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Saturday, July 22, 2017
From Veterans For Peace-Can You Help Uplift Veteran Voices?
Global Network Newsletter Now Available Online
Our most recent edition of Space Alert! is now at the printer and will be mailed soon. In the meantime you can check it out Online via the link above.
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Brunswick, ME 04011
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http://space4peace.blogspot.com (blog)
Thank God men cannot fly, and lay waste the sky as well as the earth. - Henry David Thoreau
From Socialist Alternative- We raised $10,000 in one night!
We raised $10,000 in one night!
|
No tO U.S. War Planes Over Syria
Veterans For Peace Applauds the Adoption of a Nuclear Ban Treaty And Calls on U.S. To Sign Immediately
Veterans For Peace Applauds the Adoption of a Nuclear Ban Treaty And Calls on U.S. To Sign Immediately
On July 7th, 2017, the United Nations approved a legally binding Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons. At last, the world now has the first-ever treaty to ban all nuclear weapons.
The day the treaty was signed, the U.S. issued a statement that said “We do not intend to sign, ratify or ever become party to it.” The U.S., the sole remaining superpower, is developing new, more accurate and more lethal nuclear weapons, while deploying "missile defenses" that make a nuclear first strike more possible and more likely.
Veterans For Peace is dismayed that the U.S. refuses to sign the monumental treaty that will make the world a safer place. The Treaty is a victory for humanity and the shared natural world. It brings Veterans For Peace closer than ever to achieving our mission to abolish war by forwarding our goal of of ending the arms race and to reduce and eventually eliminate nuclear weapons.
Veterans For Peace remains committed to fulfilling our mission, redoubling our efforts to ensure that the United States ratifies the treaty and eliminate nuclear weapons entirely. Let this be the generation that will finally ban nuclear weapons.
It's not just about peace and justice; it's about the survival of all life on earth.
Breaking News Flash: Donald J. Trump, POTUS, Soviet-Era “Mole”?
Breaking News Flash:
Donald J. Trump, POTUS, Soviet-Era “Mole”?
By Frank Jackman
[No question on a day to
day basis there is more than enough speculation, “fake” news, “alternate facts”
around the Trump administration, its allies, and the role of the nefarious
Russians in the 2016 election cycle-and in the Trump family and their
associates lives. As moderator of this space I was a little hesitant to let
this little “bombshell” be posted. But over the past few weeks as daily
revelations, seemingly almost surreally unbelievable revelations and
allegations, about the Trump operation from his own meetings with Russians, his
son and son-in-law’s and a whole bunch of close operatives the following does not
seem so bizarre and is worthy of follow-up by media with far more reach and
resources that this blog had to push the investigation forward. -Peter Paul
Markin]
The rush of revelations
about meetings, discussions, e-mails, texts and who knows maybe even the
old-fashioned landline telephone over the past few weeks about the relationship
between Donald J. Trump, POTUS, and the nefarious Russians begins to make sense
if what I have been able to uncover can be further investigated. According to
my sources who for now wish to remain anonymous since they face possible
criminal charges under the Foreign Agents Registration Act Donald J. Trump back
in the 1970s for unknown purposes became a Soviet mole ready to do the
Kremlin’s bidding when they gave the go ahead. There is some question about
whether he was part of a larger “sleeper cell” but there is no question that he
was being “handled” by Soviet military intelligence in a top secret operation
code named “Lilac Rose” (the English translation for the operation, of
course.
My sources are older native-born
American citizens who for most of their adult lives before 1991 were high-level
members of the small American Communist Party. That part checks out as I have
seen photographs of them attending Party national conventions sitting at the podium and have been
shown other conclusive evidence. They knew and worked with my late older
brother Prescott who was also in the Party from his youth in the 1960s and I
knew them slightly for that reason. Of course after 1991 or 1992 with the
demise of the Soviet Union and the break-up of almost all the existing
Moscow-loyal communist parties they were left adrift although they continued to
be political activists for a number of years after that. Around 2010 they
decided to do a history of the American Communist Party during its post-World
War period when it barely survived the “red scare” of the 1950s and later had
been outmaneuvered by other leftist organizations for the loyalty of the youth
in the 1960s and 1970s. Somehow by a process which they only partially
described to me they used whatever connections they had with former Soviet
officials, academics and current Russian state employees to gain access to
Soviet-era military intelligence archives last year.
