Flirting with Danger - Page Eight

••• today's entry continues here below •••

Tho I hear a cautionary voice telling me that such a dismissal lies at the root of this entry on existentialism that I just so happen to be writing .. where I discounted that the singer-girl who tried to share Kierkegaard with me .. that she could not possibly be living at level that she obviously was. (I discuss this later in this entry.)

And nobody wants to make the same mistake twice. But if such a thing were true .. that you really are vibing at a level at which you seem to be .. this would say things to me .. existential things. Eyebrow-raising things. (Because Marshall is about bringing the thunder. He comes up with all kinds of great verses.)

I remember the first time I had the idea to write about Marshall .. and I dismissed the thought right away .. with something like, "I do not not much about this guy .. but I know that he is too popular." And that made me uncomfortable, for some reason.

[ Which is why I am referring to him as Marshall, right now .. instead of using his more popular name. There is actually a method to my madness .. difficult as that might be to believe.

This is also why I didnt put your name up there in the Page Title (Flirting with Danger) .. even tho you are obviously my primary target. Because you are too popular, too. I'll try not to hold that against you. ]

And the voices are saying, "This does not even make sense. Why dont you want to write about him?"

And I admitted that it didnt make sense, yet I knew that I didnt want to write about him .. with popularity being the thing that bothered me.

A little popularity I didnt mind .. but a certain level clearly made me uncomfortable.

But then the voices kept working me .. 'til I finally said, "Okay, fuck .. I'll do it." They were downright nagging me .. even fucking with me.

Even after I agreed .. they were still fucking with me. So .. this tells me, in an existential sort-of-way .. that this thing wanted very badly to be written.

Very.

I'm just sayin'.

And every time that they fuck with me like that .. I can see, later, sometimes much later, that this was a thing that I definitely needed to do.

I would normally never write stuff like this .. because I know it sounds crazy. Like I'm a nut-case. So .. I would never write this if I didnt feel that it needed to be written.

And if I didnt feel it strongly. I know you feel me, girly-girl.

I try not to sound like a nut-case .. but sometimes, you just cant help yourself.

They fuck with me over other things, too .. not just writing. Pester is the word I would use. Some things we would rather not hear.

But Marshall is the man for the first decade of the twenty-first century .. is he not? That's why I set the link to his video.

Plus, it's clear that he has a gift for words .. so I feel him there. I actually admire him. His craft. His art. What he puts into it. He lives in that superhuman world where you live.

I could feel something in me cheering him on (.. just like I feel it cheering you on). Something in me obviously likes him.

» R.e.s.p.e.c.t

I was checking out his construction and said, "Oh, this is some impressive shit this motherfucker is doing." And the closer you look, the more impressive it becomes.

I mean, he gave me the impression of somebody r.u.n.n.i.n.g. a.c.r.o.s.s the surface of a calm, still pond. It may not be walking on water, but still, you have to do impressive shit to elicit and evoke that kind of reaction.

And once I respect somebody .. honest-to-god respect them .. then, many doors open for me to that person.

This is very difficult shit he is doing (all-consuming) .. and he is making it look easy. You have have pay for that .. up front. Gifts alone dont take you that far. (Plus, he's a good dad.)

I mean, I wasnt giving him anything that he didnt already deserve. (Same with you, girly. Tho I know that I'd like to give you a lot more.)

But that's when it started.

And I remember so badly wanting to change the title of that entry. That was just my placeholder-title, my working-title. Because my titles dont usually come until later.

But a title never came. And I was looking very hard for a new title .. for a more descriptive title. For a couple of months I was looking, feeling certain that something cool would come.

I remember how weird it felt .. that I could not get clear on a new title. And I waited and waited. Until it was finally time to move on.

It bothered me .. because it seemed so easy to come up with a better title. But the artist must go with the thing that feels right to them. (Or you are a miserable fuck.)

I dont know what this means. Maybe you do. I just do what I need to do. (We all do.)

