JamesSavik

I don't know how to approach this topic. It's ugly so be warned that it's not going anywhere nice. If you're going to freak out, change to the Disney channel. Adult content. Violence. Very, very fucked up situations. No parent in their right mind would want you to know that this shit happens. ____________________________________________________________ I'm going to tell you a story about an 18 year old freshman. He was really excited to go to college. He was going where his dad went to school. He was relieved to get away from where he went to high school because he had been harassed and humiliated for years for being gay. It was a new start with new people. It was really good for him. He never asked to be the town fag. It would be nice to meet people that hadn't already made up their mind about him. He left it all behind: the drugs, the booze, the humiliation. He went to orientation and met a nice kid from Tupelo and they decided to room together. They were in different majors but they were a good match sharing the same weird hybrid geek/jock thing. They went back home, packed and came back to college to set up their dorm room. They met the guys on their floor. They made a lot of friends, they had fun, they threw the football around- all was going well. Classes started and our freshman applied himself. He was diligent about his studies. He did his homework. People noticed that he was smart. A group of pledges to one of the fraternities on campus asked him to join their study group. He didn't really know anything about fraternities but the kids were nice and sincere about doing well, so he joined them every Tuesday and Thursday night to study calculus and chemistry. All was going well until until October. The upper class men came through to harass their pledges. He wasn't one so he was immune but they talked to him, asked him where he was from and so on. He didn't know what he was setting himself up for. The pledges told him that the frat might ask him to pledge. He wasn't sure. He didn't like the way they treated their pledges and he wasn't all that excited about it. He saw someone that looked familiar to but he couldn't place him. There was a big football game that weekend. The team was playing one of its big rivals. The frat pledges invited him to the party. He asked if he could bring his room mate Howard and they said sure. When he got back to the dorm, Howard said he was going home that weekend so he was on his own for the weekend. That Saturday afternoon the football team got rolled by Southern Miss 42-14. The atmosphere wasn't especially festive but he was curious about the frat so he showed up about 8:00. He was wearing white tennis shorts and Maroon Izod shirt. He fit right in. There was booze and girls and he got the feeling that some of the guys were actually trying to get him hammered. Before everyone got falling down drunk the potential pledges were given a tour of the house. It was a beautiful colonial mansion on frat row with all the amenities. It was obvious to him that this was a playhouse for rich kids and he had very little in common with them. Their casual use of the words faggot and n****r made him wince. He was beginning to realize that these weren't very nice people. When the tour was over he was asked to go upstairs. One of the upperclassmen said that the chapter president wanted to thank him for helping their pledges with their classes. He followed his escort up to a room and went inside. The door closed behind him and he found myself face to face their five very large guys. Their ring leader was the big fat guy that looked familiar. The fat guy said remember me? He shook his head and said no- you look familiar but I can't place you. The leader said- I'm Josh Farmer. Brad's older brother. His stomach turned to ice. Brad Farmer had been a bully that he had fought three different times. He had won because Brad was a dumb ass who expected to beat up a weak fag but it hadn't worked out that way. He turned to rush for the door but strong hands grabbed him and turned him back to Josh. Josh said we don't take kindly to faggots sniffing around our pledges. I owe you for kicking my brothers ass three times and I owe you for the beatings my dad gave Brad for getting his ass kicked by a fag. It started suddenly. Fists were everywhere. He fought back. He elbowed the ass hats that thought they would hold him. He punched, he kicked but it was too much. Fighting back seemed to piss them off. Once he was down they kicked him. His eyes were shut, his nose bleeding, He knew it was bad because it didn't hurt yet. The goon squad left him alone with Josh. Josh stood over him and said you could never be one of us but you are going to be our bitch though. You'll show up to the frat every Wednesday to do laundry and clean up the house. He spit a glob of blood at his tormentor. He said that'll be the day. Josh said you've got a lot of spirit for a bitch. Guess I'll have to break you. Josh tied him up and then anally raped him. He woke up some time later still tied up. Josh was passed out drunk on his bed. It took him a while to get out of the bondage shit. The door was locked so he went out the window. It was in the wee hours of the morning and walking back to the dorms was a challenge. The campus cops confronted him and saw that he was badly beaten. The cop was a good guy. The cop asked if he needed to go to the ER but he declined. The cop drove him to the dorm and got him in without having to be interrogated for coming back after curfew. He got in his bed in his dorm room and passed out. Sunday morning he was awakened by Howard. Jesus Christ, what happened to you!? He couldn't say a word. A tear rolled down his cheek. He hurt so bad he didn't want to move. Howard begged him to go to the Emergency Room but he just shook his head. His emotions were everywhere. He was ashamed. He was angry. He was so humiliated. Men aren't supposed to be raped. He wanted to kill Josh Farmer very, very slowly. Worse still, he would have to see those frat people every day. All he could do is was lay there and cry. Poor Howard had no idea what to do. He got some wash clothes and cleaned up his friend as best he could without moving him around much. Monday morning wasn't much better. Howard helped him out of his clothes and said, Jesus dude, you're bleeding out of your ass! It was dried blood but the damage was done. Howard helped him down the hall and the other kids in the hall saw what a mess he was an were appalled. He got in the shower to wash the filth off but knew he would never really feel clean again. Howard insisted that he go to the student clinic that morning. He went and was confronted with a lot of questions he wouldn't- he couldn't answer. He didn't make it back to classes until Wednesday morning. The frat boys had the story out. The story was that he had come on to somebody at the frat and got his ass righteously beaten. He was done at that college. Howard moved out. Nobody talked to him. He was a pariah again. He finished the semester with a 3.0- good, not great. No one could understand why he didn't come back the next semester. His whole personality changed from a nice, confident kid to a scared, uncomfortable cynical bastard. He became paranoid. His friends at home knew something had gone badly wrong but they could never get him to talk about it. From then on he was drunk or stoned every day. He didn't want to remember his nightmare. He didn't want to think about the friends that he had loved that turned their back on him when he needed them the most. He didn't want to remember what it felt like to be one of the guys because it hurt too much. He pushed his friends away. He got worse and worse. He was angry and hurt all the time and he didn't know what to do about it. Drugs and alcohol were his escape. He put it all in a tiny little box in the back of his mind and willed himself to forget it. ____________________________________________________________________ Thirty-five years later He was reading a story where some macho asshole was telling some kid that he was going to make him his bitch. It set him off in a rage. He fumed, he raged, he remembered. It was me. It is how I got lost. A lot of stuff makes sense now that I could never understand. I'm glad that I didn't remember it sooner. It would have broken me. It still shocks me. I was in a prison of shame that was as strong as any steel. I'm different today. I have the tools and the support that I need to recover and I will. It will take some time. It will take some work but I will. I've come too far to quit now.

