Tag Archives: sex

Caveat Emptor – Social Media Influence, the Frye Fest and Reputation Management

This is not an echo of these words of P. T. Barnum – “As a general thing, I have not ‘duped thePT-barnum world’ nor attempted to do so… I have generally given people the worth of their money twice told.”, but rather these “Every crowd has a silver lining.”

Every generation has a Bernie Madoff, a Kenneth Lay, a Donald Trump who beguile the seekers of vast wealth, inclusion, distraction or any combination thereof to part with their money.

For Millennials, at least for this end of April 2017 weekend, it seems that person is Ja Rule, née Jeffrey Atkins, rapper, and creator of Bahamian Ponzi Scheme also known as the Frye Music Festival*** 2 May update – Federal Trade Commission violations cited and lawsuit filed.

Like so many before him Ja Rule was successful in his scam (or “not a scam” as he claims) for two reasons, he understood the raw vulnerability of the masses (even privileged ones willing to spend upwards of $250,000) and created a compelling campaign leveraging LOTS of young beautiful women (gaining more than 800k views) whose only claim to fame is to have built very successful personal brands making them social media influencers as a means of monetizing that vulnerability for personal gain.

frye

The influencers (I think the term shills is more appropriate) among them Kendall Jenner (nearly 22m Twitter followers),  Bella Hadid (more than 750k Twitter followers), Em Rata (more than 1m Twitter followers) made out like bandits with paychecks reported to being $250,000 to stand around, or lounge in bathing suits adorning the eye with a promise of ‘come play with me’. Using Instagram they promoted, and promoted, and promoted and in doing so the money poured in. Sex, as ever, sells.

Kendall Jenner made 250K off of promoting #fryefest ,

Yesterday, April 28th, Ja Rule (allegedly) tweeted and someone posted a screen grab to Instagram that the Frye Festival was all a big ‘social experiment’ to test the mettle of participants in a Hunger Games like scenario of adversity. (Some of the related posts include drinking their own urine to survive.)

#fryefestival • Instagram

Time will tell how short the memory of the public is, and whether by association these women have negatively impacted their credibility and their future earnings, and whether Ja Rule will be the subject of both a Class Action lawsuit and criminal charges for fraud.

This goes back to my last post, less than a week old, about ethics and reputation management. The nature of social media is that everything good or bad plays out in real-time. In our Wild, Wild West of social platforms there is broader issue for Twitter and Instagram and Facebook to consider – if ‘sponsored content’ results in an abuse of the public trust by hosting the influence peddling content are you complicit?, and if so, are you culpable?, should you distance your business further from such content and somehow shift the juncture of revenue generation? If a post subsequently results in bullying, terrorism, human trafficking, stalking, domestic violence, fraud, wrongful death, or murder have your policies enabled such to take place? Will any of these potential tragic events subsequently amplified to audiences approaching 600 million people globally result in lawsuits for ‘pain and suffering’? Corporate communications professionals should be involved in risk assessment, and not simply for the sake of reputation management or avoiding crisis management. I hope that this weekend legal, executive and communications teams at various social companies are meeting to develop (or expand) policies and legal protections.

The public clamors for social influencers to more carefully examine their choices of endorsement deals, a fairy tale ending which will never happen. It is the idolization of the rich and infamous which brought these individuals to Exuma and they need to take personal responsibility for their choices.

In closing, Caveat Emptor

If you enjoy my blog please consider ‘buying me a cup of tea’ in your currency via PayPal to livelikeadog@gmail.com and then, please do share the blog with your friends on Facebook, Google+ and Twitter – I am @TeresaFritschiTo order my book, please click on the cover art of my book below, thank you! 