Whether or not my
sources were supposed to have access to the particular documents found in a
carton labelled “Operation Lilac Rose” they did gain access to the material. It
was through perusing those files that they came upon information describing a
series of “sleeper cells” and individuals in the United States. Not targetting average citizens who for whatever reason including financial gain had been
recruited, or recruited themselves to the operation but people in influential
places. One such cell based in New York City had one member who had extensive
real estate ties and holdings. Had borrowed a ton of money to build high rises,
skyscrapers and luxury hotels and was looking to make connections with Moscow.
My sources did not think
anything in particular of the profile at the time since these were long ago
events under a very different regime but as Trump gained the presidency and
then there was so much outcry about Trump’s Russian connections they came to me
to see if I could make sense of the material they let me look at. I, after
looking at all the particulars, have come to believe that the profile is that
of the President. A lot of things begin to fall into place once that idea of a
“mole” is accepted along with Trump’s post-Soviet connections with Russia. The
Russians were probably like many of us astounded by Trump’s victory over
Clinton. From the files the usual mode of operation was to keep a low profile
until ordered to do some action. The poor Russians are probably going
apoplectic over the public furor around them and Trump but it their problem
now. Ours, me and my sources’, main problem is getting a more resourceful
organization to look at the material and go forward on this potentially
important lead about the furor now going on in America.
Friday, July 21, 2017
A View From The Left-or Labor/Black Action to Stop the Fascists!
A View From The Left-or Labor/Black Action to Stop the Fascists!
Workers Vanguard No. 1114
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30 June 2017
|
For Labor/Black Action to Stop the Fascists!
Fascist terror is a clear and present danger, and Ricky John Best and Taliesin Myrddin Namkai Meche are among its victims. On May 26 in Portland, white-supremacist Jeremy Christian murdered the two men after they intervened to stop his racist tirades against two young women—one black, the other Muslim. A little over a week later, on June 4, several hundred race-terrorists, feeling the wind in their sails in Trump’s America, mobilized in downtown Portland—essentially in a celebration of the murder of these two courageous men.
The rally included supporters of fascist outfits like Identity Evropa, the Proud Boys and the Traditionalist Worker Party. It was addressed by “alt-right” poster boy Kyle “Based Stickman” Chapman, notorious for his attacks against antifa activists in Berkeley earlier this year. Making clear that they were out for blood, a prominent fascist pointed to the antifa counter-protesters and told the press, “I look over there and I just want to smash.”
The Portland cops, Oregon State Police, FBI and Department of Homeland Security heavily mobilized to protect the fascists. They attacked the anarchist antifa protesters, disarming and dispersing them using stun grenades, pepper balls and tear gas. Fourteen antifa activists were arrested. Defend anti-fascist protesters! Drop all charges now! The cops made clear that their role is to be the guard dogs of the capitalist order and of its fascist auxiliaries. Indeed, the police are the main source of racist violence against black people and other minorities.
Less than a week after the June 4 fascist mobilization, “anti-sharia” rallies called by American Congress for Truth, the largest anti-Muslim group in the U.S., were held in more than two dozen cities, including NYC, Chicago and other urban centers. The New York rally of some 100 included a significant presence from the Proud Boys, Identity Evropa, Anti-Communist Action and other fascist groups. The fascist-inspired “Kekistan” flag flew prominently, while a placard declared: “No More Muslims.”
The meaning of such declarations was made clear on June 18 in northern Virginia. While walking back to a mosque with friends for an early morning Ramadan prayer session, 17-year-old Nabra Hassanen, who was wearing an Islamic abaya, was assaulted by Darwin Martinez Torres. He attacked her with a baseball bat and dragged her to his car. Her body was found later that evening; she’d been beaten to death. The cops have dismissed Nabra’s murder as an incident of “road rage.” Her father, Mahmoud Hassanen, an immigrant from Egypt, told reporters: “It’s racism. Getting killed because she’s Muslim.”
