were good.  Some of the best people you’ll ever meet call this place their own.
At the unassuming door, the bouncer looks up at me.  This girl is huge.  The most raging bull-dyke you will ever see.  That’s not me calling her that, by the way.  That was how she was introduced to me by the woman who runs the club.  The lady had no problem with that distinction.  Her face lit up.
“I’ll be damned!  Ain’t seen you in forever!”  She walked over and gave me a hug.  Like I said, good people here.  They are pretty alright, so long as you don’t fuck with them.  In a way outside the good one, anyway.
“Yeah, I…uh…had some stuff going on.”
“Well, you better get in there!  Angie’s been going stir-crazy.  She says that she knows something’s wrong with you.  Her little’s scared that you are made at them.”
I nodded.  “I know.  I’ll have to apologize for that.  I’m not mad at them.  It’s just, some stuff’s been happening recently, and I have kinda been wrapped up in my own shit.”
The bouncer gave me a look.  “You aren’t selling drugs or anything, are you?”
A snort.  “No, nothing like that.  It’s just some personal stuff.  You know how it goes.”
“Yeah, I do.  Anyway, head on inside.”  She held open the door.  Time to face the music.

The first thing about this place is the rank odor.  It’s a wonderful mix of BO, incense, cheap dive, and sex.  You get used to it, after a while.  The weird thing is how clean they keep this place.  It’s part of the rules.  If you don’t clean up after yourself, you get kicked out.  Clean and simple, right?  Well, kinky and simple.  The black  curtains up everywhere, protecting prying eyes from all the debauchery.  The first room is just a place for you to meet-and-greet.  There is a larger social area downstairs, which is connected to the rooms where people can go and fuck.  The big draw behind the largest curtain was the “main dungeon.”  This was where the big spectacle was.  You could watch Doms playing with their subs.  All kinds of games happened here.  All kinds of people.  You’d be amazed.  I’ve watched some of the most unassuming people become totally different in these walls.  It was a place where the lies we feed the rest of the world could fall away.
Next up was the pulsing music.  Why is the assumption that if you are into the kinky lifestyle, you are into heavy metal and sludge-y sex music?  It’s odd.  I’m all oldies, myself.  Wish they would play the Rolling Stones here.  I could fuck someone to that.  Sorry if that’s too much info.  But then, you are reading this, so hey, you get what you’re offered.  Still, it is intense.  Maybe that’s why the play it.  Violent rhythms make you want to explore.  They make your blood flow.  For a place needing an intense atmosphere, that is something to have.
Since I had been a regular here, they didn’t charge me.  They milked the new people for membership fees, but if you were a regular, you got off cheap.  It was nice.  Immediately, people noticed me.  A naval engineer who liked to cross-dress came over and gave me a hug.  Nice guy.  He was a sub in the worst way, but he was a peach to talk to.  Next up was the lady who rang people up.  She was topless.  Looked fantastic.  Had had two kids, and her body was still pretty damn good.  A little sag, in places, but whatever.  Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes.  At least that’s how I see it.  Plus, I admit to having something of a fetish for boobs.  But only the natural ones.  Fake tits are a turn-off.
“Hey you!  You’re back!”
I walked over.  “Yeah.”
“Where’d you disappear to?  Join a cult or something?”
Shrugging.  “Just had some shit to deal with.  You know?”
“I do.  Angie’s downstairs.  Her little will be all stoked to see you.”
“I know.  Talk to you later.”
Heading downstairs, the acrimonious odor of this place was mixed with that of food.  This place is fucking baffling.  An establishment where they basically cater to any fetish that isn’t utterly repulsive or completely unsanitary can serve some pretty alright food.  Weird.  I get down the stairs, having to duck at the bottom.  When I turn the corner, I see them there.  Angie’s blonde hair is falling down her body.  All she’s wearing is a flannel shirt and underwear.  Her little is sitting in her lap, resting her head against her mistress’s shoulder.  The two look up immediately when I enter into the dim lighting.
Without any prompting, Angie’s little hops up and runs over.  The girl wraps her arms around me, like a little kid with her dad.  It fits, given the dynamic she has with her mistress.  I hug her back.
“Hey you.”
“Hi,” the girl replies in her mousey way.  “Why have you been gone so long?  You made mommy worry.”
“I know.  I’m sorry.”
Walking over, Angie looked down at her little.  The girl immediately jumped back, head down.  The woman had compete power over the girl.  I had to give her that.  The age difference had some people confused.  A woman just over 30 with a girl who was literally just out of high school.  But it is something you don’t understand until you’re there.
“You’re back!”  In addition to hugging me, she gave me a soft kiss.  God, this girl’s lips.  Never have I met a woman who can kiss like this.  Not once.  My current tastes being where they are, I can’t deny that these lips I have missed.  Her little is quite the kisser as well.  Something that she’s been learning from her mistress.  A better teacher, I cannot imagine.  After all, you wanna learn how to kiss from someone who knows what they’re doing, right?
Pulling back, she looks up at me.  “Where have you been?”
I don’t meet her eyes.  “Some stuff happened, Angie.  I’ve had a lot to deal with.”  If only I could tell her.  She wouldn’t believe.  She’d think I was insane.  There’s no way I could show her.  She’d be horrified.  I’m horrified.  There were so many mirrors in this place.  Was having to avoid my reflection so much.
Speaking without permission, the little had to make a point.  “Mommy’s been worried.  She thinks that you’re mad at her.”
The girl stopped talking when she got a mean look.
“It’s not you, Angie.  I swear, it’s not.  Some stuff happened, and I just couldn’t do this for a while.”
Now she was wanting more answers.  Her dominate side was coming out.  “Like what?  What was it?  Did you do something wrong?  You aren’t dating anyone, so it wasn’t that.”  She takes my hand.  “What happened?”
How much did I wish that I could tell her the truth?  “Look, Angie, I can’t get into that right now.  I just don’t have the energy or the willpower.  We came here to talk and have some fun.  So let’s do that.”
Gotta give one thing for unlife – sex does make things easier.  Been finding that out with Karamel for weeks.
“Alright, but I’m not letting this go.”  A sly smile.  “Maybe I can get an answer out of you when you’re on your back.”
Take it from me, this woman is never on her back.  She’s a top, and she damn well knows it.  I’ve never complained.

