Listen to the Silence

The election is over.     Get that?     Whichever side you were on – the results are done.     The whole “petitioning the electoral college” thing was childish enough.     Unless you intend to make good the threat to leave the country – can we please get back to life?    Mocking Trump’s grandkids on a plane won’t change a damned thing, and going after Hillary for jail time won’t stop any future security leaks.   We’re letting cuntish pettiness over politics (victory OR loss) break us apart.    We’re even doing it (to a nastier extent, I think) within our own supposedly “inclusive” community.  Perfect non-kink example.   One of my cousins threatened to disown any of our blood who voted for the “<censored> orange haired <censored>…”.    Personally, I shrugged my shoulders when she sent us all her “warning”.   Mehh.   Grow up, Nat.  Only now she’s actually done it.   She cut off contact and refuses to answer calls, emails – even a letter from her grandmother.   (N

So, here's the spirit of the season in Philadelphia.    It's a wonderful one, really - from a city that threw snow and ice balls as Santa during a home game and a city where the violent crime rate rises every year as we get closer to Christmas.  (Good news...the theft and property crime rates goes up so much it makes the violent crime rate look like it's going down!  Yay!  Thefts and retail thefts stirring all through the night!) Everywhere I look for the last few days, there's nothing but petty, bigoted, spiteful ignorance from the people I work around - in a season that's supposed to be about caring and giving. Examples. I'm trying to help someone online who has been having some problems, by suggesting that they talk with a company that can help them get some new gigs.    This isn't someone I know that well - but I respect her opinion, and offered the random advice (with a "feel free to tell me to shut up" disclaimer) given that I know som

It’s been a while since I’ve written on this, but it’s becoming a real issue again. For those of you who haven’t read it before, I once did this entire schtick about the “cause-ist labeling bat”.   The “Cause-ist Labeling Bat" meaning that big, thick metal studded baseball bat that we use to marginalize and silence people we don’t want to hear.   It’s like a rubber stamp – but it beats the ink into you permanently.   And generally leaves you broken, unemployed, and permanently damaged goods.  Don’t want to hear someone disagree about Black Lives Matter rhetoric?          *WHACK*   They’re a racist. Don’t like someone’s preference for cis-gender?         *WHACK*  They’re homo and trans-phobic. Irritated that someone voted Trump?         *WHACK*   They’re alt-right white supremacists.  Pissed off that guy is dating a white chick instead of you?         *WHACK*  He’s a race traitor and a sellout. Disagree with the protest against the Dakota Access Pipel

You don't have to love me. You don't have to like me. You don't have to listen to me. You don't even have to respect me. But you do have to respect my rights as a person. That's one of those "it's the law" things.   Except in certain circumstances - shutting down what I have to say by calling it "illegal" is censorship - not "safe space"-ing your personal space. Ever hear "your rights end at the tip of my nose"? That applies to your safe space, fingers in your ears, "la-la-la-la-la-ing" nonsense. If you don't like hearing what I have to say?  (Especially when you're not even in the conversation I'm having?) Then don't listen. You're a grown up (at least I think so - the skinny leg jeans made it hard to tell if your balls had dropped yet) - so act like it. Ignore the conversation, or raise your own volume so you don't have to hear things you don't like.   Or wear p

I know, I know, I haven’t written in a while.   Things have been busy, what do you expect?    I have a ten year old starting puberty, a two year old starting talking, and a 30 year old starting Domm-ing.   I’m running a house hold o’bleedin nutters. Today’s rant is brought to you by the letters E, and R.   No, seriously.   E, and R.   Like, the place your partner goes if you have nothing but band aids and booboo cream rattling around in your toy bag. Between the job (law enforcement and proud) and teaching (unarmed defensive tactics, offensive blade combatives, bdsm knife play & rough body play) and playtime in our lifestyle, I keep seeing the oddest combinations of medical kits.    See, this just hit me, while I was vending not long ago.   I watched a young-ish man with whip and claw marks up and down his back (hot, even to my semi-kinda-slightly-maybe-hetero normative self) walking around with three band aids on his back and nothing else. Seriously.   Three band aids.  He w

So, I had the experience of taking my daughter shopping for panties today. Understand - I was her single father Dad for the first three or four years of her life, until my girl (the collared, marriage-ish one) came into our lives. I should be able to handle this.   Right?   Good. I'm a cop.   I have a gun.   I've been shot at.    I've been stabbed.  I can handle a little underwear shopping. Yeah. Not so much. Fucking panties.   Underwear shopping should be grabbing a bag of something vaguely the right size and burying it under other things until checkout time comes. That's how we do it in America.   (That's how we men do it, anyway). So. As I'm crouching down in the women's underwear section, feeling like a pedophile, I'm trying to keep my patrol cap down so I don't feel the thousands of eyes watching.  (They're there.   I'm sure of it.)   And then I realize...there's more than one kind of panty. I realize this as I&

I am not white.    Voting the way I do doesn't change that I'm Native, and the son of hundreds of generations of the People.   Please stop saying that I voted the way I did because I'm "just another white guy". I am not "hetero".   I am a sadist.   I don't care what tackle it has, as long as it whimpers, moans and cries.  (Maybe bleeds, a little.) I am not "bigoted".   I'm not even sure what I'm supposedly bigoted about (nobody will answer my questions on that), but I'm pretty sure I'm too laid back and uninvolved to be bigoted. I am not "imperialist".   My people are still living in poverty.  And proud of it, when the other choice is taking government handouts. I am not a "rich capitalist pig".   I'm a cop, and believe me - we're nowhere near rich.   Most of us are just barely making it, supporting a family.   I am not a "cis-gendered" individual who is "privileged"

Piercing pale blue eyes, Hid in shadows against a dark wall Soft blue whispers of “please,” silent blue supplications for more. Pale, sweat soaked flesh -   soft cushion against a stone wall. Curved and slick, dripping – sighing     Offering up for more.   Hungry, heaving breaths between whimpers, screams…moans. Past bruised ribs, gasping “more”.  Raised ridges, welts and scars, Beaded blood and paper cuts, whimpers and moans. Chestnut waterfalls over scarred and shaking shoulders. Dark curtains hanging Over a ghost pale face Pierced, by pale blue eyes.   

