From: [email protected]
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: re: isn't it interesting
Message-ID: <[email protected]>
Date: 29 Oct 91 18:20:33 GMT
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From Nurse Jones:
Okay, I'm depressed. I thought I had had a great insight about the
future of the ASB and kindred bulletin boards. I thought that maybe they
would develop into a form of tolerance therapy for the world. I got flamed
for that! Waitaminnut. Does it qualify as a flame if they just send you
private e-mail rather than posting their response? Well, it's the thought
that counts. Someone, I lost their address in a fit of pique, told me that
my breathless discovery that I, too, could be tolerant was something my
grandparents before me had undoubtedly discovered as well. I was being
adolescent. Pollyannaish
Well, my POINT, Mr. Smartypants, was that these discussion groups could
be the embryonic beginnings of something really important and healing. There
are lots of people that never learn that lesson. What if they did through
this medium? Wouldn't that be a big thing for the world? A big step
forward? Global tolerance brought on by simple communication of honest
feelings without the burden of defensiveness and the fear of confrontation
or embarassment? I think it's exciting to be here at the beginning. If we
could only live long enough to see where it would lead. THAT was the point.
Besides, my period is due, so watch out, buster. I'm dangerous when
I'm this way. I go to pieces so fast, people are killed by the shrapnel.
I just wasn't ready for him. I had just had a gomer die on me.
Normally, I'm not bothered so much, but for some reason, this one upset me
because she woke up just before she died and didn't know where she was or
how she'd gotten into the hospital and there wasn't a single person anywhere
on this entire planet that she knew that would even visit her and it was a
miracle that I even noticed she was awake at three in the morning anyway. I
sat with her for a bit and explained what had happened to her, about the
stroke and all, and she was an intelligent woman who understood but was just
lonely and old, and I had to leave and she was gone by the time I got back.
Before I left I asked her if there was anything she wanted. Her little
worried watery eyes looked at me for a long time but she didn't say anything
and I can tell she's thinking of the things she really wants. To be young
again and have husband alive to take care of her and most of all to live.
She's afraid. Really really afraid at three in the morning, and not of
anything easy like an injection or a hip operation. She is afraid of Death.
The Black Widow, Death. Right at her bedside, finally come, right there. And
I ask her, "Is there anything you want?" And when the words were out of my
mouth I knew, and I wished I could take them back, and she knew I knew.
Mercifully, she says, "No, hon, you just go on. I'll be fine." I don't know
where they get the strength to die like that, she looked so little and frail
on that bed. Didn't even dent the matress, but she had the strength to
forgive me for getting to live that night when she didn't. I guess those
were her last words, and she spent them letting me off the hook as gently as
she could.
It happens all the time, but usually they don't wake up first. Seems
like they always pick three or four in the morning to go, almost like they
don't want to bother anyone. I hate it when they bring in a gomer,
especially if I'm on night shift.
And then somebody else turns blue just as I was going off and I have
to stay late that morning and I smashed my thumb getting the crash cart and
my period still hadn't come.
So later that day I check in at ASB for a little fun and this wiz-guy
te
discovery and everybody does it all the time so what makes me think I'm such
a big deal. Well, I'm not. That's not the point. (flame alert)
The POINT IS, ASSHOLE,
There must be lots of intolerant people with their own hidden
perversions out there. If they could learn, at a place like ASB,
WHICH _IS_ CONSENSUAL SPACE, INCIDENTALLY,
that their perversions will be tolerated and the only price they have to pay
is to tolerate others, then this kind of communication could be the
beginning of something really important to the world. Tolerance therapy.
More important than, say, electricity or nuclear power. Or religion. BUT I'M
SORRY IF I RAINED ON YOUR PARADE, ASSHOLE!!!@! Damn., I broke a nail.
ps. I do have that right, don't I? Consensual Space is where people consent
to become closer to each other through a demonstration of mutual tolerance
and acceptance? Or do they just consent to let other people insert foreign
objects into their orifices?
I tell you, some days just make you wish Life had a fast forward button.
Nurse Jones, who feels a lot better now, thankyou.
Even so,
I think of all the corpses
Lying in the shade;
I cannot chew my peanuts
Or drink my lemonade.
Good God, I am afraid....
--
Read Michael Raymond Feeley's response
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