Now, several prominent fascists have called a “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, on August 12. The slated speakers are a veritable who’s who of the contemporary American fascist movement. First among them is would-be führer Richard Spencer of the innocuously named National Policy Institute (last month in Charlottesville, Spencer led a group of dozens of fascists carrying torches and chanting Nazi slogans to protest plans to remove a statue of Confederate general Robert E. Lee). Other speakers include Matthew Heimbach, head of the Traditionalist Worker Party, and Michael Hill, president of the League of the South. The flyer for the rally includes Nazi-style eagle logos, Confederate monuments and soldiers marching with the Confederate flag.
The fascists are emboldened by the “Make America Great Again” racism of the Trump administration. They feed off the economic misery and devastation inflicted on the population by the capitalist rulers. Every time they successfully rally, they gain confidence and win new recruits to their program of race-terror. The ultimate aim of today’s fascists, including the new breed that dresses in suits and speaks of defending “Western Civilization,” is no different than their Nazi and Klan forebears: racial genocide and the destruction of workers organizations, including unions and the left.
When the race-terrorists reared their heads in NYC on June 10 for the “anti-sharia” rally, our comrades participated with a contingent in the counter-protest. At the same time, we emphasized that what is needed are massive, integrated, disciplined mobilizations based on the social power of the multiracial working class to stop the fascists and crush them in the egg.
A small taste of that power in action was provided last month by the International Longshore and Warehouse Union (ILWU) Local 10 in Oakland. On May 25, Local 10 members walked off the job when a hangman’s noose, the symbol of racist terror in America, was found at the SSA terminal in the Port of Oakland. This was the second time in just over two weeks that a noose was found at the terminal, a calculated and deadly threat against the ILWU, particularly its black members, who make up a majority of Local 10. (See “ILWU Work Stoppage Protests Lynch Rope Provocation,” WV No. 1113, 2 June).
The labor movement has been flat on its back for many years under a misleadership that is committed to capitalism and has shackled the unions to the capitalist Democratic Party. With labor struggle at an all-time low, the ruling class currently has no need to let loose its fascist thugs to destroy the workers movement; but they hold their shock troops in reserve.
It is in the interest of the whole of the working class to mobilize the power of labor in defense of black people, immigrants and all the intended victims of fascist terror. As we wrote in “Fascists Fueled by Trump Election” (WV No. 1110, 21 April): “It is the fascists—not black people, immigrants, Muslims, Jews, leftists and others—who must be made to feel the sting of fear.” Standing at the head of the oppressed, and relying on its collective strength, the working class has the power to beat back the fascist threat through united-front action. Above all, it is vital to forge a revolutionary, multiracial workers party that fights to finish the Civil War through an American workers revolution. Proletarian rule will lay the basis for black equality and the liberation of all the exploited and oppressed, putting the last nail in the coffin of the fascist killers.
On Intergenerational Sex “…And Keep Me Young As I Grow Old”- With A Tip Of The Stetson To The Belfast Cowboy, Van Morrison
On Intergenerational Sex “…And Keep Me Young As I Grow Old”- With A Tip Of The Stetson To The Belfast Cowboy, Van Morrison
A YouTube film clip of Van Morrison performing The Beauty Of The Days Gone By which has the "... and keep me young as I grow old" line in it.
Markin comment:
This space, fundamentally, is devoted to political struggles, the big picture communist future political struggles that reflect the hard fact, as noted by Leon Trotsky's definitive biographer, Isaac Deutscher, that we communists have in the past, and continue now, to devote the bulk of our energies to the most immediately pressing of the three great tragedies of life, the struggle against hunger. The other two, sex and death, have gotten short shrift other than to be dealt with in broad brush stokes, basically arguing that in our communist future those two acknowledged mysterious passages will be dealt with more thoughtfully, less traumatically, and with deeper insight.
That said, where does that leave my old North Adamsville High School Class of 1964 corner boy class mate, Johnny Silver, and his twin sex and death dilemmas-growing old and still having a yearning for sexual adventure, sexual adventure with younger, much younger women. Other than calling him, rightly I think, a “ dirty old man” for even thinking about having sex with a young, curvaceous, nubile woman, to speak nothing of what it might do to his physical condition, we have no immediate communist program to alleviate his problem. Sorry Johnny. No question though under such a now seemingly utopian regime inter-generational sex will be no more the subject of scandalous gossip that various other homo and heterosexual variations of sexual activity that are the norm now.
