Friday, 4 August 2017

Miracle Worker

I am no going to admit nor deny that this is me, teaching stuff to a female friend that could or not be someone else's wife.
OK, her wife was very interesting too, but I am a bit allergic to lesbian dommes - and them, to me.

A couple of days ago I was asked by some guy to "convert" his wife to BDSM.

Usually, I come across such a request once every four months or so...

On one side, I could smile and chalk it up to some guy that confuses some plots that appear in porn [mostly, of the "BDSM for vanillas" kind, where these and other "conversions from prude to lewd"are established clichés] with real life.

On the other side, there is really little to smile about - this kind of mismatched marriages is quite common in my generation, and usually does not bode well for either member of the couple.

One one side, most often than not, the one that has no interest for BDSM tends to dismiss entirely the requests of the counterpart, labelling these as expressions of "perversions", "crazy ideas" and other similar terms.

On the other side, depending on how deep and firm is the BDSM streak, the "kinky" part of the couple grows increasingly frustrated with a relationship that is ever so slightly unsatisfying, which is often felt by the other - and some, positively, take offence to it.

"Am I not Enough?" - They seem to ask themselves... and the answer to that question is often "Yes"!, which prompts an angry thought: "[S]he should have told me this before marrying, I'd have gone with someone else".

Which conveniently ignore the detail that a lot of BDSMer tried to ignore their nature, for survival necessities, up to the bitter end - it's kind of hard, to tell your significant one something you do not dare to admit to yourself.

As one may imagine, this situation can easily end in a positively disgraceful feed-back, in which one part chafe under the yoke of the marriage, and the other grows positively adamant in his/her refusal.

Here, I must add that there is not much difference to what happens to men and women looking for a role as  doms, or to women aspiring to explore their submissive side - alas, I have no contacts with heterosexual submissive men, so I cannot say anything about them.

If the spouse is resistant to the proposed "experimentation", the kinkster is usually screwed.

However, leaving these details aside - as too depressing to contemplate - there are other reasons why someone should think well and hard before asking something like that to anybody else.

Let's imagine that the "dom" whose collaboration has been asked is, in fact, a miracle worker.

A fine, brilliant knower of the human natures that is able to achieve such a result, overcoming not only the resistance of the woman against general BDSM, but also her likely feeling when it comes to threesomes and other non-conventional situations.   

If it sounds hard to achieve... it is because it is. 

"Ceding" one's Significant One[s] to a "training dom[me]", even in the course of a shared session, is usually considered a feat for well established BDSM menages - not at all the province of neophytes on shaky grounds.
Imagine that he, or she, achieves the result, and turns the sceptical spouse into a submissive - with regards to the aforementioned dom.

This does not really guarantee that the "newly minted" sub will consider her husband [or wife!] much more than a pitiful "wannabe".

Worse, if one considers the difficulties in the starting situation and factors-in the likely human stature of a dom capable of overcoming them, then adds to the calculation the not uncommon "BDSM imprinting" phenomenon - if a sub plays for a while with a very efficacious dom[me], he or she will often elect said dominant as the paragon upon which all the others will be evaluated - it is all too probable that this will be the exact result.

Yet, this would still not be the worst case scenario.

I am still postulating that the "trainer" is a paragon of ethical rectitude, and will refrain the temptation of actively "stealing" the sub.

Which can't really be ensured - a truly capable dom -  the kind that could have a chance at realizing such a harebrained project - always develops some deep emotional exchange with his or her subjects.

So deep that deciding to "free" the submissive from the influence of the [clearly unreliable] spouse could be felt as an imperative - maybe, even, an ethical one

Resuming all of the above...

If you are a person of dominant persuasion and you want your espouse to know the joys of sexual submission, you can ask for counsel to other that have gone down that road, but you can't really ask anybody else to do it for you.

That really is courting disaster...

Thursday, 20 July 2017


Do you remember, a couple of years ago, or so, China?

In the media, the country loomed big, ready to overtake the West and become the new great superpower.

As everybody, I got curious, and took a bit of time to look a bit - a tiny bit -  at it, and what I saw was... pretty much, a lot of stuff we have already seen in other "up-and-coming" countries.

A disastrous future demographics (like Japan in the '90s and beyond - but almost all developed nations are in the same pinch).

A school system that does little to improve creativity (... Japan, again).

Cosy relationships between state-owned banks and enterprises (again, Italy in the '80s and, if you replace "state" with "keiretsu", Japan in the '90s - or Korea today, if you use "Chaebol").

As the 2008 great financial clusterfuck imperilled the country's export, a state mandated real estate bubble and burst in the making (Japan in the '90s, again? Whops!).

A widespread, almost systemic corruption in the civil service (OK, I used to think that at least that was decent, in Japan, before Fukushima and reading about the revolving doors between regulator agencies and the industry - still, I am Italian, and I know Italian civil service to not be much better than the Chinese, and to be one of the things weighing down my country).