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Dalmatian Echoes

rain drops, sun-bleached stonedalmatia

darkened seas tossed in violence

terrifying gods ignite the sky, scream angry words in unknown languages

windows shuttered, stories bidden

flickering light, something held at distance, now in proximity lovers

decay, renewal, one – or both

kneel, clutch, embrace, drowning that rescues

her shuddering response beneath his surrounding, burrowing warmth

discovery of self in the other

parched. hungry. greedy – like the earth

primal continuation, cognitive exploration, Tantric at-one-ment

in waves, nourishment came – yet again and again

fingering Spanish chords, his thoughts echoed through her body

a thousand years of her words stilled, caught, unexpressed

fingers entwined

racing hearts in syncopation, quieting to soft harmonies

with hair like Samson, he anointed himself with their sex

If you enjoy my blog please consider ‘buying me a cup of tea’ in your currency via PayPal to livelikeadog@gmail.com and then, please do share the blog with your friends on Facebook, Google+ and Twitter – I am @TeresaFritschiTo order my book, please click on the cover art of my book below, thank you! 

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Remains

dexterity

Grégoire Cachemaille Photography Mirror mirror on the wall 2013

Mirror mirror on the wall, 2013, Grégoire Cachemaille

chilling dispatch

what remains of sex

roué

flaccid vessel

mirrors your empty soul

 a thousand regrets

forsaken heart

my cup drains onto linen

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Whores, courtesans and the rest of womankind

First, let me be clear, every woman has a brain. She has overt or subtle sexuality and her own unique way of expressing her sensuality. She can be celibate, a seductress AND a mom madonna-whoresimultaneously (so please throw the Madonna/whore perception out with the bath water). And, despite the current assault of radical Christians and fundamentalist Muslims alike, we do not need to have our bodies regulated by legal framework, shaming (and stoning or beheading) or in the courts.  A woman should be able to walk around topless, as men are often seen, should she so desire without fear of molestation. She should certainly never have to worry about being raped as many as 40 times a day (please sign the petition to right a still festering very old wrong) – simply because she is a woman!

I am spurred on by watching the most recent season of the American reality TV show The Bachelor where I was struck by the fact that two women (Renee and Cassandra who are single moms) were consistently referred to as “my special ones” by the bachelor Juan Pablo Galavis, other women, Andi and Sharleen, were clearly respected for their brains while others fell into the hot, hot, hot category and frankly seemed to be taken merely for their sexuality.  I am not buying into the damage control storyline that Juan Pablo was linguistically challenged (to explain his repeated faux pas) in English but I do believe that he both loves women and can also be a horrible misogynist at times.  Every woman comes across a guy exactly like Juan Pablo at least once in her dating career – eye candy but lacking in so many ways – but the contrast between him and sean-lowe-catherine-giudici-desiree-hartsock(super respectful)  Chris Siegfried and Sean Lowe of previous seasons was so astonishing that Disney-owned ABC’s producers must be more than a little embarrassed for getting their choice so wrong.

So I am writing about my gender, unified by our having vaginas, differentiated by how men have perceived and treated us over thousands of years, (the rise in female genital mutilation #FGM is a whole different post to be written), and the distinction between whores, courtesans and the rest of womankind that has sex (however frequently or infrequently).

For the sake of argument let’s assume that the hypothetical whore in this conversation has chosen her own path, that she was not abducted, sold via the global human trafficking networks, nor was she a child runaway with a pimp that keeps her on drugs and beats her on a regular basis – a woman such as Heidi Fleiss (or Pretty Woman prostitute as portrayed by Julia Roberts) I think ‘the idea’ that a woman, any woman, could sell her body by HER Mary-MagdCHOICE (despite the very real dangers involved) is what has scared men senseless since Biblical times (perhaps earlier).   A whore exists strictly to accommodate the demand for sex, in all its various permutations, another commodity in the world’s economic systems (umm, wrong) but she can be morally redeemed.  The tie of our feminine wisdom, ability to bring forth life that we know is our own child (never any doubt of who the mother is) as well as healing capacity dating back tens of thousands of years combined with the fact that women have twice as many nerve endings in our genitalia as men has caused us no end of difficulties with males.  That we still find men attempting legislate when and with whom a woman has sex only serves to underscore this fear of the ‘first original sin’ somehow (these) men would punish us for not loving them for all their inconsistencies and foibles or for our being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And then,

“I am like a guy, sexually,” I’d told a therapist I’d seen a couple times the year before – […] “What’s a guy like?” he’d asked. “Detached,” I said. “Or many of them are, anyway. I’m like that too.  Capable of being detached when it comes to sex.”