Now, if one has been attentive, I have, with the exception of Leon Trotsky’s brief fling with Mexican painter Frida Kahlo in the late 1930s during his Mexican exile, not spent much time on the personal sex lives of our revolutionary forbears. That has been in keeping with the traditional reticence of revolutionaries to discuss their personal sexual lives. And with my own preferences in the uses of this space. I, however, feel that Johnny Silver’s case can be instructive for those of us who are going into our “golden years” and are still as randy as middle schoolers. Therefore I have posted Johnny Silver’s story, non-communist, non-political, Johnny Silver’s story, here for your perusal. The weak of heart, those under a doctor’s care, and assorted outraged moral philistines should avoid reading this for the good of your lives and/or souls. Note, and note carefully that other than a little editorial work this is strictly Johnny’s responsibility although I will admit my temperature and pulse were vicariously rising somewhat while performing this onerous task.
Johnny Silver’s comment:
I always liked younger girls when I was just a kid and I never got out of that habit, that sweet young thing habit. I used to take a lot guff from Frankie Riley, Peter Paul, and the other corner boys “up the Downs” at our hang-out, Salducci’s Pizza Parlor, when at sixteen I dated up twelve-year old “Luscious” Linda Lorraine (but “hot,” hot way beyond her years as I found out, have mercy, when she practically “raped” me, raped me if you can believe that, on our first date down at the North Adamsville Beach one summer night. I won’t say more because Peter Paul, who is editing this thing, might take a heart attack when he reads this since he never got to first base with her, and he tried, at least that is what she said, they all tried). They would yell “jail bait,” “baby-snatcher,” “cradle-robber,” and all that stuff that has been said by people, guys especially, since about the time Adam tried to date up Eve (who was a lot younger than he was and must have been pretty “hot” herself to get Adam off the straight and narrow) but she was fine, some sweet soap-smelling fine, and just getting some nice curves and stuff. Maybe that is where I go the habit. [Markin: All we ever said was “watch out” Johnny. Linda, who lived the next street over from me then, was nothing but a “man trap,” a serious man-trap and Johnny was only one of several who enjoyed her “favors” in those days. Despite Johnny’s obvious lapse of memory I never tried to get to first base, or any base with her. As for the others, the corner boy others, I would not be surprised if on some “horny” girl friend-less nights they didn’t take a shot at it. It wasn’t hard. Last we heard of Linda she had had several kids by her early twenties and died of a heroin overdose in her mid-thirties so it wasn’t the age thing at all about Linda whatever Johnny might say now.]
And it's always pretty much was that way going forward. My first wife, Laurie, whom I met and who Peter Paul knows, was nothing but a fox when I was in graduate school and she was in high school and whom I met when I came back for a North Adamsville –Adamsville high school Thanksgiving Day football game. She was captain of the Red Raider cheer-leaders and I took dead aim at her [Markin: I agree Laurie was a fox, no question, but again we told Johnny to “watch out” on her as well because she was nothing but a man-eater as he found out a few kids, and a lot of alimony payments, later. I admit I took a “run” at her myself when they split up but I am still grinding my teeth over the way she treated me during our short “affair,” if that’s what you could call it.] When I met my second wife, Alicia, she was just in graduate school and I was in my late thirties. [Markin: Johnny and I started drifting apart then, mainly different parts of the country, so I don’t know about Alicia’s qualities but Johnny says that she treated him “good,” which to Johnny always meant good at giving him oral sex and stuff like that. Okay, get used to it we are adults and more explicit sexual details will be coming up so be forewarned. And take your heart medicine for god’s sake.] My third wife, Becky, was barely out of college and I was in my forties when we met but she was “good.”