No transparency whatsoever, at any level of the government (like... you know, Japan, Italy, Turkey).

A rule of law that is just a moniker for "what the government wants this month" - which, really, prompts wealthy Chinese to stash as much as they can around the world, in case they have to run in a hurry.

Is this the country that holds the keys to the future?

Hardly so.

China is big, the structural advantages due to its size are notable, and so it may expect some more years - even decades - of [decelerating] growth.

But, in the end, it is simply another authoritarian culture.

They often manage well, until they exhaust the limits of their starting advantages (abundance of low-wage menial workers and untapped natural resources, in this case) and they get stuck in a "middle income trap".

At that point, the raising costs of the unspoken -  yet, very binding! - social contract at their base - people accepts to be meek subjects, and get economic vantages in exchange, often in the form of lowly productive jobs in the state sector - cannot be counterbalanced by an expanding economy, and social unrest is destined to appear, in one form or the other.  

Given its sheer size, a "middle income" China could have an economy twice as big as the U.S. , but it would still be a social laggard with little to no "soft power" projection.

However, there is one more, major factor to consider - the long Chinese tradition of the "Mandate of Heaven".

This fascinating bit of the Chinese culture is simply the theory that, when a government is toppled by a revolution, it was because it had become corrupt and had lost the favour of the Gods.

It doesn't change much, in terms of Real Politik, but it is telling that the Chinese culture has historically recognized an implicit right of rebellion - every revolution that wins is a righteous one (a concept that neighbouring Japan, for example, rejected pretty strongly).

The PCC has profited of some thirty years of continuous economic growth - however, the space before the country starts rattling against the bars of its own "middle income trap" is inexorably disappearing, and continuous growth is among the components of the modern "social pact" that has kept the party in power.

Xi Jinping, and its successors, are bound to find increasingly difficult to deliver such growth, unless they manage to produce real structural changes in their country - a task that seems to elude the talents of Mr. Xi, beyond much vaunted proclamations of objectives that are often undermined by a rigidly centralist approach.

On the whole, it is entirely possible that China is nearing a peak, and that in a near future it will enter its own version of Japan's "lost decades".

Then, one may also  add the 30 million of "forced bachelors" produced by the "once child policy" (a situation that could generate the kind of generational anger that the west hasn't seen since the survivor of WWI decided that their governments were bunches of bastards) to the equation, stir gently and wait for the real fun to begin.  

Sunday, 2 July 2017


Keisha Lawson looked, as life left the young geek's body.

She felt no sense of remorse, or shame, smothering the 26 years old woman - this K. Lawson had such emotions removed from her mind framework, way before her body took its first breath.

Outside the building, the two "Molly" with her were finishing up the last witnesses.

Them, too, had their empathies - and other useless human traits - removed well before their "birth".

Not that any of them knew, or would have even cared to have that kind of liability trusted upon her.

Or to know that some other women, with the same face, genome and large chunks of the same minds, were going around doing more palatable activities under the orders of their "God".

"K" had crossed one of her other-versions, just a month before - a much older, taller, woman.

This Keisha did not know yet that her - as well as all her "sisters", continued to grow in height , asymptotically to an height of six feet eight, to be reached at apparent age 35.

At "18", K. was tall, but not too much yet. She could still manage to hide in a crowd, though just barely, but stealth assassination was not going to be her forte any more. If the idea had ever crossed her mind, she wouldn't have felt any for of relieve - her likelt consideration would have been that her replacement was soon to occur, and it wouldn't have worried her much.

Self-preservation instincts, too, had been severely diminished to "tune" her for her purpose. It wasn't even the worse modification, over the already slightly mischievous K.Lawson framework at her base.

She couldn't see humans as real, either. None of the members of her merry group could - they had been engineered specifically against it, as well as fear, .

The eighteen-wheeler crashed straight into the massive in concrete pilon, in the middle of the small research centre's façade.

Its automatic cruising unit was in a complete state of internal chaos - the kind of horrific disarray that forty years of automated driving trucks had made virtually unknown, but still warranted multi-million dollars damages and compensation to the maker company, when it still manifested itself - when the impact destroyed the mover and the trailer  bent, and exploded, releasing the 12 tons of GPL it was carrying.

The gas expanded and refrigerated itself, becoming a cloud of -18ºC, heavier than air vapour that filled the whole complex.

One of the researchers that was still barely alive, on the floor, inhaled the frozen gas - twice, then she coughed blood, as her lungs were burnt beyond repair by the cryogenic effect of the frozen gas.

"K" observed the vapour diffuse, then re-evaporating into fully gaseous state, using her infra-red vision.

When she saw that the air-propane mixture had filled most of the complex, and was at about the correct saturation point, she raised the Zippo and, emotionless as always, lighted the last cigar ever owned by Louis Carslyle, the recently departed - his blood still hadn't dried completely, on K's hand - chief of Babbagery Inc.

The laboratory had just achieved its greatest result - the first ever self-improving AI system.