And that's probably all I should say right now .. because I have thoughts here. Talk about a rabbit hole.

» Going Beyond the Possible with the Crazy Voices

Because this has become something of a thing for me. I said to myself (pacing) "It is just not possible that this girl can be resonating with me on that deep of a level." 

[ Bothering is not the right word here, but you feel me when I say that it was bothering me. ]

And the voice said, "We have long ago left the realm of the possible. Time to get with the program." ( What kind of voice says shit like this? Sounds a little crazy to me. )

» Two-and-a-Half Years to the Day

But (.. I just noticed this now) .. in that entry where I talk about Marshall .. that entry was titled » Last Days of Summer .. whilst this entry is derived from an entry titled » Last Day of Winter (the entry made on March 19, 2016).

In that entry [ Last Days of Summer ] I was writing about something completely different .. and then I was writing about Marshall. Whereas, in this entry I was writing about something completely different [ Existentialism ] .. and then I was writing about you.

I did the calendar math .. this is two-and-a-half years apart. Exactly. To the day.

Do you find this at all curious? I dont think that I have ever named any other entries » "Last Day of ..." Do you feel that these entries are somehow related? And if so .. how?

There is kind of an opposite, or mirror-image thing going on. The end-of-summer becomes the end-of-winter. Fall becomes spring. The male singer-songwriter becomes a female singer-songwriter. Should I continue?

One of the things that most speaks to me about you and him and people like you .. is the idea of creativity-unlimited.

See .. more than just sexual, erotic, lusty cravings that you trigger in me .. is the parallels that people like you and Marshall (and others) activate in me.

And I will not venture very far down this corridor .. because then I would sound like a nut-case. But intuitively, I cannot help but feel that you feel me.

So, I just want to drop this little marker here .. as something I may pursue in the future. Which is the unlimitedness of the creative expression of the creative person in the digital world today.

And what this means .. in a variety of categories. (I'm thinking of James Joyce right now, Mr. Avant-Garde writer.) But I can feel myself exploring this unlimitedness myself.

[ Love-making is the ultimate form of creative expression. Or, at least, it can be. Make = creative. Love = the ultimate. ]

Being singer-songerwriters .. you really have access to this creativity. So I am naturally interested in what you are doing with it.

And yes, it is more than simply touching yourself when you sing about passionate things. Which itself represents an admirable degree of freedom of creative expression .. for a woman. Compared with not so very long ago. (So, good for you, girly.)

Large numbers of factors come into play in pushing these creative boundaries .. that I was never aware of .. until I actually began to push them myself.

You have to get out into these things .. in order to understand what I am talking about. And obviously you and he do indeed get out into them. So I know that you know what I am talking about.

And there is a voice somewhere back there saying to me, "Dude, what the fuck are you talking about here?"

So, these are kinda things that you only really 'get' when you get out into them. (By doing them. By pushing these creative boundaries. By exploring them.)

Many of these factors are cultural, and we all live, to a large degree, in the same (national) culture.

The culture is very much about the money, and its elevation to a point of idol worship and beyond. And I wish that this were just rhetorical hyperbole, but unfortunately it's not.

Which is somewhat ironic, because the culture is very much about defining right and wrong. But beyond the issues of right and wrong as defined by a money-worshipping culture .. I am more interested in » what is possible .. with today's technology.

Which is why I get so excited whenever I can say, "Oh, this is some shit I have never seen before."

And I can see that you fuckers do indeed get out into these creative-boundary-pushing things that I am talking about here .. which is probably why I am feeling you so much. (Tho no, I am not really sure.) More than any others, perhaps. (Tarantino is not far from you.)

We all explore our own areas, our own domains, our own universes. But sometimes, if you get far enough out there .. you run into fewer and fewer people, no? (I can feel myself being intentionally vague here.)

In this entry I have been exploring the concept, the notion of danger. Which is something that I have plenty of first-hand experience with.

