I refuse to get on twitter. I wont even get on twitter as a "virtual tweeter" with a "screenname" never mind as my real self. There are a couple of reasons for this- I'm not good at expressing myself in 140 characters, don't want 400 "followers" am not interested in commercial tweets, and refuse to buy into the illusion that my followers are my friends. (On a tangent, I pulled the myspace profile and haven't heard from my 91 "friends" since: ah intimacy!) I got on facebook, under my real name, and as a social obligation since people can no longer speak to one another in person. I'd estimate that no more than 1/3rd of my 416 "facebook friends" would give a hoot if I pulled the plug there.
Anyhow, back to twitter, tweeting and general tweetness. A friend of mine recently pointed to a story at
http://www.theawl.com/2009/11/what-were-black-people-talking-about-on-twitter-last-nightEvidently, there is a tweet channel called "what were black people talking about on twitter last night?" Glancing through the screenshot, where all four posts were hypersexualized ghetto slang on how to tell if you're having bad sex ("If she leaves before you even get the condom off" is my personal favorite and I have no doubt that some women would do this with men and then wonder why men get pissed at them), I had a thought: if a Martian landed and its first exposure to Blacks was that twitter page, it may sign up for the KKK.
I never met a Black person until I was 8 years old and on a trip to New Orleans. I did not go to segregated schools. My family did not have slaves or their modern day equivalents, nannies/housekeepers (if you're ever on the upper west side of manhattan you will see legions of hatian and jamaican women pushing around white kids in strollers). I hate all people equally and must say that I'm proud to do so. I'll do my best to treat you individually.
Of course, I still have my physical preferences, I'm still generally more attracted to black women than white still submit to some black women in a way I don't to most white women but what I don't/won't do is to make race the center of interactions. I want to know you as a person.
This is a noble goal but not one easily achieved in the internet age or in online bdsm "relationships" which basically amount to virtual shopping sprees amid false declarations of love between two people who could care less about one another. (My personal favorite example of this was several days of intense hypnosis and emotional bonding followed by "sacrifice for me" which is dommespeak for cash. I could have sent 40 cents on paypal and be done with it but instead I explained, futily, once more, that I want to be viewed as more than just a cash machine.) Additionally, and madamkuro touched on this, you can sit at home, jerking off and professing your devotion to 30 dommes at the same time via yahoo messenger. [And you can sit at home, gab with your girlfriends, look at handbags online and make fun of 30 people professing their devotion to you while taking their money and professing your "love" for them. Nikki once asked if I thought she sent goodnight messages to everyone. To be honest, I think if you had a pulse, the right phrases to use and some green, you too could get a goodnight message. Given how quickly she washed her hands of me its obvious I never mattered to her no matter what she said otherwise for two straight years.]
Of course, as said before, this whole cash for love scheme is a parasitic one. The one with the cash is the boss. I mean, if I said "nikki lets have lunch. I'll pay you $100,000.00 for it." we would be having lunch. Now, this means that you're trading your body and soul and being for cash [or the promise of cash since online subs are generally full of shit. I strived to be different but hey, different doesn't pay. Being honest, true, vulnerable, real, etc etc just gets you text messages mocking you for being depressed when your grandmother dies. Right? :] And you're trading it to people who have the cash.
Who has a lot of cash in America? Generally, white people. Generally, suburban white people. Generally, suburban white people whose most meaningful interactions with nonwhite people is ordering Chinese delivery. Now, generally, these white people, who are married to other white people, have fantasies about black people because its something strange and unknown to them and mystery in life is often a turn on. So they get online and see this:
She is smoking hot right? (Neat voice too.) But what do you know about her? Do you know her hobbies? Her hopes, dreams, fears? Her frigging name? No. You know an anonymous black girl with big titties whom you can pay, by the minute, to get you off. She is a service to you, no different from the Chinese food. [Not the deliveryman but the food itself. She is a consumable product. You feast on her body for your own selfish purposes and she lets you because she is getting money and therefore having her needs met as well.] She is a cartoon to you. You're an abstraction to her. If you're Mr. Smith in Nassau county and your sole contact with black people is as described, you're gonna be an [unintentionally] racist prick. After you're done with her its off to
and you know what you want there as well. While paying for her, you'll pay a few bucks to see
and that person's video says you can buy her used bras. So you do and jerk off to them. Hey, its your money. Do you know these women? No. Do you even know their names? No. Do you care? No. To you, they are a foreign object, a "different" flavor, an experiment. You feel entitled (hey its your money and its not like titties are a special skill. These women don't bring anything new to the table that you can't get elsewhere.) You have no qualms about using these women. They have no qualms about using you.
So lets say that after a couple of weeks/months/years of hiding in his attic and spending his kids' college fund on the above, Mr. Smith gets really randy and decides that he wants to see some honest to goodness actual black people. In person. So he goes out to Harlem where he imagines all black people must live. He sees an attractive black woman and starts thinking of her the same way he thought of these internet gals. She may be a doctor, she may be a piano player genius, she may be whatever, but to Mr. Smith she is no different from the girls Mr. Smith has been using and has been used by for so long. And its not all Mr. Smith's fault.
It's also her fault:
And hers:
And hers:
Getting online means thinking that you're in a bubble. Ending a relationship is as easy as turning off messenger and blocking a user id. Nobody is real to you. Everyone is an expandable. But what you do and say will still linger
Tags: "dommes", "friends", black women, financial domination, one night stands, online, race, reality, relationships, twitter
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aboynamedyes's journal