Into one of the play rooms.  So much sex smell floating through this place.  Won’t deny, it was a touch intoxicating.  The Witches Brew is so clean by comparison.  Kink can bring out some raunchy shit in people, am I right?  Anyway, Angie pushes me on to the bed.  I’m looking right into her eyes.  The fire and passion.  She undoes the buttons on her shirt, letting it fall away.  So gorgeous.  Toned and firm.  A life of working her boy out and making sure that she is in fantastic shape.  Her little strips down as well.  Her chest is bound with ropes.  Girl always loved that.
Angie tells the girl to attend to me while she gets ready.  Making out with this girl was always strange.  There was still an age difference between us as well.  My mid-twenties made being with a girl out of high school an odd affair.  But this girl was every bit the fantastic kisser that her mistress is.  The intoxication was flowing through me as well.  Soon, the girl backs off.  Angie’s hand is on her shoulder.  The girl quickly gets off the bed, on her knees on the floor.  Now I am being attended to by her.  The passion ratchets up fast.  I can’t keep my hands off her.  The heat in here has made her body sweat.  I barely notice.  Perks of being undead, right?  Discomfort from the heat is a living person’s problem.  Slick, hot, gorgeous.  I can’t stop wanting the closeness she is offering.  It feels fantastic.
The passion is going higher and higher.  We’re both naked now.  I want her.  All of her.  But then I feel it,  The nagging doubt.  The strangeness.  I look into the eyes of the woman on top of me, and I suddenly can see things.  I see the blood vessels running through her body.  My vision skills are flashing.  No!  I force my eyes to see things as a mortal would.  Why can’t I make this part of myself go away.  I don’t want to be a Reaper right now.  But it doesn’t leave.  No matter how hard I try, it isn’t going away.
Angie notices my sudden apprehension.  “What’s wrong?!” she asks.
“Nothing.  Just a little out of practice.”  I smile up at her, taking her in my arms.  A dominate part of myself is coming up.  In fact, I want to take more.  I want to prove that I’m not a corpse.  Tonight’s the night that I show that she can be topped.  With all the power and eagerness, I attack her lips and her body.  In one smooth motion, I move to be on top of her.  Fire is in the woman’s eyes.  This hasn’t happened before, and she likes it.  Her little looks up in awe.  Invigorated, my eagerness keeps flowing out.  We join together, and she is all over the place.  Soft moans, escaping as her body tense and she joins the effort.  This is such an amazing night.
That’s when it happens.  There’s a mirror!  It’s to the side of the bed.  As I am going at her body, my eyes catch it.  Then, I see the truth.  I see me as a skeletal monster, on top of this beautiful naked woman.  What had I become?  What had I done?  I should have just let myself die.  The Necropolis couldn’t be as painful as this.  My skeletal fingers were inside of her.  My revulsion at what I saw had stopped me cold.
Looking up with desperation, she grabbed at me.  “What?!  What’s wrong?!”
I can’t speak.  There are no words.  All I can do is stare at my reflection and feel so dead inside.  Tears start running down my face.
“I’m so sorry, Angie.  I gotta go.  It’s nothing you did.  I just, can’t be here right now.”
Jumping up and grabbing me, the woman held on tight.  “No!  What the fuck is wrong with you?!  What’s going on?!  Just tell me!  For fuck’s sake, why can’t you talk to me?!”
There was only one way I could put it.  “I died, Angie.  I died, and now I’m still here.  Now, all I can think about is the fact that I was dead.  I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.  Not now.  I swear, I’ll be back.  For now, I just gotta get my head on straight.”
Dressing at record speed, I move out as quick as I can.  The last thing I saw as I left was Angie’s little coming on to the bed and hugging her mistress, who was crying profusely.  What a complete bastard I am.  The worst person imaginable.  But then, I’m not human anymore.  That was another life.  One I’ll never get back.

I arrived at The Witches Brew apartments a little over half and hour later.  Going inside, I see the Madam look up.
“Ah, welcome back!”
“Is she available?” I ask.  She knows who I mean.
“Yes, she is.  Head on up.”
“Thank you.”
It’s almost a mad dash up the stairs.  I just need to find this woman who understands.  The moment I reach the door and open it, I see her there.  In a ruby-red nightie, my undead vision sees her huge fangs, in her natural form.  Immediately, I feel at peace.
The vampire looks up at me, with her cryptic expression.  “I smell sex on you, Reaper.  Where have you been tonight?”
Not saying a word, I walk over to the bed she’s sitting on.  I lay down and put my head on her lap.  Words don’t come to me.  All I do is lay there and cry, with her running her fingers through my hair.  I’ve become a monster, in every way that matters.  The worst thing is, there’s no way home now.

Until next time, a quote,

“Beyond a certain point, there is no return.  This point has to be reached.” -Franz Kafka

Peace out,

Maverick