As a writer, it is easy to see how words encapsulate ideas. And everybody knows that ideas are dangerous. And here I am pretty sure that I will be exploring my own little universe.

Because I had a radical, dangerous idea .. that we (our nation) should not be locking up so many people for completely insignificant bullshit .. while failing to address people who do genuinely fucked up and stupid shit that ruins the lives of so many others.

That's my radical, dangerous idea .. that I have been putting into words .. in various forms and contexts. (Robert Rubin is feeling me.)

My boss is none-too-happy about this shit. I am just trying to save these fuckers a serious ass whupping. (I doubt they even appreciate it.) You can lead a horse to water...

Nobody will say that I didnt try to warn them. (I could kiss Krugman, sometimes.)

Actually, the phrase none-too-happy does not do justice to this unhappiness. If I may take interpretive liberties .. I would say he is beside himself.

I can feel something in me trying to tell him to chill, but he seems to think the progress is intolerably slow. I am definitely feeling that.

What do you think the phrase 'torch time' means? I have never heard that phrase before. Have you?

I think my point here .. is that you need to pick up the pace. And you know who you are.

Have a nice day, Mr. You.

» He Who Refuses .. Let Him Refuse

Hopefully, I dont need to explain to you why systemic injustice in a nation is a bad thing.

Because those days are gone forever.

Particularly when that injustice is targeted against the poor and the helpless.

Because my boss has a problem with people who fuck over the poor and the helpless.

A serious problem.

This might be a good place to ask .. just how important is money to me?

He who refuses .. let him refuse. That's what I always say.

Welcome to the new age .. where we have a new algorithm.

Because the old one sucked so bad.

I call it the George Bush algorithm. What a piece of shit that thing was. Incompetence personified. It stank to high heaven.

I would be lying if I said that both these entries didnt feel as tho I needed to write them .. or that they both werent important (for me) to write.

More than any other entries, perhaps, these two seemed to write themselves. I call this 'broken faucet' writing .. where you cant seem to turn it off.

What could it possibly mean? I have no idea.

Perhaps someday I'll be able to see things more clearly. Perhaps my current perspective somehow limits my ability to see the obvious.

Anyway .. I love that breathy stuff. Cant get enough. The soul behind the voice.

How You Want It » A little Bit Dangerous

I couldnt help but notice, again, in this song, too, your use of the term » dangerous .. as in the thing that you want a little bit of .. as the thing that my existentialist brothers and sisters there in the Parisian underground jazz cafes following the war considered a good thing.

You hear stories, when you are caught up in these types of things .. about how the excitement of such an affair is the thing that does it for you. But I never liked that part of it. I won't say that I hated it .. but I wasnt far from it (from hating it).

Now, I will admit that the demands for secrecy and the realization of the huge consequences threatening your every moment of every day (.. people have been killed for less .. a lot less) .. do indeed drive you closer together, and by their very nature, create an environment conducive to intimacy.

» Tell Me You Understand the Seriousness of this Thing

I remember saying to her, about the time that the situation was becoming impossible, "Do you know what we're doing? Tell me you know what we're doing. I dont do things like this. Tell me you understand the seriousness of this thing."

She did not hesitate. Not at all. And she told me. And yes, she understood. That's when I could see that she actually understood better than I did.

So my respect for her, and my admiration of her, only continued to grow. Because she was hair-raisingly and brutally honest .. in an awesome sort of way. In a mind-blowing sort of way.

And she would tell me how she felt and I would think, "That's exactly how I feel. How can this be possible?"

Every time we looked for an easy way out .. we only got in deeper.

» She was Smart in Ways that I was Not

But we made a good team .. because she possessed skills that I lacked, and vice versa. (She was very smart in ways that I was not.)

» I Did Not Enjoy that Aspect

But I did not enjoy that aspect of it. I mean, I am drinking Sleepytime herb tea for breakfast .. because I am freaking out .. from the moment I wake.

There is a verse of scripture in Corinthians that says God will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able to endure. I am not going to say that this thing was from God .. but it was clearly beyond my ability to resist.