After that I stopped marrying them and just settled into a steady diet of “dating” seemingly ever younger women that I met through my work contacts or other social situations. [Markin: Johnny was, and is, a very good construction site consulting engineer.] And then, after Carrie left to pursue her screen-writing “dream” in California things dried up, dried up hard for this older man [Markin: Carrie was Johnny’s last serious live-in girlfriend, emphasis on the girl part, barely legal]. Well, first, damn the computer age for one thing, since it meant I could do more of my consulting work from home. And get more work done (and charge more as well). But it meant that the social situations also dried up. And no 50-something guy, no 50-something guy in his right mind, is going to the “meat market” singles bars around town trying to pick up the young ones when they have plenty of young guys around to moon over and get worked up about. [Markin: I am trying to be gentle with Brother Silver here but he “forgot” to mention getting laughed at, ridiculed and told to go “back to the nursing home” by those self-same younger women. He also “forgot” to mention that he was not a 50-something guy but a 60-something guy when the “heat” came on him.]. And second, damn, whatever that Adam “spreading his seed” thing was because even if things dried up socially this old man wasn’t dried up, if you get my meaning. [Markin: Translation; he was still as randy as a middle- schooler] So I did whatever any “on the information super-highway” guy would do, I went online looking for sex sites, younger women-centered sex sites. [Markin: Johnny didn’t have to work up a sweat finding them they practically come at you from the homepage onward.]
Of course “dating” services have been going on since just after Adam and Eve got it on. (Eve, by the way, a younger woman, a much younger woman and probably pretty “hot,” with a firm, curvaceous, naked body hot from what I heard, if I didn’t mention it before). Nowadays though (thank god, and thank god I took my medicine beforehand) the sexually explicit stuff women are putting online for your perusal is “over the top,” especially the younger ones, thank god. So naturally I filled out my “profile” page, paid my dough (via credit card but be careful), and “joined” all the other guys, horny guys waiting, wanting to “get laid” tonight.
Well things were kind of slow for a while since I blocked off returning messages to any women over thirty, and rightly so as they started looking kind of sad sack by then (although there were plenty of them around, around with kid baggage, if that is where your tastes run go see). I though at first it might be because there was a prejudice against 50-something guys in this hellish youth-drive universe. [Markin: See note above on the age question, the Johnny Silver age question.] And then Tracy, sweet eighteen-year old Tracy, answered my plea.
Now Tracy was not your average young woman (girl really but let’s leave it at that). She was eighteen, bright, intelligent, ambitious, resourceful, and looking for a “sugar daddy,” whatever that might mean. Yes dear, Johnny Silver is just your meat. [Markin: After some research this old-fashioned term “sugar daddy” could mean, like in the old days, someone, some man, who paid the freight to today’s “hook-up” or “friends-with benefits," or something entirely innocuous.] But here is where the problem came in. We sent many message back and forth and we were making some headway. She stated clearly that she was not into “mere boys,” but older men who had been around, and knew a thing or two (or three). Yes Tracy, Johnny is very, very just your meat.
Eventually she agreed to meet me in a public place to discuss, discuss our “the exact meaning of sugar daddy" business, and the like. But here is where the wheels started to come off, almost. She wanted some pictures of me, presumably recently up-loaded digital camera-produced photos, before we met. Her idea, innocent enough, and actually reasonable enough, was to make sure I was not some three-headed monster or, perhaps, someone recently released from parole for any number of charges from sexual offenses to murder and mayhem [Markin: Smart girl. As for any possible sexual offenses, as far as I know, they were all consensual and not in the least bit criminal although a few irate fathers might differ. The murder and mayhem I would advise that Johnny plead the Fifth on that one.]
And that was the first stumbling block. See, old guys like Peter Paul and me, were not suckled on computer technology practically from birth like today’s kids. We survive on the “information super-highway” but juts barely and while I know, as Markin does, enough to get by let’s just call us “primitives.” In short, I confess, bitterly confess, any pictures I had were not digital, and even if they were I did not know how to up-load them onto any site, sex site or not. Truth. However Tracy did not believe me, and it made sense in her iPhone, iPad, texting, Facebook world that everybody knew how to do such an eight year old simple task. I only avoided total defeat by producing some older photos and reading every manual for up-loading that came with the printer. But it was a near thing.
I won’t bore the reader with the details of our first meeting, or our later meetings but she was certain fetching in person and wiser in age than some of the older young women that I have been with through the years. But the big thing was that she was wonderful in bed. And this is where the faint-hearted, or just plain perverted, can get off and find your own sex site. Well let’s start off as always with the firm, soft, wrinkle-free skin, breast, buttock, thighs, that has driven me wild since old-time Linda Lorraine (hell, I can still smell her Palmolive soap, or perfume or whatever she used to drive the boys wild even now). Then of course the school-girlish strip tease that always gets me going. And then placing her mouth, well, placing her mouth where it did some good. Hell though everybody who reads this knows what’s what. I don' t have to draw a diagram, do I? Yes, we did it did several times (not all in one day, Viagra is good but no that good). She was very inventive with positions and of course, I knew a thing or two (or three) that got her going (read: moaning and groaning for her sugar daddy and not the old –fashioned meaning of the word either whatever Markin’s research said it meant in the old days). She still smiles about those two (or three things when I bring it up).