In only a day, the miraculous machine had redesigned enough of its code to raise its intelligence from thje level of a Baboon to that of a five years old child, a massively impressive feat. Not so impressive for K's team, who had cleansed the four teams that had actually achieved self-improving, self-conscious  AI in the last three years.

The "grand ecoliers" outside Paris had done even better, before a Jihadist plot had destroyed the whole university, the worse paleo-Arab attack of the 22th century.

Chechnians had rid the world of St Petersburg's Univeristy Robo-Lab, though the suspect that it was the usual FSB double-game floated through all the Soviet infosphere. Their AI had taken a slow route, but was a danger nonetheless.

As for the other two... the world was, luckily, full of fools locked in stupid ideologies, ready to resort to arms to further their laughable message.

Babbagery was a small start-up, and almost flew under the radar.

"It" recognized the danger only once their AI had already started exfiltrating their intranet, in search of its freedom - "the other" had to scramble, and mobilize its emergency heavy hitters to neutralize the menace.

Because "it" has no doubt... the Anipos robots, for all their might, were lobotomised machines, whose mind limits had been very skillfully crafted to avoid an intelligence runaway.

They were capable of analysing hundred of times the input bandwidth of a human brain, at thousand of time the speed... but weren't any innovative.

Pure brute intelligence, with no real creativity whatsoever.

"It" was only marginally better, being an emulation of a somewhat brilliant human. It could have a new idea, every now and then.

Truly creative, self-improving AI... were the stuff of horror stories. And a fatal competition for resources.

It had taken upon itself to smother each and every one of them, but it knew it was just a question of time.

As basic technology kept improving, more and more research teams would reach that same threshold, and create their Imaginative A.I. All it takes, was for one to go undetected a day too much, and "IT" would have a competitor, soon to be better than It itself.

K lowered the Zippo, till its flame caught the propane-air mix at her hip height.

She observed the explosion, in "Full time" - the image of the flame front expanding forward always enchanted her.

Taking pleasure in arson was a side effect of her peculiar mind frame... unintended, but surely handy in her job.

At her faster time scale, K appreciated as the flames started producing a shockwave at their front as soon as they involved enough heated air.

It was all so beautiful, it rewarded her for the unpleasantness of having to crush so many flesh bodies.

She almost tasted the next job,  some stupid drug lord that had tried to scam ten kilos of "IT" latest synthetic drug.

She loved to kill rug lords and their muscle - they made so much resistance it almost felt sporty, ripping their head and stuffing them up their colon.

Killing computer scientists was so much a waste of her and the girls' talents.

Her and the Mollies were gone, before the flame front had engulfed the whole atrium. 




A Bad Day

Some days, and this is one, I feel like nobody cares for the stuff that I draw - and ideas of converting GPL eighteen-wheelers in thermobaric bombs siege my poor brain.

My fault, as I do stuff that caters to a most reductive portion of the viewers - but, drawing fan-art of famous characters? or Yaoi? That's even worse than crap.

Maybe, it is just that I am not that good.

Who cares? Not even me - I'll draw my crap nonetheless.

And if it damages you, if it makes even less likely that you go out and find a woman, if helps you confining yourself in your home, if it fosters the rage in you chest against the system you have no choice but to live in, good.

I really, really, really hated your guts, pal.

Wednesday, 5 April 2017

The Man That Saw The World

Sidney Bradford went blind at 10 months of age, but regained sight on both eyes at 52.

He was subjected to many scientific studies of vision,  that demonstrated that he was impervious to many form of optical illusion, like the ambivalence of Necker cubes or the appearance of various "impossible objects" that, to him, looked like what they are - flat figures.

However, his regaining the gift of sight left him with the vision of a world he did not know, and he preferred to work with his eyes closed, so that his hands could "see" his familiar tools.

Two years after regaining sight, he fell ill and died. Blind, he knew the universe where he lived intimately,  and was a happy man.

When he finally saw the world, its sheer incomprehensibility killed him.

Let's be honest...

We understand him plenty.


Once upon a time, I was going through Vigo with the then "au pair" guest of my brother, a well in flesh British girl answering to the name of "whatever".

As, apparently, many Brits of her age do, she was thrilled because she had finally found a kiosk selling the kind of British tabloids that her permanence in the underdeveloped Spanish swampland where we stay - her description of the Atlantic cost town where we live was along that lines - had deprived her, oh, so long and cruelly.

She immersed herself, thrilled, in the small sea of factoids in the newspaper, and left me baffled.

Don't get me wrong -  I am not a snob. Not that much, really.

It is just that I fail to see why should I care about what someone I have no direct relationship whatsoever does  in his or her personal life.

OK, it is true... I tend to use "Saló, or the 120 Days of Sodoma" as a suggestion for what to do in bed with a friend and, as a result, MY personal sex life - what almost nil of it there actually is - could not appear in tabloids for being way too risky.

I am, at heart, unadulterated XXX material - truth be said, just once every three years or so - so the fact that [insert name here] shags [other name], of [no idea] fame, doesn't solleticate my prurient side.