There is another verse that says » "Who resists His will?" The implication here is that you cannot resist the will of God .. that it is downright irresistible. And I obviously found her irresistible.

It may be worth mentioning here, while I am already quoting scripture .. that John says » God is love. He doesnt say that God has love .. rather, he says that God *is* love. He actually says it twice .. in the same chapter. Food for thought, perhaps.

» I Would Just Keep Doing What I Was Doing

I was attending a church during the time when all this stuff started happening. I would be sitting there on Sunday morning (.. in the back, of course) hearing the pastor preach his message and be thinking of a million things at once ..

.. trying to figure out what was going on with me. Searching for any little insight. Any little sliver of understanding.

People usually lined up after the service to talk with him. But I noticed that he was available after one service, so I went up there .. and I told him about this thing.

Not the thing you are thinking of, but this other thing .. that was related to the thing. Very closely related. And I asked him about this thing and what he thought. About the related thing that I am not going to tell you about.

But, it doesnt really matter. Because (as God is my witness) pastor says to me » "Well, I would just keep doing what I was doing." (I can only imagine the look on my face.)

» Whatever You're Doing, Keep It Up

Oh, look at this .. the trailer for Death Wish, starring Bruce Willis. At the end, this shrink tells him, "Well, whatever you're doing .. keep it up."

See, I realize that there is a humorous aspect to this thing .. which is not really very funny at all.

I remember afterwards, sitting in my car for a minute before starting the engine and thinking, "You gotta be kidding me .. just when I thought things couldnt possibly get any weirder."'

That thing is trending like crazy. I'm not the only one who's digging it. Nice soundtrack.

I have some shrink stories myself.

» A Very Humbling Thing

It was a very humbling thing .. because I was a little holier-than-thou before this. Maybe even more than a little.

I am not going to say that this thing was from God .. but I can tell you .. in no uncertain terms .. that it definitely FELT LIKE something divine. And I could go into quantum-level detail about exactly what I mean here. But I won't.

Notice, for example, the last sentence in second paragraph of this column .. where it says » It's like falling in love: you become a better person.

Because I was definitely in love .. in a big way. In an overwhelming, freak-you-out sort-of-way.

And I had definitely become a more understanding and a more compassionate person as a result. I was no longer judgmental of the shortcomings of others. Not hardly.

I'm sure that Kenny Starr knows exactly what I am talking about here.

» Go Fuck Yourself, Ken Starr, You Hypocrite

These hypocritical fuckers like Ken Starr love to hold others to very high levels of conduct. And they love to condemn people for years on end who they feel do not measure up.

While, for themselves, they make all kinds of excuses for why their character doesnt measure up to the standards that they have set for others.

Go fuck yourself, Kenny. You and that sorry-ass horse you rode in on. You hypocritcal, self-righteous, pussy-ass motherfucker ..

.. who likes to hold others to lofty standards of conduct, yet make endless excuses for yourself.

Grow some cojones. When are you going to start being a real man?

You should not feel alone here, Kenny .. because there are plenty of other hypocritcal fuckers just like you. (I used to be one myself, so I know.)

And where is the full report?

Here is a little something for you to take with you .. a doggie bag, compliments of Linda. She sends her love.

You are going to have to have to make your own redemption this time. I wish you the best.

You know about redemption .. dont you?

What about mercy? Do you know about that? Let's hope .. for your sake.

Here's something you might want to take a look at, Ken. Notice any similarities?

» Ken Starr is Quick to Accuse and Eager to Stone the Adulterous Person

Have you ever read the story of the adulterous woman in John's gospel? Your Wikipedia page says that your dad was a Church-of-Christ minister .. so I'm guessing that you have.

The gist of this story is how people are quick to point out and make a big deal about the shortcomings of others. And how they seem so eager to punish others severely for their wrongs.

Yet, for themselves, they seem oblivious to their own shortcomings. And even when God incarnate Himself points this out .. they are still slow to drop their stones.