I don't know what it's about. I don't really follow trends. Long, ratty beards aren't for me. With my Southern accent, I don't need something that makes me look like a hillbilly.

Answer: When it has been made fabulous! I'm tired of seeing this misunderstood symbol of the spirit of the south being used as a symbol of racism and bigotry. That's NOT what it was ever about. The confederate flag was about making a stand for what you believe in. It's real meaning is courage. It is a legacy that should make us proud, not cringe in disgrace. I like it better this way. It's closer to the original intent because, to be gay in the south takes belief and courage. Take it back. It's our legacy. It belongs to us.

I'm there.

I'm not ready to talk about this too much. I have talked to my sponsor and I've already made an appointment to see someone about this. There was a scene in a story that for lack of a better description LOOKED really, REALLY wrong. The first thing that came out was absolute fury. I was mad as hell and I didn't know why. Then it clicked. The shock of it opened up a repressed memory. The second part hit me like lightening bolt- I remembered what happened like high definition video. I puked. Then I started shaking and crying and then I was in the shower. Full on anxiety attack. Rage. It really messed me up. I know that I can be pretty crazy. At least I'm honest enough to admit it. Discovering something like this is a terrifying experience. When the brain buries something this deep for so long and then let's it out in living color, you have to pay attention to it. I've always felt like I missed something. I believe this is it. Who says reading can't be therapeutic.

If I do say so, James is one of the coolest characters I've met lately.