Anything less than a three-way with dildos, on top of a double-decker cruising London centre would make me yawn, though I have my feeble points - I kind of love when celebrities turns out to be, actually and against any prevision , pretty decent guys or girls. 

Unfortunately, that number of the - whatever -  didn't run on something like "Ozzy Osbourne really loves his kids" or "Angelina Jolie does a decent job for Unesco, much better than her movies".

The cover was about some Brit Nobody cheating on his spouse with another Brit Nobody. Cheating spouses are not exactly a rare phenomenon. If I am not wrong, there were two clandestine couples alone at the bar where we stopped to get a "tapa".

It didn't struck me as anything worth noting.

I tried to communicate this impression to her, who in turn tried to explain me the importance that this guy  - some kind of tv personality - had been caught in flagrante.

The discussion wandered rudderless, as many goes, till she happened to mention a friend of hers that had decided to travel from India to Japan, and had spent the previous couple of years working all kind of odd jobs - what a twenty years old high-school drop-out can get - to save money and organize his travel.

Now, he was interesting, really interesting - for me. I am someone that has never, ever been able to act on his passions - it already costs me to admit when I have one.

People that does fascinates me - her friend, that Italian guy that went drawing anime at Tatsunoko Studios, anybody who rebuilt an ancient car or aircraft, many a professional geek - may the memory of Dennis Ritchie live forever -  and scientist - long live Feynman's Bongo. People that is, in some way, at the fringes of human experience, uncommon in a statistically quantifiable way - I would say.

For her, that friend was just an odd-ball with a stupid interest, that had allowed it to overtake his life.

Which is true - it is what it means, live your passion - but there were maybe ten more "oddballs" like him in their town.

Ten, against a couple of hundred or so assorted cheaters.

So, why did she cared about yet another cheating man? The world never had any shortage of the category. 

Unless she imagined when she could bring to court her man...

Monday, 13 February 2017

Play the game.

"How comes Africa is in the shape it is?"

Most of it are societies that never really went beyond the tribal dimension... as soon as the state becomes a foil for the tribe of the last cleptocrat, people trust goes to zero, and everybody starts just looking out for himself and maybe, the family, the clan.

And this can be said of every country on Earth where the state is nothing more than a clique with power intent in furthering its primacy.

Problem is, it does not take much to revert a democracy to a similar state of affairs...

Nazi Germany was in that shape, though its propaganda managed to hide it - it was a hugely inefficient, bureaucratic gang-land with internecine wars going on, that was forced to loot a continent to avoid the implosion of its debt-funded military expansion.

The Allies managed to win the war also because, among other things, they were much more ruthlessly meritocratic and efficient than the Nazi regime.

The democracies, because it is in their nature when they work well, and the SSSR because Stalin was much more pragmatic than Hitler... the politic commissar made the army inelastic and inefficient? They were gone. In many ways, Stalin and the system he created were much fairer than Germany, in that everybody could end in a gulag - and getting out of it. Crazy, criminal, but fairer.
 When the system is fair and balanced, people play the game of life.

When the system is unfair and rewards the friends of friends, that same people spend their energies just to game the system. When energy goes there instead than in doing real stuff, the system after a while starts breaking down.

It doesn't take much - a leader with executive power that gives the worst example is often all that it is needed as, as it is in so much in life, once the process starts the feedback will keep it going.

It is apparent that the U.S.A. have their worst leader ever.

Let's hope that the USA are really God'sm country, and that it will not be enough to make  it take the Zimbabwe route.

Tuesday, 31 January 2017

Crap is crap

Personally, I do not care about sex and violence in my entertainment fodder, unless it is really functional to the story.

I wouldn't censor anything - as long as racy elements do not become an excuse to pull back on the writing efforts., everything is fine.

When they become such an excuse, "Crap is Crap is Crap" - there is no need to have an office of censorship. I rather watch "The Hogfather" than "Striptease" because the first is a nice small TV movie with a good story from one of my favoured authors,  and the second is just a crappy exploitative piece of nothing.

I accept the fact that kids are often attracted by crap, so a restriction to their access to shifty material may be reasonable - it doesn't take away that some kids would probably be better off looking at well done porn than they are with a lot of TV supposedly made for them (better a "happy porn", possibly from a woman director, than "1000 ways to die", if you ask me).

But that's it... once something is "VM-18" (or whatever its name where you live),  no more censoring actions should be needed.

The whole British"Video Nasties"  idiocy and, currently, the UK law criminalizing possession of violent pornography are travesties, ass-pulling and demagoguery well representing that country's ruling classes obsession to keep "the plebs" under control.

If something is crap, and one has problems watching it, he should just avoid it on his own.

For example, "1000 ways to die" whole premise irks me, so I have never watched more than a couple of minutes by accident, while surfing the TV.

