Uncensored, completely real, mostly inappropriate, randomness........

Friday, March 26, 2010

The Study of Women

During my time in college I was a member of the Women's Studies program. Every time I have shared this tid bit of information with people, it never fails, they always have some smart ass comment to make. Most people immediately assume that the women's studies program is all about promoting the liberation and rights of women, but there are so many more interesting aspects that most are entirely oblivious of. So until you have studied the matter further, you should take your uneducated wise ass remarks and stuff them up your fat ass...... But, for all those that are intelligent enough to open your mind and realize the interesting potential of the topic matter, check the awesomeness of this shit out..... Here are some photographs and some historical information on several torture devices commonly used on women during the Medieval times.....

The Chastity Belt

The chastity belt is a locking item of clothing worn mostly by women, designed to prevent rape, sexual intercourse, or temptation. Some of the devices were designed with additional features to also prevent masturbation. It was most often a jealous husband, or sometimes a controlling father, who enforced the wearing of the locking mechanism. The term “chastity belt” is also used as a metaphor in modern English to apply over protectiveness. The term carries a derisive connotation and may also imply that the subject is antiquated, or is cumbersome, or provides unnecessary or unwanted protection. According to modern myth, the chastity belt was used as an anti-temptation device during the Crusades. When the knight left for the Holy Lands on the Crusades, he would force his lady to wear a chastity belt to preserve her faithfulness to him. There is no credible evidence that chastity belts existed before the 15th century, more than one hundred years after the last Crusade.

The Iron Maiden


A mantle of infamy for women and girls during the 16th century, the iron maiden is in fact a sarcophagus. The only two main differences are that it has tips all over the front door and that people died after getting in--and not before. The Iron Maiden was introduced in Germany. Even though it is commonly believed that it was used in the Middle Ages, the truth is that it was invented a few centuries later. Very few people had the misfortune of experiencing what it feels like to be trapped in this sarcophagus. Normally, the big door would be shut slowly; the tips crushing a person in agonizing pain. There was a tube in the bottom that made the victim see his own blood as it poured out of his body. The few people that did make it to this device lasted more than 2 days before death finally struck them.

The Inquisitional Chair or Spiked Chair


An instrument of torture which originated from the witch trial era, The Spiked Chair is covered with spikes on the back, arms, seat, on the leg-rests, and on the foot-rests. To make the spikes piercing the body even more effective and torturous, they also used a screw system. The bars, either made of iron or wood, fastened the victim around the waist, around the wrists, and around the chest or bust. The seat was often made of iron that could be heated. These implements were used in Germany up until the 19th century, in Italy and in Spain up until the end of the 1700s, in France and in other central European countries, according to certain sources, up until the end of 1800.


The Branks

The Branks or Scold's Bridle is a sort of metal gag, which was principally used on scolding housewives. It was typically fashioned as a cage that locked onto the head, aided by a metal protrusion that fit into the mouth. This tongue-piece was often enhanced with spikes or a rowel (small spiked wheel) to discourage attempts to speak. They appear to have originated in Scotland in the 16th century and passed from there to England and thence to the Americas, although there is some evidence that a type of branks may have been used even earlier. Some were also fitted with a chain to permit securing the wearer in a public place. Ancient houses in Congleton, Cheshire had a hook fixed beside the fireplace to which the town gaoler could fix the community bridle if the wife nagged too much. Occasionally a bell on a spring was added to herald the approach of the wearer. An example of this type is on display in the Torture Chamber of the Tower of London. Branks were also used to silence witches to prevent them from chanting or reciting their magic spells. In the Americas, the branks were a type of humiliation punishment, while in medieval Europe, they were used more as a torture device.

The Breast Ripper


Cold or red-hot, the four claws slowly ripped to formless masses the breasts of countless women condemned for heresy, blasphemy, adultery and many other “libidinous acts”, self-induced abortion, erotic white magic and other crimes. In various places at various times –in some regions of France and Germany until the early nineteenth century– a “bite” with a red-hot ripper was inflicted upon one breast of unmarried mothers, often whilst their creatures, splattered with maternal blood, writhed on the ground at their feet. Besides the punitive function, breast-ripping also served as an interrogational and juridical procedure.