In some ways I am the same. I don't know about this one. It's a memory long repressed and when it got triggered it really messed me up- I mean it had me raging, sweating, chest pains- 35 years ago and it gave me a full on anxiety attack. I've let a lot of stuff out of the box in my writing. I just don't know how I feel about this one. I probably need to write about it. I'm not sure how others would see me if they read it.

I didn't think that any story could punch my buttons until one did. It reminded me of something that happened a long time ago that I repressed and it just set me off in a horrible rage. Does anyone else have reactions like that?

With my Kroger discount, I paid 1.60 a gallon today.

I had an adventure at the gym last night. I blundered into a four twink orgy in the sauna. Being the gentleman that I am, I excused myself, told them it was cool and that I would stay out in the whirlpool bath and greet anyone else who entered loud enough to warn them. Am I a sweet old fart or whut?

As promised...

it's from my greatest blog hits collection with over 4,000 views.

"Outing" people is, under most circumstances, traumatic and potentially destructive. It can even be dangerous to people. It should only be done only under certain exceptional circumstances. Examples follow and then guidelines. Reverend Ted Haggard, millionaire leader of a mega-church, was a highly influential, outspoken critic of gay people and gay rights. He counseled parents to send their gay kids to pray-the-gay-away camp. He was caught with a hustler and crystal meth. More info: http://en.wikipedia....iki/Ted_Haggard OUT THE BASTARD Rep. Mark Foley never saw a piece of ridiculously anti-gay legislation that he didn't like. He also voted for and authored many bills that created severe penalties for illegal use of a minor. He was caught sending sexy texts to under-aged male pages. He requested that they take pictures of their junk and send it to him.' More info: http://en.wikipedia....l_page_incident OUT THE BASTARD Senator Larry Craig had one of the senates most anti-gay voting records. He was caught soliciting sex from a police officer in a airport mens room. For more info: http://en.wikipedia....y_Craig_scandal OUT THE BASTARD This is Dr. George Rekers(left). He wrote many of the basic scientific papers used by anti-gay hate groups to justify their bigotry. He did a study (federally funded) utilizing negative feedback (aversion therapy) to turn an effeminate male child "masculine". He touted his research with his test subject Craig as a big success. Problem was that Craig was a broken adult and committed suicide just shy of his 35th birthday after a long battle with drug and alcohol addiction and depression. Rekers was a board member of NARTH (National Association for Research & Therapy of Homosexuality) and co-founder of the Family Research Council. Dr. George as he was affectionately called by the board of directors of the Family Research Council (FRC), was the face of scientific credibility for their severely biased anti-gay propaganda. He was caught vacationing with a pretty young twink he met on rentboy.com He claimed to have a bad back and paid the poor deviant boy $5000 to accompany him on vacation so that he could minister to him. The rent-boy(right) didn't really know who Dr. George was. When he found out, he blew the whistle on Reker's lies. It turns out that sex doesn't count as ministering. The quack Doctor George Alan Rekers wrote many books including the steaming piece of crap below. There's no telling how many children have been tortured because they didn't fit Reker's or their parents image of masculinity. Both the FRC and NARTH continue to use Reker's work. More info: http://liftmyluggage.org Reker's unethical human experimentation: http://www.towleroad...troyed-a-m.html Once again: OUT THE BASTARD! A Good General Rule of Thumb: Never ever under ANY circumstances out a minor. Never out a private citizen. The way they live their life and handle their affairs is nobodies business but their own. HOWEVER- Celebrities and people in power, especially hypocrites that use that power to harm other GLBT people, ALL BETS ARE OFF. It's sort of a public service to out ass-hats like this. ______________________________________________________ Originally run in April 2012

Anxious to see more and get some insight into the hate thing going on with Evan.

Black Knight at King's Bishop 6 has the White King in check.

HAA. Last summer I climbed volcanoes! Dormant for 700,000 years but very, very dangerous!

I was thinking diagonal with the rainbow on top.

my software has limitations. That was my original thought but that is the best I could clip together.

