Monday, 8 February 2016

Creeping illiteracy

Words and I definitely don't seem to be on the same wavelength at the moment. Not only am I struggling to come up with much of substance to say here - and even more so in Nephelokokkygia - but my performance on the word games I fritter my time away with all too often is at rock bottom, too. There used to be a 'meme', although it's quite a while since I've heard it, about how many brain cells are supposedly killed off by each alcoholic drink you consume. Maybe I've passed the tipping point, and I'm now on the way to irrevocable mental disintegration. Oh well. Shit happens.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Sunday, 7 February 2016

The cyclical nature of history

Some time in the late 'noughties', I read, at my then workplace in Cornwall, on one of the odd occasions when I had anything resembling a usable signal on my mobile broadband there, a review (a customer-submitted review on Amazon's US website) of a book. A review that annoyed me enough that I wanted to write my own take on a loving relationship between a man and a boy, to counter the assertion of the reviewer that such a relationship was always abusive, that love, real love was never a possibility, the man's only motivation being sexual gratification. The story that I began to write, in pencil in an exercise book - it predates my entry into Blogland by at least 18 months - has never been published, and maybe never will, but others along the same lines, most notably Alexandrine, have documented my belief that such relationships, not necessailiy sexual, can exist, with consent and mutuality, and without any hint of 'abuse', even if I've never been lucky enough to find such a connection myself. And, for whatever reason, I searched the book on Google again earlier this evening, finding another review barely differing from the earlier one, accusing the (obviously fictional) main character of taking advantage of a vulnerable boy simply for his own pleasure, once more implying that to be the only reason for a man to engage with a boy. I've been struggling to find the motivation to write anything substantive in my blog of late. The reiteration of a point of view I fundamentally disagree with has rather renewed my incentive to continue being 'a voice in the wilderness', saying things that most probably find anathema, but that, as far as I'm concerned, need to be said. We, boylovers, are not rapists. The clue's in the middle syllable. You know. Love. It's not rocket science.
(The reviewed book, in case anyone's interested, is Loving Sander by Joseph Geraci. I love it. But I would, wouldn't I?)

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Thursday, 4 February 2016

A boy. And a boy

One on the tube to the 'Ultima Thule' end of the line, on the way from work to my local, 14-ish, on his own (shock, horror!), not wildly cute, but no gargoyle, either, intermittently laughing at whatever it was he was watching on his phone in an utterly endearing way. The chance to have taken him home would've been a dream come true, but they never do come true, of course. And now, in the pub, Daniel, in social rather than work mode. He must be nearer to 19 than 18 now, given the length of time he's been serving behind the bar when he is working, but he could still pass for 16, still as much boy as young man, to my eyes, anyway. Another hopeless daydream. But a legal one, if nothing else.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

One of the more unusual musical links

Planet Rock has recently played My God is the Sun by Queens of the Stone Age. And my immediate reaction was to associate the song with illness. My own rather serious illness in spring 2013. I checked the release date online, and it did indeed come out in the UK in early April of that year, just as my health was really on a downward spiral, leading to me first being more or less 'housebound' in my accommodation in 'domicile-ville', before I finally ended up in hospital a month or so later. The song, being new at the time, was played pretty regularly on Planet Rock, and being indoors most of the time, as I was, I had the radio on for much of the day. I'm sure there were other songs that were played as much, or even more, during that period, but, for whatever reason, this one is inextricably linked with what was a very difficult time in my life. The power of music, not for the first time - and probably not the last, either.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Tuesday, 2 February 2016

Ummm....don't plan to be househunting there

I found a story on the BBC News website about a survey into levels of 'satisfaction with life' in the UK. The immediate hook was that I apparently fall into the demographic group least likely to be happy - males aged 45-59 - and I can't say I disagree with that, but there was also a link to a questionnaire which purported to illustrate which area of the country best matches your personality traits. It seems that I should be living in rural Lincolnshire. Presumably on the basis that I wouldn't actually meet any people there!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Monday, 1 February 2016

8.3333333% of the year gone already

The past two or three years seem to have been characterised by how quickly they've passed, and it looks like 2016 is going to follow the trend - it's February already! I'm loath to tempt fate, but the winter in this part of the world, certainly in terms of anything cold, is still conspicuous by its absence, which suits me absolutely fine. Get through this month, and spring will almost be here. Not, in a way, that the climate will make much difference to my February - it looks like I'm going to be spending most of it working. Even K's 18th, two weeks today, is going to be difficult for me to get involved with, the way things are shaping up. At least she understands that I'm doing it for her and her education. Because who else is there?

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Saturday, 30 January 2016

Dehumanisation

Those who want to discriminate against or even persecute a particular disfavoured 'outgroup' have a long history of using propaganda, often (maybe even usually) comprised of outright lies, to convince 'the masses' that such discrimination/persecution is not only justifiable, but a worthy response to a supposed 'problem'. The Nazi regime's persecution of Jewish people is, of course, the best-known example from modern history, but it is far from unique. Enter today's theocratic fascists. Some might argue that Shoebat's evidence-free claims are so obviously and ridiculously false that no-one could take them seriously, but, as one of the commenters wrote, some people always will, and use them to justify (to themselves, if to no-one else) using violence to 'deal with' the 'problem'. And if that scenario is frightening enough for gay men in general, it's all the more so for those of us who actually are attracted to boys, but have no more intention of raping and murdering anyone than their so-called 'normal' counterparts. I've written before about how I believe 'thoughtcrime', i.e. admitting an attraction, even without the least intention of acting upon it, could be enough for the likes of me to end up spending the rest of our lives in jail, or even being summarily executed (by self-appointed 'vigilantes', if not by legal authority). If enough self-interested politicos jump on the 'moral panic' bandwagon, such criminilisation of attraction could come about very rapidly. Who, after all, is ever going to utter a single word in defence of 'paedos', even celibate ones?

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B