The Pear of Anguish

Feared in Europe during the Medieval Times, the Pear of Anguish was an extremely painful device used to punish and torture women who committed adultery and performed abortions; also liars, blasphemers, homosexuals, and witches. The pear shaped instrument was inserted into one of the victim’s orifices: the vagina for women, the anus for homosexuals, and the mouth for liars and blasphemers. The instrument consisted of four leaves that slowly separated from each other as the torturer turned the screw at the top; increasing the pain, tearing the skin, and mutilating the victim’s orifice. The Pear of Anguish was mostly commonly used for oral punishments; it would destroy teeth, dislocate, or even break the jawbones. If introduced in the anus or vagina, it would rupture the sensitive membranes and tissues of the areas resulting in severe internal mutilation. The instrument was rarely washed, thus causing infections very frequently. Pears of Anguish still in existence are lavishly engraved or adorned to differentiate between the anal, vaginal, and oral pears. This form of torture rarely brought death, but was often followed by other torture methods.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Unsaid

The time has come my love, I must let you go..... I've given you years

of my life, you've left me alone with nothing to show..... You will

break my heart no longer, I will not follow..... I must move forward

pushing against the tears..... You fooled me with your empty

promises..... You lead me to believe false truths..... You selfishly

drug my child into the middle of it all..... Why do you need to play

games, I do not understand..... What is it that you want from me.....

You tell me how incredibly beautiful I am..... You tell me you have

never loved anyone as much as I..... You make love to me with a

passion so deep, so intense..... You tell me that I am the perfect

woman for you..... You smile and look at me as if you truly mean what

you say..... Then after I turn and walk out the door, you return your

attention to her..... Do you tell her the very same things you tell me,

I would be a fool to think not..... Do you touch and cherish her with

the same amount of passion, of course you do..... It has become

obvious that she owns your heart, I try but cannot compete..... My

love, although truly pure, is simply not enough..... I will never

really have you, at least not to keep..... You love me, you need me,

you want me so badly; so you say..... Yet it is never enough to

convince you to stay.....

Monday, March 15, 2010

My Love

I lay beneath you upon a bed of clouds

I watch you, as you ever so gently caress my naked body

You look at me and without saying a word, I can feel you

I become entangled within you; both emotionally and physically

The emotions are intense, unlike any I have ever felt before

Within the room there is a sexual silence

A shared moment of deep romantic passion

As you kiss me, I feel myself becoming vulnerable

The taste of you takes my breath away

An immediate rush captures my soul

As I feel you inside of me I begin drifting away; into our secret world

You whisper, "You are an incredible lover"

I respond whispering, "You are too"

We exchange smiles of unmeasurable desire and pleasure

For the moment we have become "us," we have become one again

Sweat begins rushing from beneath my skin

My body is trembling with delight

As I reach orgasm you hold me and look powerfully into my eyes

Your gaze penetrates my heart, the very essence of my being

I love you, I belong to you

I wish to never leave; as if you ever gave my heart the option

I am truly, unmistakably, and forever yours

Monday, March 8, 2010

It's Been Almost Ten Years Now...

Robert Andrew Maguire
9-14-97~1-19-02


Although it has been nearly ten years since the accident you are still very dearly missed. I find myself thinking of you often, feeling both sad and happy at the same time; smiling yet always holding back the tears. Somehow I still find myself wishing things would not have turned out this way. Somehow I still find myself questioning whether or not my decisions that day could have changed the final outcome; could I have rewritten your fate.

I remember that day all too well..... I spent nearly an hour talking with you on the telephone; you were trying to convince me to hang out with you for the evening. I on the other hand had already made other plans. I was going to hang out with a stupid man who in all actuality was wasting my precious time and life; for he was no good. No matter how you tried to convince me, I made the very foolish decision of picking a man over my best friend. You were slightly upset with me for choosing to hang with him over you, but at the same time you understood the predicament that I was in. You were always so understanding of my fucking up. You always did your best to give me the correct advice and lead me in the right direction. I never got the chance to tell you, but I really appreciated your friendship...

After our phone call I proceeded to get in the bath tub to get ready for my evening out. You were going to stop by my house on your way into town for one last round of trying to convince me to change my plans. As I was sitting in the bath tub I got this horrific vision, accompanied by some seriously gruesome thoughts. I suddenly got chills over my entire body, became extremely nauseous, and had a flash in my mind of you being in a horrible car crash; a crash that was so devastating that you did not make it through it alive. This image was accompanied by the exact thought that you stopping by my house before your outing would be the last time that I would ever see you again. Immediately after having the thoughts and visions I said to myself out loud, "That is an awful thing to even imagine up, I should not even let my mind conjure up such madness."

I was tremendously bothered by this, but I brushed it off as just being the craziness within my mind and went about my getting washed up. When you stopped by your visit was very brief, I had already made up my mind and was not willing to break my plans. You gave me the evil eye and some grief, but smiled and gave up. Before you left we were standing outside by your car talking; you kissed me. Although we were just friends at the time we had been discussing the possibility of our relationship progressing further. You had just returned from New Jersey so we were not rushing things, plus I still had a bad relationship that I had to figure out how to escape from first...

As you kissed me I remember that same gruesome thought flashing through my mind and I wanted so badly to beg you not to go, but I decided that rationally everything was going to be alright; so I didn't say anything. I let you walk away that day, leaving behind only a kiss and a smile...

