GreenasSky A gambol in the goodies by Sloan Nota

Undressing for Our Attention


Laughing face.

Laughing woman, Pexels. To the model, if my usage offends you I’ll swap for another — but it sure says the right thing.


Chicken Little was right. Chunks of solid blue have begun pelting down like enlarged raindrops. Some are big as Volkswagens. The world as we knew it has changed.

Remember the Blue Meanies?

No one ever told us they sauntered around in nice company with no clothes on.

Which would be fine in a like-minded group. They could rub elbows all they wanted on a nude beach or at a champagne mixer. Adults. But we’re talking about men who spring it on unsuspecting women. To see how they deal with it.

Not with equanimity, especially a newly bonding female group, no one’s got anyone’s back yet. Come to a meeting, chairman of the horse’s ass department decides to display his. Nice girls haven’t been taught to deal with such a dogleg in etiquette. How I wish at least one was a comedienne who could have broken into belly laughs. That would shrivel his ambitions for a good long while.

That would steal the narrative from his assault of privates to the joke of his privates. Imagine it ladies, a whole group of us laughing our demeanors off.  High-pitched and unladylike ho-ho-hos. Because girls, this cock-of-the-walk is hilarious. Trying to dominate us with a naked penis! Try with a rattlesnake if you dare to fondle it.

We’re dressed, dude. What’s the matter with you?

This is the only answer, women. Laugh your asses off. We’ve been taught to not-see, not look. What if we just look? At a male undressing himself to get our attention.


It’s liberating!


He’s ridiculous!

Laugh, laugh, laugh.

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Sleeping Boychild

It was not long ago that a woman like me felt she was swimming along like a dolphin in waters making instinctive sense to her every swimming muscle. Then there was a sound like when God announced “Let there be light.” Suddenly there are women’s voices coming from every corner calling abuse, abuse, abuse!

What surprises me is that men never knew this. We all did — why didn’t we tell them? Our husbands, our brothers? We were so schooled in being nice? Frail answer to a troubling question. Do we have an answer yet?

My dolphin self feels stuck on a sandbar I’d never have missed before. I flail my tail but can’t break free of sucking sand. Mother! Why didn’t you prepare me for this?

But our mothers are silent. Lucky us, we’re the first generation to open our eyes.

Exceptional women stirred us. De Beauvoir, Friedan. But now we find ourselves on the open plains of war. What am I doing here? I am a Valkyrie in spirit but no one said anything about picking up a broadsword, lopping off heads.

At no time in history have so many been outed by the female voice. This is what we were raised to not see.

The Mage Who Makes the Rules has cursed womanhood, said if we actually looked at misogyny then we’d be damned. Guess what? We already were. And now we’re in the historically rich act of unmasking our eyes. And mankind’s too.

Look at what misogyny has done to humans’ ability to advance. It’s had the bright boys joining up with the bleepin’ mouth-breathing boys, against the other half of humanity’s eyes and ears and beneficial hormones. Imagine how much science would advance with the full participation of all of us. Cinema. Technology. I invite you to invoke a single endeavor that would not advance with the abolition of the myth of male supremacy.

Sure the groping goosing bad apples would get outed. Smart women coming right along to take their places.

Misogyny is an insult. So is racism. Get it? White supremacists. Male supremacists.

Some good ol’ boy with years less education laughing at me because I’m a woman. And other men laughing right along, cause men gotta bond, don’t they?

Laughing at me because I’m a woman.

‘Scuse me, good ol’ boy? May I call you Dumbo?

May I call your peers of all educations Dumbo, too? Because you all are. Every male of you.

When invoking womanhood invokes laughter, that’s misogyny.

It’ll be our job to open Sleeping Boychild’s eyes, which seem mainly sealed shut with super Tapioca. The power of hearsay! Sure, men are better than women. Sure you are, boys.

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Samantha Bee

Samantha Bee is the only one of he Jon Stewart fraternity — but Samantha Bee was in there — the Jon Stewart sorority? — well but Jon, Steven, Larry, John — so what’s Samantha Bee doing in there? Contrast! Of course. Women can count…. to one.  Couldn’t have women outnumber the guys. The show would start giving off bad smells.

As I was saying, Samantha Bee is the only one of the Jon Stewart lineup who got a solo show — wait! they all got solo shows! ah, but wait! — peppered with commercial breaks that impinge on the comedy. And you have to click again to continue.

This says to me that she’s ended up with the short end of the stick. Short and unfortunately smirched. Grab on girl, because it’s the only stick we’re offering you.

  • And why is that?
  • I ask you Why?

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A Child in Bed

Digital by Sloan Nota

Digital file, 112011 25, by Sloan Nota

A child is sure monsters are under her bed. Or in the closet. She’s young, the frights of the adult world are disconcerting. Makes perfect sense, monsters. How many ears they have is up to you. How many tentacles. Green?

To counteract, to serve as amulet may be a cat, a blankie, a fuzzy toy. Something to dispel the spells hiding in her room. God works for some people, a special saint. And you must understand the fear is real. The threat, the entity. Facing these dreads may be part of your childhood.

Will it work when you’re adult?


Grown men parading with tiki-torches through the public night. You’d think they’d see the comedy. But no, they know they are conveying menace, self-consciously mimicking the KKK’s burning crosses, solely to make other peoples fear. They exude buckets of man-smell in the hot night, which emboldens them. Righteous men demanding their rights from their oppressors — women, Jews, blacks, people of all colors not milk white.

How different is the child in Bambi-themed pajamas from these grownups who’ve convinced themselves they are oppressed by women, races, Democrats? The child is still innocent but the grownups know right from wrong, sense from nonsense. These men, the torch lights, the fervor building in their throats. They know but also they do not.

When will fMRIs [functional MRIs for exact neural pathways] show us what this behavior looks like in the brain? The eyes take in one-of-them and there’s a direct (I think) shunt to emotions such as hate. Trained into them because they’re never born this way. It’s a shunt to powerful emotions that you are agreeing to be taken over by.

Think of it as a car-jacking. You look at flowers, chairs, breakfast, you’re you. But when your eyes light on a Someone you have no more control than a schizophrenic hearing voices. You can’t stop the perception being highjacked by hideous emotions that you don’t normally feel. You become horrible.

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