See, Ken .. this is the thing right here that turns off so many people to Christianity.

Hypocritical fuckers like you, Ken Starr, do not apply the scriptures to themselves. Rather they use the scriptures as a stone to cast at others. For themselves, they make an endless string of excuses for why they themselves do not measure up.

I've said it before, but it bears repeating: go fuck yourself, Ken Starr .. you hypocritical piece-of-shit .. who is quick to cast stones at others while making an endless series of excuses for your own flaws.

Say hi to Tim Murphy for me. I'm sure that you two are best friends. You have similarly hypocritical values. Your values apply only to others .. not yourselves.

» Physician, Heal Thyself

What about the story in Luke's gospel .. where Jesus says (v23) to his hometown folks » "No doubt you will quote this proverb to me, 'Physician, heal thyself'." I am sure that you must be familiar with this story, Ken.

The Wikipedia entry for this phrase says » The moral of the proverb is counsel to attend to one's own defects rather than criticizing defects in others, a sentiment also expressed in the discourse on judgmentalism.

You should probably go back and reread these sections, Ken .. because I think that you somehow failed to learn this lesson .. despite your dad being a minister.

» Best Friends with Newt

I bet that you are best friends with Newt, who actively pursued impeachment proceedings against Bill Clinton based on moral failings while secretly having a years-long affair with congressional staffer Callista Bisek, who is more than two decades younger than himself and now his wife.

You guys probably vacation together. Your values obviously resonate. You probably consider him a great man. A pillar of conservatism .. someone who you look up to. A role model.

And say hi to your friend Roy Moore for me.

< end Ken Starr side-bar >

I was definitely feeling them. I understood them. Whereas I once was blind .. now I saw. And I saw clearly. Very clearly.

I have many take-aways from these lessons that I learned during this period. Probably the most obvious was » but for the grace of God...

» Perhaps Now You Can See Why that Sentence Troubled Me So

But perhaps, now you can see a little better why that sentence from the author .. about how the existentialists viewed everything dangerous (and provocative) as good .. perhaps you can see now how and why this sentence troubled me so.

Because I so did not enjoy the relentless specter of danger and calamity and disaster and everything that goes along with being discovered in such a thing .. as I was fully engaged in. (Over my head.) Not at all.

I am not going to say that God uses girls like you to recalibrate my ass .. but it certainly f.e.e.l.s that way.

Sometimes I can hear pastor saying to me, "You should apologize to this girl .. for having such thoughts about her. The things you want to do to her .. unspeakable."

To which I respond » "Dude, I dont even know girls .. but even I know .. that this is not what she wants to hear."

» Rockin' All Up in the Club

This song very much reminded me of being up in the club. I often went to dance clubs with a large group of friends. And normally with a girl. But if I went without a girl .. I am kinda cautious in this type of environment. Cuz I am little scared of girls.

I could go into great detail .. but sometimes girls respond to me in ways that I do not understand. That does not make sense to me. (At all.)

And if I went with guy-friends .. normally they would say to me .. when we enter the club, "Which girl do you want? You can have any girl in here that you want."

At first, I thought they were joking. But, no .. they were not joking.

And I would say things like, "That one dancing there with her girlfriend in the middle of the floor .. wearing that pink outfit."

And they would go over there and talk to this girl.

You cant hear shit, because the music is so loud. But you can see them react.

» Gay Guys & Hot Chicks

Gay guys are the best at this .. because they really know how to talk to girls.

They go right up to beautiful, sexy women and talk to them like they are sisters .. like they've known them since they were kids.

Sometimes gay guys would say things like, "I'm gonna bring one of these girls back to the house for you. Which one do you like?"

And I would say, "No, dont do that." (But they would do it anyway.)

But they would always pick the kind-of-slutty ones. Hot but slutty. Cuz I think they wanted in on the action.

He said, "I showed it to her and I told her that, if she is extra special nice to you, I would let her touch it. So I know she's motivated to be nice to you."

