I'm Having What Counts As A Deep Thought For Me

So, spanking as a fetish/paraphilia--I just don't get it.

Look, I'm not judging you for what you like. Paddle away, mofos. Why, some of my best friends are perverted ass slappers.

It's just something I cannot empathize with. I can understand that it produces a good feeling for you, but I can't for the life of me fathom how.

See, I've gotten my ass beat*, and it tweren't fun. There were lots of feelings involved in The Beatings*, but none of it was sexy. Not Never Not Once. You know what emotion I do remember?

Pain and fear, motherfucker. With a healthy dollop of anger and humiliation.

Anyways, that is the very long winded way of me saying that I never got how people who liked to be spanked could translate pain into pleasure. I know that masochists exist, but to have someone actually take true physical pleasure from being smacked in the behind? No, man. Just no.

I mean, there probably are a small percentage of true masochists who have some different wiring than the average h. sapiens.  So for them, pain really does equal pleasure. But most of that shit has got to be psychological satisfaction. From whence I reiterate my party's consistent platform: How You Gonna Tell Me Getting Your Redass On Is FeelGoodSexyTimes?

But today, for the first time, it occurred to be that maybe it wasn't the pain; maybe people craved the mental anguish, the penance, the guilt, etc.

What if some people want to be humiliated because they find it arousing?

And you know what? In the course of typing this post I can tell you that while I can, embarassingly, relate to this secondary theory more than the first, it remains that I cannot understand wanting to feel shame. To feel embarassed. Isn't that, like, the complete opposite of sexy?

Human beings sure are weird. And I just proved it by the amount of time I spent thinking about such a silly subject. Perhaps I need to expand my intellectual borders. Perhaps I'll annex Vienna.

* This is the obligatory disclaimer where i have to say that my parents didn't really beat me (because i don't even KNOW what a real beating feels like) and i have to apologize to my mom who says this makes her sound like a terrible parent and that makes her sad (and when she gets sad she beats my ass scolds me lovingly)

secret title

perhaps the worst thing of all, i think,
is hope.

there is a white buzzing noise
in the monotony of suffering
which kindly soothes you or sweetly drives you to madness
(but it is there
that morbid peace
in the certainty of infinity)

but if you break that lulling, maddening sameness
if the record needle of the universe skips
that's the place where hearts can die
and souls can crumble

O, Persephone
tantalizing saviour
how did you hide such hell so well, so deep
in the innocent guise of a favor?

"That's the hell of it," he grins, his moustache grinning with him
Tips his hat and waltzes away, nicking a purse as he goes
Because he knows
he knows
he knows down to his toes

It's the little things that kill ya.

(pontius pilate's lament)