The next morning it was approximately 8:30 am when I was sitting in the living room of my home and the phone rang. My mother answered it..... before she had time to even look at me I already knew. I knew it was the phone call that would change things forever...

On the phone was (.......), one of our greatest friends, bearing the news that you had been killed in a horrific car accident during the night. This was the moment that I would never escape from...

I was terrified and in shock all at the same time. My immediate response was to think if only I had been smart enough to quit wasting my time on a no good idiot I would have been with you, and maybe I could have gotten you home safely. Or, maybe if I would have just convinced you not to go the car wreck would not have happened. Or, had I gone with you maybe I would have been killed also. My mind became flooded with "What if" scenarios...

Sometimes when I look back on it all I feel like that was my one shot to alter life and reality, and I foolishly passed it up. I feel like I had the complete power to change your life forever and yet I didn't; I almost feel as if I just stood there and let you die...

I have only shared my visions with one person..... I still to this day have a hard time rationalizing it all.... Sometimes I feel like I am truly and absolutely crazy and it is all nonsense, but there is no denying what happened that day. My thoughts were so clear and concise that they stopped me completely in my path...

I will always regret and be haunted by my decision to not stop you that day. I feel like it was my responsibility to do so, and I let you down...

I am so very sorry...

I have always wanted to tell your mother the truth, but I fear it would only hurt her more. After all you are now gone and it is too late to alter the reality of what happened. It is probably best at this point to keep the truth a secret...

I often pass by the crash site and find myself questioning whether or not you are trapped out there alongside the road; your spirit wandering lost, trying to find a way back to the life and happiness you once knew. I hope that you have escaped this life and I hope that you are free; free from all the hurt and suffering...

I will always love you and miss you dearly... Although you are no longer with me, you will always hold a special place in my heart... The moments that we shared, I will forever cherish...

I guess the only explanation that I can make any rational sense out of is the old saying "everything happens for a specific reason." There is one thing though that I will never understand. Why did I have to know beforehand? It is, and forever will be such an enormous burden to carry...

Friday, March 5, 2010

Artwork I am fond of...























Title: Design for the ball in the dream sequence in "Spellbound"
Artist: Salvador Dali
Year: 1944
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 19.9 in x 23.8 in, (50.5 x 60.5 cm)
Location: Private Collection





















Title: The Swimming Hole
Artist: Thomas Eakins
Year: 1885
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 27 3/8 x 36 3/8 in, (69.5 x 92.4 cm)
Location: Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas




























Title: The Red Kerchief: Portrait of Camille Monet
Artist: Claude Monet
Year: 1873
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 39 x 31 1/4 in, (99 x 79.3 cm)
Location: The Cleveland Museum of Art




















Title: Venus of Urbino
Artist: Titian
Year: 1538
Medium: Oil on canvas
Dimensions: 47 in × 65 in, (119 cm × 165 cm)
Location: Uffizi, Florence




























Title: The Ebbo Gospels~St. Matthew
Artist: Unknown / Carolingian art
Year: c 816-835
Medium: Ink and tempera on vellum
Dimensions: 10 1/4" x 8 3/4"
Location: Bibliotheque Municipale, Epernay

Monday, March 1, 2010

Happy Thanksgiving; Not So Much...

For Thanksgiving we got invited to have dinner with some of his friends. I knew there would be one other military wife there, but mostly it would be a bunch of other Marines. I knew immediately that this was going to be a bad situation. He always acted crazy around other Marines, as if he had just cause to not trust me. I always wondered why he didn't trust me; after all he was the one that cheated, not me. Alright, I did cheat, but I never got caught.... and it was before we actually got married. He had no idea, so therefore he had no technical reason to distrust me. I never flirted around with other men, and I never acted out in any way to make another man flirt with me. I was always very quite and most of the time didn't even make eye contact with other Marines; I tried to avoid all interaction and conversation as well. I did my best to only speak to the wives, but often his friends would politely try to include me in the conversation. Although I truly appreciated their kindness, it was guaranteed to cause me more grief in the end. I had been through this kind of situation with him way too many times before. I wanted to stay home so badly because I knew it would be a painful, embarrassing, and disastrous situation for me. However, staying home was not an option. He promised me this time things would be different; that he would behave and treat me properly. The entire ride to his friends house I felt sick to my stomach. I was doing my best to emotionally prepare myself for what I was about to endure. After arriving we went through the typical meeting and greeting of everyone, which was expected, that was the only social interaction that I was permitted. After introductions I spent most of my time in the kitchen with the other wife helping with dinner, and all the female duties that were expected. Things were going quite well until we all gathered together for dinner. Once seated everyone began talking and often times I got addressed. I had never met any of these people before and they were all curious of the who, what, when, where, and why of me. I tried to respond as politely as I could without really conversing. It was not enough, I began receiving crude comments and vicious looks from my husband. Although I truly had done nothing wrong, somehow I was still in trouble. He began verbally degrading and humiliating me very loudly in front of everyone. Saying things to the other Marines like: "She's easy, just take her upstairs and she will show you all a good time" and "She's nothing but a whore anyway." The verbal abuse and devaluing lasted for several hours. Although it was totally expected of him I could never understand how or why it happened. It was like someone flipped a switch and he would just go from typical husband to psychopath instantly. Nothing he said made sense and he would act totally irrational about everything. The craziest part was no one ever said anything, they would all just sit there silently. I quickly realized that this was acceptable behavior, it was the norm in the world of the Marines. Up to this point every other wife I had met, if brave enough to talk about her life and relationship, confessed she was abused.