But the point is really about “… and keep me young while getting old” as the line from the Van Morrison song, The Beauty Of The Days Gone By. Some guys get it by pumping iron or other maniac strenuous exercising, and some by endless youth-enhancing operations. And some, like Markin, by writing endlessly about the old days like they were coming back, or could do anybody any good. [Markin: Watch it, Johnny, watch it brother.] Me, no, I want a young thing, a young firm thing, a young sex-crazed thing, a firm young thing that wants a lesson in those two (or three) things I could teach her (and have her sweaty-smiling a couple of days later over) right next to me right up until, and maybe past, judgment day. Can you blame me?
Markin postscript comment:
We had better get to that communist future in a hurry, a real hurry. In the meantime I’ll go off and take a shower, a very cold shower. Oh yes, Johnny, by the way (BTW for the cyber-slang crowd) what is Tracy’s cell phone number? Or does she have a geezer-craving girlfriend? Whatever you do, Johnny- “don’t watch out, not now.”
A YouTube film clip of Van Morrison performing The Beauty Of The Days Gone By which has the "... and keep me young as I grow old" line in it.
Markin comment:
This space, fundamentally, is devoted to political struggles, the big picture communist future political struggles that reflect the hard fact, as noted by Leon Trotsky's definitive biographer, Isaac Deutscher, that we communists have in the past, and continue now, to devote the bulk of our energies to the most immediately pressing of the three great tragedies of life, the struggle against hunger. The other two, sex and death, have gotten short shrift other than to be dealt with in broad brush stokes, basically arguing that in our communist future those two acknowledged mysterious passages will be dealt with more thoughtfully, less traumatically, and with deeper insight.
That said, where does that leave my old North Adamsville High School Class of 1964 corner boy class mate, Johnny Silver, and his twin sex and death dilemmas-growing old and still having a yearning for sexual adventure, sexual adventure with younger, much younger women. Other than calling him, rightly I think, a “ dirty old man” for even thinking about having sex with a young, curvaceous, nubile woman, to speak nothing of what it might do to his physical condition, we have no immediate communist program to alleviate his problem. Sorry Johnny. No question though under such a now seemingly utopian regime inter-generational sex will be no more the subject of scandalous gossip that various other homo and heterosexual variations of sexual activity that are the norm now.
Now, if one has been attentive, I have, with the exception of Leon Trotsky’s brief fling with Mexican painter Frida Kahlo in the late 1930s during his Mexican exile, not spent much time on the personal sex lives of our revolutionary forbears. That has been in keeping with the traditional reticence of revolutionaries to discuss their personal sexual lives. And with my own preferences in the uses of this space. I, however, feel that Johnny Silver’s case can be instructive for those of us who are going into our “golden years” and are still as randy as middle schoolers. Therefore I have posted Johnny Silver’s story, non-communist, non-political, Johnny Silver’s story, here for your perusal. The weak of heart, those under a doctor’s care, and assorted outraged moral philistines should avoid reading this for the good of your lives and/or souls. Note, and note carefully that other than a little editorial work this is strictly Johnny’s responsibility although I will admit my temperature and pulse were vicariously rising somewhat while performing this onerous task.
