Friday, May 18, 2012

Olympics London : Galway Whooker Protest with Genitalia & Strip Searching Security Issues

















Olympics London : Galway Whooker Protest with Genitalia & Strip Searching Security Issues




category international | rights and freedoms | other press author Saturday May 19, 2012 00:42author by BrianClarkeNUJ - AllVoices Report this post to the editors



Binn Paidin



“Our genitals exist as a source of permanent access to pleasure.” Michel Houellebecq

So as we sail past Goa in the Indian Ocean and its hot on deck Olive and Pui are giving me a bit of a rub down, chattering away to each other the way women do on such occasions, though I’m fecked if I understand a word they are saying I



LONDON HUMAN RIGHTS BRITISH OCCUPIED IRELAND
LONDON HUMAN RIGHTS BRITISH OCCUPIED IRELAND



“Our genitals exist as a source of permanent access to pleasure.” Michel Houellebecq

So as we sail past Goa in the Indian Ocean and its hot on deck Olive and Pui are giving me a bit of a rub down, chattering away to each other the way women do on such occasions, though I’m fecked if I understand a word they are saying I enjoy listening, the babble is always re-assuring. Its one of those better moments between the sexes and somehow three seems a good number albeit mostly always temporary. A lot of westerners assume particularly women that Asians are easier to deal with than women from other cultures.
They think for example fiery Latin types would be more trouble than what they see as submissive Asians. Bollix ! they are all trouble. Anyway I seem to have a bit more clarity, while having a lazy massage and later some sex for hours in such circumstance.

I can't say what made me fall in love with Asia, a woman's voice that drugged me or the intensity of some of its colors, taste, even rain. We are going to find nothing like that in the filthy rain of London Olympics. They say whatever you're looking for you will find in Asia that you will understand a lot in a few minutes but the rest must be lived. Smell:is the first thing that will hit you promising everything decadent in exchange for your soul. With the heat your shirt is straightaway a rag and you can hardly remember your name but as evening closes in as it is now on deck there's a breeze and the sea is beautiful and only pleasure matters.

For some it was the pipe of opium, others the touch of a woman who might whisper she loves you. Then it happens all over again as you knew it would. Nothing is ever the same again and losing that magic is the beginning of death. I behave badly, I have every intention of behaving badly this massage with Olive and Pui is exactly the kind of situation where we all behave badly. Certain western feminists will criticize me but more often than not these two 'submissive ladies' will be sitting on my face, quite aggressively I might add as they will with one another. The Ying and the Yang of it is deceptive, its not always what it seems. They say there is a ghost in every house and if you can make peace with it will stay quiet not so the beast in us all. Scratch me and I'll want to scratch back, under this thin veneer of civility lies a savage. What about you?

Something else is always needed with me to fill the existential void. Sex, sailing and motorbikes are the answer for me at least for a good while.So with this trip to London for the Olympic protest I will be spending a couple of weeks on the boat. Olive, Richard, Pui and me. I'm an anti-social bastard at the best of times so it's best for everybody if I either make myself scarce or make sure I enjoy myself. Sailing like a good motorbike spin clears the system. After a few of days fighting a headwind its nice to relax on deck. Sure a state of enlightened celibacy and subjugated primal urges is a nice change sometimes for the needs of literature? But if only life was that simple, the primal urges always seem persist. I'll be honest, I have tried a wank now and then but it's not anything like feeling warm moist flesh around my hard-on, is it bhoys? Single handed sailing, blowing with the wind is great but a long time without a decent blowjob or oral sex puts me in the doldrums.

Michel Houellebecq's quote above “Our genitals exist as a source of permanent access to pleasure.” is basically true I believe, even though he is something of a shit-stirrer, giving offence for it’s own sake. His take on ‘The Possibility of an Island’ is I believe very relevant to contemporary Ireland with the the death of Catholicism and the ensuing vacuum its a relevant voice crying out against spiritual and moral decadence of British occupied Ireland and indeed the whole island. I’m flip flopping a lot on Ireland recently and in 4 or 5 minds about all of it as I believe is current Irish realpolitik. This Olympic Protest on the Thames is also about pushing the old envelope and stirring things up. These arrogant British Tories need a good kick in the arse from time to time and the Irish are the ones to do it. Anyway, what do they expect, interning without trial, Irish political prisoners of conscience, in their own land and torturing them as they have done with Marian Price for more than a year now in solitary confinement

Frankly I am disgusted with humanity recently, particularly these arrogant rich British Tories in this new-age of multiculturalism..These are strange times for many living fragmented lives, connected only by TV and the Internet with an absence of humanity and Government infiltrated human rights groups. "Do you actually have a point of view on this Richard or are you busy playing with yourself again?" I titter.

"Who me sir?" "Yes you Richard, what's it with the Sir all of a sudden?. Have you been paying attention, Richard?" " Well yes and no, I mean there is no conclusion because what your saying is a conclusion in a way isn’t it? he says out of the side of his mouth. "You sound tired and weak to me Richard, have you got any feelings in you at all man ? Where are you off to after this trip then? Who are you really, Richard? What’s going on in your head, really? Or are you just thinking about your next meaningless, ephemeral sexual encounter or is there more to you, than meets the eye?" I berate him. "Look Paddy I'm English and I am 60 years old, and my mind was a seething mass of great ideas and unrealized dreams when I was young." "Leave the condescending Paddy out Richard, what has English or Irish for that matter got to do with it. My name is Bernie and it does seem strange to me that you were actually young once and you can put that in your pipe and smoke it!.".

Phuck I'm beginning to sound like one of those Camus's novels again or 'The Outsider', voted the most significant "watershed" book for men which was very influential when I was young and vulnerable.'The Outsider' was written when he was living in a sleeping bag on Hampstead Heath in London Like us Irish strangers in a strange land, social outcasts, amazing he or us survived. Wilson's 'The Outsider' is about other outsiders, famous writers and artists who saw things differently. Basically he was saying it's alright to be eccentric and you are not alone. This was great news at the time. It became a guide for the young, bohemian, artists or James Dean types.

As the people such as Richard and much of Ireland grow colder, deeper understanding is required instead of constantly turning to my computer or TV. Spend evenings with Olive and Pui even if its sometime just sex or physical is better than just loading a new programme,: "Are you lonely, are you lost? The voice console can say." Press submit. "Hallo, I know you have been feeling tired. I bring you love with deeper understanding. Hallo, you're unhappy, aren't you. I bring you love and deeper understanding." When family found me, I was really lonely and lost without my little black box as I pick up the phone and go, Submit. "Hallo, I know that you've been feeling tired. I bring you love and deeper understanding. Hallo, I know you're unhappy. I bring you love and deeper understanding." I turn to my computer as a friend. I really do need deeper understanding. Got me deeper understanding. from a new podcast by rswipe. Imagine what more than a year in solitary British confinement without trial is like, after a hunger strike of 200 days being force-fed or have we entirely lost the bit of nature in us and our humanity ? "No respect Richard." I say. 'Exactly Bernie" he says "The world has gone mad." I do tend to go on a bit, don't I ? 



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