I once slept with a guy who said he didn’t like the term “lovemaking.” I told him I rarely used it, but was glad the term exists. “It has a poetry of its own,” I mused.
“I prefer fucked,” he said.
To take that line and screw with it a little, where the leader of the land is concerned, I never prefer fucked. That said, thank God for Twitter. Twitter’s where I go to say hi to people, to draw warmth from our community, to express, share, feel delight, hold hands with the sex-positive world. Twitter’s where I go for lovemaking. The sort that takes place with friends in 140 characters or less.
Or with myself in 280 characters by, you know, self-replying.
Anyway, you can imagine why, when the ever-perceptive branding expert Dorie Clark, author of the amazing Stand Out and Reinventing You, made the following 2017 prediction at BrandDrivenDigital.com, I lost my mind a little:
“Twitter will die, and Donald Trump will be the only person still left who is using it.”
That said, if I have to tweet Trump myself to make sure there are at least two of us using Twitter, I guess I’ll be opening an Instagram account instead.
Now, I purposefully never seek out Trump’s Twitter feed. As a queer immigrant married to a trans man, I feel afraid of him. I know it’s not an ideal emotion, but it’s where I’m at right now. I watch the headlines from behind a cushion. Rather than say the word “Trump” I’m tempted to do a Pre-Potter Hogwarts and refer to him only as the Snollygoster.
Daily word: 'Snollygoster' – a politician who cares more for personal gain than serving the people.
NOT this dog, who has top approval rates pic.twitter.com/eoUtKk2c7L
— Dick King-Smith HQ (@DickKingSmith) January 19, 2017
Oh damn. The Snollygoster is here.
But back to the whole Twitter thing, I’m tempted to get offended that Trump even knows about Twitter. I want Twitter to be safer than that. I want it to be for us only.
Big, old sentimental me.
As the inauguration of President Trump, aka the Snollygoster, bursts in upon us, I’m tempted to say that what we need is lovemaking. Not only the kind that takes place in the sack, but the kind that acts like a big, warm bath. So I’ve been looking to you folks on Twitter for that sort of lovemaking. Let’s face it, there’s plenty. Starting with greats from Oleander Plume‘s feed:
tic toc tic toc pic.twitter.com/W2dRvq53DU
— Hend Amry (@LibyaLiberty) January 19, 2017
— Hend Amry (@LibyaLiberty) January 19, 2017
— Melanie Wise (@IamMelanieWise) January 14, 2017
This, via Chrissi Sepe:
— Stop Trump 🍷 (@StopTrump2020) January 19, 2017
Beauty, as always, from August McGlaughlin:
“To feel intensely is not a symptom of weakness, it is the trademark of the truly alive and compassionate.” – Anthon St. Maarten
— August McLaughlin (@AugstMcLaughlin) January 15, 2017
Beauty and tremendous sadness, via Ella Dawson:
— Parker Molloy (@ParkerMolloy) January 19, 2017
This from Dario Dalla Lasta:
— Isaac Fitzgerald (@IsaacFitzgerald) January 19, 2017
Also, there’s knitting. And Alison Tyler.
— Alison Tyler (@AlisonTyler) January 19, 2017
Life is funny. Why not laugh at it? pic.twitter.com/onln9LVAgv
— Heidi Ho (@caribelli) January 18, 2017
like and retweet if this amuses you too! pic.twitter.com/uDva1C2xSI
— Writer’s Relief (@WritersRelief) January 19, 2017
Lastly, because there is seriousness here too, I want you all to know that Twitter really is still here. Our Twitter. Your Twitter. The Twitter we make. And just because there’s a Snollygoster in power doesn’t mean the human heart won’t win.
I’ll end with a tweet from Oleander Plume. Yes, another from her feed. Which really says why you should go and follow her.
— Moushumi Amour (@MoushumiAmour) January 19, 2017
On that note, I send love to you all. I’m so grateful for you.
In fact, you know what? Let’s have an inourguration instead.
Hey! Check out my social media services, why don’t you? And follow me on Twitter:
If the answer is yes, go check out Malin’s amazing posts on Maddie Aflame! They’re beautifully perceptive about the series and I’m really honored by them. Some tasters:
What I especially love about Maddie Aflame!, is that it features something that’s been largely lacking in erotic literature—queer-centered, empowering, inclusive portrayals of characters in their late teens and early twenties. Young adulthood is a challenge, even more so for people who may not conform to societal norms. The fact that Lana Fox tackles those issues here, and did it without sacrificing the book’s compulsive readable-ness is, quite frankly, fucking impressive. Like I said, I’m a fan.
The antagonists go to great lengths, including kidnapping, murder, and torture, to impose a rigidly traditional social structure on the populace. And yet, beneath that structure, individual people reject conformity in favor of boundless self-acceptance and love. It’s that sense fluidity (in gender and emotional / sexual relationships) that ultimately helps our heroes counter the rigid traditions that threaten them.
And then there’s the sentient mansion. While I don’t want to give too much away, it’s a metaphorical masterstroke that deserves a mention. The mansion, which, for all intents and purposes should be just a normal house, is a feeling, sensing thing, more creature than building, cognitively speaking, as it responds to the emotional state of its occupants. Like magic, tech and ghosts, the mansion bridges a gap and blurs the line between expectation and form to defy its own weaponization, making it not only a compelling character in its own right, but a powerful metaphor for the breaking of traditional worldviews in favor of wider possibility.
She has Combustion Syndrome, a disease that, when triggered, causes her body to combust from the inside out. While the ability to heal is part of the Syndrome, episodes leave her burned and weak, and are, quite honestly, a little terrifying … As Maddie progresses through the book, she learns to stop fearing the disease and draw strength from it. Sex plays a large role in this.
Thanks a million, Malin! And folks, please go and check out Malin’s own work. She is a huge talent! She posts stunning erotica and beautiful commentary on her blog and she also publishes widely with a variety of presses.
What’s not to love?
Picture credit – Oracle of the Shapeshifters (Lucy Cavendish) – click here or on pic to buy.
When I was eleven and living in England, I was sent to boarding school. I didn’t want to go, but at my previous school I’d been bullied ceaselessly for having extremely bad acne. For two years, I had begged my parents to take me away. The school — a private girls’ school — had a great deal of bigotry in it, and every time a student of color arrived in our year, or a student with a disability or a deep sense of shyness, I made friends with them. But they would only be there for a term because their parents took them away from the bullying. And then I’d be left alone.
What’s more, my parents were Christian Scientists who taught me it was sinful to defend myself against bullies, because they believed this “dragged me down to the bullies’ level.” So, being afraid of being “bad” in the face of God, I bore cruel words with tears in my eyes and never told anyone to leave me alone. Naturally, this only made it worse.
Then, one day, my parents gave me a choice. “Either you stay where you are,” they said, “or you go to Christian Science boarding school.”
I chose the latter.