Johnny Silver’s comment:
I always liked younger girls when I was just a kid and I never got out of that habit, that sweet young thing habit. I used to take a lot guff from Frankie Riley, Peter Paul, and the other corner boys “up the Downs” at our hang-out, Salducci’s Pizza Parlor, when at sixteen I dated up twelve-year old “Luscious” Linda Lorraine (but “hot,” hot way beyond her years as I found out, have mercy, when she practically “raped” me, raped me if you can believe that, on our first date down at the North Adamsville Beach one summer night. I won’t say more because Peter Paul, who is editing this thing, might take a heart attack when he reads this since he never got to first base with her, and he tried, at least that is what she said, they all tried). They would yell “jail bait,” “baby-snatcher,” “cradle-robber,” and all that stuff that has been said by people, guys especially, since about the time Adam tried to date up Eve (who was a lot younger than he was and must have been pretty “hot” herself to get Adam off the straight and narrow) but she was fine, some sweet soap-smelling fine, and just getting some nice curves and stuff. Maybe that is where I go the habit. [Markin: All we ever said was “watch out” Johnny. Linda, who lived the next street over from me then, was nothing but a “man trap,” a serious man-trap and Johnny was only one of several who enjoyed her “favors” in those days. Despite Johnny’s obvious lapse of memory I never tried to get to first base, or any base with her. As for the others, the corner boy others, I would not be surprised if on some “horny” girl friend-less nights they didn’t take a shot at it. It wasn’t hard. Last we heard of Linda she had had several kids by her early twenties and died of a heroin overdose in her mid-thirties so it wasn’t the age thing at all about Linda whatever Johnny might say now.]
And it's always pretty much was that way going forward. My first wife, Laurie, whom I met and who Peter Paul knows, was nothing but a fox when I was in graduate school and she was in high school and whom I met when I came back for a North Adamsville –Adamsville high school Thanksgiving Day football game. She was captain of the Red Raider cheer-leaders and I took dead aim at her [Markin: I agree Laurie was a fox, no question, but again we told Johnny to “watch out” on her as well because she was nothing but a man-eater as he found out a few kids, and a lot of alimony payments, later. I admit I took a “run” at her myself when they split up but I am still grinding my teeth over the way she treated me during our short “affair,” if that’s what you could call it.] When I met my second wife, Alicia, she was just in graduate school and I was in my late thirties. [Markin: Johnny and I started drifting apart then, mainly different parts of the country, so I don’t know about Alicia’s qualities but Johnny says that she treated him “good,” which to Johnny always meant good at giving him oral sex and stuff like that. Okay, get used to it we are adults and more explicit sexual details will be coming up so be forewarned. And take your heart medicine for god’s sake.] My third wife, Becky, was barely out of college and I was in my forties when we met but she was “good.”
After that I stopped marrying them and just settled into a steady diet of “dating” seemingly ever younger women that I met through my work contacts or other social situations. [Markin: Johnny was, and is, a very good construction site consulting engineer.] And then, after Carrie left to pursue her screen-writing “dream” in California things dried up, dried up hard for this older man [Markin: Carrie was Johnny’s last serious live-in girlfriend, emphasis on the girl part, barely legal]. Well, first, damn the computer age for one thing, since it meant I could do more of my consulting work from home. And get more work done (and charge more as well). But it meant that the social situations also dried up. And no 50-something guy, no 50-something guy in his right mind, is going to the “meat market” singles bars around town trying to pick up the young ones when they have plenty of young guys around to moon over and get worked up about. [Markin: I am trying to be gentle with Brother Silver here but he “forgot” to mention getting laughed at, ridiculed and told to go “back to the nursing home” by those self-same younger women. He also “forgot” to mention that he was not a 50-something guy but a 60-something guy when the “heat” came on him.]. And second, damn, whatever that Adam “spreading his seed” thing was because even if things dried up socially this old man wasn’t dried up, if you get my meaning. [Markin: Translation; he was still as randy as a middle- schooler] So I did whatever any “on the information super-highway” guy would do, I went online looking for sex sites, younger women-centered sex sites. [Markin: Johnny didn’t have to work up a sweat finding them they practically come at you from the homepage onward.]
Of course “dating” services have been going on since just after Adam and Eve got it on. (Eve, by the way, a younger woman, a much younger woman and probably pretty “hot,” with a firm, curvaceous, naked body hot from what I heard, if I didn’t mention it before). Nowadays though (thank god, and thank god I took my medicine beforehand) the sexually explicit stuff women are putting online for your perusal is “over the top,” especially the younger ones, thank god. So naturally I filled out my “profile” page, paid my dough (via credit card but be careful), and “joined” all the other guys, horny guys waiting, wanting to “get laid” tonight.