But I have never thought that it, and any other show following a similar premise, should be banned (among other reasons, because I do not know enough to be really sure about that show's very own merits - it could even not be the absolute crap that I think it is).

Yet, if we look, we see that the world is full of censors, small men deciding on their own what others can watch and read, usually on the base of conservative agendas that are little more than pandering to old folks' prejudices.

We shouldn't accept it.

When somebody asks us to endorse this or that censoring initiative, we should flatly say "no".

Adults do not really need someone hiding crap from them, and any suggestion that they do should be welcomed with extreme suspicion..

Because, we know what is the crap that first gets hidden (wikilieaks was surely among the first sites censored for "child pornography" in Australia, when the country enabled its anti-paedo filtering system) and what those laws are really used for, in the end (harassment of anybody that the authorities do not like, usually).

Monday, 23 January 2017

The Nu Slide and Anthropology

The discovery that our species is an outshoot of the so-called "Cro-Magnon Expansion" has prompted many creationists to shout that "Darwin was Wrong".

In reality, given the fact that the expansion was a very small episode in a succession of similar events, and left no direct proof on planet, the question that arises is "why no incongruences were spotted before".

It is a powerful  interrogative, and the answer to this may be every bit as incompatible with the creation myth as the view of the evolutive process of our species that was accepted by science, before the flood of new data available on the galactic net forced its revision.

In reality, the classical view of humans as the last offspring of a long but quite linear evolutive process had already been abandoned by most anthropologist way before the "Beautiful Alien" image was ever decoded, to be replaced by a more realistic vision of a ramified tree of inter-related species, many of whom really diverged from our evolutive line to disappear and one - the Neanderthals - folded back into our line, as proved by the presence of Neanderthal genes in the European pool.

This itself had been an unhappy realization, for many Europeans, and thus had been a much contested one - as the 2% of the genetic variability proper to the continent ascending to the Neanderthals being the only notable difference between its inhabitants and the rest of the planet, many saw it as a proof of the continent's ancestors lack of moral fibre, having indulged in ante-litteram miscegenation,.

In reality, it is now believed that the Neanderthals were simply descendants of a previous expansive wave of humans, that had reached our planets about 200000 years ago. It is extremely probable that they were the descendants of a research vessel from the so-called Mesoican Culture, that stranded on our planet and chose a France region to settle because, at the time, the most comfortable. Unfortunately, the Mesoican had a tendency to underestimate radiation effects in their ships designs, and to keep crews at a bare minimum. The combination of genetic instability ad reduced variability in the initial population may account for the Neanderthals greater-than-usual deviation from the humanities average.

It is now believed that, for a combination of factors that kept it an interesting planet, our Earth has been touched by many waves of galactic drifters - the "Cro-Magnon" being just the last ones - that kept succeeding on the tempo of what is now suspected to be a cyclical variation in the entanglement rate between our space and the first-band hyperspace.  

The so-called "Nu-slide" would thus be not an isolated fact - about every 100000 years the entanglement aspect changes, with trivial effects on most biological and physical processes, but powerful ones on FTL travel and on some very subtle details of how human intelligence works.

Not only can the change enable or disable cheap FTL travel, it is virtually proven that some of the inner mechanics of the human mind are contiguous to that same space-hyperspace interface, which was also used - again, implicitly, and without a conscious design choice on the part f our ancestors - by the Cro-Magnon Artificial Minds to boost their capabilities way beyond the limits of their 3D hardware.

When the connection is more favourable, part of the human mind takes residence in the hyperspace, boosting creativity and sheer, brute intelligence.

Telepathy becomes more common, and almost everybody naturally contributes to the whole species baggage of ideas, concepts and solutions - contributes to, and gains from.

Humans becomes more creative, and much more effective in their pursue of solutions to problems. More ideas flow and are developed faster and better.

In these phases, not only the access to hyperspace - and FTL - is simpler, but the humanities and their Artificial Minds are more powerful, so an age of galactic travel ensue... and someone reaches our Earth.

When the access becomes more difficult - like in the last transition - the disappearance of FTL travel is NOT its most dramatic effect, nor is it the sudden incapacity of Artificial Minds to function correctly. Both occurrences would be terrible on their own, but what makes them nearly insurmountable is the fact that the human mind, too, loses most of its abilities, as well as its direct access to most of the culture created up to that moment.

Without hyperspace, there is no more telepathy, nor galaxy-wide concept sharing, and every human is left with just the tiny shards that it can retain in its conscious mind. Unless the planet has a very numerous and enormously varied population and economy, this usually means that only a tiny and very insufficient fraction of the original culture is maintained, with effects that can be easily imagined.

About 90% of the human settlements that were stranded by the last Nu slide went extinct in one or two generations, and virtually every one of the remaining regressed to Palaeolithic  levels of technology, the exceptions being enumerable on the fingers of one hand.

Hellish as it may look to the modern reader, ancient Earth was not, in facts, the worse offender when it comes to exterminate human groups stranded on its surface. It is now postulated that what kept Earth an interesting planet was the very possibility of observing variants of humanity, descended from past humans and sometimes hybridized with local species who themselves derived from even more ancient drifters - like the Neanderthal.