~ Cheryl Strayed, describing herself, page 131, Wild

A woman who can (seemingly) treat sex as casually as (some) men do I think is generally being driven to such behavior by one of two scenarios – to feel something, anything (to be validated if only briefly) or to numb some kind of pain perpetrated in childhood.  In other words, she makes risky life choices rather than to become whole by doing the hard work necessary to overcome something quite horrible in her past.  I have witnessed ‘the hunger’ for having a lover and the pursuit of sexual attention most of my adult life (I have ever been the girlfriend you take along to get you out, keep you company and make sure you get home if you don’t “get lucky”) and it is painful.

venice

Modern Courtesans by http://tynesphoto.zenfolio.com/

I have two very dear girlfriends both highly intelligent and attractive women in the 40s at the cusp of their individual professional successes who give off palpable hunter energy (the goddess Diana, without the virginal aspect). One of these two women expresses (if only figuratively speaking) that in a past lifetime she was Veronica Franco.  (I am also writing a book about love that includes historical examples of these extraordinary women) – let’s be clear, a courtesan, and likewise the Geisha, was amply compensated for the delightful company which her brain offered, her ample hostessing skills, her ability to play a musical instrument or recite poetry and the salon which she maintained. She didn’t necessarily have sex (she decided who she wished to take as a lover, not her male guests, and sex was an option financially negotiated for exclusivity often with a lifetime annuity at termination).

In an way, these women, such as  La Païva (Esther Pauline Thérèse Lachmann, Mme Villoing, Mme la Marquise de Païva, Countess Henckel von Donnersmarck), whose circumstances might have forced them to become demimondaine were also the ultimate feminists of their day – always the height of elegance in speech and manner, erudite, well read, pamela harrimanmultilingual, well dressed (including jewels), very, very wealthy, acutely aware of international politics and intrigues, and often times orchestrating world events Pamela Harriman might be the most well-known example of such a woman in recent history (her life boggles my imagination! Read the biography).

A woman can love men without taking them as her lovers or of thinking of particular ones if she masturbating (and her ability to be on intimate and satisfying terms with her own body surely makes some percentage of the male population uncomfortable).  But, should she leverage her knowledge of a man for her pleasure it is hers alone.  As a male friend once expressed the fantasy of making love can be as fabulous as our imaginations, and reality is often a very different thing.

So my point is that without any commercial aspect (and in this regard whores and courtesans fall into the same category) involving men and women alike we really must cease distinguishing women by categories. A woman, because she has been placed upon an illusionary marble plinth, in exercising her passions, for having normal sexual desires, should never experience a fall from grace – that is someone else’s problem, not hers.

If you enjoy my blog please share it with your friends on Facebook, Google+ and Twitter – I am @TeresaFritschiTo order my book, please click on the cover art of my book below, thank you! 

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cover art by Iain Clark, Glasgow Scotland

The ‘muscle memory’ of Anahata

ImageA social media acquaintance of mine of some renown, Edel O’Mahony, offered this fabulous meme on Facebook, and the contents of this blog post come about because of her words.

Our souls are always on a path to reunite with perfection – however imperfect we might perceive ourselves to be, never doubt we are worthy of this. The state of ‘at-one-ment’ as I call it… is our most natural state of ‘being’.  The “remembrance” which Edel references so eloquently is the spiritual equivalent of an athlete’s ‘muscle memory’ save for the fact that athlete or ordinary Jane or Joe alike we all can come to ‘be’ in this state of grace with desire, calm and practice perhaps but no special training.