Well things were kind of slow for a while since I blocked off returning messages to any women over thirty, and rightly so as they started looking kind of sad sack by then (although there were plenty of them around, around with kid baggage, if that is where your tastes run go see). I though at first it might be because there was a prejudice against 50-something guys in this hellish youth-drive universe. [Markin: See note above on the age question, the Johnny Silver age question.] And then Tracy, sweet eighteen-year old Tracy, answered my plea.
Now Tracy was not your average young woman (girl really but let’s leave it at that). She was eighteen, bright, intelligent, ambitious, resourceful, and looking for a “sugar daddy,” whatever that might mean. Yes dear, Johnny Silver is just your meat. [Markin: After some research this old-fashioned term “sugar daddy” could mean, like in the old days, someone, some man, who paid the freight to today’s “hook-up” or “friends-with benefits," or something entirely innocuous.] But here is where the problem came in. We sent many message back and forth and we were making some headway. She stated clearly that she was not into “mere boys,” but older men who had been around, and knew a thing or two (or three). Yes Tracy, Johnny is very, very just your meat.
Eventually she agreed to meet me in a public place to discuss, discuss our “the exact meaning of sugar daddy" business, and the like. But here is where the wheels started to come off, almost. She wanted some pictures of me, presumably recently up-loaded digital camera-produced photos, before we met. Her idea, innocent enough, and actually reasonable enough, was to make sure I was not some three-headed monster or, perhaps, someone recently released from parole for any number of charges from sexual offenses to murder and mayhem [Markin: Smart girl. As for any possible sexual offenses, as far as I know, they were all consensual and not in the least bit criminal although a few irate fathers might differ. The murder and mayhem I would advise that Johnny plead the Fifth on that one.]
And that was the first stumbling block. See, old guys like Peter Paul and me, were not suckled on computer technology practically from birth like today’s kids. We survive on the “information super-highway” but juts barely and while I know, as Markin does, enough to get by let’s just call us “primitives.” In short, I confess, bitterly confess, any pictures I had were not digital, and even if they were I did not know how to up-load them onto any site, sex site or not. Truth. However Tracy did not believe me, and it made sense in her iPhone, iPad, texting, Facebook world that everybody knew how to do such an eight year old simple task. I only avoided total defeat by producing some older photos and reading every manual for up-loading that came with the printer. But it was a near thing.
I won’t bore the reader with the details of our first meeting, or our later meetings but she was certain fetching in person and wiser in age than some of the older young women that I have been with through the years. But the big thing was that she was wonderful in bed. And this is where the faint-hearted, or just plain perverted, can get off and find your own sex site. Well let’s start off as always with the firm, soft, wrinkle-free skin, breast, buttock, thighs, that has driven me wild since old-time Linda Lorraine (hell, I can still smell her Palmolive soap, or perfume or whatever she used to drive the boys wild even now). Then of course the school-girlish strip tease that always gets me going. And then placing her mouth, well, placing her mouth where it did some good. Hell though everybody who reads this knows what’s what. I don' t have to draw a diagram, do I? Yes, we did it did several times (not all in one day, Viagra is good but no that good). She was very inventive with positions and of course, I knew a thing or two (or three) that got her going (read: moaning and groaning for her sugar daddy and not the old –fashioned meaning of the word either whatever Markin’s research said it meant in the old days). She still smiles about those two (or three things when I bring it up).
But the point is really about “… and keep me young while getting old” as the line from the Van Morrison song, The Beauty Of The Days Gone By. Some guys get it by pumping iron or other maniac strenuous exercising, and some by endless youth-enhancing operations. And some, like Markin, by writing endlessly about the old days like they were coming back, or could do anybody any good. [Markin: Watch it, Johnny, watch it brother.] Me, no, I want a young thing, a young firm thing, a young sex-crazed thing, a firm young thing that wants a lesson in those two (or three) things I could teach her (and have her sweaty-smiling a couple of days later over) right next to me right up until, and maybe past, judgment day. Can you blame me?
Markin postscript comment:
We had better get to that communist future in a hurry, a real hurry. In the meantime I’ll go off and take a shower, a very cold shower. Oh yes, Johnny, by the way (BTW for the cyber-slang crowd) what is Tracy’s cell phone number? Or does she have a geezer-craving girlfriend? Whatever you do, Johnny- “don’t watch out, not now.”
Thursday, July 20, 2017
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