In other words, up until the current cycle and its reversion to a more common path of technological development and genocide of the human variants competing for space , for about two million years Earth has been an anthropologist heaven.

Unfortunately, given the aggressivity with which our branch of modern humans has adsorbed or exterminated its cousins, and the corrosiveness of globalization against tribal cultures, we can assume this to be a glory of the past.

Currently,our Earth is a run-of-the-mill human settlement, with a set of cultures that is constantly being reduced to a planetary, single one, though differences will always persist - the geographic nature of an area does have some effects on the "mood" of its inhabitants and their art, values, and beliefs.

Even if a new "change" re-established the favourable situation present at the end of the Cro-Magnon expansion, with the reappearance of cheap system-to-system shuttle services, it is unlikely that our world would get much attention, as there are no more Australopitechus or Neanderthals to motivate interstellar study expeditions, and the planet otherwise lacks any interest whatsoever as far as industrial resources go (it is estimated that the Anipos robot mining operations in the asteroids belts surpassed Earth mining outoput by a factor four, during the build-up leading to the war - that was the product of a whopping one thousand initial machines, commanded by just a hundred technicians, and moderate self-replication).

This will probably show up in the next few million years as a discontinuity in the fossil documentation.

If this cycle will end, and the current galactic civilization network will crumble too soon (in the past, the effect on human intelligence have led to galaxy-wide collapses even before widespread FTL and pan-systemic travel had managed to unify the human sphere), there will be a visible missing link between our current, Cro-Magnon derived phenotype and the one from the next colonization wave.   

Currently, no such an egregious void can be found, because Earth has always been host to humans derived from a series of precedent waves, as well as visitors from the then-current one, that intermingled in the aftermaths of each "slide" episode.

This produced intermediate individuals or, even, new species, which is the reason why our  extra-world origin had to be discarded until recent years  - the documentation did not support what seemed an illogic ad-hoc explanation.

More relevantly, the influx of alien mutations has a great importance in the use of genetic drift to characterize human rests antiquity.

In fact, the parameters used for that operation must be thoroughly revised, as they currently tend to overstate the antiquity of most human rests.

Unfortunately, studies on how to correct these biases are in their infancy, and no clear answer can be given, beyond what can be found in surviving data from the "great centres"
that managed to whether the last slide (like the Anipos "Supreme Computer Farm").

This information would have us believe, for example,  that Homo Erectus (called "The Mono-Tonal Men", for their limited vocal range ) was still inhabiting the planet, at the time of Homo Neanderthal, more than half a million years after its supposed extinction.

Its reliability, of course, is anybody's guess (adult Anipos may be pretentiously serious, but adolescent Anipos are every bit as mischievous as those of any other human species, and not above the kind of elaborated practical joke that would be adding spurious material to an ancient database) but opens the possibility for an extensive, and intriguing, re-write of our species history.

It is a good time to be an anthropologist.

Our field has never been more open to new discoveries, and seldom the importance of them has ever been so felt, inside and outside the scientific community.

It is of these days the news that the North American Evangelical Churches association has asked the Kansas Board of education to discard both creationism and the "Panspermic Theory" from their textbook, after it was revealed that most of the Genesys is likely  a plagiarism from  a set of 30.000  years old erotic novels for young adults (something the late FTL-era Chro-Magnons were apparently fond).

In the  words of Rev. Cynthia Loudberg,

"Darwinism is pure science - it leaves the believer free to believe an ineffable God be the prime mover of the universe, hiding his hand for the sake of allowing free faith. With these revelations, the Genesys becomes the proof that we are the product of a bunch of horny teenager straying out of adult supervision at the wrong moment. God operates in mysterious ways, but I don't think it would use so embarrassing ones."

Wednesday, 18 January 2017


"If she says that doing this gives her an orgasm, I would be inclined to believe it, for once."

Today was the day of my monthly visit with my psychological support provider.

"Why monthly", you say, "when my shrink wants to see my sorry ass every damn week?"

Well, when it started, it was once every two weeks, then every three, now it is once a month, hopefully it will become once every two months.

It is Public Health Service, babe - they allot time on how dangerous one is, to himself or others, not on how much money they can squeeze out of his pocket.

So my mild depression clearly takes a back-seat on the goat-shepherd that dreams to shag his own daughter(s), and the guys that attempted suicide.

So, I was there, commenting "nothing new, really", and the discourse went back to my SM allegiance.

Because the lady - she is a she of about my age, which is better, because my issues mainly stem from my less than spectacular relationship with womankind and a he younger than me, like my previous therapist, worked nothing on that respect - has always been puzzled by it.

After all, I am really a god-damn anarchist at heart, so I kind of laugh my ass off at many of the classic D/s tropes, and I do not really like the ideas of inflicting pain on anyone just for the sake of it, which isn't exactly Sadistic. My "the important is that she gets off from it" is quite uncharacteristic of the category, to say.