I believe that most of us forget everything important for us to really know, the things we already knew as a soul before we were born into our physical and current human life, by age 3. The so called Indigo Child might hold onto these treasures a little longer – in fact into adulthood if an environment of tolerance, nurturance and awareness can be sustained despite the obvious obstacles of ‘mainstream’ society.

But this, the remembrance of being, I think is visceral – cellular memory – and ethereal as a mind function. That the mind is outside of our physical being and not in our brain is increasingly addressed by thought leaders, at scientific symposiums and in research alike.Image

Anahata – at once the consciousness of love, empathy, selflessness as much as to “be love” (not to be in love) and to accept the reality of divine actions both in our lives as well as guiding us toward ‘at-one-ment’.  When our Anahata (heart) chakra is aligned we feel ‘it’ as spinning white light right beneath the sternum – or, at least I do. This powerful ‘perfection’ and connection, a resonance with a single person or all of mankind, is an awesome blessing. Who wouldn’t want to exist in a state of perpetuity of such? I think it is easy to misconstrue this energy as something attained through physical consummation in the form of sex.  Yes, it can be, certainly between two partners fully evolved, conscious of the gifting of their energy (and not taking, taking, taking) to create a completed circuit without beginning or end.  Their climax being an expression of universal love as much as for one another.  Yet, being without such a partner should not dissuade you from the very real possibility of feeling Anahata as a consummation of your ‘self’ with the light, functioning in it, being a vehicle for its expression. It would be lovely to have this state be uninterrupted but for the fact that its power is so overwhelming that we mere human forms ill-equipped physically to function at this higher level of consciousness and still be “of this world”.  For myself, I recognise that as it comes to me I am moved to tears of gratitude for knowing such – however fleeting.  My time, and yours, to permanently reunite in this universal love will come, perhaps tomorrow or in twenty years. It is how we journey and live at the edge of this grace that determines how frequently we are used as a vehicle for its expression – habit begets renewal – but I don’t ‘know’ that it can be achieved as simply as turning on a lightswitch.

A friend shared a video that almost comes into my being as a prayer (I hope it finds resonance with you as well) – I won’t deny that at nearly 10 minutes you really need to be in a place of wanting to understand, or need a smack upside the head to remind you of who you really are.  The cinematography is stunning, the narrators’ voice is nearly hypnotic, you’ll want to watch it a couple of times – and bookmark it because truly unless you know what you are looking for you won’t find it a second time (and even as I did it still took me going back through all my Facebook and Twitter feeds and that of the friend that shared it, plus our private chat session to find it).

Being still does not mean don’t move. It means move in peace. ~ E’yen A. Gardner

There’s so much noise about finding peace that it is hard to imagine how anyone does!  You can’t shut down the world around you, no matter how many sensory deprivation (isolation tank) sessions you sign up for.  Regardless of your path to realise the truest essence of your being – your soul – with sweat lodges, meditation, yoga, reading volumes of sacred texts, prayer, silence, harmonic resonance with Tibetan bowls, to find peace within, and ensure it is also without, it begins as the folk song goes begins with the self.

If you enjoy my blog please consider “buying me a cup of tea” in your currency via PayPal at livelikeadog@gmail.com and do share it with your friends on Facebook, Google+ and Twitter – I am @TeresaFritschiTo order my book, please click on the cover art of my book below, thank you! 

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Seeking, and finding, the elusive soulmate

Image

The Red Balloon, 1956 Oscar winning film by French filmmaker Albert Lamorisse, found its soul mate! Click image to watch.

Our condition as living beings demands connection, and to some degree or another we are all seeking the elusive resonance with another person that is generally referred to as finding our soulmate. Some, I am not one of them, can ‘settle’ just to be able to feel, to have a partner in life’s activities, to have a bedmate for sex, or someone to bitch at – how can this be ‘enough’?

An acquaintance made through OKCupid has written two drafts of a paper for publication that he enthusiastically has shared with me – I am very flattered – for myself there is a single sentence that stands out from amongst the current 3,000+ words:

A soul mate is not an object, it is a state of being.

~ R.S.