Dear God, what have I done... Kenova is now on twitter. Hold me.... I'm afraid... (KenovaSir on twitter)

Three part rant, remember?   Last Part.    For today.   Probably.   On Fetlife right now, everyone wants to talk about consent violations .   That’s important.   We do need to talk about consent violations both by Tops, and by bottoms.   We need to come to a consensus about how to handle them.  As a community.   It’s not enough to just talk about it, though.   K & P doesn’t help anyway – not really.  Now the   Kierkegaardien   crowd mentality is getting involved.  They want to out people.  They want to presume guilt, contrary to our own laws.  If a moderate voice appears, they want to scream “victim blaming”.   They want to shout down the voices of anyone with a lick’a sense.   It doesn’t actually help anyone – but hey, it makes the crowd feel better, right?   If something happens and you don’t feel you can go to the police – please, go to a Victim Advocate.   Every state has one now, an office of them, and some larger cities have their own.   As a law e

So, my experience so far with the trans community, after writing a few pieces that roughly touched on gender, has generally been one of “die het cis whitie, die”.    (With a few and dear exceptions, Quinn and Michaela.)  Granted, I write stuff that can be considered…cringe-y.   Inflammatory.   Blunt.   Now if you’ve met me you know – I come off very gentle and polite in person.   (Okay, maybe a little intimidating – I’m six five and too big to be subtle and graceful - what do you want?  I raise my voice half an octave at events to make you people feel less intimidated - do you have any idea how sore my throat is by the end of the night?)   Those nice manners come from being a southern gentleman (long live Virginia, and long may the Chickahominy river flow).   They come from being a law enforcement officer.   And they come from a recently found sense of peace.    My writings on the other hand…this one?   This one is going to be a little tart.   And a little sappy.   A

So, begin rant.   This is one of three, btw.   I wrote up this long burning, angry, bitchy rant and let it settle for a few days.   Then I realized it was too long, and I was sick of getting TL:DR (too long, didn’t read) from wankers who just want to jump on someone else’s platform to post their own opinions.   So, mmmm…yeah.   Three shorter rants.   Rant one.  First, I want to say this:   Any group that cries “minority” and “privilege” instead of doing something about it?   Suck my balls.   (They’re big, so you might need to practice with tennis balls.)   Seriously, though.   Suck’em.  Gargle a little.     Whiny internet immature tween gays and lesbians?   Genderqueer/Genderfluid/non-binary genders waiving the privilege flag?   Otherkin?  (Seriously?   Otherkin.  Come on.)  Bitchy Black/Red/Hispanic/Latino/Asian/other?   The whining?   The teary bitch crying on the five o’clock news? You’re pissing the rest of us off.   (Yes, I know that was bad grammar.  

I took a class recently on impact play (every good teacher should also be a student) and came away with some good and some bad.    Mostly bad.  The bad "triggered" me.   It caused my "triggers" to be...uhm...triggered.   Fingered.   Whatever.   (sorry, had to do it...the "trigger" phenomena is just so snark-worthy.  Triggers exist.  90% of what people call triggers, aren't.  They are better known as "I'm too immature to be responsible for my feelings...you do it for me!") *ahem*.    Sorry. If you're going to teach a class of some kind - please read a book.   Go to your local library, look in non-fiction (it's the dusty place no-one ever goes) and check out a few books that relate to your topic.  Take allergy medications - the dust is made from the flop-sweat of evil library demons. Will you find something on whipping a naked girl while she whimpers and drips? Probably not.   (If you do, help a brother out - point me to th

Daughter:  "Daddy, I wanna go to the steak place with the clams." Cassie:   "I didn't know you liked clams, girlie? Kenova:   "I guess you could say she digs clams.   She's a 'clam-digger'. " Cassie:   *smacks Kenova* Cassie:   "I'm glad you like clams, girlie.  Seafood is good for you." Kenova:  "...yes.   Yes it is.   Just ask your Mommy.   She knows alllll about clams."   Cassie:   *smacks Kenova* At Outback, eating clam chowder: Daughter:   "Daddy, where do they get the clams?" Kenova:  "In wet places.   Clams need to be kept wet." Daughter:  "Then how do you dig for them?" Kenova:   "..." Cassie:   *smacks Kenova* Cassie:  *clips the baby-leash...er...'tethered bookbag' to our toddler* Daughter:  "Mommy, I wanna hold John's collar!" Cassie:   *wince*  "Uhm...do you mean his leash, honey?" Daughter:  "That too!  'cause

I've just finished reading and rereading (and responding to, and getting flamed for) a piece written in the Philadelphia Inquirer about homelessness and the "problem" of the homeless congregating around the convention center that the DNC is about to use. I don't know why (although I have a few guesses) that this issue has me so pissed, and adamant.   But the comments about drug use, "fake claims" of being veterans, and blaming the homeless for their own situation - Folks, the reality?    A lot of those "fake claims" of homeless men and women being vets?    They aren't fake.   These are men and women who served us in uniform (and I get tetchy about this, because my family are just about ALL military and LEO) - who are on the streets because the VA is top heavy with middle managers and no longer has the resources to help the veterans they were created to serve. Let's just say that it took a lot of breaks playing with my son to stay calm