Thursday, August 24, 2017

Zzzzzt Zzzzzt

I read this article a while back, and I have re-read it repeatedly and shared it with more than a few people.  And I felt the need to read it AGAIN today, so I guess I'll share it here for you too. :) 

In 1954, James Olds and Peter Milner of McGill University discovered that the septal region is the feel-good center of the brain. Electrical stimulation of it produces sensations of intense pleasure and sexual arousal. They demonstrated their discovery by inserting wires into a rat's brain and then showing that when the rat figured out it could self-stimulate itself by pressing a lever, it would maniacally bang on that lever up to two-thousand times an hour.

In 1970, Robert Heath of Tulane University dreamed up a far more novel application of Olds and Milner's discovery. Heath decided to test whether repeated stimulation of the septal region could transform a homosexual man into a heterosexual.

Heath referred to his homosexual subject as patient B-19. He inserted Teflon-insulated electrodes into the septal region of B-19's brain and then gave B-19 carefully controlled amounts of stimulation in experimental sessions. Soon the young man was reporting increased stirrings of sexual motivation. Heath then rigged up a device to allow B-19 to self-stimulate himself. It was like letting a chocoholic loose in a candy shop. B-19 quickly became obsessed with the pleasure button. In one three-hour session he pressed it 1500 times until, as Heath noted, "he was experiencing an almost overwhelming euphoria and elation and had to be disconnected."

By this stage of the experiment B-19's libido was so jacked up that Heath decided to proceed with the final stage in which B-19 would be introduced to a sexually-willing female partner. With permission from the state attorney general, Heath arranged for a twenty-one-year-old female prostitute to visit the lab, and he placed her in a room with B-19. For an hour B-19 did nothing, but then the prostitute took the initiative and a successful sexual encounter between the two occurred. Heath considered this a positive result.

Little is known of B-19's later fate. Heath reported that the young man drifted back into a life of homosexual prostitution, but that he also had an affair with a married woman. Heath optimistically decided that this showed the treatment was at least partially successful. However, Heath never did try to convert any more homosexuals. 

Beyond the obvious horror of this experiment, it all makes me think about social media, the love/need for likes, the love/need for attention, validation, affirmation, comments, direct messages, engagement, etc.  And how if it brings pleasure, we need MORE.  More.  More.  More!  Zzzzzt.  Zzzzzt.  I'm also reading (well, listening to the audio book) The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business by Charles Duhigg, which I am finding both interesting and irritating.  I like learning about the human condition, why we are they way we are and why we do what we do, but it is also frustrating and irritating to learn how PREDICTABLE and formulaic we can be, and what we need to be happy and to derive pleasure.  Humph. 

Thursday, August 17, 2017

Corey Arnold

Sometimes it's nice to see how the other half lives and to scurry away from the previous blog post!  Below you will find pretty freaking fab photos by Corey Arnold, an artist/photographer/fisherman based in Portland, Oregon.  Love them!

About the artist:

Corey Arnold is a fine art photographer based in Portland, Oregon. His work examines man’s relationship with the natural world including animals, food production, and environmental issues. Since 2002, he has photographed his life at sea working as a Bering Sea Crab fisherman and documented his summers captaining a sockeye salmon fishing boat in Alaska. In the off-season he continues to explore the world’s commercial fisheries in an ongoing project entitled Fish-Work.

His photographs have been exhibited worldwide and published in Harpers, The New Yorker, New York Times LENS, Art Ltd, Rolling Stone, Time, Outside, National Geographic, Mare and The Paris Review, among others. Corey has published two books of photography by Nazraeli Press including Fish-Work: The Bering Sea, and Fishing with My Dad.

This post is reminding me that I have never gone fishing (literally speaking).  I think I'll pass on this particular style of fishing, but it would be fun to try the more lazy/leisurely/dockside type of fishing.  Soon -- I'm on some weird kick lately to get out and about and see new people, places and things.  You know...get more out of life.  Why not.  :)

Monday, August 14, 2017

Fuck It

Helen Mirren in Caligula

A while back I heard that stories that resonate the most with audiences are those in which the teller exposes his/her own shame or humiliation.  