Eventually we left his friend house and began the trip home. I was emotionally drained and anxious to get home. Although I knew the abuse would continue, at least the group humiliation experience would be over; at least this particular one anyway. Once we got home he apologized for all of his cruel and hurtful behavior. It was the typical "It will not happen ever again," "I am so sorry," and "I love you and I just don't want to lose you." After repeated incidents such as this one I did not believe a word of anything he said, but I would pretend to buy it just so I would not have to endure any further torture. The drama appeared to be over, I was hoping he would just pass out and I would be home free. Then he tried to have sex with me and I refused. After all he had just put me through the last thing I wanted to do was give myself to him, or be close to him in anyway. I knew my refusal would undoubtedly cost me a beating. The verbal abuse was almost instantaneous. As I begged and pleaded for him to "just please leave me alone and let me go to sleep," he became more aggressive and more violent. He got up out of bed and began throwing things at me and punching the walls. I got up and went into the other room to try and avoid any further conflict, but he followed. At times I could just ignore him and take it all, agreeing and playing along just to make it stop. Other times I just could not compromise myself any further and I would scream the brutal honest truth of my unhappiness at him.

I'd had enough this particular night and I proceeded to tell him the brutal truth. I revealed to him that the only reason I was still there is because I had no way of getting out; I was too far from home and I had no friends or resources to help me. I ignorantly but honestly shouted out "I want a divorce, I am unhappy." He completely snapped. He charged at me, grabbed me by the throat, and slammed me up against the wall. I hit the wall so hard it knocked the wind out of me, I was crying and knew my actions would have severe consequences. He got right in my face and began screaming, "I will kill you before I ever let you leave me." I foolishly replied, " I don't love you anymore." He then hit me several times, spit directly in my face, and slammed me against the wall again. Only this time he was not letting go, he kept squeezing harder and harder. I could feel myself getting faint and I began kicking trying to get him to let go. I couldn't breathe, I was getting really scared. That's the last thing I remember, until waking up in the floor with him standing over top of me crying. When I awoke I was disoriented and unsure of how I ended up in the floor. For a few moments I could not remember anything. He was crying and hugging me, apologizing as usual. Once I gained my senses enough to realize what had really happened I pushed him away. I hated him, I didn't want him anywhere near me. My refusal of him and his apology angered him and he snapped again. He grabbed me by the hair and drug me across the floor into the kitchen. I was fighting to get back on my feet, but quickly figured out it didn't matter how much I struggled I would never gain the upper hand. As I lay in the floor crying I could hear him shuffling through the kitchen drawers. Then suddenly he yanked me up off the floor by my hair and held a kitchen knife to my throat. He cornered me against the sink with it; at the same time shouting "I can end this all right now." He began pressing it harder and harder against my throat, I could feel it beginning to cut me. I kept trying to lean backward into the sink to get away, but he kept pushing harder and harder. I screamed, "Please don't kill me, I love you." He stopped, threw the knife in the sink, grabbed me by the hair, and threw me into the floor. At this point I was not sure which was hurting more, my injuries from the beatings or my pride from having to compromise my true feelings in order to survive. I hated him more and more with each moment, so much that it literally made me sick to have to say the words "I Love You" to him. As I lay on the kitchen rug, crying with my hands over my head, he knelt down over top of me and began trying to touch me. I immediately said, "Leave me alone." He ignored me and continued trying to touch and talk to me. Again I shouted, "Go away, leave me alone." He grabbed me by the back of the hair, slammed my head against the kitchen floor, and screamed "You fucking bitch I should have just killed you." Then he got up and walked away, leaving the room entirely. Just as quickly as it all had begun, it was suddenly over. I continued to lay on the floor crying; my head throbbing and spinning.

I slept in the kitchen floor that night. I wanted to remain as far away from him as I possibly could. I truly and honestly hated him. Any feelings that I may have once had for him had literally been beaten out of me. I knew that I didn't want to be with him anymore, but I had no way to escape. I always dreamt of the day that I could somehow gain control and take my own life back; the day that I could once again be free to be alive without being punished for it.