Saturday, March 23, 2024

Even My Shirts Are Wrinkled

It is still Spring Break, I assume.  There are festivals.  I've been invited to Grit City to take photos at the Mutts and Suds Festival.  Dogs and beer.  I'm taking a hard pass on that one.  I'm also half expected to go to Cracker Beach to a bar called Coconuts where they used to have "Bikini" contests every Saturday.  Who knows?  It's really a throwback crowd, so they might still.  But I would be there to photograph a famous German filmmaker.  I have half a mind to go.  I still don't know.  I stayed up until one last night listening to music and working on photos, then took a Xanax so I could sleep.  I get jacked and could stay up all night when the music and the images are good.  I lose all track of time.  Luckily, I didn't open my eyes until nine, so I got eight hours sleep.  But the day has gotten away from me now.  I should go, but I am so loathe to go anywhere any longer. . . .  

We all know what I need.  

I hadn't gone to the gym for a few days and people were wondering where I was.  They said I hadn't been myself lately.  I'd been "grumpy," they said.  Tennessee, always my buddy, told people I was home curled up in a fetal position.  He said my ovaries were swollen.  Nadia is a woman I have known since my yoga days, a couple decades ago.  We barely spoke to one another then, but we remember one another.  She is slightly older than I, a total Swede from Minnesota, thin and well built and still quite attractive.  We have become friends at the Physical Culture Club in the past few years and talk fairly often.  She is now friendly with the other Gymroids, too, especially Tennessee.  When she asked him where I had been and he gave his smart ass answer, she reportedly said, "Well. . . we all know what he needs!"  

Nadia!!!  That, I think, is sooo out of character for her.  

But the world has gotten weird.  There are far more beautiful people than ever before.  Many reasons.  But it is true.  And yet, they are less happy, have difficulty sustaining relationships, and have far less sex than in the past.  We have become worse than Puritans about sex.  Porn, of course, is a problem, but A.I. porn is worse.  If you read statistics on it as I did today in the Times, it is epidemic.  They are putting people in jail for creating it now.  The Prime Minister of Italy, Giorgia Meloni, is suing two men for making "deep fake" porn videos using her image.

As I've said many times, we should all be required to post nude pics of ourselves on the internet so that it isn't such a thing.  I'm a big fan of the Ivy League and its Seven Sisters colleges nude posture photos from the 1940s through the 1970s (link).  The '70s, of course, brought the big porn rage then the backlash and we began the road back to Puritanism once again.  HBO did a series about it that was pretty raunchy which is why, I think, it didn't last (link).  "The Deuce."

It's a dirty world, I guess, and somebody has to clean it up.  That's what they say.  But it won't be James Franco.  

I'm not a fan of porn for more than about a minute, but I like looking at people.  Who doesn't?  Tennessee got it right, though, and I think he knew it.  I'm kind of an emo.  Sex is sex, Nadine, but sometimes you just want someone to hold you in the night.  

Well. . . I do.  I know women who don't want to be held in the night.  

"Get the fuck off me, I'm suffocating!"

The Deuce to them, I say.  

I certainly don't object to the bikini contest as long as they haven't forced young girls into it.  It's better than Mutts and Suds, though by and large the crowd is about the same.  

So. . . is she A.I.?  They, I mean.  Of course they is, just like Kate Middleton.  It's been through Photoshop.  Funny. . . people don't mind A.I. that puts a glamor glow or some other flattering filter on them.  Our world has been A.I. for a pretty long while now, in tech years, anyway.  

I'm envious of young people, of course.  They already have a youth fixation.  They are worried about getting and looking old.  My friends in their forties look like they are in their twenties, many of them, at least, those with money, because they started with botox and other beauty procedures early on.  When I see a photo of myself with them, I wish I had started that shit sometime ago, too.  They look like they've never had a serious complicated thought in their lives.  I, on the other hand, look as if I have pondered all the problems of the world.  Alicia Menendez on MSNBC is a great public example.  She is forty but looks like an embryo (link).  The film director I might photograph today is in her eighties.  German.  Not an embryo.  

It is supposed to be raining but the sun is shining now.  I should go.  Even though it is a cracker coastal town, it is still the beach.  I can ruin my skin a tad more, deepen the lines around my eyes and mouth and get a few more sunspots to boot.  But it won't matter.  Like I said, it's a cracker town.  They may start out young, but hard jobs, drugs and drinking, old cars, and rental housing will take its toll.  

Time and gravity will have its way.  

Thank goodness for A.I.  

Still. . . even broken old hillbillies sometimes need to be held through the night.  

And yes. . . my ovaries hurt.  

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