This is probably my most shameful and humiliating story to date, but whatever.  It is also the most hilarious/horrifying dating story that I've had in a while, and I think I have an audience of ONE at this point, so FUCK IT, I'm going to go ahead and tell it. 

So, I'm single.  The on-line dating thing is...well, I don't know how to describe it.  It can be really fun.  Really entertaining.  And sometimes really disappointing.

Mostly I get interest from dudes in their 20s and 30s that like the chubtastic/curvy ladies.  Uh, I'm 47.  That isn't gonna fly, as I don't just want sex, and that is pretty much all they want.  I'll admit that more than one has tempted me.  I have almost almost almost taken up one or two on their offers, but in the end I refrained.

Lately most of those in my age group that are interested in me just haven't seem quite right -- either not enough personality, not interesting enough, or something was either a bit off or way off.  But there was one dude recently that really seemed like a good possibility.  Right age, local, tall enough, pretty cute, and he had one of the best dating profiles that I have ever read -- he put effort into it and didn't just phone it in, and it wasn't just a bunch of typical boring, cliche crap.  AND he was interested in me.  Winner!!!  So we texted back and forth and that was great.  And we talked on the phone and he had me laughing so hard (I'm a sucker for any dude that is fun, funny and good in bed, and he was already rocking it in two out of three categories).  We talked and talked one Saturday afternoon, and he had one of the best stories that I have ever heard, and finally he asked if I wanted to meet that night.  I said YES.  He was about an hour's drive away, and it was already about 8:30 at night.  It's always tough to figure out where to meet -- bars are too noisy, it was too late for dinner, a park late at night seemed like a horrible idea, etc.  So I was in FUCK IT MODE (always problematic for me.  ALWAYS.  Foreshadowing!!!!), and I said, "You can just come to my place.  If you try anything, I'll fucking kill you."  This made him laugh, but I think he took me seriously.

So about an hour later I heard him pull up on his motorcycle (it's like I have dog-ears -- I hear it all).  He sent me a text and asked if I wanted to step outside, check him out, check out his bike, and make sure I was comfortable with him.  I went outside.  He pretty much looked like his pics (win), but he was NOT 5'11", but I didn't call him out on that.  I thought his bike was not at all cool -- totally meh -- but whatever.  So he seemed ok with me/my appearance, which was a relief.  And we went inside.  And, the conversation was good.  And, well, I didn't plan for anything to happen (maybe I did subconsciously????), but he was so cute, so funny, and a little touching and a little kissing felt so good, and of course we ended up in bed.  And we didn't use a condom, as neither of us had one on hand.  I know, I know.  But I'm human.  And idiotic.  And I just wasn't thinking clearly.  At all!!!  Go ahead and judge me.  Sigh. 

The sex was pretty, pretty good.  Ok, it was really good.  Mmmmmmhmmmmm.  And both parties seemed very happy.  But about 4 seconds after it was over he said: "You'd be great in a threesome! I have some lesbian friends that would LOVE you.  And I have a standing invitation to an orgy that is held once a month.  Are you game????"

OMFG.  !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Well my mind exploded as I heard all of this -- I just had sex without a condom with a dude that GOES TO MOTHERFUCKING ORGIES.  

Needless to say, my next stop was at the Hollywood Free Clinic for a round of STD testing.  It's a small clinic.  The receptionist desk is near the room full of patients, and it is hard to keep the talk on the down-low.  So the receptionist asked what I was in for.  I tried to say very quietly STD TESTING.  Of course it felt like everyone heard.  They probably did.  They were all probably there for the same thing. The receptionist was a total sweetie -- he patted my hand and told me whatever I had, if I had anything, would be treatable.  He asked if I had any symptoms, to which I said, "Racing heart, shame and paranoia." He blinked and asked if I had any other symptoms.  Lol.

So anywhoo, those are the highlights/lowlights of my stupid experience.  I could give 19 million more details, but I just can't.  My panic has faded and it appears the patient will live.  And now I have a zillion condoms stuffed in my purse and at my house for the next gent that (hopefully) comes along and doesn't require participation in MOTHERFUCKING ORGIES!!!!!  :)

P.S. Truth be told, I have wondered more than once since this event....Could I do a threesome?   An orgy?  Should I?????  I am not sure at what point my judgment left the building.