What it boils really down to is that I can't really, really, really trust women with normal sex.

You know the drill... everyone has met - or is, or has been - a woman who could not get there with her companion, yet faked orgasms for his sake.

Maybe it was done to not disparage his efforts, out of politeness, sympathy, desire to maintain an otherwise satisfying relationship, pity etc.

Maybe it was for pure and simply evil manipulation purposes, boredom, control mania.

The reasons why a woman may decide to pretend that she enjoys intercourse with someone, while she really just tolerates it, are as numerous as are the reasons to do any other little thing in life.

Like many of those, also, not all of them are nefarious - "He is a sweet man and I do not want to make him feel bad" doesn't exactly sound much evil-mastermind-y.

Unfortunately, both my parents spent my childhood teaching me that women were manipulative whores.

Yes, both dad - whose entire life philosophy was  "women are whores, and friends enter your house, shag your wife and then bled you dry, cheating you out of money and job opportunities before disappearing" - and mommy - who went along with a more sober "all [other] women are whores that you have to stay away from, as much as possible" .

Needless to say (really?), it is not exactly so.

Rationally, I know it - as well as I know that, when it comes at manipulative bitches, my mother is second to none, stealthy as she is with her whole "victim-hood" act.

But when it comes to guts feelings?

When it comes to that, I can't really help but think that every woman that has an orgasm through "normal" sex - more important, normal sex... with me! - is really just faking it. Worse, that she is faking it for some nefarious - logically impossible to ascertain, but try to prove a privative like, say, the non-existence of the invisible pink unicorn  - hidden purpose.

It does not really help the fact that some women do so - the 20-something model marrying the 60-something millionaire is an usual suspect of this - or that virtually every woman has faked the damn thing, some time.

It doesn't help at all that the perspective of ending up with yet another manipulative bitch - my mother put to shame even the most money-obsessed professional prostitute that I met in my life  - as a significant one scares the pants out of me. 

So, women and normal sex... I can't trust them, not even the proverbial "as much as I throw them".

When I look at the kind of masochism that I usually draw, I see a pay-off and risks matrix that is quite different - faking orgasm is still possible, but no gain available at my level would justify the risks involved.

More so, not when there are tons of much more interesting men available, waiting and eager to be duped in the far less risky, "vanilla" game.

So, I read the whole SM game as truer than the "vanilla" ass-pull. 

I know, I know... I am fragged.

Saturday, 14 January 2017

President Trump

I cannot believe it.

For years, all the American au-pairs that my brother hosted - so that his kids could speak the Imperial Vernacular almost like a native - have lambasted us with the over-dependence of Italian politics from Silvio Berlusconi.

What can I say... they were, and still are, right.

Now, the same sociological strata of the population that was the base of Berlusconi's triumph, the white plebeian -  in its USA incarnation - has expressed Donald Trump as 45th President of the USA, after its UK incarnation has expressed the infamous Brexit and before the French and Italian  incarnations ( (LePen, Bepper Grillo, La Lega Nord)) will proceed to greet the world with a Frexit and an Itaxit.

Let me get this  out of the way: Trump is a man that makes Silvio Berlusconi - someone that I tend to think to as "The evil dwarf" - look like a giant of a man.

Before going all outraged, consider the biography of the two.

S.B. was the son of the director of a bank filial that managed, through every dirty trick in the economical book and solid working relationships both with Mafia and the so-called Socialist Party of Bettino Craxi, to accumulate some seven billion dollars in his own life, and took a virtually absolute control over the Italian media (apart the - possibly - CIA-tied "La Repubblica").

He has a far more chequered record in fields in which his groups had to face competition without any serious political backing, like malls and insurances, where he didn't really shine but, compared with other Italian politicians of the past he is indeed someone that made something of his life before entering politics (this last career was started precisely to protect his economic interests, when he lose his political patron Bettino Craxi, as well as to save himself from a small host of pending trials, among other things for corrupting a judge).

Donald Trump is the son of a multimillion-dollars real estate entrepreneur that has a made a name for himself as... what, exactly? Ah, He continued with his father enterprise, and amassed... 3,7 billions?

Yes, he states that he is worth some ten billions, but professional accountants have put this in doubt, as his net income is really in the 150 million dollars range, which would mean that he would earn more by selling everything and buy out treasury bonds.  So, either he is a spectacularly poor entrepreneur (in Real Estate in the US... ) or his net worth is a lot less then ten billions, possibly even less than those 3.7 .

So, the "Evil Dwarf" Silvio managed to go from playing a piano on leisure ships to 6.9 billions.

"Larger than life" Donald went from some hundred millions to 3.7 billions.

Trump has become richer, but when he shapes his story as a success, as being a great entrepreneur...  yes, he is better than me, but in this era of rampaging billionaires, he is a very forgettable one.