This, I love. A soul mate is a state of being.

This isn’t “The Secret” but, THE SECRET!  The fullness of being necessary for ourselves and without which we cannot be in a state of preparedness of our being to resonate or recognise its ‘other’ (or as RS points out the potential of many others over the course of our lifetimes).

Love is the only just and holy war. Two friends pledge loyal opposition to one another. I vow I will defend the integrity of my separate being and respect the integrity of your being. We will meet only as equals; I will present myself in fullness of being and will expect the same of you. I will not cower, apologize or condescend. Our covenant will be to love one another justly and powerfully; to establish inviolable boundaries; to respect our separate sanctuaries. We will remain joined in the sweet agony of dialogue, the contest of conversation, the dialectic of love until we arrive at synthesis.

—Fire in the Belly: On Being A Man© Sam Keen, 1992

There are few and rare people who find in one another (despite distractions) the perfection of their being and love with their partner.  I am just finishing reading Marilyn Yalom’s fantastic How the French Invented Love, Nine Hundred Years of Passion and Romance which has lead me to further explore the 50 year relationship of Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir.  But first, as Ms. Yalom quotes at the beginning of chapter fourteen:

My love, you and I are one, and I feel that I am you as much as you are me.

Image~ Simone de Beauvoir to Jean-Paul Sartre, October 8, 1939

 Never have I felt so forcefully that our lives have no meaning outside of our love.

Jean-Paul Sartre to Simone de Beauvoir, November 15, 1939

They were far from perfect, after a decade it seems that their intense sexual energy for each other abated, they each took lovers, transparently shared every detail with the other, there was (as the expression goes) “collateral damage” from their threesomes, and pain for Simone especially when Jean-Paul ‘got too close’ in prolonged affairs that encroached on what was theirs, yet, as Colette Audry, a teaching colleague of Beauvoir’s in the 1930s, wrote of them: “Theirs was a new kind of relationship, and I had never seen anything like it. I cannot describe what it was like to be present when those two were together. It was so intense that sometimes it made others who saw it sad not to have it.” They were committed without the formal legal framework of marriage for fifty years and yet wound up sharing a single grave in Cimetière du Montparnasse in Paris.

For a tiny bit more on Sartre and de Beauvoir I suggest you start here and then if interested you can expand your reading and also watch this documentary.

My point is that sometimes ‘it just happens’ as it did to Sartre and de Beauvoir when they were 21 and 23, it, as the French express – coup de foudre, happens when Imagesomeone ‘sees’ you for who you really are.   I don’t think this can happen until you are really ready to be seen and doesn’t (necessarily) require a physical connection to express the truest intimacy that you can imagine existing.  Our transparency isn’t verbal or emotional, it is energetic – the tuning fork which finds us inexplicably drawn to other people that make us more as a result of being ‘with’ them.

Aristotle wrote:

The whole is more than the sum of its parts.

Then what makes us stay up at night, or rise early, to simply witness a lover sleep, denying sleep and work, commitments, and other friends to spend ten more minutes (or ten more hours) talking to them because the cup truly runneth over in the place that is uniquely ‘yours’ and to cease the sharing of thoughts, music, books and life means to stop living altogether (or so it seems) is all part of the equation.  

Over and over during the course of the last 10 months I have woken in the middle of the night, and it has always been because a man in a different time zone on the other side of the planet has just sent some kind of digital message to me. I am not responding to the input of their message but the energy of their thoughts toward me that prompted them to reach out to me in the first place.  I respond because the connection between us has become hardwired on my circuitry – the intensity of these ‘awakenings’ seem to be happening ever more frequently so I have to believe I am ‘getting closer’ to the convergence of metaphysical and physical.  I hope you are also so blessed.

If you enjoy my blog please consider ‘buying me a cup of tea’ in your currency via PayPal to livelikeadog@gmail.com and do share it with your friends on Facebook, Google+ and Twitter – I am @TeresaFritschiTo order my print or ebook from Amazon, please click on the cover art of my book, ebook also available through Barnes & Noble and Lulu, thank you! 