This might be a bad idea. Probably- I've had them before. I think that it reminds me of the controversy over the word queer. To those of us in the South there's no word quite so hateful. Wrapping my mind around the concept of taking that word back took a lot of getting used to. Those of us that are either from the South or live here know a lot about hate. Just today in the local paper there was a whole editorial page dripping with it. They call us unstable- after tormenting us from childhood. They call us immoral- based on four or five vague references in their bible. They call us lots of things that I won't dirty up my blog with but none of it is nice. I used to get mad. Then I said fuck it. I'm going to take away their most prized symbol. It's ours too. We were born here. We can claim the same heritage if not for exactly the same reasons. What you are going to see behind the spoiler may shock you. If you were born down here in the South, you'll laugh and understand just how bat shit crazy it will drive the rednecks. Take it back. It belongs to you. You are a son of the South- even if only treated like a step-son.

I'm not at all pleased with that white privilege concept. Some whites (Ivy Leaguers in particular) are shitloads more privileged than others. Maybe rich assed honkies would be better and more accurate. I haven't seen much of it- but I live in the poorest state in the nation and the leadership here seems hell bent for leather to make #50 as backwards as humanly possible. As it said in the article, it depends on where you get prosecuted. Many jurisdictions are out to give as much time as possible to everybody so white privilege only goes so far.

Russia has a long, ugly history of scapegoating minorities for mistakes that their idiotic leaders are responsible for. It's been that way since the Czars. If I were a Russian Jew, I would be very nervous. If history is any guide, they're next.

We didn't see that. The isolated rat's adaptation to his environment was to party till he dropped. The rat with a community had a different agenda.

Geek to the rescue! Here's what happened: The balls are pumped up to spec inside the field house. The HEATED field house. The balls are used on the field where the temperature is very COLD. Boyle's Law comes into play. Boyle's Law is a relationship between heat and pressure. Any volume of gas is going to vary in pressure given its temperature. When it's hot, the pressure is higher and the gas expands. When it is cold, the pressure is lower and the gas contracts. That's why you have to add air to your tires in cold weather. I'm shocked and appalled that no one seems to remember their freshmen chemistry.

I am always studying addiction. It is a science that far too may people think they have figured out. The reality is a lot more complicated. This is Whiskers the rat. I bring Whiskers into this discussion because almost everybody is familiar with the famous experiment where they put a rat in a cage with easy access to cocaine and the rat goes ape shit and does cocaine until he dies. The obvious things most people think about this experiment is that holy shit, cocaine is awesomely addictive. Another conclusion might be that rats aren't that bright. Some other scientists said- wait just a minute. You put a rat in a cage with nothing to do but cocaine. No rat gyms, no rat clubs, no rat buddies- just cocaine. So... is it the rat or is it the cage? That's a pretty awesome question. I think any addict might be fascinated with it. The experiment with a richer cage- one with things to do and rats to see- was quite different. The rat left the coke alone. It hung out with his rat bros. It ran around the hamster wheel. It talked to his rat buddies about what a sell-out slut Minnie Mouse is. It did all sorts of things but it didn't do cocaine until it died. That's a much better outcome for Whiskers. It also raises some interesting questions. Is it the addict or is it his cage? People are a lot more complicated than rats. So are our cages. Our cages aren't made of wire. They are a product of culture, family, religion and environment. When the rat said fuk that coke shit, I'm hanging with my bros, he was connected to something. In this case we might call it community. Anyone that has ever seen hard core addiction up close knows that is something that takes place in isolation. You can't stay up on a coke bender for a week at a time and hang with grandma. You can smoke crack in public. We call it anti-social behavior because most people don't want to be around that sort of behavior. They don't want to be around addicts. Addicts are disconnected in many ways both subtle and gross. The more advanced the addiction, the less connected they are. It's why so many people over dose and die because they use when no one else is around. I don't know what this means in terms of rehabing addicts. I think it is sort of obvious. The way we try to help addicts clean up is to connect them with a network of supportive people. That is one of the basics of 12 step programs. It's interesting and raises lot's of questions. Here's the article- it's well worth checking out. The Likely Cause of Addiction Has Been Discovered, and It Is Not What You Think SO.. just remember...