I said, "I am not doing this." But they could always get somebody else. That was never a problem.

» The Bizarre 2 AM Glass of Orange Juice

One time, it was about 2 in the morning. And I got up to go get a glass of OJ, cuz I was thirsty.

And this other guy that I lived with .. he had a gigantic horse-cock. And I wake out of a dead-sound sleep .. to go get a glass of OJ ..

.. and these two horse-cock guys (one black, one white) are killing this poor girl. On the couch in the living room. Which I have to walk by on my way to the kitchen.

And she was a hottie, yes. Slutty, but hot. She was kneeling on the floor beside the couch.

And the black dude is behind her. And my roommate is lying on the couch. And the black dude (who is gay, but who does not live with us, but visits frequently, cuz everybody liked him and wanted to be his friend) ..

.. he says to the girl, "Suck his dick! Suck his dick and I'll fuck you hard!"

Perhaps it was just because I had woke from a sound sleep .. but this just seemed a little too weird for me. In my current condition.

» Come Get Some of This

And that black dude, when he looks up and sees me walk by, he calls out my name, an affectionate version of my name that he and only he called me, because we used to live together. And he says, "Come get some of this."

I did not even have it in me to respond. I poured myself a glass of OJ and headed back to my room.

On the way back, I again found this sight somewhat bizarre. I was still mostly in dreamland at this point.

And I said to them, as I passed by, "We have to leave for work in three hours, you know." (We were putting in 16-hour days .. with no rest for the weary.)

I dont think they even heard me. They were killing this poor girl.

I was out cold in about two nanoseconds.

The neighbor's wife, who lived right next door to us .. she was after my horse-cock roommate (a Long Island boy). He was having major trouble with her. She had obviously lost her mind.

(That's a whole nuther story there. But she did lots of nice things for us, because she liked him. We ate a lot of yummy casseroles. She was a good cook.)

» Nothing But Anal

I wont even tell you about the hottie who lived down the street, who wanted nothing-but-anal from my horse-cock house-mate. (Another eyebrow-raising story there.)

I'll never forget the genuinely perplexed look on his face when he said, "What I am supposed to do? That's all she wants. And she really likes it. She goes crazy."

We were 19 or 20 at this point. So we were just beginning to really start to figure out life.

And it wasnt always very clear to us what was going on. Momma never told us about stuff like this. Nothing but anal? What do we do?

Uh, I seem to have gotten a little carried away there with a tangent or two. Anyway, I was talking about how a certain guy-friend would go get girls for me at the clubs.

A few minutes later, he would bring back this girl to me .. and introduce us .. and actually know quite a bit about her. And then he would go off and find someone for himself.

» So Not Me

I am so not like this. But these guys know I'm not .. because they know me. I wouldnt say I'm shy .. just cautious. ( Unlike my son. )

And as he walked away, these girls would say things like, "Is he always like that?" And I would say, "Pretty much."

And sometimes they would say things like, "He obviously thinks very highly of you."

It wasnt until after Julie Allen that I really started going up to girls and introducing myself .. and even with pretty girls, who I found attractive. Which I did because it was difficult for me. It took me out of my comfort zone. (I am talking about at the coffee shop here.)

And sometimes I would start talking to them and find that I really liked them .. and then I was in trouble.

But the super-smoking hot ones .. who look like you .. I would never talk to them.

I could feel my blood boiling.

I am talking about industrial-strength hotties .. the sexuality flaring off of them.

Her pheromones are shouting, "I am ready to make a baby right now and my skin has never felt softer."

Plus, they were too young for me, anyway.

But they would catch my eye. You know. (They are so bold.)

I mean, I have never had girls make me look away like that before. They did not even blink.

End of page 8. The flirting and the danger both continue here » Flirting with Danger - Page Nine.

I feel compelled to warn you .. that the next page gets pretty steamy. You probably shouldnt read on any further. You should quit right here. (Dont say that you werent warned.)

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