Sorry, I am busy living

On Facebook this last week:

“Is it just me or is anyone else out there tired of hearing about “blood flow” while trying to watch football?” to which I commented: “Well, um, the language is synergistic to the male view of ‘sport’ so it’s not incongruous but the NFL and its ad department doesn’t seem to factor in that women do watch baseball, football and so forth and appealing to that market segment MIGHT result in more sex without the need of “little blue pills”!”

The American culture is driven by enhancing performance (and healthy men who don’t have an issue with ED seem not to understand this is a drug that has serious consequences if they use it), as well as bigger breasts and smaller bodies, a society obsessed with getting to wherever faster in the biggest car (namely its original price tag), displaying net worth capable of feeding entire villages in third world nations for months and yet, still, never ever being satisfied. In this, the contrast offered by the Croatian concept of pomalo has resonance for me.

ImageI first read about pomalo in a National Geographic Traveler article by Paul Kvinta in 2011 – and from my perspective, pomalo seems to offer the perfect balance between productivity and living.  I have a folder filled with articles from magazines with interesting places to visit (yes, a folder, not a special Pinterest board and not a folder on my computer).  Within the folder, for many years, has been an article about UNESCO World Heritage site Plitvice Lakes (Croatia, smaller than the state of West Virginia can boast of seven extraordinary UNESCO sites and I, who can feel the energy of things ancient, am being pulled eastward to stand in a state of reverence amidst great cultural significance). I had not thought much lately about either the Plitvice Lakes or Mr. Kvinta’s journey along the Dalmatian coast of the Adriatic until this week – when I met Marijan through OKCupid. Marijan like Jure Kvinta, (Paul’s “cousin”), seriously understands the art of living, a cellular level of being that strikes me as being uniquely Slavic, that, if I am honest, leaves the French and their joie de vivre in the dust and makes my fellow Americans appear rather pathetic in our obsessions!

It is touching in the extreme to be able to express the widest range of my emotions and thoughts and words and have a man not cringe at the sight of tears, or change the subject to diffuse them, with whom our a common sense of humor can bridge vastly different cultural backgrounds and, some might say, chronological ages, a deep understanding of universal energy – recognizing the high frequency vibrational nature of our beings and that in putting more out “there” it will be replenished in the extreme for the giving. Most intoxicating to date is the re-introduction of pomalo – the actual living of life which is given priority. He doesn’t live to work, but works to have (enough) to live, fully. The time he makes for reading my words (and his understanding that my blog posts serve as a kind of user manual for dealing with me, the very first man to so understand!) as well as the time he spends teaching me about his country and letting me come to know him is a blessed sanctuary.

Least your perception of Croatia and its people be one of a laxity about more practical matters – theirs is a society rich in innovation, think Nikola Tesla – yes, the scientist whose name is now an electric car marque, as well as considerable commercial success with global brands such as Red Bull and Maglite.  (Marijan has informed me that Viagra is increasingly being marketed within Croatia; soon, it seems, no couple will be content to take their time with lovemaking in their more senior years!)

I am a firm believer in listening to my messages – something rather vague that is perhaps best captured (at least in spirit) to “the sly wind blew in from the north” in the movie ChocolatChocolat with Juliette Binoche.  Like Binoche’s character Vianne Rocher I have been gypsy-like (in my more recent past less so, but my wanderlust has been itching painfully without direction for a considerable length of time).  I haven’t been comfortable with my being exclusively American rather than a global citizen for many years, but with my personal equivalent of that “wind from the north”, I am gaining clarity around the twisty-turn road that is my journey and I am pretty sure the philosophy of pomalo has a dominate role in my future.

If you enjoy my blog please consider ‘buying me a cup of tea’ in your currency via PayPal to livelikeadog@gmail.com and do share it with your friends on Facebook, Google+ and Twitter – I am @TeresaFritschiTo order my book, please click on the cover art of my book below, thank you! 

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