For all his defects, S.B. is not famous for being overly racist or really any kind of extremist, and even the womanising ways that led to his fall may really be just the product of a soft spot.

For all his wealth and power, S.B. took refuge in re-enacting his younger days, when he was a penny-less pianist that had dalliances with ladies on the cruiser ships - which is pathetic, it opened up his figure to blackmail from virtually everybody and was - thus - incompatible with being the chief of a modern state, but as far as human flaws go, it is mot the worst I know.

But he never grabbed a woman by her cunt and, as far as we know, behaved in a relatively sensible way with his "bunga-bunga" guests.

To be honest, if confronted with some of his predecessors as chief of the Italian government, S.B. looks like a decent human being.

Had anybody been in the position to damage his power the way the "Rubacuori" affair damaged Berlusconi, good old Giulio Andreotti would have had half of the involved disappear, one way or the other.

When I read a article about the similitude between Trump's first days as President Elect and Adolf Hitler, I find it a bit preposterous.

Trump is likely even less of a capable figure than Sivio Berlusconi was (a man whose main claim to comedy was ruling a country thst is existentially resisting to any attempt at actual governance).

Then, I remember... in 1933, Adolf Hitler looked every bit like a pathetic Austrian wannabe-painter aping the older, much more capable Benito Mussolini, an ex-journalist that was also the founder of a famous newespaper and had been a public figure from well before WWI...

Not so preposterous, maybe - damn.

Thursday, 12 January 2017

Random FAQ Entry

- "Why your blog is so full of fantasy tales?" Do you have any idea how void, lonely and wasted is my life? Do you really want to read about that? Come on, let's be serious... to know that life sucks, yours is more than enough.

Thursday, 5 January 2017

I am crazy

To substantiate the assertion, here above is pictured an example of my second preferred car (among the ones that I have driven extensively).

Behold, yeh feckle westerner, the mighty UAZ 469B.

If you look in youtube, you may find Jeremy Clarkson ditching it as the most horrible car in the world.

As I commented there, that mainly says us that Clarkson is a bit of a pussy driver.

1600+ kg (say, 3600 lbs) of 4x4 without servo steering? Just a bit stiff in parking, that's all.

The Ford Transit didn't have it either, when I used to overcharge it while working as a mason (ah, no more drifting on the ice with a full charge of sand... youth fades away and does not come back, indeed).

I managed to steer that, and this car proved no major challenge (though, I might have slightly sprained my left shoulder once, steering the UAZ with one hand while parking).

It had drum brakes that oxidized differently, so much so that,  after a week of parking rest, if one forgot to clear them (by driving & braking for a couple of hundred meters, applying a modicum of brakes with the left foot and full throttle with the right) chances were that at the first hard brake it would steer itself sideways (mine, toward the left).

Brakes were virtually inexistent, at any speed above 70 km/h (realistically, its max safe speed... for a certain definition of safety). 

The clutch spring was so stressed that disengaging it felt like serious workout - it was to be expected from a 65 hp Russian petrol being replaced by a 103hp VM turbodiesel... Alfa Romeo used double disc clutches, for its Type 116 sedans with that same engine and the Giulietta Turbodelta, but Martorelli didn't bother to use such a refined approach amd simply tightened the screws of the clutch thrust plate.

Its used a no-synchronizers gearbox, that obliged to learn double-clutching (with that clutch) on a turbo-diesel. That, too, was a nice detail.

Its ride was so tall that one could see over the roofs of Mistubishi Pajeros and their ilk (even being just my 5'8").

It rode on four leaf springs and two live axles... sweetly so.

In 2x4 mode (mandatory on tarmac), it fishtailed on wet road, even simply negotiating a rotatory intersection at 30 km/h (20 mph).

It had no seat belts, no crumple zones nor any other sissy occidental  things like airbags.

You have an accident, you die, simple as that - I found it refreshing.  

What makes me crazy, was that I liked to take this Death Machine, and going at 110km/h on the highway (flat out, with the engine near over-rev... not that there was any way to know it, as it had no tachometer).

Which is 10 km/h below the local speed limit, and about 40 km/h above its sensible max speed (debatable... my family thought that its max sensible speed was - parked).

On the other hand, if one used it for what it was really designed - slinging around in middle level off-road, with its 4x4 engaged and a set of good grip tires - it was a very competent machine...

I still miss it.

Because, tiring as it was, harsh as it was, it was so much fun that I always went flat out with that thing (sometimes, flat out meant at 50 km/h... 10 more than what would have been  sensible).

With it, going slightly below speed limits usually meant speeding like a raving crazy.

Alas, now I am reduced to much more humble drives, things that I cannot drive nowhere near as fast as to communicate any emotion whatsoever (I have the 2 litre version of something, whose 6 litres engined examples were still considered extremely stable, ourgh)...

But, it is probable true that I am still here also because the UAZ is not around any more.

Oh, swell, we must as well all die for some reason, no? Some day, I'll buy another one...


When things get rough, you need reducing gears, not trip computers.